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Sometimes gliding during the day looking out of my window theater, a narrow slit at the back of a cell, three inches wide and three feet long, I saw what the red-tail hawk. I battled the demons blocking and kicking him and screaming. I cherished the buzzards, turkeys, and deer, wild dog coyote, the snakes, and mocked doves. I see spiders sparring in the window seals. Sometimes I see my past in the window's theater. Even after four decades in prison, not one day goes by without me hating myself for the life I'd took. Sometimes I strain my big toe kicking the walls and my dreams. Why, was I chosen to kill and not be killed? I get up from my bunk, broken with remorse and sorrow, and I wonder when is enough enough. Here where I must live every moment and breath, and every breath in every moment. Here in my window theater at night, I dream of ruby painted toes. Isn't it enough you keep me away from people I could surely help? From clean water, nutritious food. Isn't it enough you keep me away from family and frien

Yes, I know, who cares what food you feed the animals. To look at the prison menu and how the food is described, you'd think you're getting delicious and real food. Only what is served is nothing like the menu. It's like getting a big bag of chips with a pretty picture on the cover, but inside only air. The so-called cheese they serve does not even melt. The chicken, beef, fish, and turkey are all 99 percent soy, mixed with some lumpy, bubbly, stuff. This magical soy patty, that's said to be meatloaf, hamburger, steak, fish, chicken, and turkey, and also pancakes. Yes, the same hunk of cardboard they try to pass it off as pancakes. There's no turkey in a turkey, no chicken in the chicken, no fish in the fish and no beef in the beef. Every day, the food smells the same, like moldy slop, and not the fresh garbage you feed your hogs. Cabbage casserole was served today. I adore cabbage casserole and it would have been fine if there was just a sliver of cabbage offered in it. There was some dirty brown-like-sponge

When haters pull me up from the ground, breaking my roots, I'll get my nourishment from the air.  When haters strive to drive me into the dirt, they inspire me to flow. They inspire me to grow. They inspire me to dream. They inspire me to live. When haters strive to beat me down into the ground and [inaudible] the air smoked and soot, I rise above it like a God.  This is Spoon Jackson and if you like any of my poetry, please check my poetry book out called "Longer Ago," that can be- it can be accessed on amazon.com. And please, if you like my prose, and want more of it, check out my book that I wrote with Judith Tannenbaum called "By Heart" that can also be purchased off amazon.com. And if you want to hear some good stories in the form of storytelling, the old story core way of telling stories, we have a podcast here at Solano prison called Uncuff. And you could go to Uncuff listeners, or you could go to Uncuff at KALW 91.7 FM and listened to some podcasts. And we are putting a human face on prisoners, to sho

According to Bernie Sanders, 1% of Americans have more wealth than 92% of all other Americans. But even more egregious is a study published in 2016 by the Institute for Policy Studies and the Corporation for Economic Development entitled, quote, "The Ever-Growing Gap: Without Change, African-Americans and Latino Families Won't Match White Wealth For Centuries," end quote. According to that study, the 400 richest white Americans own more wealth than the entire Black population—plus one third of the Latino population combined. The study goes on to conclude that it will take Black families 228 years to amass the wealth white families have today. For me, being both a prisoner and a Black man, these statistics, even if remotely true, are extremely troubling, because as I've said in previous commentary, power respects power. And in a capitalist country power is rooted in economic strength. If you're poor or economically vulnerable, then you tend to be the victim of injustice. You tend to be the scapegoat of others.

