Balanta

Fred
George, Malcolm, & Che

Have been my guiding light
As my world turns.

Sitting in the same cages
They sat in before me
Reading the words they left
But connected to them through
Shared suffering pain & anger
As my soul burns.

Rather die on my feet than
Live on my knees!
But talk like that could find
You somewhere on a nice night
Swinging from trees,
With your head bent high
Shoe laces undone catching
The breeze.

Or being shot to death in your
Bed with your pregnant woman while
The enemy yells “freeze?”
But I’m asleep!
God you love me don’t you?

I wept when I read that!

But those are tears we’ll all
Get a chance to cry.
I just pray that’s not a
Death I ever get a chance to
Die
Jesus you love me don’t you?

There’s an evolution to revolution
One that he’s in the perception of the oppression

Malcolm showed me that clarity
Comes with severity

Big emotions! Loud voices
Big impact can come from small
Choices.

Martin took strength from
Gandhi & the Bible
Mandela and Sundiata spoke of
Something more tribal.

Seeing the best parts of me
Go with their death

Following the prints they left
In the sand allows me to speak
With their breath

Kyla, you love me don’t you?
To be well read, is to be
Well fed & without the lessons
Of my teachers I would
Be, well ????? DEAD

And sincere thanks to Briscoe
Bush Woods and the Washington-El’s
For arming me with these guiding
Lights every time I stepped foot in
Your cells.