Marius Mason: New Poetry

Support Marius Mason:

Cecil the lion: ‘We knew this is how he would die’ By David McKenzie, CNN

Give Me One Of Them

A dentist and his luggage arrive in Zimbabwe
Cash and carry-on, pushing the buttons of privilege and pardon
That his class feels heir to, a legacy
Of helmeted conquistadors in search of gold or something shiny
Those Roman envoys come for tribute from the territories
Legions come to kill, conquer or consume..like tourists
Greasing the palms of hired-hands – the Future’s traitors
Handing off their nation’s treasures to the clamoring idiots
“Give me one of them”, he roars, gesticulating wildly
The ugly American who can buy anything
It’s practically online shopping and no safari
When the trophy’s guaranteed (or your money back)
Swindled and stolen by subterfuge
An empty stomach so often a trap full of entanglements
And so another African will make a Middle Passage
As a corpse
The deed is done, and life converts to property
The ebony-tipped lion dubbed ‘Cecil’
Like an immigrant at Ellis Island changing names and nations all at once,
By bureaucrats who needed a familiar name in their own tongue
Unbecomes, falls into history
Ends his story and his line in blood
The collaborator, Honore`, will pay the price before the law,
But surely honor suffers even more
As the greedy foreign butcher slinks
Behind a sturdy Minnesota door
And we, the wild tribal Diaspora dispersed by birth
From Mother Africa, generations gone and
Scattered loose across the globe, like seeds
Will know ourselves one less

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Marius just completed Honeybee Democracy by Thomas D. Seeley.  Check back regularly for what Marius is reading and writing about!

“What’s more political than the question of expendability?” Barry Schwabsky
With clouds on the horizon spotted,
Have we decided yet?
Who will ride the ark with us,
Protected from our floods and pestilences
In valuable concubinage-
And who will sail instead into Eternity? These honeybees, so small
Among the lilies of the field,
That we might miss them altogether,
Especially the rushing bipeds travelling through
A plastic, frantic world
Lives lived indoors, cramped and strangers to the sun.
But the bees make music working
through their quiet summer days, even if there is no one to hear
In fields and orchards, lawns and meadows
Tending their life’s work
And our own as well.
The tiny fuzzy fairies falling
Prey to a darker pall
That spreads a shadow everywhere
The approaching silent spring soon
Minus singing bees
Who, as it turns out,
Are much less expendable than we

 

Bill Dunne: August 25th RDTW statement

Salutations and Felicitations to all the RDTW comrades!

Running Down The Walls has become a fine and honored tradition on our side of the barricade. I could run like the wind in past RDTWs even where I ran alone because the sense of solidarity took away the pain of physical exertion and of distance from my community – from you all. This year, unfortunately, I will be unable to physically run with you. I’ve been relegated to FCI Herlong’s dungeon because in the agency of repression’s mythology, an anonymous note purports that I’m planning to run from them. It was most likely written by a person of the porcine persuasion actually worried I might be planning more litigation. But so it goes in life with big brother! I will be with you this day nevertheless, if not in person, in mind, in heart, in solidarity as you – as we – run, walk, roll, move however we can down the road to revolution. See you closer to the finish line!

Bill Dunne, FCI Herlong, 25/Aug/15

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Write to Bill:

Bill Dunne #10916-086
FCI Herlong
Federal Correctional Institution
P.O. Box 800
Herlong, CA 96113

Political Prisoners, Jaan Laaman and Alvaro Luna Hernandez on the life and death of Hugo ” Yogi Bear” Pinell

From Sacramento Prisoner Support:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

http://thejerichomovement.com/blog/death-and-life-hugo-pinell

Death and Life of Hugo Pinell

August 20, 2015
It was with true sadness that, on August 13th, I received the news that legendary California prison activist Hugo Pinell, was killed in a California prison. This is Jaan Laaman, your political prisoner voice and let me share a few thoughts about the life and death of this extraordinary man.

I never personally knew Hugo Pinell. The simple reason for that is because Hugo Pinell was locked up in California state prisons for 50 years! That is insane. It is hard to wrap you mind around the reality of someone being held captive for 50 years. Even more insane, for most of those years he was held in isolation-segregation cells.

Hugo was just released from segregation and it is being reported that he was killed by two white prisoners. There was a serious uprising or riot that also took place at this time.

