Viewing entries tagged
truth

more

more

in one wise elder’s lifetime, lives have been programmed to fall for each and every trick never seeing them for what they actually are. some have; many have not. perhaps by choice or simply by design.

but in this time, in this space, downloads disrupt abnormal programming. prompted, i share …

you who are birthed naked into this existence carry within all you are and all you will become. it is imprinted on the strands of your dna. imprinted in, on and over your entire being. naked or clothed changes not who you are and what you are.

attention directed elsewhere keeps you from seeing. ‘liking pretty things’ is merely a balm or salve to soothe the bruises, the aches, the emptiness you’ve accepted as reality. these ‘things’ are lauded as if they contain value. programmed you ‘believe’. the more expensive, the more exclusive.

even in acquisition misery remains and sadness lurks in the shadows.

a garment you put on does not assign power, status. never could. it is an illusion. the skin you’re in, your skin expresses your power. proudly on display so all who encounter you, know. exclusive. entrance is not granted to all. so a distraction had to be constructed to facilitate in programming you to hate your greatness. you arrived here adorned in your greatness.

those who see, notice and nothing further need be said or conveyed. there exists no trigger.

be not perplexed. you’ve done this before. you’ve erected towns where economies boomed, where your systems and your families flourished. you’ve created. you’ve developed. you’ve educated. how could individuals who did the ‘work’, not know how to do the work to benefit themselves? your history did not start on a plantation.

remember.
think.
read.

self-sufficient towns with thriving industries and businesses were destroyed because of jealousy. you’ve always known how to thrive. what happened to those towns? who destroyed them? and more importantly, why? and as a result, what was ushered in next?

you were, are, remain the cog in the wheel. nothing functions unless you do … in all aspects of life.
so in a cotton tee and sweatpants, you are more.
in a bespoke suit crafted by hands as skilled as time, you are more.
you, my loves, elevate everything.

this game is littered with trickery. however, as in life whenever we’re tired of playing any game or when the sands of time flow no more, we stop.

remember …
you, my loves, as you are, are more.

the pen

Comment

the pen

mightier than the sword and deadlier than bullets. swords and bullets maim, kill but also leave behind traceable imagery (evidence) of actual occurrences. visuals which are harder, much harder to finagle. but with the stroke of a pen, written word penetrates deeper than either sword or bullet, proving to be far more impactful, powerful, infectious and devastating. these ink stained markings leave indelible impressions that manipulate thoughts, shape ideologies, and alter perceptions thus creating or recreating stories fashioned and passed along as historical truths further infecting generation after generation.

with this weapon, history can be and is rewritten, daily. the benefit, two-fold: the targeted are left alive so their energy can be redirected and utilized elsewhere. mind and self perception so altered having succumbed to the rewrites, revisions, reprogramming and what flows out of mouths is that which has been absorbed through this subtle, yet deep penetrating act. spoken words betray. ultimately, the targeted becomes a weapon against his own being … his own existence.

this tool, the ultimate weapon is why books were burned, text altered, reading prohibited. it is why libraries were pillaged, artifacts stolen. content and context rewritten to control and construct, and every area of intelligence coupled with curiosity parsed. with each fictitious offering, history is altered in the minds of millions.

cinematic features share in forwarding this agenda.

most no longer speak the truth about themselves. most use the lens through which given and speak that which has been crafted. automatic recitation of the script begins. but these words, no matter who utters them, do not paint an accurate picture. the ingrained narrative that was never our own is delivered, birthing as it flows an old thing. these words, speeches will be recorded, chronicled, published and preserved.

fiction has become accepted fact. fact has become splendid cinematic fiction. yet despite attempts, these things ring and reek of untruth and despair. the truth lives still.

i can never weary asking and answering … do you know who you be? who you have always been? just because you no longer recall and allow others to rewrite and superimpose another image atop your true self does not negate fact.

if we do not tend to this need, our stories will continued to be crafted by the same faces and pens that have painstakingly rewritten our past, attempt to fashion our present and therefore, dictate our future.

talk to elders; visit with ancestors. listen with true ears, with full intention, whole heart. from these, lift up your pen. wield it. write and chronicle the stories shared, and share them. saturate the minds of your own with these words. publish and present to family encouraging them to read, revisit, recall, remember. to change the language.

realization comes from truth. true power resides in knowing. what do you know? pen is indeed mightier than the sword and deadlier than bullets, so write. publish. teach.

