Prison Radio Audio Feed

So, the question was asked in my last commentary: why don't we see liberals clamoring for comprehensive prison reform? That may not be entirely a fair question. I guess what I'm trying to say is that liberalism, overall, is- is in progressive politics is a weakness, because many liberals, at least in my experience, seem to be the soft, self-righteous do gooders, who fail to fully consider what it takes to make our world a better place. It's hard for me to explain exactly what I mean because I have a natural strategic sense of politics. What I know is that Donald Trump got elected by less than half of those who voted, and only about half of the country voted at all. So, basically only 25% of the American population voted for this guy. But the majority of the country didn't approve of him. How did this happen? My answer: liberalism. Liberalism shuns organization and discipline. The very root of the word is liberal, which is defined as loose. It comes from a Greek word that means "free." The idea of liberalism i

An Evening of Justice and Freedom for Mumia 4-6-19 (1hr:18min:39secs)

This one is, uh, for Mary Oliver. I didn't know she had passed on. Callalily. Walking tonight, watching the plants, sharing moments in space with them. I looked inside a Callalily and saw a fat, yellow striped, black bumblebee curled around the heart of the flower. She is sleeping. I didn't know they slept in flowers. I didn't think they slept at all. I wanted to awaken her. She is a harvest moon inside a callalily. I wanted to awaken her. But I didn't. It wouldn't be right. Besides, as she is, as she sleeps in peace with the sky as her blanket, and cotton pedals as her pillow, as she sleeps undisturbed, we are one. (Sound of a cell door closing.) These commentaries are recorded by Noelle Hanrahan of Prison Radio. 

By the Pond For William Stanford. Frogs in the night talk. Gossiping long. Mingling, their voices like speckles of light. Long have they slept, waiting for heavy rains. The sky seeps into their mouths. Frogs have waited all their lives for this night, cold, damp and wet. They won't shut up. They won't sleep again. They hide during the day pretending to be children. Pretending to be dirt. Pretending to be leaves. Pretending to be invisible. Look, but you won't find them, for their groans are bigger than they are. Bigger than we are. (Sound of a cell door closing.) These commentaries are recorded by Noelle Hanrahan of Prison Radio. 

Sag. How do I hold my temper, keeping my grace, and not become bitter, stuck in this infamous place? I remember even at seven, I dreamed of a better place, in a better race.  Stuck in this infamous place without a trace, only the history of misery and indentured slavery. I pledge no allegiance to this flag, and free, I let my pants sag.  I'm a little Black boy sold. Taken from his mother's bosom and sold. While the old ones still linked to Africa kill the white ones with their heads down and eyes closed.  Stuck in this infamous place without a trace, only a history of misery and indentured slavery. I pledge no allegiance to this flag, and free, I let my pants sag. I am John Lennon who spoke of one race in the one place. I am mother Teresa, who came for death row, unafraid of any. I am Martin Luther King Jr. shot down on the balcony in the midst of his dream. I am Malcolm X betrayed by the beastly and burnt, surreptitiously. Stuck in this infamous place without a trace, with only a history of misery and indent

Misdirections. People wonder why He tends to the plants like He does. Touching them. Them touching him. People wonder why He sits looking at the sky, tending to the birds. The bird sang to Him and He to them. Touching spirits; sharing freedom. People wonder why He spends so much time-sharing affection with plants and birds. Because it's against the law for a man in the department of misdirections to be human. To touch and sing with others. Here it's against the law to be a man. Here it's against the law to be human. Here it's against the law for men to like women. To touch, hug and kiss a woman, even on visits. Here it's against the law to be a man and like women. Don't wonder why. Look through the bars in your eyes that blinds you from seeing a man as a man. Look to the bars in your eyes that blinds you from seeing men in prison are human. Look to the bars in your eyes, you superhuman perfect people looking down your loan, sunburned noses. No, don't wonder why. But look to the bars in your eyes that imprison

