Alice Walker

(9 February 1944 - / Eatonton Georgia)

Our Martyr - Poem by Alice Walker

When the people
have won a victory
whether small
or large
do you ever wonder
at that moment
where the martyrs
might be?
They who sacrificed
themselves
to bring to life
something unknown
though nonetheless more precious
than their blood.
I like to think of them
hovering over us
wherever we have gathered
to weep and to rejoice;
smiling and laughing,
actually slapping each other's palms
in glee.
Their blood has dried
and become rose petals.
What you feel brushing your cheek
is not only your tears
but these.
Martyrs never regret
what they have done
having done it.
Amazing too
they never frown.
It is all so mysterious
the way they remain
above us
beside us
within us;
how they beam
a human sunrise
and are so proud.


Comments about Our Martyr by Alice Walker

  • (6/2/2019 8:23:00 PM)

    I was sent here to write a comment about a poem. I was planning on writing a half hearted comment about a poem I half read but, I can say after actually actually going back and reading this poem I can say I love this poem it really touched my heart with the strong words and use of imagery. Thank you for this experience. (Report)Reply

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  • (1/25/2016 7:20:00 PM)

    losers bow their heads
    and proceed to their
    locker room and vanish
    from tv...this today
    (Report)Reply

    0 person liked.
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Poem Submitted: Friday, March 16, 2012

Poem Edited: Friday, March 16, 2012


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