“We Forget” a poem by Eric King

Hometown heroes forget we exist within morality

the person shooting up was once someone’s everything

cuddly kids call the president a primate, cause they hate his pigment

not racist if it’s politics just more social biggots

one pump of blood away from being a fleeting memory

once pump and pull away from an unwanted family

villains in our lives aren’t just symbols they’re existing

placing more importance on critical moments

instead of having joy in simply loving

rascal radicals ditching ethics and street battles

rather duplicate love w/bubble gum flavored capsules

loving all life in 8 hour segmants

then rushing off to the bathroom to get in line for seconds

as soon as the crash begins re-up or we’re all dead

every moment sober is a moment to forget

born with so much privilege we’ve forgotten how to live

all our positivity is wrapped with foil in the fridge

road splits to decency but we’ll never cross that bridge

can’t fight the state when our hands shake too much to make a fist

one more bump to get us going + we’ll swear life is bliss

creating all our drama so we created this

to be happy in this moment to recall what love is

“Battle Tested” poem by Eric King

This poem was written in solidarity with the Baltimore rebels

They couldn’t take the heat

egos as fragile as their power structure

bones break, convictions never

they think the lions been put down

more thorn in the paw

they strike what they fear

murderers and brutes, for our safety

our skulls are crunched

you are not the victim

you are a revolutionary

battle tested joining good company

confused pig bastards

forgot that you’re the shark

and the blood is in the water

their violence validates further

the struggle that forces the beast

to view its true self

reflections of hatred and spite

battle tested, keep holding that mirror

A Word From Eric G. King 12/12/14

“I endure my sorrows with my convictions which are stronger than all of this human vileness.” That quote by revolutionary Spaniard Durruti sums up my current existence. Prison is a disgusting place meant to destroy hope and facilitate despair. Thankfully I find myself comforted knowing that to be a fighter is to suffer the consequences of revolutionary action, and to cowar as soon as things begin to suffer is to lose track of what matters most. There is no shame in being locked down for my alleged crimes. The state at every level has been complicit to the destruction of the poor working class both at home and abroad. American workers have forgotten that their time is precious, their labour glorious. So long have wages and benefits been cut, so long have the lower class been villonized that many forget that they are not “soon to be millionaires” but rather horribly exploited. Classism in the states is manifested by the rich and drilled into all of our brains until instead of disgust against a society that allows its brothers and sisters to toil for 7 an hour, we have disgust for the people doing those jobs! How backwards.

My life goal even back to the early priestly days has been to fight for the poor and exploited: both by fighting against classism, racism, sexism and all oppression. I have witnessed the state at the highest federal level down to the lowest meaningless commission act in compliance with corporate desires against humans, nonhuman animals and the environment. To ignore these actions is to put your own boot on the throat of the oppressed. So I await my trial for allegedly fighting against that which has always and will always use its tools to silence dissent and manipulate the masses. To fight against this government is to do the most honorable thing a human can do, to sacrifice what you can, when you can.

I stand behind the comrades in Ferguson, that they may accomplish the great deed of social revolution over a system of decades old institutionalized bigotry, and with the anti-government protesters in Mexico, standing up against the US backed government ran on violence and corruption. My only regret is that I am not able to join in those battles. For me my fight is on the inside now. Overcoming torturous solitary conditions and stimulation isolation. I take great solidarity from those who have came before me in this struggle and those who continue to show me love and remind me what this fight is for.

Please continue to support the causes that fight for dignity and empowerment of the oppressed and exploited over profit. Please support those who saw injustice and could no longer continue to struggle in a non-confrontational form, whose hearts had seen enough suffering to have to defend and lash out in the only ways they knew how. Thank you to everyone who has sent a letter, funds, books, posted on a website or shown support in anyway. Times like these you find out who your real friends are and what love really means. My spirit wont weaken, 20 years or 1 year, I will continue to give all I have for the liberation movement I cherish more than life. No gods, no masters, no justice, no peace!

Keep up the fight,
in deepest solidarity
Eric King (A) (///) (V)
NO STEPS BACK!