I refuse to do many things. When I was young I refused on a different way: “for the good that I would, I do not; but the evil which I would not, that I do.” Not that I should, yet I suffer all the same. And it was only Rage that gave me some understanding – allowed me to endure. Rage and I have become friends. Rage started to whisper in my ear then became a whirlwind in my heart. I’m like a contained hurricane crashing into unbreakable walls, but Rage said that “drops on the boulder will eventually wear it to a pebble.”
My attitude makes me a target- this stubbornness which gives an air to myself like I don’t have on prison whites. They see me with different eyes. I walk like there’s a mission in my boots. And they don’t like that. They want to shackle my …NO! They want to take a chain and spiral it around my whole body. They want me immobile, because my movements create insurgencies. My eyebrows are subversive simply because they RISE! My flaring nostrils are like spit on their face. They swear – “muthafucker”, we’re going to break you!” And I have a grin that fires back like a raggedy 9mm ruger that ricochets when it shoots.
I’m ether, and Rage is my friend. Hate has knocked on my door many times, like the day my child, with big brown sweet potato eyes, said: “Do you think they’ll let me come back there and give you a hug?” I had to imprison my emotions. I threatened them not to pour. And Hate said “HELLO” in the most beautiful harmony and wanted to know if he could come in and play music in my world. I then remembered how my grandfather walks with a very straight back – elegant steps – after 25 years of prison with my father, 10 years of death row with me, plus knowing bigotry in his time that we’ll never know; and I remembered Jesus turning tables in the temple and I said to myself that these men weren’t Haters- they were Ragers which were Lovers though not being content. And I knew that I would be the same when I told my child -”No, it doesn’t work that way”- and I saw that she did not slump or pout, but gave that familiar frown, I knew that determination was set in our bones and a kiss from behind the glass was a covenant sealed with a meaning: that there would be accountability.
And that was Rage- the sweetest determination to not bow, but knowing when to be humble- like to those that fly thousands of miles, make the calls, do the emails, talk the shit when needed! I’m not here to knock the candle holders, the morality seekers and the ones who pray. I do know that James said- “Faith without works is DEAD!” – and in Texas it seems that all people got Faith in is that people ARE going to die. That’s why my prayers are likes tornadoes, ‘cause Paul said “Pray without cease.” So, I move like a Samurai warrior – the most harmonized fighting technician – which is needed against the most uncivilized killing machine.
I have to clarify this “war” we’re under – it’s really spiritual, because in a real was there’s casualties on both sides … but we’re the only ones dying. Thus why this is GENOCIDE!
Thus why I’m dedicated to leave an affirmation amongst those who only statement was – “I don’t care anymore.” But I do! And the new slogan is: “Be nice to Amerika or they’ll bring Democracy to you.” Amerika wants to market Guantanamo Bay’s. They’ll be accessible like Home Depots in every city. They think I’m asking for pity, but Rage says- “Demand P.E.A.C.E!” (Positive Education Always Corrects Error). Until then I’ll give ‘em petitions – and I don’t mean paper; I mean a persistent nagging pain in their side until they seek balm. And if they put me on that cross be sure to check my palms, ‘cause it’s all the same.
You see, I got fuel in my veins. This is beyond adrenaline – it’s more like nitroglycerin or a Molotov cocktail saying “HERE I AM!” to the helmets of fascists trying to smother out all my hopes. See, I used to be angry until I realized anger is momentary madness, which is unacceptable in an environment bred to exist in perpetual pandemonium. Plus, he who angers you, conquers you. I got rid of that and got me some uncut kerosene. I got this finely weaved Patriot Act noose wrapped around my throat and this fuel got me smart enough to keep a razor tucked under my tongue so I can cut myself down, because no one is around to help me. I need binoculars to find them. They’re so far away.
They’ve blocked my screams like an unwanted email; said I was a virus fucking everything up. Got everything in a frenzy. I said better now then when that potassium chloride got heart valves convulsing.
I’m not going to surrender this Rage which makes me talk to you this way. If you wanted polite you should have been a librarian. Then you got all the quiet you want. You wouldn’t have to hear Lamont Reese scream – “I DID NOT WALK TO THIS BECAUSE THIS IS STRAIGHT UP MURDER!” you can avoid the gurgles and gasps – the laughs of victim’s rights groups. I’m just trying to grasp you the same way they did Justin Fuller when he refused to walk to his execution and he balled up on the floor and they picked him up and THREW him into the van. Had Tony Ford banging on his window to show solidarity, so they sent him to solitary for “Disturbance.” They said – “Don’t speak up for NOBODY! Not even your damned self.” What’s left, but to embrace being a rebel?
We’re already outcasted. Ones now assist in bucking executions. Met some gas! They lock us down on execution dates now. We refusing to surrender what’s left now – Rage!
Pastor John prayed with me; said – “Lord, we don’t need people catching a ride, we need people to DRIVE!” So, I’m at the wheel like Evel Knievel trying to pull a stunt. Trying to defy some odds. If I can’t get Freedom, I’ll free-dumb. If I can’t get Liberation, I’ll Liberate-a-nation by being a reflection, not an example. Examples are people who don’t protest their execution. Reflections are revolutionaries whom are murdered for rebelling against their own repression.
I’m married to Rage too – she be a Javlin flying through the wind hitting my enemies in the throat. I’m a weed that keeps breaking the concrete. I’m insidious. I’m serious! My Rage makes me seditious, and I’ll continue to be. I’ll continue to be in a Rage, because the day I surrender it I’ll become a victim and surely my Humanity will cease to be.
They want us to believe people aren’t redeemable and must be thrown out like trash. Rage says – “NO!” They want us to believe that 40-year sentences means rehabilitation. Rage says – “Stop being dumb asses!” They want us to be fearful and disempowered. Rage says – “Wake Up! Stand Up!” I can’t tell you this enough.
A person with outward Rage dares to die; A person with inward Rage dares to live. People – I know both; and I’ll tell you this – when repression and eradication step on your throat, Rage will become the best friend you’ve ever known. Tap into it or you will most definitely be tapped out.
Aluta Continua
Haramia KiNassor
