Wave of Success | Page 73 – by Vadim Zeland

Perhaps sometimes you feel inspired and on top of the world but then the daily grind brings you back down again. How do you hang on to that feeling that life is a song full of happiness, a celebration? First and foremost, you have to remember how that feels. Keep the sparkle of that feeling of celebration alive and cherish it. Notice your life-changing for the better. Grasp at any straw of joy, look for auspicious signs in everything. Never forget, not even for a moment, that you are following a course in Transurfing, consciously going after your dreams, and that means, shaping your destiny. This alone is enough to give you peace of mind, confidence, and joy, which means that you are being the magical song of happiness in your life. When feeling wonderful becomes a habit, you will find yourself permanently on the crest of a wave of success


Behappy and grateful for everything you have at this moment. This is no empty call to be happy by default. Sometimes when circumstances stack up against you, it is very difficult to be content but from a purely practical point of view, there is simply no benefit in expressing dissatisfaction. Don’t take bad news to heart. If you don’t let it into your heart, you’ll keep it out of your life. Close the door on bad news and open up to good news. It is really important to take note of the smallest sign of positive change and
nurture it carefully. When your relationship with yourself and the world around you is good, a field of harmonious vibration surrounds you, and everything inside it goes well. A positive attitude always leads to creativity and success.

African Feast and Fellowship | by Amadou Hampâté Bâ in Hamkoullel

Do you know why we eat in groups among various African peoples?

Behind this innocuous act, which is the simple act of eating, emerges a whole lesson in knowing how to live and a beautiful initiation that each of us must learn to know.
Everything is education in Africa.

“Keeping your eyes lowered in the presence of adults, especially fathers – that is to say, the father’s uncles and friends – was to learn to control oneself and to resist curiosity.

To eat in front of you was to be content with what you have.

Not speaking meant mastering your language and practicing silence: you have to know where and when to speak.

Not taking a new handful of food before you had finished the previous one was to show moderation.

Holding the rim of the dish with the left hand was a polite gesture, it taught humility.

To avoid rushing for food was to learn patience.

Finally, waiting to receive the meat at the end of the meal and not helping yourself led to controlling your appetite and gluttony ”

How to Find a Spiritual Connection with the Earth | Brotherhood of Sincerity Member

1st, I want good energy from the Sun and the Earth’s core to be with all of us today.

From an human spiritual perspective, the chaotic conditions of our world today have created roots of hate, lust, greed, selfishness, and wars. When we as human beings are disconnected from the energy of the Sun and Earth, we are no longer our true selves.

Our technology today have connected us externally and this is new. Now, we use internet, social media, on-demand television, satellite televisions and the gaming world is exploding during the Covid-19 epidemic.

The domination of today’s news is dominated by the fact that our world is changing in 2020 and we hope and wish that 2021 will be better. The images and the information we consume are about terrorism, racial and economical oppression, domestic and external abuse, social conflicts, and international conjunctive warnings or environmental disasters.

With Determination each and everyone of us can adapt, improve, and change this world for the better. The better means all human race can benefit and thrive together in unison. Collectively we need our God/Buddha/Allah/Christian/Islam/Jainism/Zoroastrianism/Voodoo/Scientology/Mormonism/Hinduism and much more… to get better, be better, and show better…finally to show and secure love.


We need to be in connection with a holistic a larger perspective for the sake of our own survival. Whatever we do, we need to ask ourselves how this is this energy is going to bounce back to us. Will it be negative, positive or will it destroy our geographical sanctuaries? More importantly, how will it affect our planet?

We do not have the answer, but the solution is to learn from the past, work for the present and work hard and intelligently for my, yours, our futures.

Brainwashed (Book) – Pg. 6 | By Tom Burrell

“I tried to deal with it in variety of ways, starting with the idea of fooling “the man” making all believe that I was something other than what “they” said. Some days I tried my best. Other days, I’d just want to give in, accept the lesser status and engage in cynical behavior. Ultimatly, I chose the “fake till you make it” approach, spoofing the public until I was financially secure enough to retire into a category of 40 years old, well after I’d established my marketing firm.

Burrell Communications was touted for mastering the skills of positive commercial propaganda. Perhaps it was because of our techniques required to sell products and influence behavior that certain realities finally clarified and eventually inspired this journey. All I know for sure is, at some point it dawned on me that I was not faking.

