I'll bet you a nickel, yup a whole five cent, that you can't even articulate it so that someone on this website will want to make it your reality.I've noticed a trend lots of posting, but not a lot of interaction.With the exception of arguing aboutWho's the 'N' word, What's the 'N' word, You's the 'N' word, Not the 'N' word.You can get with this or you can get with that (repeat 'til cows come home)And you can't beat that with a Ballistic Anti Terrorist Treaty or contractI was pissed off when the National Association for the Advancement for Certain Pimps / Colored Preachers came to Detroit and buried the word "Nigger" in effigy.I'd have been cool with it being laid to rest by the river, but could the niggahs have killed it first? And why such a big and pompous funeral procession? Children in the hood don't get care like that. Why must you be a celebrity in order to garner so much attention. It kind of justifies becoming an obnoxious menace to your society. And it doesn't really matter how bad the things you do are if there only on a small scale. People are going to dress up and concoct elaborate lies about how wonderful, generous, loving and what a great sense of humor you had, just for five minutes to rock the microphone at your memorial service anyway. It's like being in "For Whom the Bell Tolls", Poor Nigger buried alive in Detroit of all places and can't nobody here Nigger shouting, cause everybody is calling everybody else by it's name.I've the Gaul to go clicking these words out in plain view, because only two or three of you are going to read them. While the rest of the people, just posting things hoping that they'll recruit apt pupils, their own little romantic warriors and suicidal terror squads, lobbyists for the reinstatement of USDA Food Coupons as the official local scrip for slums, ghettos, barrios and trailer parks and a congressional act to make the President write an executive order that grants ownership with full benefit packages of whatever business desired by any person of color who feels it their right to demand reparations in the form of a Bentley a Mc Mansion and lifetime supply of Nike (missiles or sneakers) or similar desirable objects, unilateral ratification of the "Cause I Said So Act" command of language law, that enforces a black person's right to apply deadly force when corrected for using any one word of choice out of context, when the receiver, should implicitly under/over stand the emotive meaning of expressed statement. In addition "The Right to Bitch and Moan Act" should be passed into Federal law effective immediately. Granting every resident and citizen that can claim to be the descendant of or victim of any popularly recognized atrocity the right to complain infinitely for no reason other than to vent and with no responsibilty to suggest any practical solution or resolution that may bring comfort from their disease. And furthermore play clothes, play things and play time shall be promptly discontinued at the moment any party shall decide that "You Grown! and needs to start paying for your own shit." In closing we shall bring to law two key actions, "The 2000 Now, Adore Me or Die ruling and the Criminal Acts Justification Atomic Hold Card laws.
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I
not!
spoken word poet
James Earl Jones: spoken word poet in "The River Niger"
Failed rappers are spoken word poets
My son: spoken word poet
Eminem: spoken word poet
Bono: spoken word poet
Bob Dylan: spoken word poet
Khari Turner: spoken word poet
Reggie Gibson: spoken word poet
Da' Boogie Man: spoken word poet
Common: Spoken word poet
Sonya Sanchez: Spoken word poet
Jessica "Care" Moore: spoken word poet
Aurora Harris: spoken word poet and then...
Kowtowing to my sensei
defending old cyphers
Ronin (w)right Haiku
eye piece keep alley apple
crack skulls 3rd aye seas
Morpheus cried "They killed Cornbread"
Cornell over-stood "The Matrix" twice
Me bum
Like Jesus and Siddhartha
Muhammad and Quai Chang Kane
slipped up had sum pieces of
chain ganged graffiti
written on bathroom stalls published by universities
academics read
Only 10 kinds of folk
Brilliant and everyone else
pens battle rap dins.
