To Fight to Live
To fight to Live is a constant process, it requires daily work, which can be terribly tedious and horrendously mind numbing. My case is at an extremely critical stage so I do legal-organizing work all day everyday with little, very little time for any sort of relaxation.
Earlier I did find a little time to just chill and let my Consciousness explore some other areas; realms that I crave but don’t have a lot of time to venture into. I put the legal work I was working on to the side and read some of the autobiography of Miles Davis. Miles: Poet, Sage, great Jazz Griot. So I was on this evolutionary-revolutionary Jazz vibe and remembered that the Soular Grooves show was on KPFT (www.kpft.org).
I put my headphones on [and} let the music caress my mind and enliven my Spirit. Then I began to paint—painting for me is such a deeply moving experience. When I paint I’ll often enter into a deep shifted state of Consciousness, I’ll become at one with the work. Some Jazz-House-Fusion came on and poetry started flowing through my mind. I put my paintbrush down and hollered at my Cultural Enlightenment partner over here with a challenge: “Put it on KPFT. I don’t think you can handle that there, that heat is too serious! Let’s see if you can hang with this spoken word….”
Then, I dropped some free-style spoken-word poetry over the smooth Jazz-Fusion music. In the style of improvised Jazz (and Blues) back-and-forths we dropped poetry off the top of our minds vibing off the music. “O.K., O.K., we’re nice,” I said, “but let me drop this Assata”—and I read one of Assata Shakur’s poems over the music.
I believe in living. I believe in the spectrum
of Beta days and Gamma people.
I believe in sunshine
in windmills and waterfalls,
tricycles and rocking chairs.
And I believe that seeds grow into sprouts,
And sprouts grow into trees.
I believe in the magic of the hands.
And in the wisdom of the eyes.
I believe in rain and tears.
And in the blood of infinity.
I believe in life.
And I have seen the death parade
march through the torso of the earth,
sculpting mud bodies in its path.
I have seen the destruction of the daylight,
and seen the bloodthirsty maggots
prayed to and saluted.
I have seen the kind become the blind
and the blind become the bind
in one easy lesson.
I have walked on cut glass.
I have eaten crow and blunder bread
and breathed the stench of indifference.
I have been locked by the lawless.
Handcuffed by the haters.
Gagged by the greedy.
And, if I know anything at all,
it’s that a wall is just a wall
and nothing more at all.
It can be broken down.
I believe in living.
I believe in birth.
I believe in the sweat of love
and in the fire of truth.
And I believe that a lost ship,
steered by tired, seasick sailors,
can still be guided home
I love this poem. I think it really captures the essence of how I live in the Hell. I believe in Living. I believe in Life. I believe in the fire of Truth. I have a deep Love and Respect for everyone fighting for my Life with me, fighting for Truth with me. We really need more capable and dedicated to fight with us. I truly hope more people will get involved soon….
While this wonderfully eclectic music is still on I’m about to get back to vibing with my Cultural Enlightenment partner. We’ve been flirting around with Color Theory and we need to discuss some Kandinsky and Basquiat. Then back to work.
With Strength & Love: