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Debbie Rica Wilson

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Poetry from Soul Candy: Poems for the Fearless
by Debbie Rica Wilson
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Rated "PG" by the Author.
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Inspiration, Global Awareness, Change



Soul Candy Copyright © 2008 by D. Rica Wilson
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted
in any form or by any means without permission by the author.
Published by LULU
960 Aviation Pkwy Morrisville, NC
ISBN 978-1-4357-2047-3
Soul Candy
there is terror in the Congo
and my beautiful sister is the target
of crimes that try to rip out her soul
and prevent another child from entering the world
by way of her womb
there is hate in the middle of the diamond jungle
a genital war lead by Congolese soldiers
they have no respect from my sister
her body is not a temple in their presence
but a playground without merry-go-rounds and swings
he steals innocence from toddlers and the elderly alike
three is not too young and 85 is not too old
for him to beckon his friends for a gang rape
one by one they will take turns tearing away pride and confidence
with hopes of leaving an empty feminine shell
leaving little girls and women without functioning vaginas and an anus
burned out by war
what will my sisters do?
when their husbands, fathers, and brothers are killed before their eyes while trying to save them from the terror
how will she erase the images of her father's head separated from his body
or the bleeding legs of her brother
or the penis of her husband that a soldier made her place in her mouth during the gang rape as her husband lay lifeless across the room
Panzi is their earthly heaven
where they can be repaired
and not wet their beds
or feel ashamed
she will stop the schizophrenic yellow water from running down their brown legs
eventhough her rooms cannot hold them all
her heart can
until lovers of women send funds to help her expand
until then
i will pray that GOD stops the terror
and bamboo sticks and guns from being forced into my sisters
I hope that the jungle will release the names of the terrorist
and justice will reign among the Congo wealth
until then
i will lay on my face and weep for my sisters
i will lay on my face and weep for my sisters
i will lay on my face and weep for my sisters
the bloody semen between their legs
and the children without fathers
because of war
until the Congolese
women and girls are released
 Soul Candy
I am Obama
I am Obama
and I can stand up
and be strong in the midst of controversy
I can hold my head high and be proud of who God made me
without apology
I am Obama
I am history in the making-
a mouthpiece for freedom and justice
I am Obama
I am my grandmother's dream-
her cotton hands spoke of my existence
before my birth-
it is now that I must embrace the earth
I am Obama-
I am unstoppable
my dreams have breath-
they CAN live in dark places
and birth light
I am Obama
I am a leader
a visionary
a sky without limits
a road without lines
a bird with wings
and I CAN fly
I am Obama
Soul Candy
why do children of the poor and middle class
come home in boxes
and the parents of the wealthy endorse and approve war
what if they put on the shoes
of the dead children
while walking in wealthy brown grass
and sat with the mother or father of the
hollow soldier-
what if they
had the last glance of the body in the box
that would never taste his mothers cooking again or
feel the warmth of a father's touch
what if they caught the tear drop of the parent holding the flag at the grave
with only stars and strips to remember
the gift
in the box
destroyed by war
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Reviewed by Elizabeth Price 6/22/2008
Awesome. Brutal and beyond belief but happening just the same. Such horrors. May justice find the Congolese. May God guide Obama. And may the bodies and boxes of our dead be shown on TV for all to see. We hide all horrors away and don't want to hear or see them. It would not be polite. Excellent poems. Liz

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