- End Indefinite Restrictive Housing in TDCJ (1/29/2023)
- Stop Deprivation of Food in Nevada (1/15/2023)
- We Demand Our Grievances are Addressed in Nevada (1/15/2023)
- Boycott Juneteenth: End Mass Incarceration and Solitary (1/09/2023)
- Stop Censorship of Non-Nude Publications and Photos - Repeal BP-3.91 (11/05/2022)
- Texas update, Increasing Censorship, Increasing Unity
- ULK 80: MIM(Prisons) Update
- Commentary on Gunnas Stop
- Gender, Nation and Class Divides - Discussion of ULK 79
- Sorting Out a Defense of Kyrie Irving
How I Plead?
when dey ask me
am i guilty?
or did i do it?
you commit the murder?
they say you killed someone
did you do it?
did you do it?
hmm hmm hmm?
dey gave me my first homicide
at eighteen years old
i never asked for it
dey made sure i brought it
and i fought it
even though i couldn't
even afford it
so i was made to
to have paid for it
so it's no turning back
after the first murder
i didn't want it
now yes i have
ever since then
i do kill...
i kill imperialism
i kill capitalism
i kill colonialism
i kill racism
i kill white supremacy
i kill sexism
i kill religion
i kill holy'ism
i am holier than thou
the good negro
righteous until i die
A Nation's Metamorphosis
The silhouette of his shadow which is cast upon the dirty concrete floor has finally become his only true trusted yard companion yet even then his cautionary ways still cause him to entertain a certain shadow of a doubt. Wondering if he can afford to exhale with a strong sense of content.
Is it safe to simply assume that it's a solidified fact that his shadow will always have his back? Or is that simply psychological lore?
If solitary forms of confinement nothing more than a plotted plan to lure, bait and seek out the weak.
If the only true permanent fact found in the parable of "anything behind the back will eventually try to attack."
If that should be the case, then how does one strategically wage an effective battle against his own damn shadow?
Is this a simple reflection of a parable and rhyme of a true reclusive mind or is it actually a classic example of a chicken shit battle of a man scared of his own damn shadow?
Although I believe this poem is somewhat entertaining, I simply used it as a vehicle to express something much deeper. That would be the psychological toll that it takes on one's mind when they are subjected to years of solitary confinement. Especially after being entwined one way or another in continuous acts of bloody violence all in the spirit of survival.
Sometimes trying to preserve one's way of life. Other times defending one's belief system. Or simply trying to stay alive to push forward and fight another day.
Adding to the mix and price of the psychological toll is the back stabbing acts of betrayal by those you once cared for, trusted, and in many ways still love. Amongst many other psychological issues it becomes extremely hard to know who and when to trust as your actual life and freedom can depend on it.
The stakes are high and the toll is heavy, so paranoia can and does run deep and rapid.
Shut Down the Control Units
Born With a Voice
I was born with a voice, but couldn't form words to speak
' When I learned to speak, it was mainly ignorance of things portrayed to me in the media
I've always been interested in politiks, but had limited knowledge.
If you woulda told me prisoner were operated at a loss, I woulda told you you were crazy, no one would do that.
I learned how to read, but read nothing with real knowledge
I learned science, but only about volcanoes
I learned history, from edited text books
Now I wake up every day, behind a lock
My days are filled with evolution
I'm learning how to read books with knowledge
I'm learning science about social reality
I'm learning history that's not been edited
I was born with a voice, now I'm learning how to speak
Now I'm Under Lock & Key
Sleepwalking to the sound
Of captains and ships
Molten hot chains
Bond to the ignorant and lost
Each metallic clang! Each step
Down towards the cliff
Where freedom has been willingly
To their masters
Happily at the will of their own
That taketh away
Revolution and freedom
Reigns in my bones
To break the chains
Off of my brothers and sisters
Shedding the light towards
The happily oppressed
For they have forgotten
The legends and stories
Of their ancestors;
Sweat and blood on their brows
Brainwash a Younging
I was thugging trying to make no-thing into something
After seeing those who had it all while us who was out there struggling
Thinking that there has to be another way for all of us to get fair play
But these x-men made crooked scales so they can capitalize
As long as their bellies are overfulled it doesn’t matter if I get killed
Slaving for minimum wages so my family may have food and supplies
Then to have obstacles laid in front of me after I open my all seeing eye
That the only way is the natural way & that is to communize
No big you’s & no little I’s
But that has no money coming out of it
So that’s why the 10 has to lie
They don’t want to share the pie
So sad that they’re gone fry
Under Ground Revolutionary
I'd rather die for the people
Than bow to the enemy
I will never be a cog
In this so-called penitentiary
United in the struggle
With my comrades i will stand
Equality reigns supreme
For every single human
We fight to end oppression
We'll educate to overthrow
If we unite and organize
They will never stop the flow
So if i'm speaking revolution
You need to open up your mind
Listen to the truth i'm spitting
Pay attention then you'll find
We're giving power to the people
Red banners flying high
Raised proudly to the sky!
To know yourself
I have all this knowledge, but it’s collecting dust on the shelf.
Man, I need some help,
But what’s the point when I have a teacher and I don’t value his wealth?
Am I conscience that I am in the belly of the beast?
Or did the imperialist induce me dumb and asleep?
Am I so far gone that I cannot be reached?
Is my third eye too calcified that I can not seek?
That New Afrikans can have better opportunities to increase?
And free all political prisoners plus the great sheiks?
Even if it cost me, my family to not deal with me when I am released?
These are the questions I ask myself to see if I’m still mentally deceased, and if I am; may the Allah in me drown me in the knowledge of self so I can be a valuable piece.
To aid & assist all my brothers and sisters in this beautiful struggle for New Afrikan peace.
Darkness & Fire
Fire is this time in solitary.
Outside my window — darkness.
Gaining strength at a fiery pace,
this knowledge I must harness.
Fire is this time in solitary,
burning me like a thousand suns.
But the swords are forged in the hottest fires,
so I sharpen my faith so it's compared to none.
Outside my window — darkness;
freedom can seem afar.
But we must always remember,
it takes a certain darkness to see the stars.