I just like to write
Open love letter to Vespucci's bitch
I know you hate loving dick
Never a kind word wrtten
wear big truck, drive heavy make up and sag
to compensate for believing only dead and mythical
men rise to your realistic expectations of Daddy
who failed to fuck you proper when you were
Electra and your king gave permission
Stewie, I see you preying on your plot to kill mom
Praying for her dead god to send you pictures of dead men
So you fuck them in passionate drunks
scream "Daddy" and "Jesus"
shout "Fuck you". while drunk with passion
Shout "Glory" in ecstatic crowds
erecting phallic monuments to his passing in
necropolis of your faith
I am not a cop pretending to be a drug dealer
You- You -You have the right to remain
right where you are
I'll move like churches
swim like schools of thought
cluster like nova in scrap yard
gone no-where and
never leave your mind
because your always tourists and they're always foreign
bore like Black and Decker
as elemental as Hummers
aitch tue eau d vie
Oh my goodness
3 fifths
2 pints
double shot
and you're still only half a man
It's all in the mind Baby
no matter how you feel
love you make has no physical evidence
Back in Manhattan even Oppenheimer knew
if you love something write
make your love free
unfortunately he loved numbers more
than pussy
I Hover in Mandalas euphemisms for Spanish circles
waiting for you to learn how not to disturb sand pictures
that BTW we're gonna destroy when we finish
I reign dew points in basement parties all night
this fore days for day four daze in your mourning
panties' where-abouts yesterday morning
still making pipes sweat
since before word was an idea
makes sense
of Sunday's fucker's perceptions of your person
tactile verbal past tense perfect
dymaxion concept
feel what I'm not saying?
fuck performance
I go silent and take air out rooms
thoughts so strong you feel assaulted
arena is mine
I don't compete!
Put the book between them and your stick when you beat them
leave no visible mark
There they go
again
running like Kiwi
squawking "I believe I can fly"
again
Cliff diving like Legion's pigs
shouting "Free at last"
again
Reverend Kelly stands at playground gates
preying "I will be your father figure Put your tiny hand in mine I will be your preacher teacher Anything you have in mind"
I yell run!
Every breath you take
is a stalker song
Again
Every breath you take
is not a love song
Oh Sundae
Bloody
Sundae
Again
just because I say
"You can get it"
does not grant you the ability to keep it
If you don't listen to the words
again
just lovin' the beat
whips &
chains
again
I ask you
are two black eyes sufficient warning
and again
for stale bread
tracking cookies and
dry cake
thrown to the cheap seats
your children are redeemed
in baker's dozens
again
Whew! You JUST like Kundun. I met his ass twice (once, in Ithaca, NY--which has the largest monastery in the US) and again in Miami when he spoke at Florida International University). One thing about this guy is that you cannot be around him without seeing things differently; he transforms your consciousness, and of course you can't tell him he does that to you because he gets jumpy about it (I can feel you getting snarky somewhere as you read me saying how I admire your consciousness, Ulysses, and I know you will say something snarky back to me because of course, as CLR said, "nobody who is smart wants to be told that because he knows all the ways he is not so smart--if he knows himself" Well, Kundun shys away from complements).
But that's not really why you remind me of him. Really its because he has a very nasty bite, and people don't even recognize that he's bitten them--very deadly subtle humor and gentle mockery that builds and builds until suddenly you feel it. He's the "Dali Lama" but he very much disapproves of stupid human tricks. VERY much, and he expresses his disapproval in very much the way you do--sarcasm and irony, which says 'I respect you enough to think you'll get what I'm saying to you.'
So, I 'overstand', Ulysses. At least I think I do. We are very self absorbed, we BlacklistPub bloggers, and we like it that way. And you're right: way too much talking and not enough communication.
Ulysses > Rayfield A. WallerApril 28, 2009 at 2:06am
I feel comfortable, like being in the presence of a teacher, sensei that will kick my butt when they must, but won't let someone bigger than me just beat me to a pulp because they can or let me use the newest trick in my bag, just for the sake of beating up on someone else.
I feel honored to follow some rules. Etiquette may not be one of them, but there are some that know I've been taught.