I was, indeed as smart, just as brave, just as disciplined, and just as beautiful as what I thought I was pretending to be. The more I learned about the origin of my own issues, which had been festering from the legacy of chattle slavery, the more I was able to see the same wounds of others.

It was then I realized that I, like most Americans, had been Brainwashed.”

Dr. Niambi Carter, PH.D – Our Black Queen Biography

Dr. Niambi Carter earned her Ph.D. in Political Science from Duke University (2007) working primarily in the area of American Politics with a specific focus on Race and Ethnic Politics, Black Politics, Public Opinion, and Political Behavior. Her book, American While Black: African Americans, Immigration, and the Limits of Citizenship (Oxford University Press), investigates  African American public opinion on immigration will be published in 2019. Prof. Carter is also actively involved in other work that examines sanctuary cities, lynching and race in American politics, and the political ideology of African American Republicans. Her work has appeared in the Journal of Politics; Political Psychology; Politics, Groups, and Identities; the Journal of Women, Politics, and Policy; the DuBois Review; Politics and Gender; and many others. She is the recipient of a number of fellowships and awards from organizations such as the Ford Foundation Predoctoral Fellowship, the Consortium for Faculty Diversity Predoctoral Fellowship (Denison University), and the Center for the Study of African American Politics (University of Rochester).  She is a native of Prince George’s County, Maryland.

Book: “Black Ethnics: A Conversation about Race Ethnicity & American Social Science” – by Dr. Niambi Carter, PH.D – This is available for Purchase at

Book Review and her own words:

The steady immigration of black populations from Africa and the Caribbean over the past few decades has fundamentally changed the racial, ethnic, and political landscape in the United States. But how will these “new blacks” behave politically in America? Using an original survey of New York City workers and multiple national data sources, Christina M. Greer explores the political significance of ethnicity for new immigrant and native-born blacks. In an age where racial and ethnic identities intersect, intertwine, and interact in increasingly complex ways, Black Ethnics offers a powerful and rigorous analysis of black politics and coalitions in the post-Civil Rights era.

Transurfing – Declaration Intention | By Vadim Zeland


In order to shape reality effectively, you have to try to control your thoughts and not let them run away with you. It can be a bit of a strain at first but with time, it will become a habit. Don’t do anything just for the sake of it, mindlessly, floating about in an amorphous jelly of uncontrolled thinking. State your declaration of intention; concentrate on your goal. This does not mean that you have to be permanently on maximum alert. Let your thoughts drift as much as they want to, but be conscious that it is happening: “if my mind is wandering, it is because I am allowing it to”. Then, when you need to, return to a state of concentration equally as mindfully.


Usually, the ‘thought mixer’ works by itself. Ideas emerge and fade uncontrollably and thoughts jump from one theme to the next. The mind ‘kicks’ just like a baby. So what’s the lesson in all this? If you want to create your own reality quickly and effectively, train yourself to say your thought forms to yourself, from time to time throughout the day repeating the narrative for what you want to achieve (it is a good idea to keep your main goal constantly ‘in the back of your mind’). By speaking your declaration
aloud, you set the course of your intention. For example, adopt the habit of spending a few minutes each day affirming the following thought: “My brain is fitted with a self-development program. It is constantly developing and perfecting itself. New connections are being made between the left and right hemispheres. Both hemispheres work sharply, coherently and synchronously. I have an incredible mind. Incredible ideas come to me. I think outside of the box. My brain’s reserves are contributing to this work. My brain is ninety percent active. I have a fine intellect and it is becoming more powerful every day. I solve problems easily. My awareness is becoming clearer. Everything is transparent and simple. I understand things clearly and express myself clearly.” You can create similar affirmations of your own and repeat them at a set time, after you take a shower or once you’ve done your workout, etc.
Imagine and it will come into being!

Dutty Boukman Leader of the Haitian Revolution | by Brotherhood of Sincerity

Dutty Boukman (also known as “Boukman Dutty”) died the 7th of November 1791, was an early leader of the Haitian Revolution. Born in Senegambia (Senegal and Gambia). He was captured, enslaved and transported to Jamaica. He eventually ended up in Haiti, where he became a leader of the Maroons and a vodou hougan (priest).

