Survival Poetry #3 Poor Magazine Street Writing Workshop Series February 27, 2026 Ellen Meadows We’re all going through an inner corridor A coldness in the heart. I have shivers down my spine remembering a warm blanket with my love. I take deep breaths and begin to count the spiral that cascade out In front of me. I try and become smaller. I clench my hands inside my coat, quicken my steps and hold onto the hope of warmth and home again. Everything moves slow. The changing lights, the sounds of people passing by I try to change that I’m experiencing but it truly feels as though I’ stuck and my body will Not regain feeling. Translation Todos estamos pasando por un corredor interior Una frialdad en el corazón. Tengo escalofríos por la columna vertebral Recordando una manta caliente Con mi amor. Me llevo profundo Respira y empieza a contar La espiral que sale en cascada Delante de mí. Intento hacerme más pequeño. Aprieto mi Manos dentro de mi abrigo, acelera mis pasos Y aferrarse a la esperanza de calor Y en casa otra vez. Todo se mueve lentamente. Las luces cambiantes, el Sonidos de gente pasando Intento cambiar eso Estoy experimentando, pero Realmente se siente como si yo Atascado y mi cuerpo lo hará No recuperar el sentimiento Gera I was 14 when my step Dad invited me and my best friend to go fishing, he also said we had to leave at 2am so we could get there by 3am. Me and my best friend B at the time was also 14 years old. We were excited to go fishing in the morning we stayed up till 2 am when we were to leave and we both were tired. While fishing under the San Mateo Bridge at around 3:30am my step Dad seen us were getting tired and offered me and B “something to keep us up and awake”. We both agreed as we watched my step Dad put a white substance in our cap of Jolt soda. We did not know what it was at the time and soon after learned it was “Crank”. It was normalized in my life and became the drug that got me sent to prison for 5 years and also became addicted to for another 5 years. I am alive now and have survived through it all thanks to this community and God. Translation Tenía 14 años cuando mi padrastro Nos invitó a mí y a mi mejor amigo a ir Pescando, también dijo que teníamos que Salir a las 2 de la mañana para que podamos conseguir Alli a las 3 de la mañana. Mi mejor amigo y yo B en ese momento también tenía 14 años Viejo. Estábamos emocionados de ir a pescar Por la mañana nos quedamos despiertos hasta 2 de la mañana cuando íbamos a irnos Y ambos estábamos cansados. Mientras pescaba bajo el San Mateo Puente alrededor de las 3:30 a. m. Mi padrastro nos vio Cansándose y me ofreció Y B "algo para mantenernos Arriba y despierto". Ambos estuvimos de acuerdo Mientras veíamos a mi padrastro poner Una sustancia blanca en nuestra gorra De refresco Jolt. No sabíamos Lo que era en ese momento y Poco después aprendí que era algo llamado "Crank". Se normalizó En mi vida y se convirtió en la droga que me envió a Prisión por 5 años y también Se volvió en mi adiccion por Otros 5 años. Estoy vivo Ahora y he sobrevivido A través de todo gracias a esta Comunidad y Dios. The Cold Benny Yee I remember being cold this is the feeling I wanted unfold The iceberg and chills Way beyond excitement and thrills It is like meeting villain Dr. Freeze yeah in the winter freezing at the knees The cold is not always my chosen Not like Elsa from Frozen The cold may never bother her But for me no heat gives me the brrr! These times I love to drink Swiss Miss Hot Cocoa something hot I can blow. Weather can be cold People do not havent been told El Frio (translation) Recuerdo tener frío Esta es la sensación que quería experimentar El iceberg y los escalofríos Mucho más allá de la emoción y la adrenalina Es como encontrarse con el villano Dr. Freeze Sí, en invierno, congelándome hasta las rodillas El frío no siempre es mi elección No como Elsa de Frozen Puede que a ella nunca le moleste el frío Pero a mí, ¡la falta de calor me da escalofríos! En estos momentos me encanta tomar chocolate caliente Swiss Miss Algo caliente que pueda soplar. El clima puede ser frío A la gente no se le ha dicho Pamela Bullock The last few weeks haven't been easy, once again I’ve been backdowned by a so-called “friend”-bumped out of my spot left in the freezing cold rain. I was in tears watching the Hail come down on my car. Thank God for my car. - I cant use the The heater and my windshield wiper don't work. I’m more worried about how cold people are Today. Translation Las últimas semanas no han sido fáciles. Una vez más, un supuesto "amigo" me hizo mal, dejándome aparcado bajo la lluvia helada. Lloraba viendo cómo caía granizo sobre mi coche. ¡Gracias a dios por mi coche! No puedo usarlo. La calefacción y el limpiaparabrisas no funcionan. Me preocupa mas que tan fría es la gente hoy. Antonio It does not snow in San Francisco. Yet, 55 or 60 degrees seems very cold for us. Houseless in the community feel cold Nights without blankets The City bothering them in the street corners That’s cold Translation En San Francisco no nieva. Sin embargo, 55 o 60 grados nos parecen muy fríos. Las personas sin hogar de la comunidad sienten frío. Noches sin cobijas. La ciudad los molesta en las esquinas. ¡Qué frío! The Hear & Now Antonio It’s cold on Cesar Chavez & Moon St. Rough terrain, open space, noise and car/vehicles distraction Twenty plus revolutionaries Brothers and sisters Wooden and metal folding chairs The environment feels peaceful The here and now is raw and authentic Members sharing current events Struggle never ends under the canopy tent Different perspectives Multitude of life experiences Adult and elderly sharing vision and wisdom The movement to advocate for the homeless if continued strong Translation Hace frío en la esquina de Cesar Chavez y Moon St. Terreno accidentado, espacio abierto, ruido y distracciones de autos/vehículos Más de veinte revolucionarios Hermanos y hermanas Sillas plegables de madera y metal El ambiente es tranquilo El aquí y el ahora es crudo y auténtico Los miembros comparten noticias de actualidad La lucha nunca termina bajo la carpa Diferentes perspectivas Multitud de experiencias de vida Adultos y ancianos comparten visión y sabiduría El movimiento para defender a las personas sin hogar se mantiene fuerte “Writing Exercise" About Feeling & Metaphors Happy Boots My boots have a grin today Walking makes them angry sometimes, but We still have to keep going. The ground Laughs on those days or during the nights. When my boots shake and glave back at me. While freezing wind blows punches. But today the work is happy, and My boots have a grin By Antoinio Wildflower Translation Hoy mis botas están de buen humor. A veces caminar las enfurece, pero tenemos que seguir adelante. El suelo se ríe en esos días o durante las noches. Cuando mis botas tiemblan y me miran fijamente. Mientras el viento helado azota. Pero hoy el trabajo es alegre, y mis botas están de buen humor. Andy The cold hurts the bones so deep It is nearly impossible to get Comfortable. I walk and worn out But mostly I weep my mind or sex And unfortunately I self medicate Translation: El frío cala hasta los huesos. Es casi imposible sentirse cómodo. Camino agotado. Pero sobre todo lloro, mi mente o mi sexo. Y, por desgracia, me automedico. Cold Shannon Gibson Under an over whipped blueberry sky. Exposer to once a loving element become stalling to my cores aura. Ecos of justice in the town of libration. Visually placed in a world with no space. Days of emotional algebra. Where am in the grand ratio. Displaced decimal. That should be irrational. Maxed in with fault lines. Ice chips if I could cry. Hoodie, coat, high socks, small space. Keep my shoes on. That’ll have to do Translation Bajo un cielo de arándanos demasiado agitado. Expuesto a un