A journal dedicated to truth, freedom of speech and radical spiritual consciousness. Our mission is the liberation of men and women from oppression, violence and abuse of any kind, interpersonal, political, religious, economic, psychosexual. We believe as Fidel Castro said, "The weapon of today is not guns but consciousness."
Saturday, January 11, 2014
Marvin X: A call to hunger strike for Syria and the hoods of America
Marvin X, a founding figure of the 1960s flowering of the Black Arts Movement in the U.S., believes the struggle for justice worldwide is one. He joins his powerful voice to the International Solidarity Hunger Strike for Syria--and links it to his strong ongoing activism against genocide and fratricide in the 'hoods of America. Marvin's son of blessed memory was once held and interrogated by the Syrian dictatorship's state security agents, as he has written about eloquently on his blog, Black Bird Press News, named after one of Marvin's early plays that was produced in community theaters across the U.S. during the 1970s. Not one to be fooled by the police state's claims of "anti-imperialism" nor to give it a pass for oppression based on such claims, Marvin has been with us from the start. #GRATITUDE
Thanks to the organizers of Day of Solidarity with Syria - global demonstrations on Saturday, January 11. London, Dublin and Malmo, Sweden will also have groups doing a Solidarity Hunger Strike on that day. Check out their info and attend the demonstration in your area. There are demonstrations in Syria; Vienna, Austria; Milano, Como Genova, Bologna, Ancona, Roma, Napoli, Palermo, and Lecce in It...aly; Munich Stuttgart, Freiburg, Heidelberg, Frankfurt, Aachen, Cologne, Hamburg, Dortmund in Germany; Helsinki, Finland; Amsterdam, Netherlands; Barcelona, Granada and Seville in Spain; Paris and Montpelier in France; Montreal in Canada; Mexico City in Mexico; Nairobi in Kenya; Warsaw in Poland; Cairo in Egypt; Antwerp in Belgium; Lausanne in Switzerland; Buenos Aires in Argentina; Los Angeles and Washington in the U.S. https://www.facebook.com/solidaysyriaSee More
Two Poems for the People of Syria by Marvin X and Mohja Kahf
how much water can run from rivers to sea
how much blood can soak the earth
the guns of tyrants know no end
a people awakened are bigger than bullets
there is no sleep in their eyes
no more stunted backs and fear of broken limbs
even men, women and children are humble with sacrifice
the old the young play their roles
with smiles they endure torture chambers
with laughs they submit to rape and mutilations
there is no victory for oppressors
whose days are numbered
as the clock ticks as the sun rises
let the people continue til victory
surely they smell it on their hands
taste it on lips
believe it in their hearts
know it in their minds
no more backwardness no fear
let there be resistance til victory.
--Marvin X/El Muhajir
Syrian poet/professor Dr. Mohja Kahf
Oh Marvin, how much blood can soak the earth?
The angels asked, “will you create a species who will shed blood
and overrun the earth with evil?”
And it turns out “rivers of blood” is no metaphor:
see the stones of narrow alleys in Duma
shiny with blood hissing from humans? Dark
and dazzling, it keeps pouring and pumping
from the inexhaustible soft flesh of Syrians,
and neither regime cluster bombs from the air,
nor rebel car bombs on the ground,
ask them their names before they die.
They are mowed down like wheat harvested by machine,
and every stalk has seven ears, and every ear a hundred grains.
They bleed like irrigation canals into the earth.
Even one little girl in Idlib with a carotid artery cut
becomes a river of blood. Who knew she could be a river
running all the way over the ocean, to you,
draining me of my heart? And God said to the angels,
“I know what you know not.” But right now,
the angels seem right. Cut the coyness, God;
learn the names of all the Syrians.
See what your species has done.
Marvin X Poem fa da Hood Memorial Day, 2007 I am a veteran Not of foreign battlefields Like my father in world war one My uncles in world war two And Korea Or my friends from Vietnam And even the Congo “police action” But veteran none the less Exiled and jailed because I refused To visit Vietnam as a running dog for imperialism So I visited Canada, Mexico and Belize Then Federal prison for a minute But veteran I am of the war in the hood The war of domestic colonialism and neo-colonialism White supremacy in black face war Fighting for black power that turned white Or was always white as in the other white people So war it was and is Every day without end no RR no respite just war For colors like kindergarten children war For turf warriors don’t own and run when popo comes War for drugs and guns and women War for hatred jealousy Dante got a scholarship but couldn’t get on the plane The boyz in the hood met him on the block and jacked him Relieved him of his gear shot him in the head because he could read Play basketball had all the pretty girls a square The boyz wanted him dead like themselves Wanted him to have a shrine with liquor bottles and teddy bears And candles Wanted his mama and daddy to weep and mourn at the funeral Like all the other moms and dads and uncle aunts cousins Why should he make it out the war zone The blood and broken bones of war in the hood No veterans day no benefits no mental health sessions No conversation who cares who wants to know about the dead In the hood the warriors gone down in the ghetto night We heard the Uzi at 3am and saw the body on the steps until 3 pm When the coroner finally arrived as children passed from school I am the veteran of ghetto wars of liberation that were aborted And morphed into wars of self destruction With drugs supplied from police vans Guns diverted from the army base and sold 24/7 behind the Arab store. Junior is 14 but the main arms merchant in the hood He sells guns from his backpack His daddy wants to know how he get all them guns But Junior don’t tell cause he warrior He’s lost more friends than I the elder What can I tell him about death and blood and bones He says he will get rich or die trying But life is for love not money And if he lives he will learn. If he makes it out the war zone to another world Where they murder in suits and suites And golf courses and yachts if he makes it even beyond this world He will learn that love is better than money For he was once on the auction block and sold as a thing For money, yes, for the love of money but not for love And so his memory is short and absent of truth The war in the hood has tricked him into the slave past Like a programmed monkey he acts out the slave auction The sale of himself on the corner with his homeys Trying to pose cool in the war zone I will tell him the truth and maybe one day it will hit him like a bullet In the head It will hit him multiple times in the brain until he awakens to the real battle In the turf of his mind. And he will stand tall and deliver himself to the altar of truth to be a witness Along with his homeys They will take charge of their posts They will indeed claim their turf and it will be theirs forever Not for a moment in the night But in the day and in the tomorrows And the war will be over No more sorrow no more blood and bones No more shrines on the corner with liquor bottles teddy bears and candles.
--Marvin X 25 May 2007 Brooklyn NY
Memorial Day appears in the anthology Stand Our Ground, for Trayvon Martin and Melissa Alexander. Marvin X tour dates 2014
Marvin X reads at New York University on February 4, 2014, at a tribute for poet Jayne Cortez.
February 22 he will read at the Hinton Center, Fresno CA.
February 24 he will read at Fresno City College
February 28, March 1-2, he will co-produce (with Kim McMillan) the Black Arts Movement Conference, University of California, Merced.
For more information or to invite Marvin X to your campus and/or conference, call 510-200-4164. Send letter of invitation to firstname.lastname@example.org.