This video is a spoken poem on the life and death of Trayvon Martin, in a historical context.
Poem text is below.
What divine irony indeed, hoods are still causing pain.
Retributions and chaos amongst our nation.
Up from slavery, it has been the hood that has caused some of our greatest pains and agonies.
Post reconstruction. Post-reconstruction it was the sons of the South
and, I might add my brethren, also some of us from the North,
who were equally vitriolic when it came to the treatment of the emancipated ones,
of which I am a proud descendant.
Men of the North and the South both outfitted themselves in the hoods of the day
and took to the torches –
took their torches to the streets and roasted the most strange kind of fruits,
while suited in their most strange garments –
pure white camellia-like hoods, the hoods of the South.
Post-King came the clamoring, sweltering havens of rest
in which the poor, marginalized, and disenfranchised of this land
were hoarded, compacted, into the vessels of our middle passage to this new hood.
Afflicted it was, with all of its vices and ills –
the dregs of drugs,
prostitution, death, extortion, graft, greed, decadence and corruption
that did not become that intoxicatingly sweet nectar of our familiar.
And now comes Trayvon –
the culmination, the essence, of having escaped the travesties of both of these hoods
but meeting that same end that so many victims of both the prior hoods met.
Oh what seemingly poignant, yet twisted irony.
Oh ye people of the book: Return, reclaim, renew, revive and restore.
Recall on our God. God is still waiting, and he is still able.
When we who are called by his name simply redeem and return to our divinely appointed missions,
then and only then will our appointed destinies be realized.
Post and video by cheik we’ sizwe’ alkebu – lan (a.k.a.) h.b. harris of Wilson, North Carolina, a father, educator, coach, freedom fighter for universal justice, c.o.g.