Smoke and Fire

Written In Support of the Heroic Cop City Rebels

By Anarchist Prisoner Sean Swain

The world stares in paralyzed bewilderment
unable to discern the meaning of a powerful message
written in the medium of smoke and fire…
no one can seem to grasp it
such messages written in smoke and fire
so often etched upon the bodies and lives
of the powerless
composed by police and soldiers
presidents and corporate executives…
this language of smoke and fire seems foreign
when uttered by the rabble, the forgotten,
the invisible,
those struggling to be free.

What a strange occurrence
this language of power so eloquently sung
by the powerless.

Those in power burned the past
put blazing torches to the world of the First Peoples
to drive them to their doom
Those in power burn the future
doused in gasoline

But today, the world watches, unblinking,
our faces painted orange by the beautiful conflagration
staring back from the screens,
and we witness an idol of the powerful turned to ashes
We see the death machine,
so confident and glorious just yesterday,
smolder as it begins to grind to a sad, belching, blackened halt.

Not all of us are deaf to the rebel warriors’ declarations
We hear their song of smoke and fire
as clearly as those in power can hear it
and while the powerful cry tears of rage and indignation,
the rabble, the forgotten, the invisible,
those struggling to be free–
we cry tears of joy
in knowing that a new world has arrived.

Fate says to our rebel warrior,
“A great and deadly firestorm is coming.”
Our rebel warrior says to Fate,
“I AM the firestorm.”
Children, elders, loved ones,
everyone struggling to be free,
I urge you, I implore you,
I beg you– be the firestorm.
Be the firestorm.
***