According to some contemporary accounts, Boukman, alongside Cecile Fatiman, a Vodou mambo, presided over the religious ceremony at Bois Caiman, in August 1791, that served as the catalyst to the 1791 slave revolt which is usually considered the beginning of the Haitian Revolution.

Boukman was a key leader of the slave revolt in the Le Cap-Francais region of the north of the colony. He was killed by the French planters and colonial troops on 7 November 1791, just a few months after the beginning of the uprising. The French then publicly displayed Boukman’s head in a attempt to dispel the aura of invincibility that Boukman and cultivated. The fact that French authorities had to do this illustrates the impact. Boukman made on the view of Haitian people during that time.

Titina Ernestina Sila – African Warrior | by Vialble-TV

Tinina Sila was a fighter for the independence of Guinea-Bissau. Janurary 30,1973, the end of her death, is celebrated as National Women’s Day in Guine-Bissau.

Titina joined the very young liberation fighters at the age of 18 and thank to her intelligence and courage, she became a spearhead of the independence movement of Amiclar Cabral.

She was killed in an encounter with the Portuguese military while crossing the Farim River with a group of other guerrillas. She was on her way to the funeral of Amilcar Cabral, the leader of PAIGC guerrillas, who was assassinated days earlier in Conaky (20th of January, 1973). After the events of the Carnation Revolution in Lisbon and the independence of Portuguese Guinea as Replublica de Guine-Bissau in 1974, a monument was erected in her honor near the river Farim where she died and the date is marked as a National Women’s Day also know as “Dia Nacianal de Mulher Guinneense”. in Guinea Bissau.

Numerous places and institutions in Guinea-Bissau are name for Titina Sila, including the home to gorverment ministries and foreign missions. Along with Cabral and Domingos Ramos, she is remembered as the most famous figures of the independence struggle.

Thoughts of You | By Darrell Goldbold

Thoughts of You

This is what I enjoy having to do

Thoughts of you

Being strapped and handcuffed in the love, within the confines of the twilight zone inside of my mind

Where there is nothing but the absoluteness of your sweet fructuous darkness and your adorned glimmering softness

The sweet fructuous darkness, the sugar of your night

The adorned glimmering softness, the warm wet love that compliments the moments of being in love with you, when I am

And when I am not, the lingering creaminess of that aftertaste and after fragrance of your love and its inevitableness envy of your honey

Thoughts of you

And about your love are always as clear to me as wet ice

I can see straight through to your heart that pumps the unshent loving thoughts that you have throughout your pleasurable soul, that only you can give me and make me feel the way that I do about you

Thoughts of you

Mix my emotions

Especially when I am languishing inside of your controlling wave of lotions

I sometimes cannot tell whether I am coming or going into a deep silence of a breathless sleep

A hyperreality if you will but I know this, you are immeasurably mine to keep

Thoughts of you

Keeps me in perspective about your sought-after love and where I wanna be

Because you know how to emphasize with authority about what you got that needs to be cured of by a man desiring and worthy of your happiness period

And I can easily recognize that this truth be told

Thoughts of you

I have them when you are so far away from my heart that I cannot hear yours or feel its zeal

When I reach for your sleeping touch on your pillow and you are not there, but a cold silk whispering sheet tells me she is gone

Also, when I am walking in the pouring rain uptown and stop at the reflection of a red light, look at a pool of water and your significant imagery is not there beside me

Thoughts of you

As thought-provoking as they may be, are just not my suggestive imagination unhinged

But the realism of your fantasy, the serious depth of your inner being and my obsession with your psyche

Causing me to treasure you because it also tells me that I am the only man that you see

I have them when my mind starts wandering knowing that you are less than a moment away from me and my love that is waiting for you

Thoughts of you

Having them seems like its all that I want to do

Sharing our love together, after missing each other for more than a moonlight of night

Because you do it for me like I want to do it for you and there is no easy way to explain that

And all that really matters is having a single candlelight and you

And listening to your thoughts in view of a marble tub laced with fallen red rose petals

Then you saying to me alright

Majicbluerose – © 2020 Darrell Godbold

People US – Land of the Thieves home of the Slaves. | by a White Human

White People Us
Upper Crust
In GOD we rust
Use Jesus to be RACIST
Rob land you trust
Slave Master US
We the Sun
You the dust
Clean our puss
As we rape you with lust

Start a fuss?
Okay, Civil War US
You fight for US
Emancipation Proclamation we don’t give a fuck
You stay stuck 40 acres and a mule
Don’t be a fool
We own the sky, don’t look up
No reparation US
Segregation US
Back in that bus

You want rights?
Find you in the night
Hanging you from a tree
Sister take a picture
Family gathering
But we like the way you sing
We steal your music
You know……what makes you feel free
Off you make more money US
You finny to US
Entertain US
Tell US a fable
Eat at our table?