You know, they laid a ton of stuff on that brother's shoulders and somehow he manages to stay fascinated and optimist about all life. I read that in some of your words. You can document the pain and abuse that every one of us is experiencing and still keep a main gauche of hope up your sleeve.
Those complements are tricky sometimes, because people start expecting you to live up to some expectations.
Thank you
I have something to share with you.
================= Real Life
Reposted without permission
Dear Detroiters,
This is a love letter. I love the "D'"! Not with a 'schoolgirl-ignore the social problems' kind of love. I love Detroit with a grown woman, 'I-live-work-play,pay taxes, and vote here, kind of love. I love Detroit with an "I'm doing my part to help the children" kind of love. My relationship with the city is difficult at times, the "D" moves too fast me and at times it moves too slow. Nevertheless, it is moving! So, despite my capability to take flight and share my professional skills elsewhere, I remain a citizen of Detroit.
Here's why:
I am a humanitarian. I love people. When I left for college, I wanted nothing more that to go to college and something to bring back to my community...and escape my mother's strict rules. I wanted to come back armed with the knowledge necessary to help improve lives of children in Detroit. I pursued my education, returned to the city and started working. The resilience of my youthful optimism was soon tested.
I've wanted to leave Detroit on a few occasions. I wanted to leave because after graduate school, every job I really wanted said I needed more experience. I wanted to leave because on the social scene people kept asking me what high school I went to? At the age of 23, I earned a graduate degree from the University of Michigan. I had moved beyond the powder blue and burgundy I rocked at Mumford High School. I mean, with no shame I say, "Go Mustangs", but expected more sophisticated and savvy questions. I wanted to leave and return south where the weather was warm and the professionals partied without pretension. I've wanted to leave Detroit because the citizens of this community think it is the Mayor's and the City Council's responsibility to live and breathe for them. Yes, you must be able to pass a drug test!!! Well said Mayor Kilpatrick.
Nevertheless, every single time my mind was made up and my resume was up-dated, there was a new restaurant, new store, renovation, or development popping up. The first time I tried to leave, I was hipped to Jambolayah (now named Flo) fly, unique gear at reasonable prices. Then it was Tulani Rose unique body products and home fragrance. Finally, Detroit got fresh and sweet with me...Avalon Bakery has the best oatmeal raisin cookies I've ever had in my life! Detroit and I have been inseparable ever since!
Detroit is the vortex of great change and development! Every day, I am finding out about something new from downtown the hood. Tell me, you have seen the swan boat rides at Belle Isle, right? And though it's inconvenient, Thank God for Dodge the Lodge! If you don't see the positive change you want in Detroit...how about creating it?
Welcome to City Talk, fellow Detroiters, the change we want to see...a magazine focused on the positive aspects of the "D"!
With Love, Kamilah Omari
==========
Kamilah S Omari
at 12:18am April 28
I'm going to get you! Lol...but this looks like some of the edits I made aren't here. Thanks for real though bro, this day is still so good!!!
===========
That snarky thing ahh! Well, you know. We have really mean spirited people with creds and titles and nice cars and stuff that like to make other people feel bad about being happy or passionate about something out of their norm. I like to shoot people with rubber bands, but first I like to see them flinch. You should see me and my kids when we go visit their great grandmother and my mom. She's so good at defending our bad behavior. "Alright little reggins! Now when you finish horse playin', you can snap beans for dinner". Never seen three grown people "Yes Ma'am so fast."
I'm telling you that there are people out here, in every shape, every age and every color in that box of crayons we all hide.
I won't treat this like I treat most kindnesses, by ducking, but I will gratefully accept and do my damnedest to hold up people who are unafraid to hear the many sides of our collective story and refuses to quit striving and sharing their truths.
https://theblacklist.net/
Replies
I
not!
spoken word poet
James Earl Jones: spoken word poet in "The River Niger"
Failed rappers are spoken word poets
My son: spoken word poet
Eminem: spoken word poet
Bono: spoken word poet
Bob Dylan: spoken word poet
Khari Turner: spoken word poet
Reggie Gibson: spoken word poet
Da' Boogie Man: spoken word poet
Common: Spoken word poet
Sonya Sanchez: Spoken word poet
Jessica "Care" Moore: spoken word poet
Aurora Harris: spoken word poet and then...
