The Dance of the mad dogs… PR 50/50

Dark Visions… my reality. When I was a kid I saw the exorcist. The only part that stood out and stayed with me to help mold my troubled psyche was this scene. The unearthing of the ancient Mesopotamian statue of beelzabub… the beast… or as I call him…shaytaan. In the scene as the cameras focus on this image there are two blood-thirsty and ferocious canines in the foreground fighting to the death, as if the very presence of what this image represented was driving them into the core of true murderous madness. I was moved. All through out my life over and over again, sober and high, I’ve acted on impulses I couldn’t find the origins to that chaged the course of my life’s path in a split second. After months of tolerating with every atoms weight of patience ignorant, arrogant, and pissy-mouthed fake tough guy cell mates in prison, I’d explode and pound on em with a liberating storm of violence that got me put in solitary for long stretches alone… many times. I remember kicking a vice lord in the face and making his head smack a tile wall, knocking him cold out for no other reason then me being jealous of him having a pretty girlfriend who rejected me. My first robbery I was just a 12 yr old who put a knife to the throat of a grown man to steal his gold chain. On and on and on regardless of much therapy or treatment I had, I couldn’t keep from hurting ppl because of my own soul being damaged. I was diagnosed with a type of psychotic disorder and put on SSI because I found I couldn’t function normal socially. Visions of devils and mass homicide while appearing to be such a promising and handsome young man. I didn’t understand myself. All the times ppl test me I see those two dogs in my head fighting and hear them growling… my muscles tense up… my heart speeds up. A couple weeks before I was supposed to get out of Stillwater I was in group and having issues. No one was aware but one man. Seen me muttering to myself and shaking my head. I looked at him… he gave me a disgusted look and without a second lost, I stood up and picked up my chair and smashed it over his head and attacked him like an animal. I’m small ppl.. but I’m very muscular and in a state of mania faster than u can know what to do with. I hate this anger… I hate it. I think of suicide all the time but can’t follow through because my Allah promised me no peace if I follow that road through. Just fire! Islam is the only thing In this world that has saved me. U’ve seen it. No drugs. No booze. No stealing. No violence, no womanizing etc… I’m the most disciplined man ur going to meet around if u only knew. But I can’t get close to ppl and it breaks my heart. I know what u must see but I tell u that u don’t know. I left my whole life behind because without these rules and beliefs I’d be a dead man and many would probably go with me out of pure desperation. So no!… no women. They mssg me and I’m kind, but Even at my worse moment of male loneliness the penalty for such weakness is ever in my mind. I am a functioning lunatic who forces himself to be the best that ur bound to meet… but inside… forever the two dogs dance with spit and bared teeth!…

Published by Pack Redfeather

I am a walking contradiction of traditions some say. An African American and Native American Muslim poet with a personal life history as violently turbulent as a Storm. A visionary from the bottom of life’s social barrel striving to share the hope found in the light of faith through sometimes dark but real poetry. I’m a former member of the Bloods street gang, former serial bank robber, and both federal/state prison convict. I live on my mother’s tribal reservation of the Leech Lake band of Ojibwe in Minnesota.

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