elemento que alguna vez fue amoroso, pero que ahora se estanca en mi aura más profunda. Ecos de justicia en la ciudad de la liberación. Visualmente ubicado en un mundo sin espacio. Días de álgebra emocional. ¿Dónde estoy en la gran proporción? Decimal desplazado. Eso debería ser irracional. Lleno de fallas. Trozos de hielo si pudiera llorar. Sudadera con capucha, abrigo, calcetines altos, espacio reducido. Me dejo los zapatos puestos. Eso tendrá que bastar. Shannon Gibson Ideling thoughts. Delayed time. Exposed doubts. Pastel emotion. Trains of ambitions. Blinded conductor. Full of joyo, afraid to share laughter. Publicly no one can care We all look to the sky With nowhere to stare. Translation Pensamientos ociosos. Tiempo retrasado. Dudas expuestas. Emoción pastel. Trenes de ambiciones. Conductor cegado. Lleno de alegría, temeroso de compartir la risa. En público a nadie le importa. Todos miramos al cielo. Sin ningún lugar donde mirar. Being Cold Illiana Esparza My hands aare numb. I can’t feel my face My Lips turning blue like the sky My teeth are shivering like maracas. Makes me want to dance cumbia Sleeping in the hard rock cement. Wishing that I can have the power to pull up the concrete and use it as a blanket. Wishing I can’t turn into a Opossum to keep my babies warm with my fur Translation Tengo las manos entumecidas. No siento la cara. Mis labios se ponen azules como el cielo. Mis dientes tiemblan como maracas. Me dan ganas de bailar cumbia. Duermo en el duro cemento. Ojalá tuviera el poder de levantar el cemento y usarlo como manta. Ojalá no pudiera convertirme en una zarigüeya para mantener calientes a mis bebés con mi pelaje. Francisco Javier Mercado Figueroa En realidad No se me Viene nada a mi mente Se quc el frío duele y para nosotros las perso Mas que Emos Vivido, en las calles solo son malas Esperiensar y tristes que ya no Queremos Recordar Translation En realidad No se me Viene nada a mi mente Se que el frio duele y para nosotros las perso Mas que Emos Vivido, en las calles solo son malas Esperiensar y tristes que ya no queremos grabar Yelamu Tello Hoy mismo y Ahorita Mismo yo recuerdo muchas Veces que pase mucho frio cuando andaba Viviendo mi vida sin tener un lugar donde Pasar Lo Noche una vez me Trate de dormir En un parqueadero que al recordar enel Lado Derecho arie un edificio de Apartamentos Y de lado Izquierdo un negocio también de La parte de atrás estaba una bodega abando Nada que yo siempre visitara ese lugar Regular ment en una noche mucho muy Bria yo recuerdo que Trataba de cobro garonne Con urt? carpeta pero no pude quiter? El fio El Frio Choco A mi en lo particular me gaur el frio, yo Pienso y sé que si me da frio puedo Arroparme con una sábana o con un Cueter y se me guita pero si tempo Calor ni aunque me quite toda la rapa y Siu hacer nada no puedo daime frio o estar bien Translation A mi en lo particular me gaur el frio, yo Pienso y sé que si me da frío puedo Arroparme con una sábana o con un Cueter y se me guitarra pero si tempo Calor ni aunque me bastante toda la rapa y Siu hacer nada no puedo daime frio o estar bien Triste Realidad de La Violencia Teresa Hoy 27 de febrero estando Yo disfrutando de una celebración De La vida de los Africanos Cuando se ascucanyo unos Disparos y desgraciadamente La vida de una persona fue Arrendada y de la misma manera La policia aparecio para fue Muy Triste que no pudo aser Nada nilapolicia nilas pramedico Todo fue inutil y cada dia Nuestros seres queridas Mueren a causa de policia De otras personas y La migra Acausado Laviolencia Translation: Today, February 27th, while I was enjoying a celebration of African life, gunshots rang out. Tragically, a life was taken. The police arrived shortly thereafter, but—sadly—neither they nor the paramedics could do anything; it was all in vain. Every day, our loved ones die at the hands of the police, other individuals, and immigration authorities—forces that have fueled this violence. Maria Cordero Yo Maria Siento Muchas Veces Frío de Ausencio Frío De Soledad Frío en Mioma y Corazón y Sintiendo El Frío De la Soledad. Hay Alleces Ue ui Una Copita o una Balso Plástica o carton cafe ni alcohol cosas Calientes u o te alientan ni el Alma está Vacía por la Falta De Un lugar tranquilo y apacible. Respirar contoda la actitud. Detonar una Buena Ducha caliente Sentir esas manos Que te aman De Bernardo y escuchar Alguna Voz Cuando no Tienes Esas cosas Te SienTes perdido Tu cuerpo Muriendo de un dolor Tan Fuerte Que es acompañado con congelación. Hasta no Respirar mas y Deseante Morir es la verdad de mi alma En soledad así que estoy en Las palmas del creador. Yo maria. Translation I, Maria, often feel The cold of absence, the cold of loneliness. Cold in my heart and my fibroids, feeling the cold of loneliness. There are comforts. A small glass or a cup, plastic or cardboard, coffee, or alcohol, things hot or anything that cheers you up, nor does the soul is empty for lack of a quiet and peaceful place. Breathe with all your heart. Take a good hot shower. Feel those hands that love you Bernardo's, and hear a voice. When you don't have those things, you feel lost, your body dying from a pain so strong that it's accompanied by freezing. Until I can't breathe anymore, longing to die is the truth of my soul. In solitude, so I am in the palms of the Creator. I, Maria. Luis Lopez En. Este.di. Hermoso. y.Soleado Donde. Estamos. Revnidos. Parado Hacer. Un Pequeño. Poema. Y. asi. Reconocer. que. Somos.un as Personas. Muy agradecidos con.dios.Porque.dios.nos. Ace. Verdaderamente. Felices Y. dichosos.Porque.dios. es.grande.yo Poderoso.y. eL. quida.de. Nosotros. En. este. Dia. Nublado.con.mucho. Frio.Pero.con.muchas. Ganas.de.seguin.Adelante Y.ser. Prosperos. Translation On this beautiful and sunny day, where we stand gathered, to write a small poem and thus acknowledge that we are very grateful people because God makes us truly happy and blessed because God is great and powerful and He is our protector on this cloudy and very cold day, but with a great desire to move forward and be prosperous. La boda de Javier Manuela Esteva Fuimos mis hermanos, sobrinos y you a la gran boda de nuestro amigo Javier en una colonia ubicada en toluca estado de Mexico. Nosotros vivíamos en la ciudad de México y estaba muy lejos para regresar en la noche pero Javier nos dijo que podíamos quedar en la casa de su Mama. Estuvimos felices en la fiesta y ya casi como a la 12 de la noche su mama nos pidio que salieramos de su casa porque la fiesta ya habia acabado. Le décimas que Javier nos había dicho que podíamos pasa la noche ahí y Ella dijo poes NO esta es mi casa y no de él. Nos tuvimos que salir al frío en la calle y todo nos estábamos congelando. Mi hermana Gloria no puedo a hacer aerobic para hacer color pero era insupportable. Yo cret movie nuis ma y pero estaban congeladas. Nuestro amigo Salió con nosotros a la calle Y de luna de miel se congeló Con nosotros en la calle. Lloraba de vergüenza for no Compiler su promesa. Poro pues Comprendimos que no era su Casa. Translation My siblings, nephews, and I went to our friend Javier's big wedding in a neighborhood in Toluca, State of Mexico. We lived in Mexico City and it was too far to go back that night, but Javier told us we could stay at his mom's house. We were happy at the party, and around midnight, his mom asked us to leave because the party was over. We told her that Javier had said we could spend the night there, and she said, "No, this is my house, not his." We had to go out into the cold street, and we were all freezing. My sister Gloria couldn't do aerobics to warm up, but it was unbearable. I watched a movie, but my mom and I were frozen. Our friend came out with us into the street, and he froze with us in the street. She cried with shame for not fulfill