The Invisible Revolutionary

“All I ever want to be is an honest man, and who, like Hemingway, endures.” – James Baldwin

Dear Fellow Warrior,

I trust this finds you well. I hope you had a fantastic summer. I will be sharing a few updates with you in a future post. For the moment I was eager to share this piece with you.

I just submitted this poem for consideration to a poetry magazine. I am genuinely proud of it. This is the second time I submitted one of my original pieces to a poetry magazine. The last time was about a decade ago. Interestingly, I took one of my favorite verses from that composition and placed it in this one below.

As you may recall, I confirmed my identity as a poet in this year’s National Poetry Month. I started writing this poem that same month. I finally finished it now. Since I will hear back in 6 months, and they are fine with republishing the self-published poems, I wanted to share this with you on my blog in my poetry collection here, because it is a special one. Below I have the description I provided them and then the poem follows. Thank you so much for reading!

{Update: It was rejected but I hope to try again in the future with a revision.}

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My writing and poetry is confessional and free verse, where I explore themes related to identity, self-discovery, social justice, intersectionality, and mental and emotional human suffering. I have written poetry since I was child as a way to find meaning, purpose, connection, and escape.

This poem, The Invisible Revolutionary, is a tribute to all the silenced voices in the plight for a Free Palestine. These are the hidden, lost, and unheard voices fighting for social justice and change. Over the past 11 months, many people have faced hatred, trolling, shadow-banning, and exclusion, both online and offline, in their advocacy for a Free Palestine during the recent escalation of violence, conflict, and genocide. This poem emerged from a deeply personal experience—standing alone in the rain at Freedom Plaza, Washington, DC, on March 9, 2024, when a solidarity march was actually scheduled the day earlier, on March 8, for International Woman’s Day.

In this moment of solitude, the plaza, once the site of the largest mass mobilization in the U.S. for Palestinian human rights (Jan 13, 2024), with over 400,000 Americans across the U.S., symbolized the alienation and loneliness many Americans sometimes feel in their activism among their communities. Despite the rise in international solidarity, I find myself at times on a lonesome journey, embodying the “invisible revolutionary.” This poem captures that experience—a dedication to the Resistance, even if it means having to stand alone at times.

The Broader Significance
This piece will resonate with anyone who has ever felt marginalized or silenced in their activism. The piece is a manifestation of the personal sacrifices and cost of resistance and the resilience required to continue fighting, even when it feels like no one is listening. In a time where the voices for justice are increasingly suppressed, and with reference to this poem, in theseOrwellian Times, (a widely cited reference to George Orwell’s 1984), The Invisible Revolutionary serves as a reminder of the importance of perseverance and the enduring power and agency of the individual in the collective struggle for freedom.
Thank you for giving the voice of The Invisible Revolutionary a chance.

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Please also listen to this piano assemble, “Find a Melody,” by the pianist Andrea Vanzo while reading the poem: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jgKpdBWLtBk

This video on my YouTube Channel connects to the moment I describe in this piece: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/-jDxHPpqHWk

The Invisible Revolutionary

In the heart of Freedom Plaza,
In the arms of a hurricane,
An “imperfect stranger.”
You won’t know her name.
Raising the clenched fist,
In an empty arena… Twirling in the rain.

Closing her eyes, she hears the familiar melody.
In pursuit of a permanent remedy.
As the square transforms into Gaza.

A flashback from that time.
The Adhaan…The call to Prayer,
Graces her ears…
For the first time in the “City of her dreams.”
A moment inhabited by 400,000 souls.
Together…shoulder to shoulder.
Marching…in Jamaat.

The largest mass protest in the history of a nation founded by slaughter.
In a place, thousands of miles away, that could end a massacre.
She stands alone here, this instant.
With her heart aching for liberation.

Dancing to the rhythm of Freedom.
Alone…But the Divine’s presence is near.
They tried.
They tried to steal the “Allahu Akbar” from her before.
Always coming after more.

She cannot let it happen, this time.
Rain or shine.
She fights for a Free Palestine.
Without fail.
Resistance must prevail.

Just one person,
Among tens of thousands,
Shouting, dancing, singing, beating their drums.
Chants for freedom ascend all four corners,
Like a surround sound system.

A power…endlessly denied,
Radiating through her body.
Surging electricity through her bones,
From her toes to her head,
Wrapped by a cloth, emulating the symbol of liberation.
A cloth she once claimed her crown.
Grounding her, weighing her down,
Keeping her chaste.
Holding firm her clenched fist.
As rain streaks down her face.

Just a “face in the crowd,” this solitary visionary,
Posing, clandestinely….
Opposed, resented, her voice an anomaly.
But listen closely,
And you’ll hear the call,
Of millions marching tall.
Demanding freedom, justice, for all.

In every corner….
Hundreds of thousands of broken hearts arise.
In unison, beneath the purple skies.
Swimming with the colors that blend.

A pool of red, green, black, and white,
Symbols of the resistance.
A Banner of Emancipation.
Floating in whirlwinds,
A moment so profound,
As the crowd of solidarity, compounds.

She marches alone in the shadows,
Harboring the weight of dissent.
Against the currents,
Her voice a stone.
Her identity unknown.
But the Trumpet will be blown,
And all shall be known.

Truth trumps the lies.
Carried by cowardice, and the “evil eyes.”

She is reminded of dismay from her beloved,
Burdened with fear, pleading for her silence.
Urging retreat, with apprehension.
Yet, in every march, poem, tweet, post,
Forging through fire with passion,
she reveals her firm stance.

From the rain, she seeks cover.
Maybe the crown will protect her.
Or vanquish her.
But her determination is clear.
She is now here…without fear…
Within this Plaza of Freedom.

A desolate crusade, just this one time.
Yet the world elevates her climb.
Wrapping her in their arms…Finally.
A welcoming community.
In the quest for justice, to earnestly belong.
No more abandoned, neglected, forgotten, in lonesome song.

The Invisible Revolutionary,
Hidden on screen,
In defiance of this dance of the unseen.
But Allah sees this vagabond.
In this magical juncture, battling despond.
She is aware… He is there.

Unseen in the crowd, yet bold.
As her story of resilience unfolds.
With firm trust in divine justice.
Upholding the truce of the righteous.

The violence must end this time.
Onwards, and forever, marching toward a Free Palestine.

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Thank you for reading. I plan to update this post with a painting connected to this piece very soon. But I just wanted to put this new piece of work on my blog before the end of the summer.

In Solidarity, Peace, Warmth, and Blessings,

Your Sister, Dr. Elsa, Warrior KQueen

“She wasn’t looking for a Knight. She was looking for a Sword.” – Atticus

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Thank you for reading and engaging!

You can learn more about me here. If you feel inspired by my writing and would like to support me, you are welcome to do so HERE.

I also welcome discussion. Please feel free to use the comments section below. Thank you, I wish you well on your academic, writing, and artistic journey!

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