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Kamau Z Damali
RD Morgan 279380
GBCI segregation 535
PO Box 19033
Green Bay, WI 54307
Raynell
Morgan, a.k.a.Kamau, has been in segregation for over 12 years. By
the end of 10 years he was impulsively washing his hands hundreds of
times a day, heard loud clicking in his head, could not eat, was sure
“they “had planted devises in h9is head. the prison where he was
house, form SUPERMAX, now called WSPF, had lost a lawsuit by prisoner
and are no longer allowed to housed the severely mentally ill.
Kamau’s symptoms became so extreme , he was whisked out of WSPF to
GBCI and a segregation unit with worse conditions but one where the
mentally iol can be warehoused indefinitely with impunity. He was
transferred there last year and has been promised a graduation to
general population for many times. And like at WSPF , it seems “they are playing with him.
Raynell
Morgan is one of the many prisoner who we call political prisoners-
the real threat the present is to the prison system is Leadership.
Most of these men, many who are excellent jailhouse layers and win
cases (like the Supermax Lawsuit) , are politically aware, and among
those I know, Are do not advocate violence but are strong promoters
of human rights and universal justice . I feel very privileged to
know these men. They are aware, focused and respectful generally
of all life. Incidentally,
many prisoners have turned to the Muslim faith,partly , I think ,
because it gives them a strong structure for their day as well as
something strong to believe in- ALLAH. I have not heard any of the
prisoner muslims I know advocate violence of any sort.
Please send Kamau a
card or write a nurturing message. I am also posting some of his
writings here:
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South
Africa:
A
Tribute
By
Kamau T-Z, Damali
Originally
written: 2007
A
glorious place
A
conquered place
A
diversified place
A
place where
HIV/AIDS
claims
Millions
of lives.
Orphans
millions
Of
babies
A
place where
Poverty
is
a
landscape,
A
bully to the
down trodden
Where
hope is
A
paradox
Basking
in
the
sun
Ott
the
Afrikan Savannah
Where
despite
The
hardship and agony
Joyous
laughter
From
young children
Can
be heard
Across
the country,
The
Continent
and beyond
...
A
place where struggle
Keeps
hope alive
A
place where Nelson Mandela
resides
A
place where Aparthied
died
A
place of beauty
Tn
the midsl of
an
Ugly
tragedy.
The
Jungle!
By
Kamau T,Z. Dacaali
June
2007
Spools
Beautiful,
Enrapturing,
Curious
eyes
Watch
from
A
distance...
Screams
of happiness
Swing
from
Tree
to
tree
Optimism
Glides
freely
In
the sky
Pessimism
Arrogantly
strolls on
The
terrain
The
aroma
Of
life & death
Tenderly
perfumes
The
air
Peaceful
one moment
Tumultuous
the next
Native
hands
Delicately
tap
The
Tom Tom drums
Radiating
the
Jungle's
tempo
Precipitating
Its
creatures
Of
all varieties
To
function
With
its
spirit
To
the Oppressor
By
Kamau T.Z.
Damali
Originally
written: June 14th,
1996
I
have been doing
Your
dirty
work for
A
multitude
of years,
1
helped you terrorize
My
people
and bring
Them
to their
1
watched you
as you
Raped
my
daughter,
my
Mother,
my
sister, my wife.
Debased
my lather, my grandfather,
Mv
brother, my son and
Made
a
mock of
My
life ...
for
fun.
1
am here
To
let you know
That
I
am no longer
Your
knee-gore,
1
will
no
longer
Fight
in
your wars,
Sell
your drugs
Nor
destroy my community
With
your
guns
I
will however,
Fight
your injustice,
Oppose
your oppression,
And
struggle
to
uplift
The
New Afrikan community
Out
of its current
Depression
...
Against
the Odds!
,By
Kamau T.Z.
Damali
Orignally
written: May 2007
Crying
rivers over
A
matter
long gone
Out
of control
Backed
up against
the Wall
Caught
up in a twilight Zone:
Devoured
by
the
Hungry
mouth
Of
poverty
Stumbling
over
Body
after body
No
escape:
Swept
away
by
Furious
tides of
sorrow
Hanging
on
for tomorrow ...
Confused
over how
To
overcome misery
And
depression
While
aiming for progression
Moving
forward
On
both feet
Going
toe to toe
With
oppression
Becoming
more and more
Aggressive
As
courage compels
Me
to
battle
Against
the odds —
BREAKING
AMERIKKKA'S CHAINS
e
Composed
by Raynell D. Morgan
Aka
Kamau Tebogo Zulu Daniali
I
hove been one of Amerikka’s prisoners for over
400 years,
The
blood and tears of my people are her lakes & rivers,
She
claims to be the apotheosis of liberation,
When
fact
is,
she
enslaved two-thirds of the Black Nation, plundered the Red man
Of
his land and placed him on a reservation,
I
can still smell tile fresh blood of Afrikans & Natives, who died
in Ameriltkka's hand
from
years passed because they wanted to free. And
I
can still hear the crescendo
speeches from the
brothers & sisters of the 50' s & 60" s who vociferated:
I
am
man, 1 am a
woman,
as they marched in the street.
Blood
shot eyes from cold emotions & sleepless
nights;
I
can’t
recall
me last time I cried… I can't recall the last time I laughed…
Angry
frowns in the faces of
the prisoners,
definelong life struggles….
Ancient
memories as a youngsta; ~
Warm
hugs &
kisses
from the embrace and lips of my mother.
Screams
from new bom babies spell revolution ------
Conscious
Black men driven in hope & rage, in search
of
a
solution…
Generations
of young Black males with high esteem & dreams of going to
Harvard or
Yale
but instead they end up in one of Amerikkkars
prison cells.
Look
at me, my face is the face Amerikkka doesn't want the world to see;
Listen
to me,
my voice is the voice Amerikkka doesn't want the world to hear
Who
Am I?
'-.
I
am that brother, that Alkebulanian man whose mission is to break
Amerikkka's chains.
Working
.*»
Survive
ByKamauT.Z.Damali
(originally
written, June, 2007)
Up
and ready
At
4:30
Every
morning
Destination
The
local
steel mills
To
put in some
Work
to feed
His family...
Sweating
Black
From
the ahes
And
fumes
of
The
machinery
Working
for less
Than
ten dollars
A
hour...
He
believe he
Deserves
more
But
the Boss man
Isn't trying to hear it
Approached
at lunch break
By
a coworker
To join a union
And protest unfair
wages
And
working conditions
..
Intrigued
by the idea
But
can’t
afford
To
miss work or
Jeopardize
his job
Because
his
lovely
family
Depends
on him
For
food and bills,
Therefore,
He
regrettably turns
Down
the invitation ....
He
glares at His hands
Evaluating bruises
Left
by the steel,
The
drills,
hot
flames,
in
shame
He
puts his head down
And
goes
Back
to work ....
THE
END.
Kamau Z Damali
RD Morgan 279380
GBCI segregation 535
PO Box 19033
Green Bay, WI 54307
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