May 2013

open letter v.3.#madworld

 

From:
STEVENS, CONNOR C
open letter v.3.#madworld
May 2, 2013 9:24 AM
an open letter from an anarchist prisoner

May 1, 2013

It has been a year of nightmares, of renewed struggles, of rebirth and mass death. The passage of the seasons and the dreams that come with them revitalize the mysteries of time. One year since i was arrested, i write this letter in the interests of a few brief reflections.

Much has happened in these past twelve months. First and foremost i extend my gratitude to those who have supported my comrades and myself, and to those who continue to do so. Without this support the world would certainly seem a totally dark and lonely place to us. Thanks for a little warmth.
Also i extend my humble gratitude to those supporting political prisoners, prisoners of war, and prisoners in general. May it not be forgotten that when it comes to prison reform, the only acceptable tool is the bulldozer.

"It's about time we stopped acting so reasonable."
~ Arundhati Roy, Democracy Now! interview, March 18, 2013

We are dealing with psychopathic murderers.

They attempt to control the world, and by doing so only bring unnecessary pain and senseless destruction. Even as the hopelessness of our situation becomes more obvious every day, the enemy pursues the same old game of maintaining monopolies on their illusory control -- thinking they can corner the markets of information and violence. With the faith of fanatics they believe their tools will make them exempt from the list of the dead and endangered. When the course of events shows their fanaticism for what it is, they call it an "accident," an "isolated incident." If anyone challenges their self-declared monopolies, they are denounced as terrorists.

"... [P]eople tend to justify whatever affronts they don't avenge ... "
~ Guy Debord, In girum imus nocte et consumimur igni

Otra Poemas

 

5.16.13

"May
i lay with you awhile"

powerless
against the world
and we ask ourselves
why it is so cold
powerless
in the face of everything
anything
and memories are at war
with my pretending

powerless
and yet we plan
to get around
to planning
how to live, again

there is the obvious
the recognition
in my bones that
it doesn't matter

if anything mattered
really
would it be so much
to wield the power
to say yes

But experience shows
it doesn't matter much
and the answer, a re-
sounding No.




"Conquest was not so much"

having conquered with joy
the fingers, hair
dance in the flames
beneath the ocean

and they will go on dancing
whether or not
this is a prison
or we are alive to believe it

their conquest
was not so much
built on the backs of others
as it was with dancing partners

a freezing wind cuts through
the dark night in the blue city
on a green lake
and at last i am not alone, in your lap.

But i awake
and upon waking
work to forget the past.