Inspired by all of you who have sacrificed so much para una comunidad con dignidad

Desert blooms, multiple scents, abundant in the air amidst our conversations, new talk about SB 1070 and 2281 have come early this spring season- death season.

Ocotillos, saguaros, chollas, are starting to rise as [...]]]> “A Love Letter to Tucson”
By Mixelle Rascon

Inspired by all of you who have sacrificed so much para una comunidad con dignidad

Desert blooms,
multiple scents,
abundant in the air amidst our conversations,
new talk about SB 1070 and 2281 have come early this spring season-
death season.

Ocotillos, saguaros, chollas, are starting to rise as high as temperatures and soon,
small shriveled prayers will evaporate into hopelessness along our tribal lands.
The bodies have already started to come in,
86 so far.

La migra,
vigilant like birds of prey along cliff dwellings,
painting America’s White picket fence some thousand miles long with militarization,
enclosing the American Dream of exclusivity,
of denigration.

Like coyotes,
following their pray,
they make their way to South Tucson.
Picturesque murals of Las Adelitas, Cesar Chavez, and Emiliano Zapata,
are now images of sadness, of rape,
chipping away as ICE agents swarms like ants,
hunting for something sweet.

“Illegal”
the word agitates their creed,
candles lit with signs held high,
and as quick as steam rises from the pavement,
Chicanos have already taken to the streets.
Do I look illegal to you?

Marchas,
chants,
tears of separation,
lights and sirens.

¿No tengo papeles y que?
Hand cuffs carved in my wrist,
still smelling like the sweat of the Capitol 9.
The sting of internment camps, of deportations forms, of thirst,
is ever-present in his voice.

As we drive beside the purple mountains,
a breeze of resistance comes to sooth me,
a desert whisper,
and as quick as it is aggressive and defiant she tells me,
Arizona will be yours again!

Published May 2, 2010 8:57 PM

Taken from a March 31 audio column. Go to www.prisonradio.org to hear more columns and to www.millions4mumia.org to get updates on Abu-Jamal’s case.

As May approaches, the day celebrated for over a century as an emblem of workers’ power, May Day seems to [...]]]> From Mumia abu-Jamal on death row

Published May 2, 2010 8:57 PM

Taken from a March 31 audio column. Go to www.prisonradio.org to hear more columns and to www.millions4mumia.org to get updates on Abu-Jamal’s case.

As May approaches, the day celebrated for over a century as an emblem of workers’ power, May Day seems to have become a symbol of its fall.

That’s because, as the economic system has gone through shocks, aftershocks and tremors, social and communal wealth has been funneled to banking and corporate interests — bailouts for billionaires, while workers have faced, at best, a plague of cutbacks; at worst, mass layoffs and firings as businesses reorganize by being even more antagonistic to labor.

Marx and Engels rightly determined that “the modern state is but the executive committee of the bourgeoisie.” Why else would the world’s economic powers pour hundreds of billions into corporate coffers — virtually no questions asked — while dropping a pittance, like coins in the cup, to workers and their families?

May Day began in America in the midst of the Haymarket Rebellion of the 1800s in struggle for the 40-hour work week and an end to child labor.

May Day still represents workers’ struggle in America, in Europe, in Africa and Asia, against state and corporate repression and greed.

In a nutshell, capitalism is in severe crisis and the phony wars and very real rise of cronyism are but mirrors of that crisis.

If workers are to use their billions to change the world, they must join together across false barriers to build a new and better world where life and liberty are more precious than profit.

It’s not only possible — it’s necessary.