Judith Ritter, Esq.'s speech (16:51) at Mumia Freedom Event 4-6-19

Pam Africa's Speech (18:22) at Mumia Freedom Rally 4-6-19

Mumia''s speech (5:17) to Freedom Rally Berkeley 4-6-19

Angela Davis Speaks (16:05) at Freedom for Mumia Event 4-6-19

Steven Bingham (2:30) Speech at Mumia Freedom Rally 4-6-19

Alice Walker Speaks (13:43) at Freedom for Mumia Rally 4-6-19

Straight Out Scribes (8:06) An Evening for Justice and Freedom

"Struggle To Be." I don't want to give loneliness freelance to do its thing, but ultimately, sometimes it happens anyway. So long it has been since my body has been where it wanted to go. I read, write, and I long for a hug, a long walk down the beach, a hike up a mountain path, and to plant and watch a garden prosper in spring. I long to go to Sweden where I know people care for me. I ponder and dream and wonder. I struggle to be. Yesterday, today, tomorrow, not unlike what came before. The days seem to run into each other like merging clouds. And only yesterday, a moment ago, it seems like I was 19. There was a place inside me back then, an unknown area, I went to when I started this time in prison decades ago. That place inside I did not know existed or know now how I naturally went there each time some new prison horror, rule, or behavior required me to go to this spot. Like everyone, everywhere in the world, upon awakening each morning I struggle to be who I am. I try to avoid the omnipresent thoughts of

"What Does it Say if Dogs Get Better Treatment than Inmates?" The dogs marched under the barb wired razor and electric fencing across the prison yard into the cell block five. Paws for Life, a program of [inaudible] rescue in the State Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation had arrived at California State Prison, Lancaster to train inmates to care for once condemned hounds. I'd known the dogs were coming, as I helped clean out the 24 pens on the back of the cell block—each pen two to three times the size of my cell. We polished the bars, and the door handles of the pens, and revitalized the dead grass in front of the buildings. By the time the dogs arrived, the cell block—which had been used as the hole—had freshly scrubbed floors and freshly painted walls and doors. Although I helped transform the space and knew that the dogs had been days away from being euthanized when they were rescued and sent to prison, I'd been a bit recalcitrant. Not wanting to see them locked up in cages. Still, waking up to th

Music Presentation, Jail Guitar Doors, Wayne Kramer. What is music? Music is the hawk's call. Music is the silence [inaudible]. Music is the wave of motion at night. Music is the bellows of a wolf, the cry of a lion longing for a mate. Music is the moment between light and thunder. Music is the sad, hopeful, healing, and transformative. Music is beauty and beauty is love. Music must be cultivated at every level in schools because it does detour some youth from the pipeline to prison. Music connects us to the universe. Goddess, God's, muses, or whatever force that moves you. Music is the post of Mother Earth and a blessing. The act of creating art must set you free and Jail Guitar Doors music program, does just that. We create and flow in the moment. We write down and craft the lyrics and music the first hour and a half. We perform the work at the end of the second hour. Music opens a moment and hugs the heart. I learned through experience that all of the arts are connected, and to be authentic, and real, art

America's Prison System (3:48) Omar Askia Ali

"A Critique of Liberalism in Progressive Politics." The 2016 presidential election and resulting political upheaval reflects the weakness in progressive politics in this country. In my humble opinion, that weakness is liberalism. In progressive politics there exists two strains: liberalism and radicalism. It seems to me that liberals have a history of selling out progressive politics—or just barely doing enough to advance the cause of social and racial justice. Take for example the construction period after slavery. The liberal Republicans in the North supported policies that empowered Black people. This led to the unprecedent political and economic advancement of Black people in former Confederate states. But then came the presidential election of 1876. Liberal Republicans compromised with white Southerners who resented the federal protections that allowed Southern Blacks to thrive. In order for Ruther B. Hayes' election to go unchallenged, liberal Republicans promised to remove those federal protections and

Moving Toward Justice (5:16) Mumia Abu-Jamal

Trump, Mad at the World (2:00) Mumia Abu-Jamal