A Poetic & Artistic Tribute to Kalief Browder
Kalief Browder
Winner of AV READERS CHOICE AWARD 2018
Kalief Browder was a young man who committed suicide after spending three years incarcerated on Riker’s Island at 17-years-old without being charged with a crime. He did not commit a crime and suffered from depression as a result of being put into solitary confinement and enduring many painful moments during his imprisonment.
Poet Brad Walrond and artist Shanna T. Melton present a moving tribute to Kalief Browder inspired by investigative reporter Jennifer Gonnerman’s Before The Law published in the New Yorker. The poem will be presented in two installments. Here is the first. Readers who are not familiar with Kalief’s heartbreaking story can learn more from the links at the end of our poetic tribute — there is article written by Kalief on solitary confinement.
Click here for bios on Brad and Shanna.
They Crowned Him
by Brad Walrond
1.
For all Kalief Browder knew he was born of the Virgin Mary
circa 1993 state wrapped him up in swaddlin’ clothes
delivered him down river to momma’s two-story brick house
across the street from the Bronx Zoo
momma nicked his name: Peanut—
tiny hardly fragile took to roast
on concrete playgrounds
asphalt baked slow-brown and street wise
flint by the Bronx River sun
momma nicked his name: Peanut—
tiny hardly fragile took to roast
on concrete playgrounds
asphalt baked slow-brown and street wise
flint by the Bronx River sun
Peanut. by age 6
he was an eight-pack callisthenic
stood up straight and happy
inside his big brother’s shadow.
by sophomore year @ New Day Academy 2010
the year he was took
Peanut developed signature flavors—
smelt his own salts in and out of shell
Teachers tell us he was equal parts
sly : smart : and not too studious.
seem like i—he said—
left home one day went to a party
night fall found me and my boy a blues band
on the road. runnin’
we was arrested May 10th 2010 on 186th
Bronx County four-eight precinct Belmont Section
Charted our regression line
Through Arthur Ave. on our way back to da crib
lights. camera. Action!
da Barrio talent scouts
rolled up on us
put us up on stage
made me take off my cap
gave me a new identity.
Crowned me with too many..
Flash! my whole body
squandered evidence
inside assault and battery
Flip! Teen ager
youth offender
upside down
Negative charge on top:
felony 2nd degree some Body some Where?
say I stole back pack stock full of alleged credit card
digital camera ipod touch $700 dollars
Little bag a Peanuts
sang his Self some Blues
Mr. Charlie! Mr. Charlie!
The bars in this song too heavy
My tenor got no business
playin’ the bass Mr. Charlie!
for this Riker’s Island Band
When can I go home?
When can I go home?
Bronx-County Bookies wear navy blue
jockey their bets on my survival.
Rode me hard often like any good game of chance
in these here Belmont Stakes
May be he done it May be not
May be he win it May be not—
Race don’t run without the horses!
Got my off shore account @ Central Booking
belly buoy full of knots above deck
bus cast anchor over to Riker’s;
One nerve I had left wept!
Innocent! knuckles white as snow
Regardless—
New York City Department of Corrections
gots they own shows to produce
outs yonder on that Middle East River
Gethsemane got 4000 acres of production space
nestled between boroughs of borrowed time
Discovered. a falling star
writ a leading role—
speaking part @ children’s table
never heard the one-line avowal
incarcerated at the back of my throat
i swallowed whole chased Hail Mary
with one everlasting plea:
I am not guilty I am
Not guilty I am
not guilty I
Am not
guilty
God Father!
All Jehovah’s witness
know I am
not!
2.
Kalief Browder’s bail was set @ $10,000
momma knew she could not attend to that asset class
family’s only defense had to be the United States Constitution:
Sixth Amendment guarantees right to a speedy and public trial
Except in the shower
@Robert N. Davoren Center
Department of Corrections
where there are no cameras.
Bronx County Halls of Justice a crematory
Incensed! Law’s best intentions wear sackcloth and ash
6th sense séance 6th Amendment haints
undead tell us in ever more furtive voices :
felony case must be brought to trial within 6 months of arraignment
felony case must be brought to trial within 6 months of arraignment
In da Bronx,
the District Attorney’s office
marks time with sapling stick
etched in Orchard Beach sandstorm
Judge just a Whip
going. through. the motions
state ain’t ready
to try its case
Judge robe
black magic
wand whipped
space-time
adjourned
to black hole
until the next court date
Well! inside
legal limits
of Kalief’s six months of struggle
3 and ½ years perished—built for us
a wailing wall in those 1,110 days—
Three whole Memorial Day WeekEnds
made it to they Resurrection;
Each end of May did not never pass go
would not get out of jail free.