her promise. But then we understood that it wasn't his house. Evodeo Fernando Chavez Yo ? por gracias ha dios Como?. Como estrar colos Amigos. Ter ye? Como estas Personas buenas porque dios Bendice muca personas porte Son jochitas Teon blen peso 10 ? la mucho 6 gracias portodo Hakien este puistodo se Puede Eyo ge alafronte Hidormi En el piso. Codos mu ? Hay osi su primos muchos Un dolor ? palda Translation Me? Thank God How? How to be friends Friends. Are you? How are you? Good people because God Blesses many people They are good people I weigh 10? That's a lot 6 thanks for everything Whoever is here put everything It can be done I sleep on the floor. My elbows are hurting? There are many cousins A pain in my back Esto epercia de Suto. Nosotros Carpos La ? como nos Campit? Es ? Forme de dormir a ? Podemos ? el ? O a luarz conitos ? lo ? vine ? so metafísico Cantado por telekino? O sea meat por energia O medium para que Campadre nostros ditremeios A idos que t? ? A poo? Expecsortos y ? …………………..?????? Tiffany P Being homeless is pricey ? is being homeless Everything costs even More Food is sometimes hard 2 get Living somewhere 2 Sleep is hard 2 Translate ¿Es caro estar sin hogar? ¿Es caro estar sin hogar? Todo cuesta aún más. A veces es difícil conseguir comida. Vivir en algún lugar. Dormir es difícil. No Name WHEN THE TOAST IS YOU BURNiNg SeeRiNg -LAYERS Of SKIN CURLED UP LIKE The foam of A wave Flakes I couldn’t take it One more night Because at least Translation CUANDO LA TOSTADA ERES TÚ ARDIENDO Ventilando -CAPAS DE PIEL ARROJADA COMO LA espuma de una ola Escamas No pude soportarlo Una noche más Porque al menos things A collection of things make up who he is. He is the boots that he bought with money that wasn’t his. Boots that connect him to a ground that is shacked by papers. He ponders these meanings, the definitions of the shapes on the pants with the ripped cuffs hanging off HIS ass, these things. Pieces of shaved glass that his eyes lease. He has things, everyone has things, but not his things. His body, protected by things, is convinced that he is loved by them. His things. He sees wars waged over things, over small things, if only he could buy more things, HIS things, If only they could get their things back. Translation Un conjunto de cosas conforman quién es. Él es las botas que compró con dinero que no era suyo. Botas que lo conectan a una tierra temblorosa por papeles. Reflexiona sobre estos significados, las definiciones de las formas en los pantalones con los bajos rasgados colgando de su trasero, estas cosas. Trozos de vidrio raspado que sus ojos alquilan. Él tiene cosas, todos tienen cosas, pero no sus cosas. Su cuerpo, protegido por cosas, está convencido de que es amado por ellas. Sus cosas. Ve guerras libradas por cosas, por pequeñeces, si tan solo pudiera comprar más cosas, SUS cosas, Si tan solo pudieran recuperar sus cosas. cosas Una colección de cosas conforman quién es él. Él es las botas que compró con dinero que no era suyo. Botas que lo conectan con un suelo cubierto de papeles. Reflexiona sobre estos significados, las definiciones de las formas en los pantalones con los bajos rotos que le cuelgan del trasero, estas cosas. Trozos de vidrio afilado que sus ojos alquilan. Él tiene cosas, todos tienen cosas, pero no son sus cosas. Su cuerpo, protegido por cosas, está convencido de que es amado por ellas. Sus cosas. Ve guerras libradas por cosas, por pequeñas cosas, si tan solo pudiera comprar más cosas, SUS cosas, si tan solo pudieran recuperar sus cosas. Translation A collection of things makes up who he is. He is the boots he bought with money that wasn't his. Boots that connect him to a floor covered in papers. He reflects on these meanings, the definitions of the shapes in the ripped-hemmed pants that hang from his backside, these things. Sharp shards of glass that his eyes rent. He has things, everyone has things, but they aren't his things. His body, protected by things, is convinced that he is loved by them. His things. He sees wars fought over things, over small things, if only he could buy more things, HIS things, if only they could get his things back.

Survival Poetry 2026 YELAMU #4 Poor Magazine Street Writing Workshop Series MARCH 18, 2026 ADDITIONAL SUBMISSIONS and EDITS Shannon Gibson Idling thoughts. Delayed time. Exposed doubts. Pastel emotions. Trains of ambitions. Blinded conductor. Full of joy, afraid to share laughter. Publicly no one can care We all look to the sky With nowhere to stare. Translation: Pensamientos ociosos. Tiempo detenido. Dudas expuestas. Emociones pastel. Trenes de ambiciones. Conductor cegado. Lleno de alegría, temeroso de compartir la risa. En público, a nadie le puede importar. Todos miramos al cielo, sin un lugar donde fijar la vista. Pamela Bullock The last few weeks haven’t been Easy, once again I’ve been backdoored By a so-called “friend” - bumped out of my Spot left in the freezing cold rain. I was In tears watching the Hail come down on my Car. Thank God for my car - I can’t use the Heater and my windshield wiper don’t work. I’m more worried about how cold people are Today Translation Las últimas semanas no han sido fáciles. Una vez más, un supuesto “amigo” me hizo mal, Dejándome aparcado bajo la lluvia helada. Lloraba viendo cómo caía granizo sobre mi coche. Gracias a dios por mi coche? No puedo usuario. La calefacción y el limpiaparabrisas no funcionan Me preocupa más que tan fría es la gente hoy The Mail is Black Catalin Stef Uneven ground Air is smooth and pleasant Cracks, creases, broken pieces of asphalt Some grass between them Like leafs between teeth after eating My brain against, at war, in love Athletic competitions Justice, Abstraction Nature is all. News and legality History Future present All headaches Itches Sleepless words A Body: A migraine - through which rivers of cultures flow The mail - the shame No solidarity. The Latin alphabet Cyrilic Pictographic All American. All English. Sex. Porn. Uncircumcised. O! Shame Augustine. O! How earth shamed body this O! Mine. not mine Translation Terreno irregular El aire es suave y agradable Grietas, pliegues, trozos rotos de asfalto Algo de hierba entre ellos Como hojas entre los dientes después de comer Mi cerebro en contra, en guerra, enamorado Competiciones atléticas Justicia, Abstracción La naturaleza lo es todo. Noticias y legalidad Historia Futuro presente Todos los dolores de cabeza Picores Palabras insomnes Un Cuerpo: Una migraña —a través de la cual fluyen ríos de culturas El correo — la vergüenza Sin solidaridad. El alfabeto latino Cirílico Pictográfico Todo estadounidense. Todo inglés. Sexo. Porno. Sin circuncidar. ¡CUALQUIERA! Vergüenza Agustín. ¡CUALQUIERA! ¡Cómo avergonzó la tierra a este cuerpo! ¡Oh! Mío. No mío Tiffany P Being homeless is pricey Pricey is being homeless Everything costs even More Food is sometimes hard 2 get Living somewhere 2 sleep is hard 2 Translation No tener hogar es caro. Es costoso carecer de un hogar. Todo cuesta aún más. A veces es difícil conseguir comida. Tener un lugar donde dormir también es difícil. Survival Poetry 2026 YELAMU #4 Poor Magazine Street Writing Workshop Series No name When the toast is you Burning Searing Layers of skin curled up like the foam of a wave Flakes I couldn't take it One more night Because at least Translation Cuando el pan tostado eres tú Ardiendo Calcinando Capas de piel rizada como la espuma de una ola Escamas No pude soportarlo Una noche más Porque, al menos Al Thank you all!!! Beautiful people And Great souls Keep it up. Sy is the limit. And God Bless us All!! See you Next friday We Love You Translation ¡Gracias a todos!!! Gente hermosa y grandes almas. Sigan adelante. ¡El cielo es el límite! ¡¡Y que Dios nos bendiga a todos!! Nos vemos el próximo viernes. Los queremos.

