the revolution will not be chopped and screwed. there will be no forced engineering of words made to slip away from singers’ tongues at a rate that dances limply enough to sound like a lullaby. there will be only the staccato of heartbeats emboldened by new oxygen in our veins. the revolution will…
Sweet and docile,
Meek, humble, and kind:
Beware the day
They change their mind.”
On the morning of George Zimmerman’s acquittal of Trayvon Martin’s murder earlier this year, with the mainstream media raising the specter of riots, blogger Jay Smooth made a prediction: ‘The fundamental danger of an acquittal is not more riots, it is more George Zimmermans.’
There were no riots. There have been more George Zimmermans."
And torn from Black Africa’s strand I came
To build a “homeland of the free.”
Who said the free? Not me?
Surely not me? The millions on relief today?
The millions shot down when we strike?
The millions who have nothing for our pay?
For all the dreams we’ve dreamed
And all the songs we’ve sung
And all the hopes we’ve held
And all the flags we’ve hung,
The millions who have nothing for our pay—
Except the dream that’s almost dead today.
O, let America be America again—
The land that never has been yet—
And yet must be—the land where every man is free.
The land that’s mine—the poor man’s, Indian’s, Negro’s, ME—
Who made America,
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,
Must bring back our mighty dream again.
Yesterday I got a call from my sister Cheeraz Gormon in St. Louis who was standing with poet Elizabeth Vega. They wanted me to know that a few women had created, on lawns, in the streets, healing stations, a place where the youth could come and scream and cry and be held and heard in love. Mighty work. — Dream Hampton
this made me cry.