Hugo Pinell spent decades teaching, advocating and struggling for Human Rights, justice and dignity for prisoners. He taught and fought for racial and revolutionary unity among all prisoners. Locked up in 1965, like many other prisoners at that time, Hugo became politicized inside the California prison system. In addition to exploring his Nicaraguan heritage, Hugo was influenced by activists like Malcolm X, Martin Luther King, as well as his comrades inside, including George Jackson. His leadership in combating the racism and brutality of prison officials made him a prime target for retribution and Hugo soon found himself in the notorious San Quentin Adjustment Center.

While in San Quentin, Hugo and five other politically conscious prisoners were charged with participating in the August 21, 1971 rebellion, which resulted in the assassination of George Jackson by prison guards on that day. Hugo Pinell, Willie Tate, Johnny Spain, David Johnson, Fleeta Drumgo and Luis Talamantez became known as the San Quentin Six. They had a very public 16 month trial. The San Quentin Six became a global symbol of unyielding resistance against the prison system and its violent, racist design. Hugo spent decades in segregation, but continued to work for racial unity and human rights for prisoners.

Personally, I am of course upset that a brother like Hugo was killed, by what I have to assume were some reactionary fascist minded prisoners. But truly what I mainly feel is sadness, profound sadness at this news.

Hugo Pinell is gone. His bid, his sentence is now ended. After 50 years of captivity, that is not a bad thing. Even as an elderly person, in his 70’s, Hugo Pinell died in the struggle. The hands that struck him down, it is reported, were prisoners, but the actual force that killed him was the capitalist police state prison system that holds 2.2 million men, women and children in captivity.

Hugo Pinell, we will remember you brother and your strong life long example of resistance. We will continue this resistance and this struggle for Freedom.

This is Jaan Laaman.” 10372-016 USP Tucson, AZ 85734

Eric King: New Support Material and Update on fundraiser

From Support Eric King:

So first of all I would love to announce that our primary fundraiser goal has been met thanks to his amazing comrades! We are so excited overwhelmed by everyone’s solidarity be it donating to the fundraiser,  making sure Eric stays connected by dropping him a letter or even by sending him a book. We will continue to be taking donations and also “selling” t-shirts on his fundraiser.

https://fundrazr.com/campaigns/0yoZc/ab/a4jVK6

We received an amazing zine that was beautifully put together and sent to us by Causerie Publishing. We wanted to share it with all of Eric’s supporters. Take a second to read it, pass it on, or print it out for tabling. It is a great collection of his poems and writings.

eric king writings zine

We do want to add that we had a little bit of outdated possible sentence info up and he is actually facing life. Luckily thanks to the group Supporting Vegans in the Prison System Eric never had to go on the hunger strike!

“Until we are free” a poem by Eric King

From Support Eric King:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My wrists are chained cold

but my heart beats pure lava

waiting for your image to grace

the 12 inch screen that contains my dreams

fingertips graze the screen, can you feel me?

60 minutes until lights go out

why can’t I freeze time just once?

why can’t we both have what we want?

I want to live in your deep almond eyes

somewhere safe where we can always hide

where we can turn off the pain & turn off the lights

panic sets in, when the thoughts begin

what if I never see my love again?

every second separated is its own lifetime

trying to focus now on every expression

cause goddammit when you are gone I need to remember

before we’re staring at blanks and the clock reads zero

is your flight boarding to carry you away from me?

i’ll see you in my dreams

until we are free

Chile: Words from anarchist prisoner Sergio Álvarez in memory of Sebastián ‘Angry’ Oversluij

From Insurrection News:

Insurrection News received and translated:

Greetings comrades, I write these words and give them all my love in response to the call for a week of action in memory of our fallen brother in combat Sebastián Oversluij that was carried out this week.

In my current position as a prisoner it has been hard to find out many details about this but in the context of the individual and collective actions undertaken by comrades outside there arises in me the need to contribute, although it is a minimum gesture of solidarity, it is important to use whatever weapons are available to continue in a combative manner to remember a comrade who gave his life and his death in the struggle against Power, Authority and all of it’s Domination.

This is why on Thursday along with comrade Ignacio Muñoz who is imprisoned in module 34, we fasted in solidarity, understanding that our bodies can and should be positioned as one more front from where we can attack. And although fasting or hunger strikes did not correlate with the character of this particular call for action which was  more focused on street graffiti, banners, posters, leaflets etc; I believe that each individual with every one of their circumstances, possibilities and contexts should contribute instances that arise from their memories and seek to generate a projectuality of the conflict.

