Meet the Rabbit: Spoon Jackson 🐇

An introduction and poetry reading from Spoon

Rabbits of Realness as a project is united by everyone having met through Spoon, there’s no better place to start this Meet the Rabbits series than with him! If you would like to know Spoon too, he would love a letter.

Here are just a few highlights from Spoon’s long list of projects and accomplishments:

• 2 books: Longer Ago and By Heart, both published by New Village Press

• No Moon album with Nicolas Snyder from FREER Records

• Featured in documentaries, including Spoon by Michka Saal

• He has won four PEN America Prison Writing Awards for his poetry

• Radio & podcast journalist, author, producer, actor, and flutist

Here he is introducing himself in his own words and reading his poem One Foot in Darkness. [Transcript below]

Transcript:

Spoon Jackson: This is Spoon Jackson of Rabbits of Realness. We started it a few years ago, to get realness and creativity and love and magic and growth and appreciation and, sharing with individuals and artists around the world, around the universe, so that we can make this world make the narrative a better place for everyone to live. No discrimination. I know it's a utopia, but we want no discrimination. And no people being hurt just because they're not in power. But words and art and music can lead people to a place that is filled with love.

This is Spoon Jackson, and we have SaraMarie Bottaro and we have Mariah Swartz.

And we have the Rabbit Hole full of incredibly talented people. And we would love for you to subscribe or listen to our YouTubes or come to the rabbit hole or come look at our Instagram and see how we can help you bring your vision to life. Whether it be art, whatever you want to do, we are there and can assist you.

This is Spoon Jackson and this is my piece and I'm writing to introduce myself. It's called One Foot in Darkness and One Foot in Light.

Over the years, I have pondered how intoxicating it would it have been 
to come across some liquid or pills that would do the deed in an instant 
and in harmony with my nature,
But it has seemed like all of my life 
the Gods have never blessed me or shed light on my past, 
and have instead taken me from one prison to another.

For what is an existence of opposites. 
When you are only perceived as or allowed to be in one sphere,
evil with no good. 

Yet even in darkness there is light. 
I think evil and good exist inside all of us, 
one foot in darkness and one foot in light. 

Like Socrates, I was sentenced to death, 
not at the height of my wisdom and awareness, but at the age of 20
I was tried for the death penalty 
and given the other death penalty of life without possibility of parole, 
a slower death, more hideous. 
Because I do suffer death sometimes daily, and it's a living death. 

To keep my opposites alive, 
I decided to live my life as a long journey of death,
inspired by Socrates. 

Once I realized, I was on a journey,
“Know Thyself” and an unexamined life was not worth living. 
Gave me creeds to live by in prison, 
not to examine one's life and self would be like being caught up motionless inside a vortex.
Not living or dying, not hearing feelings, singing, thinking, not touching the inner or outer self. Not anything. 

Perception would be suspended. 
I live inside my journey in philosophy as a poet, writer and create my freedom through transcending not only physical walls but also the walls of hatred and judgments, social, racial and injustice.
Walls that herd black men to slaughter houses like cattle that don't know and feel complete. 
It will be shot in the head. 

I spend my time lost in the mine of memories. 
Moving up and down high rocky cliffs. On lakes that dance on stone. 
Something is happening to me. 
And what is it? A story of clay. 
A poem I know I must write, and topics are endless! 
Yet some things make me not know where to begin. 

I am not burnt out on writing because I am what I write and I'm not what I write.
This moment, I am nothing, I am the chopped off tail of a lizard.
I am the Amazon River with many tributaries, a paradox, a horde of contradiction -- one moment, awakened -- in the next, not existing. 
I'm not a god, monk, shaman or saint, so do not expect miracles, but look for them. 
I did not know why I'm on this planet as opposed to another.

No one else does either. 
Although many have boasted as much speculating they know to the stars to the ground below. 
One moment I'm a proud lion. 
One moment I'm so full of myself I must stick a pin in my ego to set it free. 
I am a poet. 

Then once again I do not know why, how, or what sense it makes to be a poet.
A bard in this land, and time of plastic and metal and these days of little visions and unimaginative dreams. 
With a kiss of wonder and awe. 
Sits on the windowsill like a lone pigeon. 

In the past, when my visions waned, I still wrote poems. 
There is no such thing as a writer's block, 
because the heart, spirit and soul are always singing, even on muddy days.

Perhaps it is my age, why write anything when, for colorful reasons,
It goes nowhere. 
Even in my letter writing, it seems I write and write, and yet nobody hears
The sparrows sip water droplets from a leaky faucet. 
The lack of feeling and knowing is pitted inside me. 

Beyond the dichotomy of being human is having my own shady tree. 
I ponder why I suffer death’s deeds. I ponder why make ripples in any pond? 
I ponder what is the meaning of life, all life, my life. 

It cannot be this feeble blacktop bars, bleachers, chain link, razor fencing, heated wires and soap drying grass against the dark night.
The sweet waters bubble like roll stuff in treetops. 
The dirt, stink, and Newsweek.

SJ: Still there?

SaraMarie Bottaro: Mmmhmm. Thank you so much, Spoon.

SJ: I thought you heard that before. You hadn’t?