You brainless
Start a business?
You want to compete?
We the bank
What’d you think?
Ever heard of Black Wall Street?
Burn you church
You nothing worth

Sorry….about Martin Luther King
But look how fast you run
Look at you get airborne
Put you in a uniform
Dam, you BETTER than US
But, don’t forget your still dump plus
We own the team
So we gave you this dream
Nice people US

What!!!!!!!!!?….How are we mean?
We vulture for your culture
Slavery? Oh me, me, me
That was so long ago
Everything was clean
When we set you free
Even gave gun and drugs to your community

Ohhhh….look at the poor kid on crack
Its so sad to be BLACK
But we are not going to help
all we care about is ourselves
White People US
What’s up!!!!!!!!!!

Elect Trump
Invalidate your feelings
I can’t believe you kneeling
I’m in so much disgust
How you do not love a country
About you that does not give a fuck

White People US
It’s ridiculous
On the same bust
We get after school detention
You get years in PRIVATE PRISON
We citation, Brook Turner
White cop paid vacation
Don’t Know how to listen
Afraid to lose our position
Don’t know what is like
Because we are white
People US

Need to wake the fuck up!
We created this racist society
So obviously it is on US
to change it into equality
Fucking Duh!


All of us internationally united standing tall in 8 millions stronge and growing exponentially at Brotherhood of Sincerity are outraged about the murder of another Human Being/Black Person by Minneapolis police officers last week and the continued violent response by police against protestors.

We have to stand together with the victims of murder, marginalization, and repression because of their skin color, financial status, ZIP CODE, and with those who seek justice through protests across our country. We have to say his name: George Floyd!!!!!!

George Floooooooyyyyyyyd!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

George Floyd was a son, a brother, a father, and a friend, a consumer,  a church member, and a loving human being. The police officer who put his knee on George Floyd’s neck and the police officers who stood by and watched didn’t just murder George Floyd, they stole his life. They stole him from his family and his friends, his church and his community, and from his own future.

The murder of George Floyd was the result of international inhumane police brutality that is perpetuated by a culture of white supremacy. What happened to George Floyd was not the result of a bad apple; it was the predictable consequence of a international racist and prejudiced system and culture that has treated Black human beings as the enemy from the beginning.

What happened to George Floyd in Minneapolis is the fruit borne of toxic, hatred, beggin for survival seeds planted on the shores of our country in Jamestown in 1619, when the first enslaved men and women arrived on this continent.

Floyd is the latest in a long list of TRILLIONS names that stretches back to that time and that shore. Some of those names we know — Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, Oscar Grant, Eric Garner, Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, Emmett Till, Martin Luther King, Jr. — most we don’t.

The officers who murdered George Floyd took something major and deep from the  humanity cousioness….the very light that gives air to the Earth-life. 

THEY-OUR current law of the land including the officers stole George Floyd from those who loved him, cared for him, nurtured him, praised him, must be brought to justice. At the same time, we must embark on the more complicated work of delivering justice for all the victims of state sponsored violence and racism.

The future is now! Do not let your light be Stolen for which is your soul. Peace.

Racism & The Price for Owning Everything | by Scoot Woods

The problem is that white people see racism as consious hate, when racism is bigger than that. Racisim is a complex system of social and political levers and pulleys set up generations ago to continue working on the behalf of whites at other people’s expense, whether whites knowlike it or not.

Racisim is an insidious cultural disease. It is so insidious that it doesn’t care if you are a white person who likes black people; its still going to find a way to infect how you deal with people who don’t look like you.

Yes, racisim looks like hate, but hate is just one manifestation. Privilege is another. Access is another. Ignorance is another. Apathy is another. And so on.

