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Prison and Spirituality
By
Marvin X
Your mind is in prison.—Malcolm
X
America is a prison house. We exist
in the big yard where we are allowed a few liberties,
otherwise known as zoozoos and whamwhams. We can walk
and talk with friends, be with loved ones, go to the
movies, attend a concert, but we are closely watched,
our mail is read, phones tapped, and it has been like
this for decades, ever since college when we were
followed home each night. When we speak in public,
agents are there. We see them, smell them, feel them,
black devils with the vibe of hatred for Black. They
take note of our comments, crowd reaction.
We are not terrorists, we only speak
the truth. We have no weapons, no guns, no bombs, except
the truth. When they want, we are taken from the big
yard and put into the dungeon, handcuffed, feet chained.
It was for some minor infraction, a traffic ticket or
failing the tone test with an officer. One thing leads
to another, a little thing becomes a big thing. There
was a fight with an officer, a beat down. Thrown into a
cell bleeding. There is court. There is no justice. The
court is rigged. The judge said my crime was telling too
much truth. I was taken away to prison. On the way into
the prison I had smelled dead fish, but I would soon
discover it was not dead fish I was smelling but dead
nigguhs who were faking and playing games like they used
to do in the big yard. They were dangerous. I had
observed them in jail. They would snitch for a meal,
extra food, the privilege of watching TV, especially
dangerous were the dope fiends. They didn't want to hear
any truth. They had me moved off the main line and put
in a special section for truth tellers.
When I got into the prison, the
warden sent for me. He said he just wanted to meet me,
see if I had anything I needed. I said I needed to go
home. He laughed. He said I need to stop telling the
truth. It scares people. He had my report that people
were afraid of me out in the big yard. They were afraid
of losing their jobs if caught talking with me or
reading my writings. He told me to let him know if I had
any problem. I told him I would. I returned to my cell.
Some brothers asked me to meet with
them on the prison yard. They held an election and said
I was the minister of truth. Another brother was the
secretary of truth and the third the captain of truth.
We did not argue with the election results. We held our
first meeting that Sunday in the chapel. A crowd of
brothers came to hear what I had to say. They said it
was the best truth they ever heard. But they knew I
would not be there long. As soon as the truth meetings
are organized, they transfer the minister of truth to
another prison, so the brothers begged me to give up all
the truth I had in the time I had. I did as they
requested as I could see they were sincere and did not
debate with me about what I knew.
My days were spent teaching truth. I
studied also. Each dorm had a library near the entrance.
Soon I had the best books in prison in my locker. The
brothers said that any books on any subject could be
found in my locker. I searched the prison main library
also. All the books with good truth were marked
contraband, but I did not care, I took them to my
locker. But if found, I could get into trouble. I didn't
care about trouble, I wanted truth.
When the truth meetings got too
crowded, the warden called me in to tell me I was being
transferred to another prison. He was sorry to see me
go, but I had to go. I went back to my dorm and told the
brothers goodbye. They were sad but they knew the game.
Early that morning they came for me, chained my hands
and feet and put me on the prison bus. The bus ride was
just the beginning of a merry-go-round through the
prison system so I could understand the price of truth
and learn to shut up. Of course I would not shut up
until death.
Source:
Toward Radical Spirituality, Black Bird Press,
2007 (c) 2006 by Marvin X (El Muhajir)
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Marvin X has given permission to
Harvard University to publish his poem "For El Haji
Rasul Taifa" from Love and War: Poems by Marvin X
(1995). The poem will appear in The Encyclopedia of
Islam in America Volume II, Greenwood Press, edited
by Dr. Jocelyne Cesari of Harvard's Islam in the West
Program. Mr. X is co-editor of the forthcoming anthology
Muslim American
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posted 28 March 2008 |