Photo of cops guarding the 71st Ave safe parking lot. The planned closure of three so-called Solutions to homelessness in one week.  “They said we have to leave … today … I've been here for four years and I’ve never received help or resources or even a referral of someone to talk to about housing” said Dennis houseless resident of 3rd and Peralta tiny home community.   From the beginning of RoofLESS radio reporter Dennis’ placement into the Housing Consortium of the East Bay (HCEB) tiny home community at 3rd and Peralta, Dennis had an understanding that he would receive some kind of help to find permanent housing. Four years later, he is being evicted back to the streets.  Some Peralta residents got matched with housing. Many, like Dennis did not, partly because like Dennis noted, “When we don’t have access to email, like most of us out here, we can’t even receive the information when it is sent to us." This is just one example of the failure of service provision that is not Poverty Scholarship informed.  The Peralta tiny home community The stated reason for this closure was that HCEB lost their funding from the City, who allegedly believed the non-profit wasn’t doing the job they promised to do … Which even if this well-funded non-profiteer wasn’t doing their job, is that really the solution, City of Oakland, to kick houseless people back out to the street? “The City cut off funding for the Peralta cabins and 71st Ave safe parking lot claiming poor outcomes/low rates of people getting into permanent housing. Which is true ... but in practice they're basically using HCEB's misconduct as a way to punish the residents,” said Sathya Baskaran, street warrior and advocate with Sweeps Defense in Oakland.  Another image of the Peralta tiny home community In one 48 hour period, there were a total of three announced closures of these poltrickster designed, non-profiteer created “solutions” in Huchiun (Oakland): Mandela House (closure planned for April 22), 71st and San Leandro and 3rd & Peralta, 9both closed last week) which will result in literally hundreds of already swept, evicted, houseless people being spit back out to the streets with nothing, only to face sweeps, criminalization and arrest from a city government who doesn't care what happens to its houseless residents.  What seems blatantly obvious to me is these temporary solutions are convenient when the City wants to erase comeunities of houseless people in neighborhoods targeted for gentriFUKation, like MLK & West Grand, Wood Street, Mosswood Park and East 12th St. Then they deposit them back to the streets months and years later when they think no one is watching because they have no basic investment in caring for houseless people.  Looming in the background of all of this non-profiteer violence is the Encampment Abatement Policy (EAP) re-proposal by politrickster Ken Houston ( which this povertyskola has written about before). This is the 3rd time this council member, who has built his career on hating houseless peoples, has proposed a deeper level of anti-houseless violence. When houseless people respond to a sweep by moving to another location, politrickster Ken proposes arresting those people for the act of being houseless in public. And--just in case you may think that's all there is to it--thats just the tip of the pillaging, evicting and closing iceberg.  Over the last year and half, the Holland Hotel and the Henry Robison, both mangled (I mean managed) by the Big Poppa of all the non-profiteers, BACS,  were also closed, throwing over 300 houseless out to nowhere. Again. And then before that as some readers might remember, the tiny home village run by BOSS, which was set up to temporarily “house” the hundreds of violently swept residents of Wood street commons also closed after being “abandoned” by BOSS.  One after the other, the “solutions” ended. All created by large non-profits, funded by the City, with budgets based on “service provision” for people in poverty with flowery mission statements like… "…we  fulfill our mission by providing programs and services for the unhoused; resident service coordination; developing and operating permanent supportive housing and partnering with other developers…" These non-profits are in the “business” of solving poverty, which, in my humble opinion, is a crime of krapitalism. Money in the millions are “spent” paying executives to “manage” peoples who are just trying to stay alive and safe, who ourselves have little or no money at all.  In addition to the fact that many CEO’s and CFO’s of these huge non-profits get triple digit “salaries” for the job of “managing” us who have no jobs, or homes, or money. Many of them aren’t even doing the jobs they claim to be doing. That said there are people with great love in their hearts that do service provision and many solid, real non-profits doing the real work - but something has gone very wrong in the ‘management” of us poor people in these big non-profits and the hands of the disinterested and hateful government are not clean in all of this. I call it a krapitalist crime because the principals of Poverty Scholarship -informed street advocacy that us poor, houseless and formerly houseless advocates at POOR Magazine, Manna From Heaven, Self- Help Hunger Program and Wood Street Commons are doing means doing whatever needs to be done to support fellow houseless poverty skolaz where they are at. We know what and how to get what's needed for folks because we have all been in crisis with housing, hunger, sweeps, and unattainable services ourselves. In addition, these acts of radical street service, or what we at POOR magazine call “Love-work”, aren’t tied to salaries and government grants - they are informed by us, for us.  For example, the HOMEfulness Hotel Fund formally launched in 2024, when the violent Grants Pass Versus Johnson sweeps amped and morphed into daily, hourly violent sweeps on houseless comeUnities all across the Bay Area.   It’s only a temporary “fix” as it supports houseless, disabled elders, and families get into a motel room for up to two weeks. The funding comes directly from housed people with resources who learn about radical redistribution and ComeUnity reparations and Poverty Scholarship informed redistribution. Something as simple as temporary hotel and motel housing vouchers barely exist within the City support network.  Myself and Aunti Frances and Omowale Fowles have sat down with these big non-profits and told them to give us, the street workers, access to the vouchers so we can make sure they are getting to the people who need them all the time. That conversation went nowhere.  Another example is the powerful street outreach led by Wood Street Commons in Huchiun, providing healthy, home-cooked food, groceries and haircuts to folks on the street and POOR Magazine’s RoofLESS radio - a street based food and media distribution to folks struggling with the violence of sweeps and Sliding Scale Cafe  - a free grocery and food distribution project launched at HOMEfulness 1 in Huchiun every Thursday. Now we have added every Friday at HOMEfulness 4 in Yelamu ( SF). Manna from Heaven and Self-Help Hunger Program are also poor people led movements providing street based food, medicine, and support wherever and however its needed.  Not to mention Tent City 3 and the sanctuary land projects in Seattle led by poor and houseless people and in Huchiun - Derik Soo’s sanctuary houseless community in East Oakland and a new self-determined project on a parking lot “owned” by Laney College . With stewardship support by Wood Street Commons and many of us poor people-led movements. In addition, we poor and houseless folks are working as hard and fast as we can to build more HOMEfulness projects  - Rent-free forever, healing housing projects in Huchiun, Yelamu and Tovaangar, the first one of which now houses 24 houseless youth, adults, and elders in Deep East Huchiun (Oakland) with permission and guidance from the 1st Nations Ohlone Lisjan people of this land.  The goals of the HOMEfulness projects is not to “Own” or buy or control Mama Earth, not to raise “equity” or profit, but to rather unSell and steward these small parcels of Mama Earth and permanently remove them from the commodities market, which means we are actively decolonizing and decommodifying land so it doesn’t continue to be a source of profit, loss, debt and gain, which leads to evictions, homelessness, and deadly gentriFUKation. Hence the name HOMEfulness. “I’m Ifalayo and I was houseless on Wood Street for 10 years, now i am HomeFul at HOMEfulness.” Ifalayo moved from homelessness into HOMEfulness last year, and I, who was chronically houseless for most of my life beginning in childhood and then later as an adult after surviving violent gentriFUKation in the Mission Dist of San Francisco with my son, became forever Homefull for the first time in my life in 2022 when the City of Oakland finally granted HOMEfulness a Certificate of Occupancy after a 10 year fight with them to get approved for permits and all the endless costly requirements they placed in front of us. Ifalayo and I spoke to the KPIX in this moment of so much eviction violence by HCEB . Sadly, 4 years, thousands of sweeps, evictions, closures and deaths of our houseless relatives later, nothing seems to have changed in the City process to make poor peoples solutions actually happen. Multiple cities have claimed to be listening to poor peoples solutions. Lots of talk about Measure W funding in Oakland under Lee, and providing real community services in San Francisco under Lurie, and yet poverty scholarship informed programs like City Vitals in SF are closed, violent sweeps and criminalization continue in both cities, all the so-called housing solutions all across the Bay are still closing and HOMEfulness is still getting no help in the City permitting process,  Our pro-bono architect is trying to submit building plans for HOMEfulness2, another location in Deep East Huchiun, and the City has already thrown multiple roadblocks in our way. And HOMEfulness 4 Yelamu (SF) is right behind, as we are struggling right now to find a licensed engineer who can help us before we can even submit the plans to San Francisco. In both cities, no help, no love, no support for this homeless peoples solution to homelessness.  