Black Panthers

i was prisoner in a cell

with a job sweeping up the cement floor

i felt warm inside the joint

listening to stories of a new cold war

suffering inside my locked door

but i took my escape from white-washed walls

while running at my mouth

up and down the injustice halls

into another heated Oakland night 

looking for a little daylight

across the narrow bridge

hearing stories of police oppression and the bloody Pine Ridge

and there were Black Panthers feeding kids

in the early morning hours before school

teaching each and every one the precious golden rule

while they sat with spoons and forks and a dull knife

learning to avoid a world of drug-dealing and  low nightlife

where pigs in patrol cars pull up to the broken curb

smashing any black sign that says "Do not disturb!"

but kids kept reading their books

while giving me curious childhood looks

as if to ask who i might be and what was my ultimate goal

but i was running flat-out out on my fake parole,

both fists held high and tight in my striped uniform.

i mounted the hard-to-climb ladder and stood on my own platform

calling for justice and civic reform

but no one heard

as i gathered each angry word

before ominously, Mister J Edgar Hoover and his criminal FBI

gagged me by the mouth and poked my one good eye!

i was so aggrieved, i began to cry,

and then a mighty pain;

it seemed there was nothing more to gain

and i might have become blind

but it seemed normal being left behind

when the party was about to begin:

no one stood a fair chance to win.

there was barely an open seat to watch the beginning of the freedom show

when i saw an angry bird flying past who said his name was Jim Crow;

i watched him grab a hanging rope,

and tie a clever knot.

his following gang  

hiding in my blindspot

as the circumstances kept changing, and the children took their tests:

i heard they all got passing grades 

but were treated like uninvited guests

when the FBI led me to a party wall;

where i entertained myself with a game of American dodge ball,

dreaming of a fertile field, praying for a gentle rain,

picking at my Attica lock 

trying to remove my invisible slave chain.