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Raymond Nat Turner's blog

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    (OSCAR) Old Southern Californian Aryan Racketeers

    by Raymond Nat Turner

    “Hooray for Hollywood”

    Never meant Black folk no good…

    My Wise Country Cousin on Legacies of the Two-Lie Crew…

    by BAR poet-in-residence Raymond Nat Turner

    The DJ Commanduh and the Amazing AG

    “Gib us ‘bout as much just-us as de ropes, an’ de trees…”

    Super Bowl (Business, not personal…)

    by BAR poet-in-residence Raymond Nat Turner

    Then comes this "Beast Mode,” this

    Marshawn Lynch cat, unpredictable

    Like Jazz, SILENCE, dead air stare,

    “I’m here so I won’t get fined,” 29

    Times, like a Coltrane lick, looped…

    “Shout out to all my real Africans

    Out there,”

    I am Charlie…

    by BAR poet-in-residence Raymond Nat Turner

    Slaughtering Vietnamese,
    Torturing Tunisians, murdering
    Moroccans and Algerians? Yeah,
    We know where West African bodies
    Are buried

    Herr come Count Ghouliani

    by BAR poet-in-residence Raymond Nat Turner

    “Step right up,
    Get your 9-11 shirts and caps
    9-11 speeches, photos, maps
    Controlled demolition DVDs
    Why, I even sell 9-11 PhDs

    Turn, turn, turn (For Pete)

    by BAR poet-in-residence Raymond Nat Turner

    Class-‘wartime’ crime-fighters
    Would arrest serial killer—
    Killing every Tuesday—
    Drone Ranger, the next
    Time he rides his mule
    Into NYC,
    Kill list stuffed in his boot

    Cuba sí, Jersey NO!

    by Raymond Nat Turner

    “When a thief kisses you, count your teeth.”

    Bloody hands of state

    by BAR poet-in-residence Raymond Nat Turner

    Young and strong, marching
    All night long on search and
    Destroy missions, uprooting,
    Overturning, anything decayed 

    December Surprise (Class struggle trumps Trail of Tricks)

    by BAR poet-in-residence Raymond Nat Turner

    With young, Black America’s sound
    New meaning to ‘boots on the ground!’
    Like a ‘surge,’ chum-rushing the stage
    Declaring: The Ferguson Age!

    Black lives matter…(Too much to pimp on the Trail of Tricks)

    by BAR poet-in-residence Raymond Nat Turner

    So, why’s the War House
    Hosting you, our brilliant Black,
    Brown, Tan babies?
    Why’s the War House serenading
    You with cognitive dissonant
    Doo-Wop ‘Mistrust,’ like
    A torch song of unrequited love?

    …Come out the shadows and get Reich with some brew…

    by Raymond Nat Turner

    Reject cries for organization
    Dial down militant agitation
    Re-calibrate comments and remarks
    Empire’s prairie, your words are sparks…

    When the “verdict” drops

    by Raymond Nat Turner

    Media white-out—
    …Wilson’s shots loudest heard?

    Fo’ an ignut-ass Facebook ‘friend’

    by Raymond Nat Turner

    The Drone Ranger, Deporter-in-
    Chief is a vocalist—ventriloquists
    Hands up his ass, making his
    Mouth move, a mechanical man
    Sitting on knees war profiteers
    Lap-dancing Lockheed-Martin

    Midterm…Mo’ Power to the People!

    by BAR Poet-in-Residence Raymond Nat Turner

    “Universal suffrage is thus the gauge of the maturity of the working class.
    It cannot and never will be anything more in the modern state; but that is enough."
    —Marx or Engels?

    Corporate media doesn't tell you these things, lots more happened last week than Republican vs Democrats. Big Oil lost referenda in Denton TX, and parts of Ohio where residents banned fracking, in Richmond CA where Chevron sought to hijack local government, and other places besides.

    Black Is Back On Track

    by Raymond Nat Turner

    Taking up some slack
    Resisting an attack
    Off the mule’s back
    Out the cul-de-sac
    Trane back on track—

    Estranged Careerists of the Corporate Black Cash-hounds (CBC)

    by BAR poet in residence Raymond Nat Turner

    Once upon a time the CBC called itself the "conscience of the congress". That, observers our poet in residence, was a long time ago indeed. CBC stands for something quite different these days.