This Love-work is hard and everyday, because krapitalism isn’t a human system and more people are becoming houseless with some of the cuts in Huchiun and in San Francisco where they are proposing to end the Pandemic housing Support, which will result in hundreds, maybe thousands, more people facing eviction. So its time for these settler governments to operate with more basic humanity. Stop closing and evicting, and ending and erasing. This is an emergency. People are dying. What will it take for these towns to listen and support poor and houseless people with our own solutions. We have them.   Please show up at 9:30am, April 14th to Oakland City Council’s special meeting about Ken Houston’s Encampment Management Policy. The only response to this state vioence is the truth from the people   Stay tuned - April 28th POOR Magazine and Wood Street Commons and Manna From Heaven and Self-help Hunger Program (and More ) are planning a Speak out /demand action at Oakland City Hall to demand houseless poeples resources come back to the houseless people-led solutions - for more info email poormag@gmail.com . To support the HOMEfulness Hotel Fund and or the HOMEfulness project & Bank of ComeUnity reparations go to poormagazine.org/donate        --

When it comes down to the “SSI shuffle," many people with disabilities have been caught up in the deck of cards. According to the analysis completed by the Center on Budget and Policy in 2025, 57,600 disabled California residents, 35,900 New York residents, 30,800 Florida residents and 23,600 Texans lost their disability benefits or had their income severely reduced by the SSI administration. There were many cases where benefits were lost due to the errors on the SSI administration’s behalf. I was one of the many who had their livelihoods compromised and was forced into severe financial hardship by a “judge” who made up her mind to close my case without even taking a look at the documentation submitted by doctors and psychologists that stated my condition had worsened. The hearing via telephone had my anxiety going into overdrive because I was pounced on and treated with contempt for no reason whatsoever. The hearing was rescheduled for another date and I was to receive another phone call from the “judge” to determine my eligibility but unfortunately for me, I didn’t get a call back. However, I received a letter in the mail saying that my disability benefits were terminated. How can a “judge” be able to destroy the livelihoods of so many people without even taking the time to review any documents submitted? How can “judges” pre-judge a case with the “deserving vs. undeserving” mindset before giving citizens a chance to plead their case? For this to be the “greatest country in the world,” the powers that be have a inhumane devilish habit of handing the people death sentences in the forms of hunger, homelessness. For those of us who are struggling with mental health illnesses, they contribute to further mental deterioration with the stroke of a pen or a stamp on paper. The unfortunate experiences I faced include two consecutive years of being handed down my “death sentence to poverty” during the holidays. I was forced to endure the hours long wait in the SSI office, listening to the rage, despair and hopelessness of others before me in line during the “most wonderful time of the year”- baaaah-humbug is an tragic understatement! These “judges” celebrate with their families while many SSI recipients who have lost their only means of income fall deep into hardship, depression and thoughts of suicide due to judges who possess the mindset of “deserving vs. undeserving.” Folks like myself were dismissed without a second glance at the evidence submitted to make sure that we continue to survive, and worse yet we are sent letters in the mail from the SSI administration claiming that we owe thousands in “overpayment” from “ underpayments” we had received from day one. Many of us, including myself, have lost our disability benefits due to the error on the part of the SSI administration only to be sarcastically told “sorry,” and with or without hostility, we are escorted out of the office by armed security guards. This “Sssssystem” has a bad, devilish habit of using computer errors as a scapegoat to disguise the crimes committed against humanity. The computer does not come out of the box programmed to pass down “death sentences of poverty” unless “man” programs it that way. Until the spirit of humanity is restored, we, the disabled and those who work hard until age 65-70 just to qualify for the disability or retirement benefit crumbs, will continue to be “slaves to a “ ssssystem” that is wicked and brazen enough to send you a bill even while six feet under. And with that said, Amerikkka will never be “great again” unless it becomes “human again” Queennandi

The entertainment/music industry has indeed earned the name “hollyweird” with the upgrading of twisted innuendos that desecrate cultural traditions and set trends that cause confusion. Some Hip hop artists today are content with the demonization of their talents and the compromised images required in order to remain a “chart topper” generating billions for an agenda that contributes to cultural destruction. The “hot ticket item” so to speak is intertwining of gangsta rappers wearing dresses,  demanding “street cred” for putting in work representing that “thug life.” The lyrics and the wardrobe are like night and day, scrambling up whatever messages that is put out into the airwaves that suggests that it is “gangsta” to give up your manhood and fall prey to “the dollar bill distraction.” Black men in the entertainment industry have always been approached with the pitch to play roles wearing women’s clothing and putting on wigs, ignoring the hidden attack on masculinity that is cleverly portrayed to the masses as a form of entertainment. To further up the ante on the psychological warfare against people of color, in particular African descendants, enters the “hip hop propaganda” of “Black is evil,” with rappers like lil nas x embracing the lie of accepting that we are a people that are only bound for hell while being sodomized by the devil at the same time. Very seldom would you hear conscious rap that promotes medicine to the restoration of the black warrior concept and mindset not just for the man, but the women also. Women in the industry are sexualized and reduced to accepting “ratchedness” by way of devaluing ourselves, completely convinced that one’s worth is determined by how many fights are posted on social media and having sex with ill-mannered, so called gangstas in female clothing. What was known as Rap (Revolutionary Arts & Poetry) is slowly becoming extinct and replaced with self-serving rappers that willfully submit to creating music that subconsciously plants the seeds of racism, self-hatred, blind consumers and the rejection of spiritual/cultural resurrection. The world of entertainment has a history of psychopathic racism that has become normalized to the point that we don’t bother to read between the lines and resist the blatant disrespect inflicted upon us as a people and a culture. From Mickey Mouse doing blackface, the remix of the “song of the south” and the mentality of a generation that fell for the destructive con that has mistaken the cemetery for disneyland, one could say that unless the “hollyweird” as we know it is uprooted and the artists reinvest in the vision to reclaim the power to control the content of the material created, we will continue to be subjected to exploitation and the stigma of being labeled as koons who sell out to the highest bidder. Queennandi X

Photo by Gautam N  on Unsplash | Alt Text: A picture of a green hillside with several scattered buildings. Aware, awake, I am. Being here can be so hard. People in pain, people dying, people losing their hearts, their minds, all around. I want to be strong. I want to help. I am here, too.  Some days feel like walking death even though I have been freed from substances that harmed me. When will the hatred end? What must we do? Where does real help come from? The institutions are compacting the pain, creating more trauma. Can I say and do something without being disciplined? Where is the land where we can truly help? I have a vision--a dream of wholeness and true joy. Living with nature and sharing with others. I won't give up. I still have breath. I am aware. I am awake. I am here.