This is how I have understood this gesture for Angry, as an exercise of combative memory, for although we have only known each other in a tangential manner, we were able to connect via the tensions that mobilize our bodies, via the principles that guide us, each on their own path towards total liberation.

I value these instances but I feel that to be limited to only one type of action, as in this case the visual propaganda, is to mute the potentiality of actions that can be born of impulses and feelings of complicity with Angry that range from how to breathe this dirty air up to the exercise of the nihilistic / anti-authoritarian / anarchic minority violence.

I believe that it is necessary to multiply each of the methods that we have to confront Power, therefore it must be remembered in a practical way how the comrade died – expropriating a bank in rejection of wage-earning work, and how he aspired to live life free and autonomously in direct combat with the values and conventions imposed by the society of domination. That’s why I believe that these moments are opportunities for meeting accomplices and creating informal affinity networks to enrich and nourish us. Well, this is all that I have to say for the time being. A huge hug to those who continue to fight both in the prisons and on the street.

Sebastián Oversluij “Angry” present!

NOTHING HAS ENDED, EVERYTHING CONTINUES
Long Live Anarchy

Missing and waiting for a new meeting with you my brothers and sisters.

Sergio H. Álvarez
Anarchist Anti-Authoritarian & Nihilistic Prisoner
Module 33, Santiago Prison Number 1

******
(Original Spanish version of this text can be read HERE)

Remember the dead – Solidarity for the living by Brandon Baxter.

From Cleveland 4 Solidarity:

Originally published in Wildfire: Issue 2

Remember the dead – Solidarity for the living by Brandon Baxter.

Every day we spend in these cages is a day of our lives we will never get back. They are limited in the same way that there are only so many fingers on our hands; limbs on our bodies.

• All the cherished memories we will never have.
• All the moments we won’t have to hold onto.
• Each day, a piece of our lives, torn from us, like cutting off our fingers, one knuckle at a time.

The police once killed with impunity. Today they answer to the mob, The People’s Justice.

But the sad reality is that if Michael Brown were arrested and given a life sentence Ferguson would have never burned. He would have been mutilated, one day at a time. No one would have known his name, not even when he died in prison.

As of writing, the oppressed riot in Baltimore over the death of Freddie Gray at the hands of the police. The Left will, as always, attempt to recuperate this momentum. Indeed, I have read articles by these liberals defending looting as a legitimate form of protest.

…of protest…Is that all this is? Demanding reform; police accountability? Is this a problem to be solved by taxing the People hundreds of millions of dollars to put a body camera on every cop on the beat?

That’s the narrative we’re up against. And if the mob isn’t challenged to make a deeper analysis of the web of oppression it’s beginning to fight against, that is the reality we will face: more cops and an even more omnipresent surveillance state.

If Freddie Gray hadn’t died but were sitting in a holding tank, would there be any less reason for what’s taking place in Baltimore today?

• We must remember the dead. But the living are dying.
• Every day.
• Let’s try being a little less reactionary (it makes us predictable, taking away the advantages of spontaneity).

Let us channel this righteous fury into concise decisive strategy in our fight for the living.

New poems from Eric King

From Support Eric King:

“We Forget”

Hometown heroes forget we exist within morality

the person shooting up was once someone’s everything

cuddly kids call the president a primate, cause they hate his pigment

not racist if it’s politics just more social biggots

one pump of blood away from being a fleeting memory

once pump and pull away from an unwanted family

villains in our lives aren’t just symbols they’re existing

placing more importance on critical moments

instead of having joy in simply loving

rascal radicals ditching ethics and street battles

rather duplicate love w/bubble gum flavored capsules

loving all life in 8 hour segmants

then rushing off to the bathroom to get in line for seconds

as soon as the crash begins re-up or we’re all dead

every moment sober is a moment to forget

born with so much privilege we’ve forgotten how to live

all our positivity is wrapped with foil in the fridge

road splits to decency but we’ll never cross that bridge

can’t fight the state when our hands shake too much to make a fist

one more bump to get us going + we’ll swear life is bliss

creating all our drama so we created this

to be happy in this moment to recall what love is

“A poem about being institutionalized”

art found here http://apiedimonte.deviantart.com/art/Jail-cell-1of-2-39677420

There’s no more bridges

roses, flowers or gardens

mutual friendship is foreign

a dream like a soft mattress

territorial beast w/out their homes

no take out, just shake downs

felt to be disowned

only madness to look forward to

calender days an abstract time away

by the time they’ve parted  the gates

the whole world has changed

Marius Mason: New Poetry

From Support Marius Mason:

