by BAR poet-in-residence Raymond Nat Turner
Still the syn-tactical surgeon
With precision pen, atomic tenor,
Suturing my severed tongue
AB
by BAR poet-in-residence Raymond Nat Turner
Ho Chi Minh penned in
Prison Poems, the
Poet must also
Know how to lead an attack
Not a god or stamp, you
Are still my father, son and
Holy-ghost, post-Langston,
Sterling poet warrior
Still the syn-tactical surgeon
With precision pen, atomic tenor,
Suturing my severed tongue
Still the armory
Issuing anti-fracking ordinance
For strikes on Mengeles
At Monsanto
Still the arsenal
Supplying smart bombs for
Our war on government-guided
Attack-Negroz like
Da Men of Steele — Shelby and
Michael — Long Dong Silver, AKA,
Thom-Ass Clarence, Ward Connerly,
Colin Powell and dem imperialist Rice wenches…
I searched frantically for you at the end
Of the Apollo’s Sekou Sundiata celebration;
I jumped over a chair, just missing you, at
The Harlem Stage tribute to Abbey Lincoln;
Finally, caught you at the Schomburg’s
Langston Hughes Auditorium, at the
Fidel-Malcolm Meeting book talk—
Forgave you for slipping
On Iceberg Slim, and
Told you, “I LOVE YOU…”
Raymond Nat Turner © 2014 All Rights Reserved
This week I’m reporting from Caracas, Venezuela.
Melanie Dominguez is lead organizer for the Katal Center for Equity, Health and Justice.
As the empire crumbles, the neoliberal capitalist order run by a corrupt duopoly is working to silence dissent. The Black left, of course, is always the first target.
A reminder of when Accra was at the center of struggles against nuclear imperialism. African people have always been at the forefront of peace and sanity.
I spoke to Maurice Carney, Executive Director of Friends of the Congo, about the virtual slave labor in the cobalt mines of the Democratic Republic of the Congo’s cobalt mines.