So While I agree with people who say no one is born racist, it remains a powerful system that we’re immediately born into. It’s like being born into air: you take it in as soon as you breathe. It’s not a cold that you can get over.

There is no anti-racist certification class. It’s a set of socioeconomic traps and cultural values that are fired up every time we interact with the world. It is a thing you have to keep scooping out of the boat of your life to keep from drowning in it. I know it’s hard work, but it’s the price you pay for owning everything.


Breaking Our Human Light To Prosperity | by Sophia Thakur

We broke to let the light in
Broke to let it out
Broke and waited for the light thing to fill tired skins out
We broke to break and broke to heal
Broke to humble and we broke to build
Broke to take
Broke to give
Broke to forget and broke to fix
From fixing we learned and from learning came life
Came reasons to go and more reasons to try
But more than that, from breaking we know that though we shed, we can always regrow
Always reseed
Always restart
This is the natural Process of a heart

The Hanif Souls | Written by Pseudonym

Though dead I lay naked upon this narrow crest
Marooned from the minds of man, adrift
In this shallow wasteland of emptiness
I’m crowned by the insanity of reason
Lurking in the shadows of greatness I profaned
Forage the woodlands of sagacity and
By ordinances, prohibitions and skin-duty
Wander through streets of savagery
Pondering my sinews failing, muscles weak
My dominion in death, in shadows in seas
Shall find me twisted, ennobled in crux.

A wretch am I hallowed by the winds
That form from the last gasps of saints
Who though young, though innocent cease
By flames of djinn and fearful mean
They will be restless, I tell you they will be restless!
Distinct from those who died in war
Shall come loudly upon my slumber
Twisted as daisies in spring, they shriek
Motioning toward their arrant prey
How glad am I that the dead cannot dream,
These Children of the lion’s peace
Will force a covenant of heroes
From slumber, from decadence, from shadows
To wash their ancestors in the Jordan of liberty.

Cultural Influences on Personality Trait Development | Written by Pseudonym

Cultural Influences on Personality Trait Development

Contemporary personality psychologists have agreed that there are five main aspects of personality that they refer to as the big five personality traits. These personality traits research described as extraversion agreeableness, Openness, conscientiousness, and Neuroticism. These traits are believed to be shared by most people and used today to explain aspects of personality. Personality theorists have attempted to determine the exact number of personality traits for some time. We see the earlier attempts to assess personality traits with Eysenck’s three-factor theory or Cattell’s sixteen personality factors theory. Cattell’s method was complicated and consequently did not jibe well with later theories, further Eysenck did not explore personality as much as it could. Earlier personality theorists’ research brought us to a theory most could agree on, which coalesced into the big five trait theory.

Our personalities are complicated thoughts, feelings, and behaviors that determine our interactions with the environment and the people around us. For decades now, psychologists have worked to understand and simplify personality’s complex interactions and processes. This work is predicated on a belief that most people fit into a category that captures a preference for how they interact with their environment and those in it. Personality psychology using the big five model, are trying to understand the differences in personality traits and create a system to evaluate these traits. The big five models are the dominant theory that explains most of what we consider personality and provides a framework to understand how people’s personalities find expression. Personality aspects such as extraversion, agreeableness, neurotic, contentious, and openness run across cultures. They are a way to see how a person usually approaches their environment and the people they interact with daily life.

African-American Culture

As an African-American, the cultural expression of the big five tends towards Neuroticism. There is an unwritten rule among African-American men that certain emotions are not displayed, and as a consequence of this, emotional editing leads one to neurotic behavior. Black men are not allowed a forum of emotional expression socially. If he struggles against this non-allowance, he is roundly subjected to subtle and sometimes not so subtle demands to retreat into a place of silence, so most do not leave the comfort of their conformity. This retreat to silence is not necessarily the case for African-American women. This denial of human emotion on the part of African-American men becomes a loss of identity integrity, and the black an begins to see himself only in the way others see him. African-American women experience this as a loss identity as well. This loss of identity integrity keeps them from experiencing in full measure any of the other aspects of the big five personality traits, which may have been their personality in its natural state.

