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A poem

dedicated to victims of lifestyle police everywhere: We'll ransack your home, tear your family apart; Take your children away, and that's just a start. We'll take or destroy everything you hold dear, And leave your heart heavy with anger and fear. Concerned citizens are easily found, Who believe all the lies we've been spreading around; We'll threaten and bully the weak and the poor, Til we get a warrant to knock down your door. We'll swear under oath that the rumors are true, Then be on our way to terrorize you. While others may know us by different names, The m.o. of drug cops is always the same. A battering ram, a percussion grenade, Signal the start of another drug raid; Looking like Nazis, in black riot gear; No police badges or uniforms here; We break and we enter, guns drawn in case You try to protect your family or place. The crimes we commit in our quest to control Are justified means to a glorious goal: A drug-free America, even if we Take away all of your rights to be free. Protections of privacy, gone by the way; Oppression is really a small price to pay For knowing your family is safe and secure From dangerous drugs and their deadly allure. Drugs that are evil, Satan's own kind, Possessing your soul, your heart and your mind. We know it's a lie, but we'll never back down; No matter the cost, we won't be turned around, For we have no courage, no conscience, no heart, To undo the damage done; no place to start. Our make-believe war has become the real thing, With all of the suffering that real wars can bring. Our power is awesome; our brotherhood strong; If you stand against us, you won't stand for long. The fear we instill in your family and friends Will cause them to scatter, like dust in the wind. Violent drug raids put your children in danger; We'll take them away and we'll give them to strangers; Then we'll blame the loss of the ones that you love On evil, illegal, dangerous drugs.
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Hits home for me

I experienced much of what is in your poem at age 7. I am still affected by it everyday.

a poem

Thanks for your comment; I know two 23-year-old brothers and their 19-year-old sister, victims of a violent drug raid when they were much younger, all now in prison -- it could be that they would have ended up there anyway, but they never really had a chance.
My agenda is to see an end to the war and end to the violence; to that end I wish (selfishly, maybe) more people who have experienced it first-hand would speak up -- but then, I was 50 when I got raided the first time; maybe it's easier for me, since I was more angered than scared by the whole thing.

Outstanding ... terrible ... and shockingly true

Wow ... that poem is amazingly good, and terribly frightening -- for me at least.

It evokes my deepest, darkest fears about what it must be like for those who live under the boot of totalitarianism throughout the word . I have lived for periods of time in some totalitarian places ... and it is a terrible hardship on the people who must deal with it every day. I was comparatively lucky: I only dealt with it short-term.

The worst thing though is that I am a citizen of the United States of America. (I am so embarassed, it is hard for me to type the name of my own country sometimes).

The reality this hypocrasy is horrific, and through apathy and fear, "We the People' are imposing it on the whole world, edging towards totalitarianism ourselves. Perhaps we are already there....

I had to read it three times Rita ... and now I must take some time alone, to think about it all.

--Mojo Mellow

a poem

I know what you mean, Mojo; I love to read, but reading (novels, even) about life under Naziism or South Africa under apartheid makes me want to puke. In fact, after my first raid, after a friend of ours was shot to death in another raid, my mom (a WWII veteran) said that she felt like she went sleep in the US and woke up in Nazi Germany.
I graduated high school in 1971 -- the US was by no means perfect then, by it seemed that we were well on the way. My grandchildren, however, will grow up in a police state.
Please feel free to copy, e-mail, print or otherwise share this poem -- I have more.

OKay Rita, it has been a while, but I must share a poem also now

Drug War Rapists

They bus in young men and women, yanked by SWAT teams from home

I lock them in cells — almost never alone

Once the mandatory minimum sentences have thown away the keys,

armed with a truncheon, I club the backs of their knees.

In the dark of the night, new ones are forced to be whores,

deaf to their whimpers … I step past their doors.

Your son's working for me, in that crowd in the sanctum

He's surrounded … beat down … and he bleeds from his rectum.

I've got your sister alone too, separate from the others

trading sex with me for visits through glass with your mother.

Thank your government well — they turn a blind eye

those self-serving politicians, who let these things fly.

But they serve me well too, because they keep me employed:

an endless stream of drug war prisoners — fresh flesh to enjoy.

--Mojo Mellow



Have you submitted your poem elsewhere


Excellent poem which powerfully captures the issues of the drug war, particularly the SWAT style drug raids on small time offenders. Have you submitted this poem for publication in the print media? Also send it to our political leaders. They're not use to getting the picture of the drug war in a poetic format. Your poem is so captivating it should enjoy a wider audience.



I posted it on the Drug Policy Alliance forum and Wierd Harold put it on his website but as I just ended four years of probation, to be perfectly honest, I'm still a little skittish about speaking too freely. I'm working on that, though, and, as I said, feel free to copy, e-mail and otherwise share it yourself -- thanks for the input.

And thanks, mojo, for sharing yours.


Rita im using your poem for a project for my english class. its amazing.

I Thank You!

Im 17 years old and have had to deal with a crack addicted father since i've been 8 the other half he was imprisoned he is a great guy when hes straight but once he tries it again hes neva been the same. Hes a burden to society please dont let him be, lock him up again and throw away the key, I have a brother who is smaller than I and I leave next year with out a goodbye bcuz I cant realize or deal with what I did leaving my brother in such a pit, One he cant get out of cuz of his father and as he gets older the hits will come harder and harder til the day he can leave but its not as soon as me what should i do to help him out to show him that violence isnt what the worlds about. Please help me here is my email address write me back and Ill be impressed [email protected]

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