Guest Post: . . . Who By Brick Are Not Silenced.

A little history, music and poetry from Crystal-Angelee Burrell*

The graves of great men cannot contain them.

Their bones are brick, their blood, paint.

So when next you walk past a mural

On the brick of their bone

Splattered with the paint of their blood,

Listen.

You may hear their whispers.

Billie Holiday shrieking in the distant past about

“Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.”

The “blood on the leaves” has found wall.

When walls sing, listen.

Ella Fitzgerald’s desperate plea about “a little lamb that’s lost in the wood”

Is still praying to be found.

Thick, brick cement cannot silence their songs.

Their passion bursts through caskets,

Drips down pavement,

And climbs up walls-

New shrines to their image.

The shine that comes from them is…

Beautiful.

Like Lena Horne dressed in gold assuring us

That “in a world of underrated treasures and overrated pleasures,”

We are worthy,

We are worthy,

We are worthy to be loved.

Listen also for Louis Armstrong’s raspy ode

To that “bright blessed day, and dark sacred night.”

These sacred lives are beating art,

Forever untamed.

When legacy is too grand not to be unearthed,

Maybe it sags like a heavy load.

Or, Mr. Hughes, does it explode?

* Crystal Angelee is a sophomore at Boston University studying International Relations and Performance Theatre. As a native of Brooklyn, NY, she is grateful to have been raised in a place that celebrates every culture, and story, with such passion. She has been writing poetry since she was very young, but growing up she was too shy to perform any of them. Now, however, there isn’t anywhere she’d rather be than on stage sharing her work with others, or especially performing in a play. Crystal would like to thank her mother, Marcia, for always inspiring her to express herself, and for teaching her that nothing is impossible with a little hard work.

Peace.