John Singleton 1968-2019 (2:48) Mumia Abu-Jamal

I just got finished watching the TV show We The People. This particular episode moved me deeply because it dealt with the question of bail and redemption. Rodney was being held on a 100,000 dollar bond for selling cigarettes illegally. All he needed was someone to sign the bond for him and he'd be released, but nobody would risk it. When his aunt reconsider her decision not to sign, and she did, Rodney had taken his own life while locked up, having never known he was about to be released. On April 22nd, 2019, United States Supreme Court denied my petition for a writ of certiorari, thus declining to extend a constitutional right to rehabilitation for juvenile and youthful offenders who end up in prison, or in prison-like facilities, that make them worse. So, although the Supreme Court has ruled a state must afford juvenile offenders a meaningful opportunity to obtain relief, based on demonstrated maturity and rehabilitation, the state is not required to help those offenders to mature and to rehabilitate themse

I had a conversation the other day with a good lady named Dianna Goodwin. She's a senior advisor to New York state Senator Lewis R. Sepúlveda, who is also the chair for the State Senate Committee on Crime Victims, Crime, and Correction. I was discussing with Dianna the need for reform in the New York state prison system, which is probably one of the most reactionary and corrupt prison systems in the country. Dianna was of the position that the New York State Department of Corrections and Community Supervision will not recognize and approve prison chapters of my UFD organization, due to our past association with the New African Independence slash Liberation Movement, and their revolutionary New African Nationalist ideology. I told Dianna, regardless of DOCS, we'll do so or not. Something has to give because the New York state prison system isn't working. It is graduating young prisoners deeper into criminality and reinforcing the criminal behavior older prisoners. I know this because I'm witnessing it live and

Another Struggle (3:49) Mumia Abu-Jamal

MOVE Love (2:48) Mumia Abu-Jamal

On Book 2 (1:12) Mumia Abu-Jamal

Response To Krasner Dropping Appeal (00:58) Mumia Abu-Jamal

Standing Rock. Bitter powers, government run, you are not going to shake me. You are not going to break me. What you do won't make me. I stand with the birth of the land. I stand with the birth of the sky. I stand with the birth of the wind. I stand with the fresh air and waters at standing rock. Bitter powers, what you do, won't make me or shake me. My resolve, we'll evolve deeper and evolve stronger. Big, like the big dipper. Water hose me. Strip search me. You won't shame me. Your dirty hose and dirty nose, you won't shame me. I'll stand composed, jumping in the cold. Ice in my hair endlessly warm because I cared to be unshaken. Unbroken, by your strip searches and water trenches. I'll stand like the stars, wind, the mountains and rains. I'll stand like rushing streams. I will stand with you on rocks. I will stand with you in love. One planet, one people. I'll spend with you in realness in the struggle to protect mother earth. I'll stand with you, Standing Rock. (Sound of a cell door closing.) These commen

Homestead. Some prisoners have gophers, lizards, sparrows, praying mantises, black widows, and other spiders and snakes as pets. The very idea of incarcerating other beings in cells is absurd. Prisoners of all- all people must know how it feels to be caged and deprived of freedom. We went on lockdown at New Folsom, which meant confined to cells. And movement only to medical in handcuffs. First batch of Canadian geese arrived and homesteaded this mor. One pair of geese made it their territory, defended it from other geese and humans, that walked too close to the nest site. There was even one video of one officer who fell down in his haste to get away from the nest. It became a joke around the prison. I blended nature and bird images throughout my poetry because I wanted to show how we as human creatures, as fellow creatures, share space with other beings. Too long-time poet friends, Judith Tannenbaum and Kate [inaudible] send me a book, on all the North American birds, which was a blessing. Coming to prison, f

My name is Jamil Ibn Jaboo. And this one called, "I Notice." You may not think so, but I notice. I notice the smile when you giggle. And your presence when you pose. And I notice the vibe in your eyes you try sometimes to hide behind makeup and hairdos. I swear you can't pay me to believe you're not a beauty without it. Around a bush, I don't know how to be, so straight forward I'll be. I notice what you notice now. I notice you, good and bad. But it's you and it's beautiful. So, embrace it, because you must love it first. And after that, the world will. Thank you, my name is Jamil Ibn Jaboo and this is- this is called "I Notice." 

