More Meaningless Words?
More meaningless words?
I’ve survived minutes and hours and days and months and years on end where words were my only salvation
Words foreign and bewitching, frustrating and incomplete
as I walked
Past cell upon cell of men reduced to corpses
One fifteen minute shower per week
many times that’s just an excuse
for them to come in
and throw your shit in the trash
Wouldn’t want these dangerous elements to get some book ideas and word learnin’ would we?
Might think of rebellion.
They might Think.
Collude and conspire instead of collide and bicker
Words wielded in vengeance Words bled in life-blood on pages scrawled in agony
Words and symbols inscribed upon the dying flesh of Warriors caged
Too many names to recount gunned down by modern-day slave patrols
I met him
in a prison cell
and he’s still there
A few hours from the third largest city in this country.
But you’d never drive past there unless you parasitically lived life upon his flesh
The dying flesh & decomposing minds of superpredators too dangerous to walk the streets of Clinton-Bush-Obama-Clinton Capitalism-Imperialism
Not gangsta enough to out-gangsta the OGs in the game. Genocide, slavery, massacres of civilians – bro you ain’t as gangsta as Uncle Sam
That Predator drone ordered from the White House will shit on your whole family.
That torture cell in Guantanamo Abu Rikers Florence Cook County Stateville Pontiac Tamms Pelican Bay will be your grave
But yeah just keep telling yourself that it’s all good. Disregard the daily murders being committed by the United States government
The torture that “keeps you safe”
Don’t worry about the family wedding in Peshawar obliterated by a drone.
The concentration camps and death camps are not for you or your family.
Don’t stop believing.
That piece of shit flag really does represent freedom and democracy and valor and courage.
They Told Me.
I Was Given Orders.
I’ve looked into the eyes of those who will pull the trigger on us
Who will drive SWAT APCs over the skulls of children
To Protect And Serve.
Shit there’s motherfuckers who probably want me locked up or bumped off for just writing this shit.
And I ain’t nobody.
Logged. Recorded. Time-stamped. GPS positioned.
See me in the streets motherfuckers. I be there.
More times than I even want to be there.
If no one else is gonna stand up I will with whoever else will.
I’m tired man.
I’m running myself to death doing this shit.
And I have fallen way back already.
I’m tired of talking. I don’t want to organize a march or demo or panel or any other goddamn thing. They still killing 3 people every day
Locking mofos up like they hunting runaway slaves…. for standing on our own blocks and porches and shit
Anyhow fuck all these meaningless words.
But I’m gonna say what I gotta say wherever the fuck I am. If shit is bogus it’s bogus whoever doing it.
Not like it fucking matters what I say anyway.
I’m just electrons in the wind…
But I’ll be in the streets.
I’ll support the resistance.
If I have to I’ll organize what needs to be organized.
But I don’t want to.
Ain’t no glory in this shit.
Not looking for none.
Shit I had more comrades then.
In other cells.
You’ll hear from them soon enough.
If you listen.
Biding their time.
Feeding their rage on the blows of solitude and pepper spray.
But with love.
Because at one important particular point in my life, in those cells, I decided I would never be like the people who run this system. Ever.
But yeah whatever. More meaningless words.
Tokyo I like. Even though I don’t speak the language I had a great time there.
I don’t even go to fucking clubs but had a great time up in the club on Sunday – technically Monday…
Halfway around the globe from those cells…
With women who probably weren’t even born when they locked me up.
No disrespect to them at all. By any means.
But they don’t know where Stateville is
or who is locked up in ADX
Or who George Jackson is.
And they had no clue that I was in solitary confinement
when September 11 happened
or Abu Ghraib.
And had been in prison
That I grew up in the shadow of prison walls and gun towers.
That I turned 18
in a maximum security prison
built during the time of the Civil War.
And it didn’t matter.
In that moment.
In that club.
Halfway around the world.
“But let’s not talk about that”
has never been
my strong suitPosted in Thoughts