Special Screening of the new movie Crushing Wheelchairs  in honor of the Angelversary of Luís Góngora Pat and many other victims of anti-houseless violence. FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE Contact for film:  tiny gray-garcia or Muteado Silencio  Phone:  510-435-7500 Email: poormag@gmail.com Organization:  POOR Magazine / Homefulness Contact for family:  Adriana Camarena  Phone : 650-799-6621 Email : justice4luis@gmail.com Organization : justice4luis.org What Prayer Ceremony and Film Screening of Crushing Wheelchairs Movie in honor of Luís Góngora Pat’s Angelversary  When 6:00 PM, Tuesday, April 7, 2026  Where Artists’ Television Access (ATA) 992 Valencia St, San Francisco, CA   Note: Family of Luis Gongora Pat, Equipto, rapper and artist from the Frisco Five and Writer, co-Director tiny gray-garcia and Poverytskolaz from the movie will be present at the screening for comments and talk-back after the film (Link to trailer of the movie HERE ) Luis Demetrio Góngora Pat was an indigenous father, brother, uncle and Sun. Luis Góngora was also houseless.His story and struggle is embodied in one of the protagonists featured in the new movie Crushing Wheelchairs, about the violence of homelessness, sweeps and police terror On April 7, 2016, San Francisco police officers Michael Mellone and Nate Steger fired multiple rounds—both bean bag and live ammunition—killing Luis. Despite administrative sanctions issued by the SFPD against the officers involved, and a Grand Jury finding sufficient evidence to proceed with a criminal case, Mellone and Steger were never held accountable; once again demonstrating how the justice system protects itself rather than its victims. The case of Luís Góngora Pat was pursued by civil rights attorney Adante Pointer and supported by thousands of community members. His killing was one of the cases that sparked the hunger strike known as the Frisco Five, which ultimately led to the resignation of then–police chief Greg Suhr.  José Góngora Pat, brother of Luís, expressed deep gratitude to supporters: “Thank you to everyone who stood with us over these past 10 years in remembering my brother, Luis. I am especially grateful to my cousins Luis and Carlos Poot Pat, and to Laura Guzmán, who were with me during the days when I was broken in body and spirit. We do not say goodbye to my brother, because now and always he lives in our minds and hearts. We will never forget him.” He added, “We are grateful to his family, his wife and children in Teabo, Yucatán, who have always given us permission to remember him each year in their name. Many thanks as well to Adriana Camarena, who has always been with us through good times and bad.” In closing, José thanked Tiny Gray Garcia and the POOR Magazine/HOMEfulness movement: “Thank you for your support from the day Luis died to today, as you present this film in his name, which exposes how unhoused people are treated in San Francisco.” On Luís’s 10th Angelversary, his community will celebrate his life with a screening of Crushing Wheelchairs . Crushing Wheelchairs  is an original screenplay written by houseless poet and povertyskola tiny gray-garcia. Adapted from her award winning play of the same name, the film focuses on the violence of homelessness, city and state sponsored sweeps, and poLice terror. The movie includes an all houseless/formerly houseless cast whose motto is: “We aren’t acting, we are living.” It was shot primarily in houseless communities (encampments) and on the streets in Oakland and San Francisco. The movie focuses on six ancestors of homelessness, sweeps, eviction and poLice terror. In addition to the story of  Luís Góngora featured in the movie it also features his brother José Gongora. “Witnessing the murder of my friend was so traumatizing,it’s hard to even speak about,” said Stephanie Grant, who witnessed the murder of Luis while houseless and pregnant. “He was a peaceful man and did nothing to deserve that.” She plays herself in the movie Crushing Wheelchairs. Adriana Camarena, who has accompanied the family for over a decade, said, “Luis was murdered by brutal police, but his homelessness was an outcome of systemic injustices that continue to affect poor and indigenous migrant communities today. Today we celebrate Luis’s life as a man of maize, and the resilience of his family and community, who continue to seek healing despite the violence and hatred they have endured.” To mark the anniversary, José worked with artist Patrick Piazza and the Poster Syndicate to create an image that honors his brother’s roots as a Maya campesino and guardian of maize. The image will be distributed at ATA as part of the film screening and celebration of his life. We will begin the event with a prayer ceremony in honor of Luis outside the theatre which will include 1st Nations prayer, Aztec Dance and a short piece by movement artist Pearl Ubungen entitled “Dedicado a Luis” to John Coltranes’s “After the Rain”   Time allowing a very brief video by Jose Góngora Pat about “Mool Tunich: Mayan sacred crossroad markers and rest stops” will also be screened.  Link for Crushing Wheelchairs Trailer HERE ESPAÑOL   Asesinado por ser una persona sin hogar e indígena en San Francisco: 10º aniversario luctuoso (Angelversario) de Luís Góngora Pat Proyección especial de la nueva película Crushing Wheelchairs En honor al aniversario luctuoso de Luís Góngora Pat y de muchas otras víctimas de la violencia contra personas sin hogar. Qué Ceremonia de oración y proyección de película en honor al aniversario luctuoso de Luís Góngora Pat Cuándo 6:00 PM, martes 7 de abril de 2026 Dónde Artists’ Television Access (ATA) 992 Valencia St, San Francisco, CA Nota: La familia de Luis Góngora Pat, Equipto —rapero y artista de los Frisco Five —, y la escritora y codirectora Tiny Gray-García, junto con miembros de PovertySkolaz, estarán presentes en la proyección de la película para ofrecer comentarios y participar en una sesión de preguntas y respuestas tras la función. _________ Luis Demetrio Góngora Pat fue un padre, hermano, tío e hijo indígena. Luis Góngora también vivía sin hogar. Su historia y su lucha están encarnadas en uno de los protagonistas que aparecen en la nueva película “Crushing Wheelchairs”, sobre la violencia de la falta de vivienda, las redadas y el terror policial. El 7 de abril de 2016, los oficiales de la policía de San Francisco Michael Mellone y Nate Steger dispararon múltiples rondas—tanto balas de bolsa (bean bag) como munición real—causando la muerte de Luis. A pesar de las sanciones administrativas impuestas por el SFPD a los oficiales involucrados, y de que un Gran Jurado encontró evidencia suficiente para proceder con un caso penal, Mellone y Steger nunca fueron responsabilizados; demostrando una vez más cómo el sistema de justicia se protege a sí mismo en lugar de proteger a sus víctimas. El caso de Luís Góngora Pat fue llevado por el abogado de derechos civiles Adante Pointer y respaldado por miles de miembros de la comunidad. Su asesinato fue uno de los casos que detonó la huelga de hambre conocida como los Frisco Five, la cual logró la renuncia del entonces jefe de policía Greg Suhr. José Góngora Pat, hermano de Luís, expresó su profunda gratitud a su comunidad: “Gracias a todas las personas que nos acompañaron por 10 años recordando a mi hermano, Luis. Especialmente, doy gracias a mis primos Luis y Carlos Poot Pat y Laura Guzmán que estuvieron conmigo en los días cuando me encontraba roto de cuerpo y alma. No le decimos adiós a mi hermano porque ahora y por siempre está en nuestra mente y corazón. Nunca lo olvidaremos.”   Agregó, “Agradecemos a su familia, su esposa e hijos en Teabo Yucatán, que nos dieron siempre el permiso de recordarlo cada año en su nombre. Muchas gracias también a Adriana Camarena que estuvo siempre con nosotros en las buenas y en las malas.”  Para concluir José agradeció a Tiny Gray Garcia y la comunidad de Pobres Sabios: “Gracias por su apoyo desde el día en que murió Luis hasta hoy que presentan esta película en su nombre que pone en evidencia cómo se trata a la gente sin hogar en San Francisco.” En el 10º aniversario luctuoso (angelversario) de Luís, su comunidad celebrará su vida con la proyección de Crushing Wheelchairs . Crushing Wheelchairs  es un guión original escrito por la poeta sin hogar y povertyskola tiny gray-garcia. Adaptada de su obra premiada del mismo nombre, la película se centra en la violencia de la falta de vivienda, los desalojos (“sweeps”) impulsados por la ciudad y el estado, y el terror policial. La película cuenta con un elenco compuesto en su totalidad por personas sin hogar o anteriormente sin hogar, cuyo lema es: “No estamos actuando, estamos viviendo.” Fue filmada principalmente en comunidades sin hogar (campamentos) y en las calles de Oakland y San Francisco. La película se centra en seis ancestros de personas afectadas por la falta de vivienda, los desalojos forzosos, los desahucios y el terror policial. Además de la historia de Luís Góngora, que figura en la película, la película también figura la historia de su hermano, José Góngora. La película se enfoca en seis ancestros marcados por la falta de vivienda, los desalojos, las expulsiones y el terror policial. Uno de los protagonistas principales es Luís Góngora, y la película también incluye la participación de su hermano José. “Presenciar el asesinato de mi amigo fue tan traumatizante que es difícil incluso hablar de ello,” dijo Stephanie Grant, quien presenció el asesinato de Luis mientras estaba sin hogar y embarazada. “Era un hombre pacífico y no hizo nada para merecer eso.” Ella se interpreta a sí misma en la película Crushing Wheelchairs. Adriana Camarena, acompañante por una década de la familia, mencionó, “Luis fue asesinado por policías brutales, pero su situación de calle fue consecuencia de injusticias sistémicas que siguen afectando a comunidades pobres, indígenas y migrantes hoy en día. Hoy celebramos la vida de Luis como hombre de maíz, y la resiliencia de su familia y su comunidad, que continúan buscando sanar a pesar de la violencia y el odio que han enfrentado.” Para conmemorar la fecha, José trabajó con el artista Patrick Piazza y el Sindicato de Póster para crear una imagen que conmemora las raíces de su hermano cómo campesino maya y guardián del maíz. La imagen se distribuirá en ATA como parte de la muestra fílmica y celebración de vida del difunto. Iniciaremos el evento con una ceremonia de oración en honor a Luis, en el exterior del teatro, la cual incluirá una oración de las Primeras Naciones, danza azteca y una breve pieza de la artista del movimiento Pearl Ubungen titulada “Dedicado a Luis” , con la canción de “After the Rain” de John Coltrane. Si el tiempo lo permite, también se proyectará un breve vídeo de José Góngora Pat sobre “Mool Tunich: cruces de caminos sagrados mayas y lugares de descanso”. Please join us on April 7th  at 6pm at Artists Television Access for this special ceremony and screening for the family and community on Luis’ angelversary Trailer of the movie Here Follow:  📣 @poormagazine @justice4luis

By Maria Cordero Cuba es un lugar petrolero que por eso el poderoso líder estadounidense le está denegando maquinarias para progresar por él afirma quedarse con Cuba y sus riquezas que desde tiempos remotos ha sido una audición estar en guerra. Los trabajadores cubanos no saben qué hacer. Puesto que su líder Cubano Miguel Diaz Canel tiene que hacer una entrevista para Washington. Puesto que también les esta haciendo problemas con visas y migración y siguen los abusos tanto sexuales sobre niñas pequeñas. Cuba es uno de los países donde hay más prostitucion al grado de 9-10 abusos. Desde Fidel Castro y todavia sigue el racismo lo de imigracion falta de cultura y tomar a la gente como esclavos forzar sin derechos. Tener pobreza sin recursos solo el abuso. Sin poder hacer nada solo explotaciones. Físicas económicas y monetarias por tanta las cabezas mayores como liderazgos y presidentes  Translation Cuba is an oil-rich nation; for this very reason, the powerful U.S. leader is denying it the opportunities needed to progress—all in a bid to seize control of Cuba and its wealth. This ambition to wage war dates back to ancient times, leaving Cuban workers at a loss as to what to do. Consequently, their Cuban leader, Miguel Díaz-Canel, is compelled to seek an audience with Washington. Furthermore, the U.S. is creating obstacles regarding visas and migration, while abuses—particularly the sexual abuse of young girls—continue unabated. Cuba is one of the countries with the highest rates of prostitution, reaching a level where abuse is rampant among children as young as 9 or 10. Since the era of Fidel Castro, racism has persisted, alongside issues of migration, a lack of cultural sensitivity, and the treatment of people as slaves—forced into labor and stripped of their rights. The population endures poverty and a lack of resources, facing nothing but abuse. Powerless to act, they are subjected solely to exploitation—physical, economic, and financial—at the hands of those at the very top: the senior officials, the leadership, and the presidents.