Hi, my name is Jamil, and the title is called "A Woman." A woman is respected on how she present herself. Not so much so on what she do or don't have on, but her mind stay, her awareness, her presence, and her drive to live according to what she believes in. A woman respect is stationed upon the position of her paradigm, and on the status of her thought pattern when she be here.If her intentions and her thinking is failed, her actions will follow. [inaudible] thought is the cause of it all. Action comes to habits, and habits crystallize into character. So once again, she is respected on how she present herself. And it will be measured in this world, by the respect she's given. So, my dear lady, please establish yourself mentally, wherever you land. And your place will last forever in Allah. And if that man don't notice or like your nails, your hair, your makeup, or your smile, it won't even matter, because your mind and spirit will be recognized and respected. My name is Jamil Ibn Jaboo, and this is a "Letter

Wars Against Assange (2:37) Mumia Abu-Jamal

Heal. Like a heart that keeps giving, I must keep believing in the power of healing. Sometimes I grind down so hard on my teeth I crack them during the night. I must wear a tooth guard at night. Sometimes a- a long and deep cry alone or with a loved one will open your eyes, your heart, to the power of healing. Like a heart that keeps giving, I must keep believing in the power of healing. Sometimes just a smile, a hug, a kiss or a hello will heal the soul. Sometimes a book, letter, a song, poem or dream, or loss of a loved one, will open your eyes, your heart. Sometimes a long silence, solitude. A stream, a tree, a meadow, a long howl or a swallow song will open your eyes, your heart to the power of healing. I don't know what or who I have not forgiven, and I know there's something that needs healing like a heart that keeps giving. I must keep believing. I must keep believing in the power of healing. (Sound of a cell door closing.) These commentaries are recorded by Noelle Hanrahan of Prison Radio. 

Okay this is called a, "One Foot In Darkness." Over the years I have pondered how intoxicating would have been to come across some liquid or pills that would do the deed in an instant. And in harmony with my nature, for it has seemed like all of my life the Gods have never blessed me or shed light on my path. And have instead taken me from one prison to another. For what is an existence opposite, when you're only perceived as, or allowed to be in one spear. Evil with no good. Yet even in darkness, there is light. I think evil and good exist inside all of us. One foot in darkness, one foot in light. Like Socrates, I was sentenced to death, not at the height of my wisdom and awareness, but at the age of 20. I was tried for the death penalty 42 years ago, and given the other death penalty, of life without parole. A slower death, more hideous because I do suffer death. Sometimes daily. And it's a living death. To keep my opposites alive, I decided to live my life as a long journey of death inspired by Socrates. O

"The Secret Superfund Site." Schuylkill County. Could it be the coal reservoirs, the Cogen plants, or the fly ash? A by-product that contains toxic carcinogens, including arsenic, lead, cadmium, chromium, and selenium, which becomes a drift, carried by the unpredictable winds into rivers, streams, reservoirs, ground wells, etcetera. Coal wastewater is stored in underground disposal wells that leak and contaminates groundwater aquifers. Abandoned mines are also sources of AMD. Acid Mine Drainage occurs when [inaudible] materials, from mining, reacts with water and oxygen. Acid Mine Drainage makes water more acidic, helping heavy metals like lead, mercury, and arsenic are discharged and dissolved into rivers, streams, etcetera. About 15 years ago, most of us were unaware about a doctor by the name of Dr. Greco, who was secretly responsible for conducting a government clinical study randomly on unsuspecting citizens throughout Schuylkill County, Pennsylvania. They were the subject to go onto certain medical proc

"A History of UFD." When I first founded UFD on July 29, 2008, it was initially meant to serve as a positive alternative to gang. I got tired of seeing young prisoners get caught up in gangs. I believe if they were offered a positive alternative, they would choose that alternative. I was right, but soon learned that this wasn't what DOCS wanted. So, they would discipline me for my organizational efforts for not first seeking authorization. When I finally sought authorization to form a prison chapter UFD, DOCS denied my request on specious grounds. There are those who believe I should change UFD's name or abandon my efforts to get DOCS to recognize and approve prison chapters of UFD, but instead create a new program. This is because of UFD's past affiliation with the New African Independence Movement and the New African Liberation Movement and their ideology. After careful consideration, I decided to reject this approach, because its only purpose is to placate the bias and reactionary officials who control DOC