Kowtowing to my sensei
defending old cyphers
Ronin (w)right Haiku
eye piece keep alley apple
crack skulls 3rd aye seas
Morpheus cried "They killed Cornbread"
Cornell over-stood "The Matrix" twice
Me bum
Like Jesus and Siddhartha
Muhammad and Quai Chang Kane
slipped up had sum pieces of
chain ganged graffiti
written on bathroom stalls published by universities
academics read
Only 10 kinds of folk
Brilliant and everyone else
pens battle rap dins.
I just like to write
Open love letter to Vespucci's bitch
I know you hate loving dick
Never a kind word wrtten
wear big truck, drive heavy make up and sag
to compensate for believing only dead and mythical
men rise to your realistic expectations of Daddy
who failed to fuck you proper when you were
Electra and your king gave permission
Stewie, I see you preying on your plot to kill mom
Praying for her dead god to send you pictures of dead men
So you fuck them in passionate drunks
scream "Daddy" and "Jesus"
shout "Fuck you". while drunk with passion
Shout "Glory" in ecstatic crowds
erecting phallic monuments to his passing in
necropolis of your faith
I am not a cop pretending to be a drug dealer
You- You -You have the right to remain
right where you are
I'll move like churches
swim like schools of thought
cluster like nova in scrap yard
gone no-where and
never leave your mind
because your always tourists and they're always foreign
bore like Black and Decker
as elemental as Hummers
aitch tue eau d vie
Oh my goodness
3 fifths
2 pints
double shot
and you're still only half a man
It's all in the mind Baby
no matter how you feel
love you make has no physical evidence
Back in Manhattan even Oppenheimer knew
if you love something write
make your love free
unfortunately he loved numbers more
than pussy
I Hover in Mandalas euphemisms for Spanish circles
waiting for you to learn how not to disturb sand pictures
that BTW we're gonna destroy when we finish
I reign dew points in basement parties all night
this fore days for day four daze in your mourning
panties' where-abouts yesterday morning
still making pipes sweat
since before word was an idea
makes sense
of Sunday's fucker's perceptions of your person
tactile verbal past tense perfect
dymaxion concept
feel what I'm not saying?
fuck performance
I go silent and take air out rooms
thoughts so strong you feel assaulted
arena is mine
I don't compete!
Put the book between them and your stick when you beat them
leave no visible mark
There they go
again
running like Kiwi
squawking "I believe I can fly"
again
Cliff diving like Legion's pigs
shouting "Free at last"
again
Reverend Kelly stands at playground gates
preying "I will be your father figure Put your tiny hand in mine I will be your preacher teacher Anything you have in mind"
I yell run!
Every breath you take
is a stalker song
Again
Every breath you take
is not a love song
Oh Sundae
Bloody
Sundae
Again
just because I say
"You can get it"
does not grant you the ability to keep it
If you don't listen to the words
again
just lovin' the beat
whips &
chains
again
I ask you
are two black eyes sufficient warning
and again
for stale bread
tracking cookies and
dry cake
thrown to the cheap seats
your children are redeemed
in baker's dozens
again
But that's not really why you remind me of him. Really its because he has a very nasty bite, and people don't even recognize that he's bitten them--very deadly subtle humor and gentle mockery that builds and builds until suddenly you feel it. He's the "Dali Lama" but he very much disapproves of stupid human tricks. VERY much, and he expresses his disapproval in very much the way you do--sarcasm and irony, which says 'I respect you enough to think you'll get what I'm saying to you.'
So, I 'overstand', Ulysses. At least I think I do. We are very self absorbed, we BlacklistPub bloggers, and we like it that way. And you're right: way too much talking and not enough communication.