"Our ancestors chose to be kidnapped from Africa”- Kanye West “Black families don’t need fathers because we had strong women.”- Herschel Walker “I’m not black, I’m OJ (Simpson)” “Growing up, I came up with this name: Cablinasian “- Tiger Woods The “koon quotes” mentioned above are examples of how internalized racism is another form of hate just as dangerous and effective as the biased opinions of white (non) supremacy—the belief that assimilation and perpetuation of the anti-black narrative by so-called negroes is the “amerikkkan way," to seek acceptance by white folks with slavemaster mindsets. These “handkerchief headed negroes” have basically taken blood oaths to ensure that their people stay in their place, and they utilize the horrors of enslavement in such a way that we should celebrate the travesty and throw away any keys (knowledge) that will unlock the shackles from our minds. What’s tempting to house “negroes” are the benefits of wealth and temporary access— to sit at “the round table” with their masters and gleefully assist in the plot to further exterminate us physically, mentally, spiritually and culturally until we have no trace whatsoever of our identities. Koonin’ and buffoonin’ is also a front to keep the fear of white (non)supremacy concealed, the fear of the repercussions and consequences such as being blacklisted, incarcerated or killed for resisting a structure that is designed to wipe us out as a nation, regardless if an individual is a koon or a warrior for the cause. One of the tools used in the making of a koon, aka sellouts, is to brainwash educated folks of Color into weaponizing any form of progress and using it against the very people who may have looked upon the koon in disguise to “represent us” in the war for liberation, reparations and self-sufficiency. We have hard-core koons like Candace Owens, who is more concerned with assuring white students that “slavery is over” and that “black people are just making excuses” for everything. This aspect of Koonin’ is the typical approach made by house negroes who are appointed to be the maga spokesperson for the trumpaklans, to relieve them of the task of voicing their racist views without being looked upon as racist themselves. The koon who is willing to denounce their culture and use their crumb of power to further oppress their own in ways that are more cruel than their slave master counterparts is the perfect puppet to place on the front lines of this hateful rhetoric, only to be thrown under the bus ten fold once there is no more use for them. The other outcome is the fact that once a buffoon is “kicked to the curb,” the aunt Jemima and uncle Ben always come crawling back to the people, faking their humbleness to gain sympathy from the community, when in reality they are only worthy of punishment for their betrayal by putting “the necklace” on them thus sending the message that there are penalties for contributing to the attempt to annihilate our very existence. The “Koonin and buffoonin” minstrel show always comes with a cancellation date. Afterwards, when they are face to face with the Ancestors whose blood was spilled on this earth to pave a way for their progress, they will forever hear the echoes of ancestor voices in their ears, reciting the old African proverb: “If you don’t acknowledge your ancestors, they will not acknowledge you,"—a reminder that there is no profit in “ bootlickin and buck dancing” for the slave masters representing MAGA, because eventually they will get rid of koons also. It is just a matter of time. Queennandi

As far as man can remember, to do battle has been a destructive staple in the defined and redefined books of history. Whether it was to uphold the hoarding of wealth, land and cultural power, mankind has always made sure that the shedding of blood was on the agenda no matter how many lives were lost. The Vietnam war, the Nigerian civil war and the French wars of religion alone claimed the lives of up to at least 15-20 million people, and those who survived were subjected to oppression. To this day, people live in impoverished conditions under the razor blade-like boot heels of wicked dictators who would prefer to boast with a toast, drinking the finest wines while feasting on Mama Nature’s “exotic” forbidden foods from billion dollar homes and boats…. While the rest of us are living in subhuman conditions, slitting each other’s throats over a grain of Jasmine rice, salty potted meats and parasite infested water.  And rest assured, if we have a president who is beastly, greedy enough to take away any crumbs of hellthcare, moldy housing, deserved benefits and the food given to us thanks to the generosity of food pantries, WAR has been declared upon the people!  Cambodia is one of the most beautiful, morally and culturally humble countries I have ever been blessed to experience. If I was hungry, there was always a kind soul that saw it as a sincere honor to sit and break bread with the family. Now our “Sistuh-neighbors” Thailand and Cambodia are at war, and according to a correspondent from the non-profit organization “The Queen’s Consortium of Humanity” in Cambodia, “Thailand is attacking the borders of Cambodia for not just land, but for precious and sacred artifacts. Kinda like how the white people did the original Black Egyptians!” The correspondent went on to say, “The plague of drug trafficking has upgraded to horrific levels. It is starting to look like a worldwide agenda to break our spirits with famine and supply us with the devil’s candy to self-medicate us into another “zombieland” that even sister (Queennandi Shabazz) experienced in her neighborhood back in the states.” War is only good if man continues to be hell bent on destroying man- and Mama Earth. So a word to the people- stand strong in faith, as the devilish people of the world continue to declare war against us, the wicked has forgotten that GOD and MAMA NATURE has declared WAR also. And the devil is not going to win.

