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by Kevin “Rashid” Johnson
Every little girl
Should know her name,
From the bowels of
Repression and calamity she came.
Wrung poetic lyrics
Of love from raw pain,
From a system designed to break
She remained untamed.
Gave herself over wholly
To our freedom fight,
So the pigs tried to assassinate her
That night.
On the Jersey Turnpike
Alongside Zayed,
Who they actually slayed
And Sundiata fled.
Shot her point blank
Hands up don’t shoot,
Her will to live for the people
Embedded limbs to root.
A true comrade sista
She survived the impossible,
Brutal abuse neglect
Even by pigs in the hospital.
Where they beat her tortured her
Even threatened rape,
But she clung to life
Endured racist hate.
A continuation of a long train
Of fighting oppression,
From the earliest age
She learned the lessons.
Of resistance
Of persistence
Of never giving in,
Of daring to struggle
Of deserving to win.
Organized with the Panthers
Resisted chauvinist men,
Recognized our fight
Was for the future our children.
For the armed struggle
She was all the way down,
Joined the Black Liberation Army
Fought in the underground.
They put her in a men’s prison
Thought it would break her will,
But it made her stronger
Turned her mind to steel.
Where she molded it
Honed it made it razor sharp,
So her wit would sit
Level with her heart.
Every effort to stop her
Was doomed to fail,
Conceived a beautiful child
From inside a cell.
She embodied the thing
Slavers most fear,
The will to war
To protect our kids.
They thought a cell would stop her
But it wasn’t to be,
The love of the people
Set her free.
And surpassed borders
To the Cuba isle,
Where she found asylum
To live free in exile.
The meaning of her name
Fits her to the core
“She who struggles”
Assata Shakur
Send our Brother some love and light: Kevin “Rashid” Johnson, 1007485, Sussex 1, 24414 Musselwhite Dr., Waverly, VA 23891. See more of his work at www.rashidmod.com; IG @ribpp