Hope deferred 31 times below the event horizon
800 Nights of Solitude
Get it?
The Law takes practice
Blood sport and wager fill the seats
pay all the bills purchase Yankee Stadium season tickets
flood lights are epic @ this Grand Concourse court jester bazaar
Gethsemane’s Poor ill-afforded circus
transmogrify into currency
every Body else gets paid;
Kalief’s Public Defender earns $75 an hour at least
to crush Peanut into an oil—
make him slow and impermeable;
smooth him like butter into his trouble
make the charges stick:
Guilty. Plea! Please! Goddammit
This. Way. every one goes home happy—eventually
Only. Way. Any one gets delivered from this ectopic pregnancy.
3.
How do you say Desaparecidos?
in a New York Yankee accent
My whole adolescence gutted
All my teen age organs entrail:
friends switch to zone defense
after a while I become
Jurassic trip to the zoo
basket balls leave the paint high dry
video games asphyxiate in haggard air
pockets. stripped. mauled for any all contraband
fine girls and black-light parties
prom night high school graduation
all. disappeared on my very first trip abroad.
In the Middle of that East River
Peanut has no easy allies
repressed canisters of testosterone splay everywhere
The hormone imbalance rots the air
with a latent gang-bang adolescent spunk
C.O. tribunals prefer torture to interrogation.
Alas! There is no peace in Jerusalem for boys like Peanut.
Boys who believe Justice is a whole food
and Truth lives in Zion
They fed him Ramadan
in his teen age sanctuary
God had to tell him:
Solitary has no plea for Freedom
Peanut listened.
Buried—like all the other inmates—
his life’s achievements inside
a white plastic bucket furnished by the state
this jailhouse safety deposit box stayed on his person
worked for him over time
did double triple duty:
interstitial talisman
pillow weapon
accomplice friend
Otherwise! Peanut denied the state
their right to make him invisible
By now C.O.s had to have borne witness
to that scant hopeful stitch woven into Peanut’s brow
a mutant shallow flame hung at the base of his throat
they heard its treble when ever he spoke up on his own behalf
bitter steel reinforced
concrete womb
Difference.
outcast. with indifference.
Insist! Any biblical notion of Justice
be contracted out!
4.
12 foot by 7
Peanut walks the plank
in the Central Punitive Segregation Unit
human cells show no signs of differentiation
the stasis metastasize into a need for palliative care.
on the mainland the Judges play God
state-sponsored motions move like terror
all clocks stop except the one on Peanut’s ticking time bomb
motion after motion accrue for themselves a movement
each successive step an immolation
Plank. left. less and less room for error.
A world of trouble lived heavy hard inside Peanut’s head
crushed his whole heart into a cell
until he craved nothing but the cross
had. to. Be. nothing! but the Blood for me
impetuous land of milk and honey Promised
the guileless find rest in eternity
Going Up Yonder Innocent!
will be a longer word than Infinity
5.
Were you there? When they crucified my Lord
Were you there? What if I told you grandiose delusion
is narrative non-fiction in our Universe.
They shoot stars like me
no body doubles
graphic novels grow palate
for animation
all my stunts. are. real. magic.
When I told the doctors @ Harlem Hospital’s mental health unit:
I am Jesus Christ!
I told them the Truth!
I over threw the money-changers table
because they peoples was watching me
on my brand new 27” flat screen TV
I wonder. if my ‘acting’ ‘out’ be worth they trouble?
had i trashed an older model box TV
Did you see? the video up on the New Yorker website
Didn’t nobody believe me!
when I was pitchin’ my stories.
had no abstract on hand
I took them to da spot
word for word blow by blow
still for still the money-changers thought
my story board had a special flare for the dramatic
Please! Beat! Me! Peanut cried
Body blows make me feel the Jesus in my marrow
He. Helped. Me.
Endure the cast away pupil I become
when they look at me
Look! I am bleeding now
from every pore right here in Gethsemane
what else? Have I to believe.
Jesus become my only theory for Being.
Didn’t He? save the whole world with his story
what if? they woulda caught the Resurrection on video
How many more would believe?
Mr. Charlie! Mr. Charlie!
Beat! Me! until I am blue just like you
Peanut cried his self to sleep 1000 times
hungry with the weight of withheld rations
so many subtractions add up after a while
Down this Villa de la Rosa
Hades won trespass to Paradise
cuffs and hands turn bruise into sorrow
the cadres of toy soldiers
throngs of brown boys come over
with they own troubles
Confess! They confess they sins to me!
see the spittle on my face!
