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Show SUMMER 2003 Page 9 The West View “The Dream” Like the music of Miles, Coltrane, Pouic: and the Count | Which all created a single bond _ All single bond of life as one ~ I wonder did our fore-fathers not say EQUAL FOR ALL - West Side, East Side, West Side, East Side Like the wheels of a train As they go over the tracks Clank-clank, Clank-clank, Clank-clank When Rivera and Frida, Picasso and Botero. ‘Paint our lives East Side, West Side, East Side, West Side Do they see despair Like the sound of a bouncing ball As a child throws it against the wall Badang-badang, Badang-badang, Badang-badang Or do they see our hope Do they see One People Or justaslope I look through this window everyday Everyday : A lignes slope that goes back and forth Back and forth Will we go back or Will we go forth- | Looking through the window of my life Watching Watching the raindrops hit the pavement Watching Like Cesar Chavez who bright the plight of the Migrant workers to the world I can Change the World with my Two Hands With uy Two Hands I can Change ine World 3 Watching the raindrops form psychedelic rainbows Twisted Twisted colored rainbows Remembering Remembering back to a distant time Like Martin Luther King who brought the plight ofSegregation to the world You can Change the World with your Two Hands With your Two Hands you can Change the World I wonder, did the Sout of that distant time ever think of us and them Did they ever see a division or was it just always.there Did the dream of Martin Luther King get deferred? Or | Did the dream ever really Exist Like Mandela, Tutu, Peltier and Mumia Who are still bringing to the world a bore for| pnanee _ The struggle is up to you You can struggle a little OR You can struggle a lot But regardless of that Struggle ~ Exist, like the ones who Died Died building this Place This place known as Zion - So whether you live ini Rose Park, Glendale, Pols Grove Or Foothill and Sugarhouse : Whether on the West Side or on the East Side We g0 through life watching Triumphs We go through life watching Failures Triumphs and Failures obtained in a preterit time “How many times has the sun stalled itself in the middle of the day You can do Better You can do Better Like this day, Any day That passes through the door How can You, Me, Them just let it go Did you ever think that ffonup above = Lady Holiday and Ella and Good Old Dizzy Than just Survive ee Would sing up a trizzy Going over Whiskey the songs of our reality Did All Do Do the ghosts that are. all around around- the Buildings, Streets, and Shadows of this city — they look down they look down — And = Is it in pity? | Do they see how the times have gene Have they changed- AndIs it for the better You won’t be Denied AEN rs se So spread your wings out wide Young and Old, Old and Young’ Spread your wings out wide Brown, Black, Yellow, White _ Spread your wings out wide And fly out high MAKE THE DREAM COME ALIVE West Side, East Side, West Side, East. Side Like the wheels of a train As they go over the tracks Clank-clank; Clank-clank; Clank-clank For there is still and us ane them by Juan José Garcia (a.k.a. Jay) Poem from Spy Hop documentary: The Other Side of The Tracks Vision Through The ' Eyes Of Hope Like a burst of sun from a clouded sky, | a second wind in a marathon, a joyous hymn from a dark lament, _I am humbled and lifted, defying gravity and scornful eyes, the darkest cloud cannot keep me down. Like the constant sun, of the conversation. “a mi hablame espanol, no quieras aparentar lo que no eres! are the words of my mother as we break into an angry frustrated, and-sad — she tells q?? its brilliant rise each day, despite the gray, tainted view — there is a purity shed, an untouchable innocence, a tiny voice that conquers all the demons of the day. It peels the shadows that cast the heart with gloom, it sees beyond the highest wall, = and touches the furthest star above. So it is through her eyes that I must see so that I can realize it is not about me, but her. I must sweep the clouds Mama Maria away to show the pain to her, my love, my daughter. by Esha Blosch - us we are not from here. i wish that with a snap of my anger she could learn to speak the language she dreads. the language that keeps her from being i always speak to her in english, but today as we argue I might be talking too fast for her. she pays attention, she tries to listen, finally tired of trying to understand she breaks down. i believe it does not hurt her what i’m saying much, but the fact that she is — but i feel bad for my mother, argument. | ‘in her children’s | life and education. by Lizbeth Martinez missing out. my brothers andi all speak to her1 in english, we all speak to one another in english. mama just listens hard trying to be part Mama Maria was selected from Westwinds: Resurrected, West High School’ official 2002-2003 Literary Magazine. |