Comment

what he said

Comment

what he said

“Peace, peace. Thank you, Debra. Thank you, BET. Thank you Nate Parker, Harry (Belafonte), and Debbie Allen for participating in that.

Before we get into it, I just wanna say … you know, I brought my parents out tonight. I just wanna thank them for being here, for teaching me to focus on comprehension over career. That, uh, they make sure I learn what the schools were afraid to teach us. And also to thank my amazing wife for changing my life.

Now, this award … this is not for me. This is for the real organizers all over the country, the activists, the civil rights attorneys, the struggling parents, the families, the teachers, the students that are realizing that a system built to divide and impoverish and destroy us cannot stand if we do. Alright?

It’s kind of basic mathematics. The more we learn about who we are and how we got here, the more we will mobilize. Now this is also in particular for the black women, in particular, who have spent their lifetimes dedicated to nurturing everyone before themselves. We can and will do better for you. Now, what we have been doing is looking at the data and we know that police somehow manage to deescalate, disarm and not kill white people every day. So what’s gonna happen is we are gonna have equal rights and justice in our own country, or we will restructure their function and ours.

Now … I got more, y’all. Yesterday would’ve been young Tamir Rice’s 14th birthday. So I don’t want to hear anymore about how ‘far we’ve come’ when paid public servants can pull a drive-by on a 12 year old playing alone in a park in broad daylight, killing him on television and then going home to make a sandwich. Tell Rekia Boyd how much better it is to live in 2012 than it is to live in 1612 or 1712. Tell that to Eric Garner. Tell that to Sandra Bland. Tell that to Dorian Hunt

Now the thing is though, all of us in here getting money, that alone isn’t gonna stop this. Alright? Now dedicating our lives to getting money just to give it right back for someone’s brand on our body, when we spent centuries praying with brands on our bodies. And now we pray to get paid for brands on our bodies?

There has been no war that we have not fought and died on the front lines of. There has been no job we haven’t done, there’s no tax they haven’t levied against us and we’ve paid all of them. But freedom is somehow always conditional here. “You’re free,” they keep telling us. “But see, she would’ve been alive if she hadn’t acted so … free.”

Now freedom is always coming in the hereafter. But you know what though, the hereafter is a hustle. We want it now. And let’s get a couple things straight, just a little side note ....

The burden of the brutalized is not to comfort the bystander. That’s not our job. Alright? Stop with all that. If you have a critique for the resistance, for our resistance, then you better have an established record of critique of our oppression. If you have no interests, if you have no interests in equal rights for black people then do not make suggestions for those that do. Sit down.

We’ve been floating this country on credit for centuries, yo. And we’re done watching and waiting while this invention called whiteness uses and abuses us, burying black people out of sight and out of mind while extracting our culture, our dollars, our entertainment, like oil ... black gold. Ghettoizing and demeaning our creations then stealing them. Gentrifying our genius and then trying us on like costumes before discarding our bodies like rinds of strange fruit. The thing is though ... the thing is, that just because we’re magic doesn’t mean we’re not real. Thank you.”

Jesse Williams, BET Humanitarian Award Recipient, 2016.

* * *

This was more than a speech. Much more than scrolling words on a prompter. 

This was a passionate affirmation for the individuals whose voices were snuffed, silenced under the guise of this thing called 'serving and protecting while scared for their lives' spoken by one who is tired of the alarmingly blatant disregard for a people that look like him, the societal injustices, and the political posturing used to excuse or explain away such atrocities ... every single time. 

There was so much Jesse said and so much he did not. And therein lies the brilliance and beauty of his words, spoken and alluded. This moment requires more than applause, more than raised fists, more than amens, preach, and lip service. It requires dissection, comprehension, conscious thought and above all, action. 

I wonder .  .  .  . 

Comment