Wastewater Spill in Colorado

Untitled (The River Runs Yellow, August 2015)

The River ran Yellow in Colorado
When the river ran yellow past
The outfitter’s shack, kayaks lined up
Colorful, in Back
They could smell it coming first
Loaded with silt and clouds of poison
A heavy-hearted river full of sighs
Something rotten in the Animas
And coming downstream fast
The rainbow trout winking out like stars at dawn
And all the apocolyptic chemistry
Cascading and assailing invisibilia,
The magic microscopic lego-like pieces upon which
Everything is built
Begins a domino affect
A yellow light means caution, a warning
But Gold is King
So we careen through our intersection
With the world
Like a drunken teen in someone else’s car
Will we beat the light this time,
Or be hit by natural consequences?
Brace yourselves for impact

Untitled (August 2015)

Me, I’m Not
You , my friend, are a winner!
Ding, ding, ding
Happy happenstance in the living lottery
Genetically consistent maybe
Or just expected features
Yes, save that ticket, and no regrets
Watch local programming to see if
Circumstance graces your appropriate presentation,
and properly apportioned face
With its geranium kiss
At home in the temple of the soul
In fellowship, a member
Of the congregation at last
But me, I’m not
I’m just the beggar on the outside steps
Making everyone uncomfortable
So drop a coin in my bowl and meet my eye (I)
As you pass by
(and I do not)

Federal Appeals Court Rules Against Keith LaMar

From Lucasville Amnesty:

The United State Court of Appeals for the Sixth Circuit released it’s decision on Keith’s Dec 2nd appeal.

They found against Keith. This means Keith’s case progresses to the Ohio Adult Parole Board, who will set an execution date. Our next moves will be coming, but, first, here is Keith’s initial response to the news.

A statement from Keith LaMar/Bomani…

Hello Everybody:

I write this under the assumption that most if not all of you have heard the news: they turned down my appeal. I only recently found out myself and haven’t had the opportunity to read the actual Decision; when I receive it, I’ll extend my response. For now, just know that I am standing firm within myself and not at all wavering in my determination to continue the fight. As I see it, there’s only so much that we, as individuals, can do–and I feel confident that I did that. I wrote the book, spoke all over the country educating people about my plight. And I did this, not because I thought it would sway the courts, but to hopefully sway you to believe that something is inherently wrong with this system (and the country as a whole, to be perfectly candid). In the past few years and months, we have all sat back and watched as unarmed black men have been summarily executed in the streets, without a trial, jury, or the slightest pretense of justice; that being the case, it should come as no surprise that the courts shot me down. It’s upsetting, yes, but I’ve learned to navigate my disappointments my focusing on what to do next. It’s not over yet–and even if they succeed in murdering me, I won’t let that stop me from living my life NOW. I’m not going to unravel, or break down in a heap of sorrow. My understanding and faith is too strong for that. So, for all of you who are worried about me, I am okay. Mad as hell, no doubt, but no less so that when I heard about Tamir Rice, Eric Gardner, Mike Brown–and the rest. Hey, at least I got a trial, at least they went through the motions of pretending that they ever gave damn. I guess I should feel grateful (chuckle).

Again, I’ll write more in the next few days or so, as soon as I receive and read the Decision. Of course there will be the usual sounds coming from my attorneys, expressing their shock and concern. Don’t believe it. More than anybody, I blame them for not presenting the pertinent evidence, allowing the courts to rule in the way that they did. I have the statement from the actual perpetrator who ADMITTED to killing someone for whom I was sentenced to death. No amount of talk can persuade me that they had my best interest in mind. My grandfather used to say, “they piss on you and call it rain.” So that’s how I feel about that (them). For myself, I intend to keep building on the base that I’ve established, working with any and every body who is opposed to this monstrous system. Let’s come together, work together, and stop looking for the same people who profit from our pain to save us. It’s ridiculous! That’s all I have to say for now.

With love and solidarity,

Bomani Shakur

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Write to Bomani:
Keith LaMar
317-117
878 Coitsville-Hubbard Road
Youngstown, OH, 44505