For more on June Jordan: A Poet for the People go to: http://www.rwor.org/A/V24/1151-1160/1160/Jordan.htmTwo Poems by June Jordan Revolutionary Worker #1160, July 28, 2002, http://www.rwor.org
Two poems by June Jordan:Moving Towards Home"Where is Abu Fadi," she wailed. "Who will bring me my loved one?" New York Times , 9/20/82(after the 1982 Phalangist/Israeli Massacre of Refugees in Beirut) I do not wish to speak about the bulldozer and the red dirt not quite covering all of the arms and legs Nor do I wish to speak about the nightlong screams that reached the observation posts where soldiers lounged about Nor do I wish to speak about the woman who shoved her baby into the stranger's hands before she was led away Nor do I wish to speak about the father whose sons were shot through the head while they slit his own throat beforethe eyes of his wife Nor do I wish to speak about the army that lit continuous flares into the darkness so that others could see the backs of their victims lined against the wall Nor do I wish to speak about the piled up bodies and the stench that will not float Nor do I wish to speak about the nurse again and again raped before they murdered her on the hospital floor Nor do I wish to speak about the rattling bullets that did not halt on that keening trajectory Nor do I wish to speak about the pounding on the doors and the breaking of windows and the hauling of families into the world of the dead I do not wish to speak about the bulldozer and the red dirt not quite covering all of the arms and legs because I do not wish to speak about unspeakable events that must follow from those who dare "to purify" a people those who dare "to exterminate" a people those who dare to describe human beings as "beasts with two legs" those who dare "to mop up" "to tighten the noose" "to step up the military pressure" "to ring around" civilian streets with tanks those who dare to close the universities to abolish the press to kill the elected representatives of the people who refuse to be purified those are the ones from whom we must redeem the words of our beginning because I need to speak about home I need to speak about living room where the land is not bullied and beaten into a tombstone I need to speak about living room where the talk will take place in my language I need to speak about living room where my children will grow without horror I need to speak about living room where the men of my family between the ages of six and sixty-five are not marched into a roundup that leads to the grave I need to talk about living room where I can sit without grief without wailing aloud for my loved ones where I must not ask where is Abu Fadi because he will be there beside me I need to talk about living room because I need to talk about home I was born a Black woman and now I am become a Palestinian against the relentless laughter of evil there is less and less living room and where are my loved ones? It is time to make our way home. Poem about Police Violence Tell me something what you think would happen if everytime they kill a black boy then we kill a cop everytime they kill a black man then we kill a cop you think the accident rate would lower subsequently? sometimes the feeling like amaze me baby comes back to my mouth and I am quiet like Olympian pools from the running mountainous snows under the sun sometimes thinking about the 12th House of the Cosmos or the way your ear ensnares the tip of my tongue or signs that I have never seen like DANGER WOMEN WORKING I lose consciousness of ugly bestial rapid and repetitive affront as when they tell me 18 cops in order to subdue one man 18 strangled him to death in the ensuing scuffle (don't you idolize the diction of the powerful: subdue and scuffle my oh my) and that the murder that the killing of Arthur Miller on a Brooklyn street was just a "justifiable accident" again (Again) People been having accidents all over the globe so long like that I reckon that the only suitable insurance is a gun I'm saying war is not to understand or rerun war is to be fought and won sometimes the feeling like amaze me baby blots it out/the bestial but not too often tell me something what you think would happen if everytime they kill a black boy then we kill a cop everytime they kill a black man then we kill a cop you think the accident rate would lower subsequently
