Revisit August 23, 2016 The Black Blogger
Last night I had a revelation during my dream stage. It included Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young’s original version of the song “OHIO”. This song which was also redone a few years later by the Isley Brothers and included that awesome guitar solo by Ernie Isley. Ohio, the song spotlighted the bodies those 4 students killed by the government stormtroopers, oh, the National Guard on the campus of Kent State University, on May 4, 1970.
This was a time when many white America's youths were consumed with the massive resistance to the war in Southeast Asia. In addition, America's black youth were civilly engaged in massive disturbances involving our people's fight for equality for blacks in this nation.
Well, it’s August 23, 2016. How little has changed in America. A nation is still consumed with the bigotry, hatred, racism, prejudice, and war. America still consumed with the overwhelming levels of injustice in many of our black communities throughout this nation. However, what came to me last night in that dream was a reflection of the voices of our many ancestors. There was a defiant call or demand from our ancestors that we, black people, stop this mindless cycle of self-hate that has overtaken us.
Those voices emphatically pointed out that we seem to kill each other with such ease, and we don't seem work as hard trying please, or even tease any real efforts that may appease, and rarely do we now drop down to our knees. Many in our communities have allowed themselves to be completely enveloped in sleaze. These disastrous elements of self-hate make killing one another simply a damn breeze.
The song OHIO talked of an incident, a single incident where four innocent bodies dropped and for them, life stopped. Well, guess, what OHIO seemingly happens every day in the black community and the killings aren’t initiated by any National Guards. Some of those bodies are dropped by out of control agents in law enforcement. However, in most cases, the killings are interactions between brothers and sisters of that community. They are of same damn races, with the same damn hue on their faces.
I remember a movie growing watching as a kid “Knock On Any Door” with Humphrey Bogart and Sal Mineo. The movie detailed the series of incidents that followed this man who eventually ended up in the electric chair at the end of the movie. I am not pulling anything from that movie for this creation other than the title. I changed it slightly to fit today’s circumstances.
Travel To Any Inner City Knock On Any Funeral Director’s Door, Mounting Bodies Such An Eyesore
6 dead in West Philly did they even get to taste the lilies
Another 10 dropped in Chicago, another mother lost a son
2 more dropped in Memphis had to be because of a damn gun
Why did 5 more go down in Oaktown where is the crying sound
You see that 3 died in B’more someone had to settle a score
Why even in Brooklyn, it looks like a full-scale war
Funeral directors have such a chore
Mounting bodies a damn eyesore
Why so many black bodies in this black town
Where is self-love to be found
With all these bodies laying on the ground
Don’t pull the trigger he’s not what you figured
Don’t pull the trigger his and your dreams must be bigger
Don’t pull the trigger if he’s dead, figure, where again is the gravedigger
Don’t pull the trigger, if you do you are worst than any damn nigger
Don’t pull the trigger let’s start to live our lives with renewed vigor
Don’t pull the trigger, come on man, go out and find a gold digger
Don’t pull the trigger brother, don’t pull that damn trigger
Our ancestor's demand, no they command, no they have banned
Murdering our own on our black land
They want to us, we must find another plan and give each other a hand
Remake and redo our brand
So Brother man, don’t pull that damn trigger
So as I end my creation today I again say that what has confounded me in this life. Is how we, a people, born of such proud ancestors who withstood and survived the horrors of slavery, horrors of Jim and Jane Crow, overt bigotry and hatred simply because of color have gotten caught in this cycle of self-hate?
How can a people who triumphed over those obstacles even consider killing each other? Why do these high numbers of self-reflected hate seemingly rise every day of the week in our cities and hamlets across this nation?
How truly do our ancestors rest? Ancestors, like Attucks, Vesey, Turner, Truth, Tubman, Douglas, Bethune, Carver, Washington, DuBois, Marshall, Drew, Mitchell, Elijah, Malcolm, Martin, Bonds and on and on. Ancestors who fought for us wanted a life renewed for us, and, never, ever wanted us to slew us. They wanted us to love each other, you know each other as his or her brother. Carmichael called for Black Power never wanted that power to be guns pointed at us by us against us.
Do we hate, or have we been so ingrained to hate the outer reflective hue of our skin? Are we so ignorant of the inner strength that was passed on by our ancestors? What makes it easy pull that trigger? You see that black man you just killed my brother is nobody’s damn nigger! We need to seek love and devotion and stop this damn self-hating emotion. We need to bathe our minds in some feel-good mental lotion, or better yet drink some of our ancestor's historical inner strength potion.
If the bigoted system was the only enemy of our progress then that wouldn’t that stop us from loving us. You see I’m mentally torn because in this beautiful black body is where I was born. So us murdering us is something I particularly don't want to mourn.
Stop it now, stop it today, yes today, it is the day to step away and if need be before considering pulling that trigger why not drop to your knees and pray. Don’t make another dead black body fall today. Us killing us as if we were all our own deadly prey? Black Power is us not killing us every single day.