Poem: “What It Means To Be Revolutionary”

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Cam Aviles performing spoken word poetry at the March on Wall Street South, Charlotte, North Carolina, Sept. 2012

by Cam Aviles

So this poem to me is highly layered and reveals A LOT about me and A LOT
about “The Struggle.” Every time I spit to crowds I ask myself: Do they see
the images? Can they make out the images I am trying to convey? So this is
a visual that people can dissect, criticize and interpret in any way that
they want to. I have to dedicate this to EVERY SINGLE PHYSICAL AND
SPIRITUAL force that helped the development of the March On Wall Street
South and the events that stemmed from it. I also am dedicating
to this poem to everyone who has helped in the progress, shaping and support
of BRICKs (Building Revolutionaries In Concious Knowledge). Last but not least this is dedicated to my Workers World Party Durham comrades
and blood and chosen family. In a poet’s analysis ya’ll are mentioned in
this poem. peace.LOVE.Respect.

 “*What It Means To Be Revolutionary” *

Huey Newton said: “To be a revolutionary one must realize he is a doomed

I guess that’s why I walk on eggshells like I’m a moon man,

my feet bleed and my pores cry but,

I will never the peoples throats dry because I stand on the corner of the
block slinging revolutionary shots,

the type of liquor that flows down your throat and hit’s your voice box,

Causing Others to get Out, get Loud, and take back their blocks,

“they” tried to fit us inside a box where the only thing we owned was our
thoughts, underwear, and socks,

and see me: a rebel,

with my upside down flag and locks,

never fitting myself inside someone else’s box,

I guess that’s why when I was young I thought I had won when I stepped
outside of the boxes playing hopscotch,

you can call me Guy Fawkes but I’m far from anonymous,

you can call me Saddam-ing shit,

cause I’m going to go to jail for my war crimes,

because you know “they” are going put me in jail for my war crimes,

because you know “they” pin us as terrorist when we point out our enemies
during war times,

YES! these are war times, Art Pope attacking education, my people still
victims of oppression and September 2nd watch my home turn into a police
state for 1% recreation…

“What are you going to do NIGGA?” son, B,

they make us refer to house as cribs because that’s where they want us to
continue to be,

but me, I’m going to continue to tear these pages of history books where we
were marching to be free,

and hang them around my child’s crib,

so they can see what it truly means to be free,

to be rev-olu-tion-ary.

And one day I will tell them that Cam said:

“To be a revolutionary one must realize he is a grio,”

telling his struggle to the people,

I tell people my story of a black male growing up in America,

then I’ll tell them “All you’ll have to do is hope that one day they will
cherish you.”

Peace. LOVE. Respect.


3 thoughts on “Poem: “What It Means To Be Revolutionary”

  1. Pingback: “What it means to be a Revolutionary” | Setting the Record STR8

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