Most cannot be genuinely open, conscientious, agreeable, or extroverted because, in this subculture, there is no place for unapproved expressions. Neuroticism quickly becomes a healthy state. Anxiety, fear, anger, frustration, guilt, depression, and loneliness become his psychological ecology, and as a consequence of these unhealthy habits arise. As in all neurotic people, dangerous behaviors, self-medication, and a disconnection from reality follow. We see “Clark, Holt, Wang, Williams, and Schulz (2017) reported that lower levels of Openness to experience, conscientiousness, extraversion, and agreeableness, as well as higher Neuroticism, were associated with higher levels of depressive symptoms in a sample of African American adults. In addition to personality-related variables, social capital and social support related variables impact mental health.” (Clark, Williams, Schulz, Williams, & Holt, 2018). This finding of effects on mental health for African-Americans is very appropriate and coincides with what several African-Americans feel. The cultural effects of the African-Americans environment is also a
product of willingness, is a study of Neuroticism in all in machinations. On the Big Five Personality trait scale, the African-American culture would is rated less open, more neurotic, less extraverted, more agreeable, and less contentious.

Chinese Culture

In examining the Chinese culture to determine how the culture expects individuals to
exhibit the Big Five personality, they have created their version of the test. Their version takes
into account their unique cultural insights; this test is called the Chinese Personality Assessment
Inventory or CPAI. For its relationship to the Big Five personality, we see, “The question that may be raised with the factor structure of the CPAI is whether it may be subsumed under the Big Five structure, which is purported to be universal (McCrae & Costa,1997). The comparison of the CPAI factor structure with the Big Five conducted by investigating the joint factor structure of the CPAI and measures of the Big Five. (CHEUNG, LEUNG, ZHANG, SUN, GAN, SONG, & XIE, 2001). So the CPAI model is comparable to the Big Five trait model. In the CPAI model, we see the measurements of Dependability, Chinese Tradition, Social Potency, and Individualism. The Chinese society has a significance of harmful Openness as predictors of behavior, “Among the Big Five factors, Neuroticism and (negative) Openness were the significant predictors. Also, Harmony and Ren Qing items from the CPAI significantly predicted filial piety even after controlling for the effect of the Big Five dimensions.” (CHEUNG, LEUNG, ZHANG, SUN, GAN, SONG, & XIE, 2001). Openness is a broader concept that considers the ability to be imaginative, to be receptive to different experiences, and to be able to appreciate differences in experiences. Chinese culture seems to be centered more on the obligations that the young owe to the older members of society. We see this concept play out in the culture’s insistence on filial obligations. The culture seems to expect the people to be more traditional and less open to new ideas and ways of doing things, at least from interpersonal relationships. On the Big Five Personality trait scale, the Chinese culture rated as less open, more neurotic, less extraverted, more agreeable, and more contentious.

Expression of Personality

In African-American culture, the Big Five traits displayed are less Openness, more Neuroticism, less extraversion, more agreeableness, and less contentiousness. In Chinese culture, we see less open, more neurotic, less extraverted, more agreeable, and more contentious traits. These traits are expressed differently in each group because of environmental and cultural differences. African-American culture is a product of discrimination, disenfranchisement, and a concerted effort to deny access to the aspects of the broader culture. Also, African-American culture is a sub-culture. The expression of the Big Five personality traits within this community of people who are historically denied access. Chinese culture is homogenous, the dominant culture of the land, and has been able to flourish without the constraints of discrimination and disenfranchisement of a dominant other culture over it. The Chinese culture was able to determine from its own devices which aspects of the Big Five personality traits that suited it best as it worked out historically what the people wanted it to become. The traits it has adopted are the right choice of the people in the culture without external influence. So if the people of the culture have chosen to be less open and more contentious, it has done so as a cultural choice. This information tells us that the Big Five personality traits and the CPAI are a natural outgrowth of the culture and that there must be a culturally compliant utilization of the Big Five trait test to get an accurate understanding of how the people of the culture fit. We see this with filial responsibility, which is not as pronounced in African-American culture. Instead, in African-American culture, we see difficulties surrounding issues of the incarceration of parents, particularly the father. These issues disallow a formation of deep filial identity and the intergroup cohesion we see in Chinese culture. With the lack of the father figure, it becomes difficult to form a true expression of one’s personality because a critical component of the give and take of healthy personality development is gone. The ability to coalesce the personality along genuine, identifiable Big Five personality traits is stunted and left with a frequently artificial clinging to Neuroticism and its constituent behavior patterns. We see this play out here “The plight of Black American males started around three years of age due to issues of incarceration involving parents
or other family members, stereotypes about being Black, and economics affecting the family system, which has led to a crisis due to the lack of higher education and disconnection from mainstream society for many Black American males (Butler et al., 2013).” (Taveras, 2018). As for the inability of black Americans to exhibit a fuller range of Big Five traits we see here issues raised during a focus group interaction “The men provided examples of workplace discrimination, unfair treatment by police, structural racism, and racial residential segregation (Hudson et al., 2016). The researchers expressed that the results showed that some Black men used avoidant strategies by drinking and smoking marijuana. Other Black men used active- coping strategies by seeking social support, spiritual coping, and religious coping.” (Taveras, 2018). The research illustrates the inability of participation in aspects of the Big Five traits for African-Americans and the necessity of an open discussion about the access of expression.


