Collections of Poems&Songs Volume One

J. Byrd Memorial Poem

A memorial poem by Cesa 

For Joaquin

Air to the East, you are with us the second we are born

To the second we die

You fill our lungs with life

I call you to our school

Fire to the South, you warm our hearts

And fill us with love so great

We are able to warm others

I call you to our school

Water to the West, you wash away our sorrow

Through the tears we cry

For a fallen comrade

I call you to our school

Earth to the North, we walk you while we live,

And embrace you when we die

You support us as we go through life

I call you to our school

Spirit in the center, you are our essence

Who we are, and who we love

You are the memories we hold

I call you to our school

Today, February 6, 2017

Most of the school found out

That we lost a student to homicide

Those who were good friends probably

Found out before

Me? I am but an observer

I am watching as friends grieve

As teachers lead to support

Students who must go through as if

It's another day

For most of us, it is

But for some, the some that I see,

I see them talking about him

Speaking as though he is absent

But there are tears in their eyes

And sobs in their voice

I observe, but I also feel

I didn't know him personally

I probably had a class or two with him

But I know him through his friends

Who have talked about him on the bus

Who have tears in their eyes

Who have sobs in their voices

I know him through teachers who

Try to make this a normal day

But have shine in their eyes

From the loss of yet another

Student

I know him through the grief I feel

From not knowing him

I know his last name

Byrd

B-Y-R-D

Because just last week

He was another student

But today? Today he is a memory

He leaves behind a wound

And those who killed him will

Most likely not pay

Because this city has too much

This city has many open wounds

They fester on the streets

Their puss is the spurts of killing

Of violence that runs through our veins

School is the only place some people have

To escape, even for a bit,

The streets that are washed in blood

The teachers

The teachers are so strong

We don't how how much death they have seen

Us students may find some of them hard

Maybe they are hard on us to push us

To be better than the violence in us

Push us to graduate and do well

Push us, as if trying to say

"Get out while you still can!"

I feel the grief of our teachers

Who have worked many years

Who have one more student to add to their list

Of people they will always remember

For the teachers

Who may have this be the first

Death of a student

Spirit, guide Joaquin to his next place

That he may feel peace

At knowing that was his last

Battle of the streets of Oakland

I bid you leave

Earth, hold Joaquin

Hold him tight so he may finally

Rest in your soft earth

And know the peace this city could not give

I bid you leave

Water, wash away our sorrow

Wash away the filth

This city has spewed on us

And refresh us to hold his memory as we move on

I bid you leave

Fire, warm us

So we may not feel the cold hands

Of the grief that threatens to pull us

Down into it's depths of the souls we once knew

I bid you leave

Air, blow away

The stench of death

And the cries of anger

Toward is forsaken city

I bid you leave

Joaquin Byrd, may your soul truly rest in peace

Repeat after me

Merry meet, merry part, and merry meet again

Merry meet, merry part, and merry meet again

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This poem has two versions, the original one which is longer, and an edited version I made for my school newspaper.  The school newspaper version will be the next part. It was dedicated to a student that I had just found out had died over the weekend. He was a very well-known student, though I did not know him myself. His death, however, still hits me hard to this day. I hope you read and felt the emotions I felt within, and around me. 

The call of the elements in the original is a tribute to the House of Night Series by P.C. Cast and Kristin Cast.