Prison Radio
Izell Robinson

This is Izell Robinson, formerly known as Inmate Number 210006. And it’s a man confined within the quadrilaterals of systemic injustice fighting to be heard. But in order to be heard, I need you, the listeners, to hear me and act. I’m only asking to be heard. Of course, again, I’m still here on a violation at the Minnesota Correctional Facility, Stillwater. Makes no sense that they can lock you up when you haven’t committed a crime, you know, because of something they call a technical violation. But it interrupts one’s life. And I think the system has been playing games with my life, and others as well. I always say, I’m a man with too much potential who’s fell to the pressure of injustice within the system. I’ve been struggling to push visible weight of legalized injustice, which continues to pin me down and hold me back from freedom, humanity, success, and family connection. The sad part is, even with well supported arguments from use of court records, police reports, and medical documents, the court has still refused to even see or consider my innocence.

I have been traumatized by my experiences within the false system of injustice. From the moment I was first arrested, the handcuffs circles were etched in my wrist, painting me forever with this unwarranted and unconsented cold touch. What I’ve continued to postulate is concrete reality that needs a remedy of corrective action. I need the people in authority to make this practical. Therefore, I’m requesting, you know, that my situation be looked into as a pragmatic conviction review. And the only way I can do this is by having people advocate to either Miss Mary Moriarty, the Hennepin County Attorney or to the Attorney General, Mr. Keith Ellison here in Minnesota. But, with that said, I also wanted to do a quick little rap that I wrote.

Tell me what I’m to do when I got these feelings for you? But you don’t know I feel the way that I do. But I know my feelings is true. Too many forgotten seasons, been left bruised veins, hunger pains, mineral stains and teary rains, forecast the fall from my innocent brown eyes realize Jesus wept the same tears I cry, why? Deep waters mirror our feelings inside. This livin’ dusk, where the broken memories reside, crucified, can confide in the mortally flawed, no lower but higher than angels. Oh Lord, how brawl (?) with spirits wrestled my own flesh to trash wicked thoughts that mentally mash fresh wounds of my spiritual duress confess, I guess secrets of still caress. Will God bless this child without his own not knowing home? Always appear in the long bone (?) too early on. Watching the love gone when my heart atones from what was stone. Tell me what am I to do when I got these feelings for you? You don’t know I feel the way that I do. But I know my feelings is true.

These commentaries are recorded by in Prison Radio