Clark, E. M., Williams, R. M., Schulz, E., Williams, B. R., & Holt, C. L. (2018).
Personality, Social Capital, and Depressive Symptomatology Among African Americans. The
Journal of black psychology, 44(5), 422–449.
CHEUNG, F. M., LEUNG, K., ZHANG, J.-X., SUN, H.-F., GAN, Y.-Q., SONG, W.-Z.,
Factor Model Complete? Journal of Cross-Cultural Psychology, 4.
CHEUNG, F. M., LEUNG, K., ZHANG, J.-X., SUN, H.-F., GAN, Y.-Q., SONG, W.-Z.,
Factor Model Complete? Journal of Cross-Cultural Psychology, 4.
Taveras, O. F. (2018). Can coping strategies predict personality traits of black males?
(Order No. 10846377). Available from ProQuest Central; ProQuest Central; ProQuest
Dissertations & Theses Global. (2099573132). Retrieved from
Taveras, O. F. (2018). Can coping strategies predict personality traits of black males?
(Order No. 10846377). Available from ProQuest Central; ProQuest Central; ProQuest
Dissertations & Theses Global. (2099573132). Retrieved from

The Bill Of Rights: Amendments I, II, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX | Produced by Ricco Slade

I: Religious Establishment prohibited. Freedom of speech, and of press, right to assemble and to petition; Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof, or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press, or the right of the people peaceably to assemble and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

II: Right to keep and bear arms; A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms shall not be infringed. (The African American was considered a slave at this time. This right was established to maintain order and suppress any slave insurrections and rebellions; Convicted felons can not possess firearms.)

IV: Protection from unreasonable search and seizure. The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no Warrants shall issue but upon probable cause, supported by oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized. (Stop & Frisk?) (Search Warrants; Arrest Warrants: again Persons instead of Citizens used. Meant to keep Black Slaves from educating themselves; i.e: papers)

V: Provisions concerning prosecution and due process of law. Compensation of private property taken for public use. No person shall be held to answer for a capital, or otherwise infamous crime, unless on a presentment or indictment of a Grand Jury, except in cases arising in the land or naval forces, or in the Militia,(?) when in actual service in time of War or (Public danger [Slave rebellion or insurrection; right to kill]); nor shall any person be subject for the same offence to be twice put in jeopardy of Life or Limb (Double Jeopardy Clause); nor shall be compelled in any criminal case to be a witness against himself, nor be deprived of Life, Liberty, or Property without due process of law (Plea of The Fifth); nor shall private property be taken for public use, without just compensation.

VI: Rights of accused in criminal prosecutions. In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall enjoy the right to a speedy and public trial, by an impartial jury of the State and district wherein the Crime shall have been committed, which district shall have been previously ascertained by law, and to be informed of the nature and cause of the accusation; to be confronted with the witnesses against him; to have compulsory process for obtaining witnesses in his favor, and to have the Assistance of Counsel for his defense.

VII: Right of trial by jury in civil cases. In suits at common law, where the value in controversy shall exceed twenty dollars, the right of trial by jury shall be preserved, and no fact tried by a jury, shall be otherwise reexamined in any Court of the United States, than according to the rules of the common law.

VIII: Excessive bail or fines; cruel and unusual punishment. Excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishment inflicted. 

IX: Unenumerated Rights. The enumeration in the Constitution, of certain rights, shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the people.

