In my early days at San Francisco State University, even after I joined the Negro Students Association, there were some Negro students were more blue than black. I wondered about those students who didn't come to the NSA especially during the fight to morph into the BSU. Even myself had doubts about the change to BSU, so how could I decry the Frat brothers and sisters playing Whist in the cafeteria bid nigga, bid, you black radicals shut the fuk up. Then the revolution came, from Negro to Black. The BSU took over from Negro Students Association, we submitted to Black. Even the Frat boys submitted, Jerry Vernado among the crew of frat boys and sorority girls who flipped into blackness and were true. Even Danny Glover was into drama but flipped to join Black Arts West Theatre in the Fillmore, my theatre with playwright Ed Bullins, Hillery Broadous, Duncan Barber, Ethna Wyatt, Carl Bossiere to name a few. We can't leave out the musicians who taught us ritual theatre like Rafael Donald Garrett, Monte Waters, Earle Davis, Oliver Johnson, Dewey Redmon, to name a few.
Tired.
Sick an' tired
Tired of being
sick an' tired.
Lost.
Lost in the wilderness
of white america
are the masses asses?
cool.
said the master to the slave,
"No problem, don't rob an' steal,
I'll be your drivin wheel."
Cool.
And he wheeled us into 350 years
of black madness
to hog guts, conked hair, covadis
bleaching cream and uncle thomas
to Watts.
To the streets.
To the kill.
Boommm...2 honkeys gone.
Motherfuck the police
Parker's sista too.
Black people.
Tired.
sick an' tired.
tired of being
sick an' tired.
Burn, baby burn...
Don't leave dem boss rags
C'mon, child, don't mind da tags.
Git all dat motherfuckin pluck,
Git dem guns too, we 'on't give a fuck!
Burn baby burn
Cook outta sight
Fineburgs
whitefront
wineburgs
blackfront
burn, baby, burn
in time
he
will learn.
--Marvin X (Jackmon)
1965
from Soulbook Magazine, Fall, 1965