    University of Revolution

    by BAR Poet-in-Residence Raymond Nat Turner

    Mass rallies, strikes, pickets, voter registration, armed
    Self-defense; from flash-mobbing miserly Wal-Marts,
    To slipping “Which Side Are You On?” in on the St Louis
    Symphony, to unfurling anti-racist banners on Monday Night
    Football, National TV, revealing inconvenient truths about cold-
    Blooded murder…

    Homage to the Freedom-Fighting Freeman Bros

    by BAR Poet-in-Residence Raymond Nat Turner

    The Freedom-fighting Freeman Bros are Heroes, now, just as they were back then,
    Stellar, like the Nicholas Bros to tap dancing
    The Alou, Alomar and knuckle-balling
    Niekro and 3rd base Boyer Bros to baseball
    Like the Heath, Marsalis and Jones Bros to Jazz

    “It is not wrong to go back for that which you have forgotten”—Ashanti Proverb

    Porcine Doctrine

    by Raymond Nat Turner


    Off bulls eyes on ‘suspects’ backs
    ’10 rings’ in ‘suspects’ chests
    Off bulls eyes on ‘suspects’ backs
    ’10 rings’ in ‘suspects’ chests

    My Wise Country Cousin on Hate Speech

    My Wise Country Cousin on Hate Speech:

    by BAR poet in residence Raymond Nat Turner

    The Commander-in-Chief’s *Annual NASA
    Umph, umph, umph, de hate speech de Commanduh preach
    Soun’ lak, feel lak finguh nails on a chalkbowd, dat screech
    ‘Bout toxic as anything Dr Gobbuls an’ ol’ Striker teach—
    Lak WHITE fosforus providin’ cover, so de 1% can leech
    Puttin’ Dr Martha Lutha Kang’s dream waaay outta reach
    Commnaduh gibbin’ his Annyule Nigga Ain’t Shit Speech!

    My Wise Country Cousin on the Congressional Black Caucus

    by BAR Poet-in-Residence Raymond Nat Turner

    Dem Negroz par-tay livin’ hi on de hog—
    We’s han to mouf, shot down lak a dog!

    Red Salute to Cousin, Comrade Wayne Pharr

    by BAR Poet-in-Residence Raymond Nat Turner

    Living on 81st and 83rd Streets between Avalon and
    Central we learned the Devil wore dark blue, not red,
    Delivered hell up South, out South in black and white

    My Wise Country Cousin on Ferguson

    by BAR Poet-in-Residence Raymond Nat Turner

    Ahm prowd ob Fightin’ Furgasun’s po, wurkin peeples, heroic youf Dey de wonz we can count on wen we’s fightin fo’ Justus, an’ Troof—

    Justice Is Served

    by Raymond Nat Turner, BAR Poet-in-Residence

    Justice is served
    A la Carte, chokehold-style, or
    Fifty bullets, forty-one, or one
    Or two well placed headshots
    From killing-machine chefs

    Hail the Heroic Mid-west Bank: Ferguson

    by Raymond Nat Turner

    Working people of Ferguson are still standing tall against
    Judas Quisling Steppin’ Fetchit house Negroz telling them to
    “Get off the streets,” “Go home, “ “Go back to sleep, watching
    Oprah, Ellen, reruns of ‘Roots’”

    Sugar Hill Play-date v. Oz-low Piece Plan

    by BAR poet-in-residence Raymond Nat Turner

    Oz-Low Piece Process allows bombing hospitals, patients in 

    Surgery, just as it allows bombing schools, shelters,

    Mosques, electric and water treatment plants and homes!

    My Wise Country Cousin on The State Machine’s Machinegun-Totin’ Cops… 

    by BAR poet-in-residence Raymond Nat Turner
    Dey got Glocks, pumps, tasirs, peppurspray, vess—
    White magik fo’ conjurin’ cases ob “resisin’ aress!”

    Water, WMD – In Detroit…

    by Raymond Nat Turner

    Rich terrorists taking vital chemicals away 

    For these parasites their profits hold sway

    18 Days: Still shaking the world… 

    by Raymond Nat Turner

    You’re the ones we’ve been waiting for—
    Fiery deeds thawing souls on ice, awakening wise 
    Old revolutionaries, political prisoners, smooth-
    Skinned activists, looking, listening, cheering and
    Studying solidarity

    Ready for the Wicked Witch of the West?

    by Raymond Nat Turner

    She flies in 2016 with a fleet of “monkeys spring from the mule.”

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