Pontius Pilate let them all have their way with me
until my whole body was a cross I could not bear
the help i begged earned me vinegar for my trouble
internal bleeding be damned They
would not give me the emergency dilation and curettage
- needed. they. all. just sent me back
to my 800 day ectopic pregnancy.
Kalief’s blood boiled over
six times in side Gethsemane
strange thing: infinity manufactures an opt-out option!
Kalief pulled his six times in side that Riker Island Well
He. fashioned himself a bed sheet lasso
Tied it to the only light he could find
Roped it round his trouble
lamb go good with Peanuts
sacrifice is for the living
me? I goes back to my New Day Academy in Heaven
6.
After 961 days Kalief’s 8th judge
that last wonder of the world
Judge Patricia M. Dimango
made him her lowest offer:
plea guilty—she said—to two misdemeanors
go home right now with time served.
my final offer! only time i swore:
tell the truth the whole truth so help me God!
Up against 15 years I will make trial my error!
Only plea I have is Heaven and bound
up in a calcified will home sick with trauma
I will not abdicate the only throne I’ve been given
Jesus survived because he believed
others could never keep his secrets
I will abstain from false confession
Nothing else! Let the whole world know Peanut stayed true
saw my black wrist bleed out
white plastic bucket is all I have left
who? am i to resist its surgical ambitions
according to Bronx County Law
embryos are not babies
black brown teen agers are turtles
best they stay in they shell and crack
Put the sharpest edge on my bucket list
we will slash my wrist
before I gash my tongue
cross my own conscience
7.
I seen Peanut on TV.
Seen him in a five minute clip with Marc Lamont Hill
that little bag a Peanut made a guest appearance—how ever so briefly—
in that Interview with his new lawyer Paul Prestia
Oh! He’s on it! New Mister Lawyer man ain’t he?
Kalief gon’ get his Self some money.
saw Peanut’s cheeks sit up high for just a breath
blush with evidence Peanut was still in there somewhere
wow! such an easy smile
light and open like hearts
of mother-loved boys.
smiles do not always speak of happiness
lips part. teeth flash. Confess
struggle tongue can not yet twist into words
stowed bruise sits on bleeding stool
some pains do not flush well behind closed doors
A Holocaust is present and unaccounted for
Kalief had stumbled upon the sins of the whole wide world
in between boroughs he still had to tread water
weight full of fisticuffs against his skull
He tried God knows he tried!
balance infarct against percussion
squared off wild inside his head
won’t you? Peanut
support your wildest ambition
suicidal ideation con and cuss
the Hollywood hopes of Rosie O’Donnell and Jay Z!
Thank you Rosie! Thank you Jiiga and Hova! For trying
Alas! even in 2015 [CELEBRITY] is not a panacea
My end of days was a regression
Each independent variable depends
my day be a round-trip back to momma’s
two-story house on 186th street
Home. From school
Home. From the job
Home. From meetings with New Yorker reporter
Home. From class @Bronx Community College
Home. From Hufffingpost.com interview
Back. Home. become a room inside my head
smell of mommy’s homemade rice and chili
remembers itself as a trauma
you know how good food smell
when you can’t get any?
State had to rest its case
Let me go free
No Justice
No trial
No peace
Emptied me
full of no sense
a heart entombed
flailing at sea
far from purpose
All that time in Gethsemane
for this?
My life. A Well!
I already knew
what that was
Had to think prospectively
I am the Resurrection And the Life
See after I’m gone
They will tell my story
Holy Ghost will not leave you
Alone! in Solitary
I am the last prophet to a nation
at Mass Incarceration
No grave shall hold my body down.
truth. here. lies.
my body broken for you
Peanut rested his case June 7, 2015
Lost his cool cast anchor off A.C. wire
momma momma tell Mary not to weep
We finally mades it out Gethsemane: Alive!
Jehovah’s witness will rise with the ashes
Salvation cometh momma
to all those who dare to believe in Me!
© 2015 Poem by Brad Walrond, Art by Shanna T. Melton.
Wow. Such a supreme injustice. Thank you for shedding light on this oft-ignored matters. Reading this young man’s life through this piece was moving, thought provokingly heartbreaking. My condolences to the family.
I love your work Brad and like to read your posts and commentary on social media. Keep writing!
I loved this epic masterpiece!!
Such a powerful poem!!
A powerful piece that brings attention to a very tragic situation.
thank. you. brother.
Africans in the diaspora share a common thread interwoven with oppression, poverty, racial injustice and intolerance. I hope someday our young men and women will have a brighter future free from the struggles we have to endure so long after slavery, Jim Crow, the Civil Rights era, and a resurgent White nationalist construct.