Peace
I feel honored to follow some rules. Etiquette may not be one of them, but there are some that know I've been taught.
You know, they laid a ton of stuff on that brother's shoulders and somehow he manages to stay fascinated and optimist about all life. I read that in some of your words. You can document the pain and abuse that every one of us is experiencing and still keep a main gauche of hope up your sleeve.
Those complements are tricky sometimes, because people start expecting you to live up to some expectations.
Thank you
I have something to share with you.
=================
Real Life
Reposted without permission
Dear Detroiters,
This is a love letter. I love the "D'"! Not with a 'schoolgirl-ignore the social problems' kind of love. I love Detroit with a grown woman, 'I-live-work-play,pay taxes, and vote here, kind of love. I love Detroit with an "I'm doing my part to help the children" kind of love. My relationship with the city is difficult at times, the "D" moves too fast me and at times it moves too slow. Nevertheless, it is moving! So, despite my capability to take flight and share my professional skills elsewhere, I remain a citizen of Detroit.
Here's why:
I am a humanitarian. I love people. When I left for college, I wanted nothing more that to go to college and something to bring back to my community...and escape my mother's strict rules. I wanted to come back armed with the knowledge necessary to help improve lives of children in Detroit. I pursued my education, returned to the city and started working. The resilience of my youthful optimism was soon tested.
I've wanted to leave Detroit on a few occasions. I wanted to leave because after graduate school, every job I really wanted said I needed more experience. I wanted to leave because on the social scene people kept asking me what high school I went to? At the age of 23, I earned a graduate degree from the University of Michigan. I had moved beyond the powder blue and burgundy I rocked at Mumford High School. I mean, with no shame I say, "Go Mustangs", but expected more sophisticated and savvy questions. I wanted to leave and return south where the weather was warm and the professionals partied without pretension. I've wanted to leave Detroit because the citizens of this community think it is the Mayor's and the City Council's responsibility to live and breathe for them. Yes, you must be able to pass a drug test!!! Well said Mayor Kilpatrick.
Nevertheless, every single time my mind was made up and my resume was up-dated, there was a new restaurant, new store, renovation, or development popping up. The first time I tried to leave, I was hipped to Jambolayah (now named Flo) fly, unique gear at reasonable prices. Then it was Tulani Rose unique body products and home fragrance. Finally, Detroit got fresh and sweet with me...Avalon Bakery has the best oatmeal raisin cookies I've ever had in my life! Detroit and I have been inseparable ever since!
Detroit is the vortex of great change and development! Every day, I am finding out about something new from downtown the hood. Tell me, you have seen the swan boat rides at Belle Isle, right? And though it's inconvenient, Thank God for Dodge the Lodge! If you don't see the positive change you want in Detroit...how about creating it?
Welcome to City Talk, fellow Detroiters, the change we want to see...a magazine focused on the positive aspects of the "D"!
With Love, Kamilah Omari
==========
Kamilah S Omari
at 12:18am April 28
I'm going to get you! Lol...but this looks like some of the edits I made aren't here. Thanks for real though bro, this day is still so good!!!
===========
That snarky thing ahh! Well, you know. We have really mean spirited people with creds and titles and nice cars and stuff that like to make other people feel bad about being happy or passionate about something out of their norm. I like to shoot people with rubber bands, but first I like to see them flinch. You should see me and my kids when we go visit their great grandmother and my mom. She's so good at defending our bad behavior. "Alright little reggins! Now when you finish horse playin', you can snap beans for dinner". Never seen three grown people "Yes Ma'am so fast."
I'm telling you that there are people out here, in every shape, every age and every color in that box of crayons we all hide.
I won't treat this like I treat most kindnesses, by ducking, but I will gratefully accept and do my damnedest to hold up people who are unafraid to hear the many sides of our collective story and refuses to quit striving and sharing their truths.
And he rocked Cazals
I'm kind of envious
Twice