Por/By Maria Soy Maria. Con miedos y temores sobre la migración, es una forma muy difícil. Hay muchos obstáculos para superar-- sobre todo en lenguaje, y en conseguir trabajo y falta experiencia con desarrollo.  A veces las personas nos denigran burlándose por no saber sistemas de desarrollo y muchas de las veces nos sentimos presionados por los avances de la tecnología. Y a veces letra faltas de ortografía avances en coordinar lo que nos dicen los maestros. Yo solo pido paciencia y comprensión para navegar este sistema entonces continuaré con lo mio. Soy una mujer extremadamente que si algo me propongo lo hago avance de lo que sea y yo como migrante les repito que las cosas son más problemas pero nada imposible de no superar aquí la situación es la preparación. Al venirme de México el sueño americano es salir adelante. Pero muchas veces el nerviosismo de la migra y los estatutos que hay nos impiden salir adelante. También hay problemas para obtener un papel legal, muchas veces mienten y roban esos ahorros que con una ilusión juntamos para un documento. Les podria contar mas cosas faltas de respeto abusos y violencia cosas e inimaginables que no me entenderían más allá del extremo. Esta es mi vivencia sobre mi gran dolor de encías y dientes que me han hecho estragos al grado de la desesperación. Ha causado dolor de oído y cabeza por estar muy hinchada. Mi dentadura está con infección y no puedo conciliar el sueño, esa desesperación de llorar por no tener recursos de atenderme ni economía para solventar esa situación. Tengo muchas ganas de correr, de gritar, es desesperante esa situación. Necesito atención médica pero no puedo cubrir esos gastos y soportarlo de día tarde y noche y ni acudiendo a cosas naturales se calma. Es como si taladraran mi cerebro ya fatigada de todo.  Empecé a tomar pastillas y eso solo me hacía dormir y no poder despertar por lo ingerido dosis de 500 miligramos. Pero solo era un momento por que lo mismo seguía y más en las noches hasta que tanto fue desesperante y me fui aflojando yo sola esa pieza y me la pude arrancar pero a veces son otras piezas pero hoy en dia seme inflaman y la encía también pero con lavados y enjuagues se me a ido calmando esa situación. A veces regresa porque no tengo recursos y sufro de carencias.  Hoy en día aquí en los Estados Unidos sigue ese tipo de problema para mucha gente y sigo buscando soluciones. Esto también ocurrió a una persona en el Centro Correccional Florence en Arizona que lo detuvo así y no les prestaron atención y no lo ayudaron lo dejaron a la deriva al grado de quitarse la vida. Corrupción y abusos por esas autoridades de migración y de estar en ese país o en Arizona hasta la fecha hoy en día sigue afectando a todos los migrantes como yo y otros casos más. I am Maria. Full of fear about immigration, it is a very difficult existence. There are lots of barriers to overcome-- especially language, and finding work and lack of experience in development. People make fun of us for not being familiar with developed systems, and many of the times we feel pressured into using advanced technology. And sometimes misspellings hurt our progress in figuring out what teachers are telling us. I only ask for patience and understanding from this system so that I can continue with my struggle.  I am a woman of extremes. If I set my mind to something, I will do whatever it takes and I, as a migrant, I repeat that we face so many challenges but nothing is impossible to overcome in this situation here. Since the preparation to come from Mexico, the American dream is about continuing forward. But many times the nervousness of immigration and the statutes that exist prevent people from going forward. Also, there are problems trying to get legal papers, people are lied to and robbed of their savings put together for the illusion they will get a document. I could tell you more things-- disrespectful abuses and violent and unimaginable things that you couldn’t understand, way out there in the extremes.  This is my experience about my great pain of gums and teeth that has caused damage to the point of despair. It has caused ear and head pain from being very swollen. My teeth are infected and I have not been able to stop the recurring nightmare of desperate crying for not having resources to care for myself or economic position to solve the situation. I have had a desire to run and shout how desperate the situation is. I need medical attention, but cannot cover those medical expenses so I endure it day and night and natural remedies would not calm the inflammation down. It is as if they drilled into my brain that was already fatigued from everything.  I started to take pills and that only helped me sleep but I was not able to wake up from ingesting 500 milligrams doses. But it was only for a moment the pain would stop because the same continued and more in the nights until I was so desperate I would loosen that piece and I could tear it off, but sometimes there are other spots that hurt. Today my teeth and gums are inflamed but with washes and rinses I have been able to calm the situation. Sometimes it returns because I do not have resources and suffer from shortcomings.  Here in the United States this type of problem continues for many people and I'm still looking for solutions. This has also occurred to a person in the Florence Correctional Center in Arizona who was detained there where they did not give him attention, no one helped him, and they left him to drift to the point of death. Corruption and abuses by those migration authorities in this country or in Arizona to date continues to affect all migrants like me and others.

By: Frankie Hicks My childhood lives in Texas. If you close your eyes, you can probably picture it. Vast, uninterrupted blue sky providing the backdrop for spitting mad preachers and angry white men in camo baseball caps. Being homeschooled, I was isolated among people desperate to isolate themselves, frothing at the mouth to secede from the United States for all the wrong reasons. Lonely among loners, and repressing truths about myself that would have gotten me humiliated, hurt, or worse. At age nine, and 10, and 11, and 12, I knew nothing about the existence of transgender people, much less whatever I was. I just knew there was something dangerous about me.  Eventually, I found words that approximate how I feel, and I carved out a life for myself, but the feeling of danger never went away. Childhood for transgender Texans is getting harder, but, contrary to what they say, politicians are coming after transgender adults, as well – ultimately seeking to eradicate evidence of our existence from public life. The most troubling news lately comes from the state of Kansas, where about 130 transgender adults received personal letters from the state government on February 25th, stating their drivers licenses with the correct gender markers must be surrendered and replaced with documents reflecting one’s sex assigned at birth. The letter explicitly noted “the Legislature did not include a grace period for updating credentials,” a bizarre way of rolling out new rules effectuated by a rushed bill that went into law the day after the letters were sent. Trans people are now forced to somehow get to Kansas’s equivalent of the DMV without driving – as driving without a valid license is a misdemeanor in the state – and pay money to subject themselves to a license with a gender marker incongruent with their identity. The newly-passed law SB 244 effectively makes it illegal to be transgender in Kansas. Transgender Kansans can no longer drive, vote, get a library card, or participate in civic life with the gender marker they fought to acquire. Every time someone trans pulls out their license, they will be outed, inviting unnecessary danger into their daily lives. Tacked onto this law is an anti-trans bathroom ban that includes private businesses on the list of places transgender people must out themselves, forced to choose between entering the bathroom of the sex they were assigned at birth or risk a $1000 fine or misdemeanor. Of course, because of my own reality as a trans person, I know this dilemma all too well. As a minor, I had to use the teacher bathrooms at school once I came out as trans, and as an adult, most often I simply refuse to go to the bathroom in public.  Being transgender, I take an interest in hearing from other trans voices over the disinformation mass media often peddles. It was a trans-led online newspaper that first broke the story from Kansas; and it is from transgender people living in Kansas that I hear at least one person not born in-state but merely residing in it had their license revoked despite never changing their gender marker, only their name. Indeed, at least 4 trans people have had their licenses revoked by the state despite not changing their gender markers at all. People are scared this means the state of Kansas has a “registry” of transgender people living in Kansas and is in the process of combing through it. I grimly remember the very real registry Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton created in 2022 of people who changed both their name and gender marker.  This news troubles me greatly. To write this story, it has taken days of research interspersed with long periods of grief as more horrifying news comes out by the hour. Confronting this gruesome reality is hard. Staring at a blank wall is easy. Between bouts of depression, I did the math on approximately how many people this Kansas law affects. Most outlets reporting on this agree that it’s about 1,800 people forced to surrender their license – but many more will be impacted. The text of the law states that any citizen can sue anyone they think  is trans or using the “wrong” restroom, including any cisgender (i.e. not transgender) person who they deem nonconforming. All of this is meant to scare and intimidate people the government doesn’t want living there. What we are seeing from Kansas and other states is similar to the countrywide struggles undocumented immigrants and green card holders face when they appear at scheduled court hearings – only to be arrested and disappeared. Like trans people choosing which bathroom to use for their safety, immigrants are trapped because they played by the rules. But the rules do not apply to the Powers That Be. Forcing minorities to make impossible choices has been the capital “G” Government’s playbook since its inception.  From these stories, I have felt untold sadness and, yes, fear. But somewhere along the way, I also found a little hope. I learned that there are thousands of trans people in a deeply red state, many of whom are fighting back by joining a lawsuit penned by the ACLU against the Kansas state government. Through experience, I know that, perhaps because of the intense institutional oppression, small communities of like-minded people in red states tend to be tightly bound through shared experiences, and queer life is not as isolating as they want us to believe. I carry the memory of being deeply isolated as a queer youth in Texas, but now as an adult, I wonder how much of my loneliness was self-inflicted or simply out of my control. What society considers “natural” or “normal” is dictated by culture, by in-groups and out-groups, and, vitally, is subject to change. This is what minorities represent: change to the status quo. This is why  I am dangerous. If people can change their gender, that means gender is not an immutable fact, but much looser than the boxes society fits all of us into, thus transgender people specifically are a threat to the Natural Way Of Things. They are more scared of us than we should be of them.  Because of cruel laws like these, we assume life in red states is miserable for those of us who stick out like hitchhikers’ thumbs. Instead, talk to real people, hold their sadness and madness and joy and know that hands that destroy can also create. Bleak situations call for fire and fight, and can give clarity to the oppressed struggling for freedom. Assimilation is not the answer. Solidarity and fighting as one is the solution.