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Transcript

Reclamation of Freedom

July 4, 2025

Reclamation of Freedom

July 4, 2025

Rumpty Dumpty and the thugs in DC
passed a bill to steal from the poor
and call it freedom.

They lit fireworks while cutting food stamps.
They waved flags while erasing names.

So no, I didn’t celebrate.
I brewed coffee.
I stirred rice.
I remembered.

This year, I didn’t wear red, white, or blue.
I wore memory.
I wore grief.
I wore the rhythm of ancestors who knew freedom wasn’t something you’re given; it’s something you reclaim.

I published two dispatches this week:

Earth 12: The One That Still Had Recipes

A story about rice, resistance, and remembering how to feed the future.
We didn’t march. We simmered. We seasoned. We served.

Earth 19: The One That Burned the Bill

A story about fire, defiance, and the moment we said no more.
They passed the bill. We passed the flame.

These aren’t just stories.
They’re frequencies.
They’re reclamations.
They’re what freedom sounds like when it’s whispered in kitchens and shouted in the streets.

I didn’t celebrate this year.
I reclaimed it.

Today is July 4, 2025.

We are supposed to celebrate.

But now it’s too late

The knot has been tied

The flag is torn

The flag is tattered

The flag is now soiled

By crooks & liars

I take this torn & tattered flag

To hang along side

The outlawed fireworks

Because ICE remains in tent cities

To attack, arrest, & deport.

I take my country back

Though its battered

Pissed on

Spit on

By crooks & liars

I feel all shattered of sorts

Between grief

Between shock

Between crying

Between sighing

Between screaming

I sigh

I cry

I bid the demons in DC goodbye

Go away

Yesterday

Blow in the lightning strike

Of mass contortions

To throw crooks

Liars & thieves into the far away

Galaxy of black holes

I did not celebrate today

Along my life’s pathway

The flag is tattered & torn

As I look forlorn

To a country run by demons

Go away yesterday

Blow out to the black hole

Far away in another galaxy

To leave us be

In our own time & space

Not to be a waste

But to create,

Think,

Read,

Protest,

Oh, help us please

Mother Mary full of grace

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