FROM MIND TO MASSES

18 Apr

FROM MIND TO MASSES

All poems are broken poems, unless they are a kiss or a raised fist, For Something-Someone, A cause, So the slogan better be worth something, so poems can be worth something, But don’t worry I hear you and I love what you say, I love those words from the wise, to

Decolonize you mind,

But mind you that your mind isn’t separated from your body, and the bodies of others, Not separated from the material world,

Materialism,

not materialistic-don’t-get-it-twisted you missed it, When your mind didn’t see, the shadow of the

laborer,

In the products you buy, and the products that you walk by, Even this poem, underwritten by the labor time, The labor time that produces, the racial time, the gender time, the sexuality time, In the products you buy and the lifestyles that you buy into, from the consciousness that you craft, to the objects around you, laced with the voice of laborers, and the shadow of the wealthy few,

Only capital

is transnational,

we’re their tools, My identity and yours, supposedly free to float?  The multiple identities in you and me: a Body-moving-and-grooving-dancing-disOriently-disrupting-discourse?  Multiple identities free and in flux?

In that logic

we’re still fucked,

because the masters master that, multiple identities is fine by them, they love their glass ceilings and their multiculturalism, The fluid-self-diaspora-moving body doesn’t make you free

know the conditions of possibility,

So restart the engine or start where you’re at, because that rationale, ain’t happening now, When the echoes from overseas oversee who we are,

Echoes of the (neo)colonized,

Landless

and urban poor

that know the severing of ties and the severing of tongues, that know balikbayan box coffins, And the U.S. in us from hamleting and scorched-earth-tactics-water-board-trajectory-scorched our eyes and skin through time,

And now we come across when coming across oceans like conveyor-belted products, Readymade, Racialized-gendered-fetishized, Readymade-wealth-making-wealth becomes an upward gravity, Money hand-over-fist to the capitalist, trickle-down fist becoming a-downward strike, And your identity

manufactured

like this, has meaning, as it basks in the light, of an exploitive, working, day, But don’t fret-don’t fret, learn the contradictions emanating from the Basss…e, Fret, that structures your speech-expression-and-consciousness, Learn the contradictions, learn the many dimensions of you, and stay on that decolonizing mind-grind, Or better yet,

just decolonize,

From the mind,

to

matter,

Not an individual practice be called and call forth the masses, the decolonizing-mind-grind-in-service-of-

the-massline,

Unravel the stoppage in your speech to express yourself, so that we express ourselves, our grievances, our list of demands, So that this broken poem finds finality, so that a kiss, becomes upward gravity, so that this fist, becomes an upward gravity, And press it against your flaws and your privileges, bourgeois mind-traps of internalized-heteropatriarchy-and-white-supremacy,

Take inventory,

take aim,

remold,

And upsurge the insurgent heart and assert the brave mentality,

Learn, practice, learn, practice, learn, practice,

Rectify,

Internalize to the mind,

and

Seize the time

Seize the time

Seize the time!

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