Our African-America Historical Timeline Pt. 1 | Creation by Ricco Slade

1712: Slaves revolted in New York City April 6th; 21 were executed

1739: A series of slave uprisings put down in South Carolina

1741: Slave revolt in New York City again; 13 slaves were hanged, 13 burned, 71 deported

1770: Crispus Attucks was killed on March 5th. Allegedly he was leading a mob against the British. Known as the Boston Massacre.

1774: Rhode Island abolishes slavery.

1783: Massachusetts Supreme Court decision in final Quock Walker trial declared slavery illegal.

1784: Thomas Jefferson’s proposal to ban slavery in new territories after 1802 was narrowly defeated March 1st.

1787: The NorthWest Ordinance, adopted July 13 by Continental Congress for Northwest Territory, north of Ohio River, west of New York; made rules for statehood, and guarenteed freedom of religion, support for schools, and no slavery.

1793: Eli Whitney invented cotton gin, which received its patent in 1794, reviving southern slavery.

1795: U.S. brought peace from Algerian pirates by paying $1 million ransom for 115 seamen September 5th, followed by annual tributes.

1808: Legislation outlawing slave imports goes into effect. Some 250,000 slaves were illegally imported.

1810: The third U.S. Census found a slave population of 1,191,364 and the population of all other non-white free persons at 186,446.

1811: About 400 slaves revolted in Louisiana and marched on New Orleans. The insurrection was suppressed; 2 whites and some 75 slaves were killed.

1816: The American Colonization Society, which sought to address slavery issue by transporting freed blacks to Africa, formed in Washington D.C. December 1816-January 1817.

1820: First organized immigration of blacks to Africa from U.S. began with 86 free blacks sailing to Sierra Leone in February. Henry Clay’s Missouri Compromise bill passed by Congress March 3rd, making slavery allowable in Missouri, but not west of the Mississippi River. (Compromise Repealed 1854)

1822: Liberia is founded on the coast of West Africa by freed Black Slaves from the U.S. who settled at the Capital city Monrovia with the aid of The American Colonization Society.

1824: Slavery abolished in the State of Illinois August 2nd.

1831: William Lloyd Garrison began abolitionist newspaper The Liberator January 1st. Nat Turner, a black slave in Virginia, led a local slave rebellion that began August 21st; 57 whites were killed. Troops were called in. 100 slaves were killed. Turner was captured, tried, and hanged November 11th.

1833: American Anti-Slavery Society founded in Philadelphia, December 4th.

1850: Senator Henry Clay’s Compromise of 1850 admitted California as 31st state September 9th, with slavery forbidden therein. It also made fugitive slave law harsher; and ended District of Columbia’s slave trade.

1852: Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin was published.

1854: Republican Party formed at Ripon, WI, February 28th. Opposed Kansas-Nebraska Act, which left issue of slavery to vote of settlers. Act became law May 30th.

1856: Proslavery group sacked Lawrence, KS, May 21; abolitionist John Brown led antislavery contingent against Missourians at Osawatomie, KS, August 30. Antislavery Republican Party’s first presidential nominee John C. Fremont, defeated by James Buchanan. Abraham Lincoln made 50 speeches for Fremont.

1857: In the Dred Scott case, which involved determination of constitutionality or already-repealed Missouri Compromise, Supreme Court decided March 6th that slaves did not become free in a free state, and blacks were not and could not be citizens.

1858: Lincoln-Douglas debates in Illinois, August 21-October 15.

1859: Abolitionist John Brown, with 21 men, seized U.S. armory at Harper’s Ferry, WV, October 16. U.S. Marines captured raiders, killing several. Brown was hanged for treason December 2.

1860: Republican Abraham Lincoln elected president November 6th in a four-way race.

1861: Seven southern states set up Confederate States of America February 8th, with Jefferson Davis as president. Civil War begins as Confederate troops fired on Fort Sumter in Charleston SC, April 12. By May, 11 states had seceded.

1862: Union forces were victorious in Western campaigns and took New Orleans May 1st. Battles in East were largely inconclusive despite heavy casualties. The Battle of Antietam, in Western Maryland September 17th, was bloodiest one-day battle of war, each side lost more than 2,000 men.

1863: President Lincoln issued Emancipation Proclamation January 1st, freeing all slaves in areas still in rebellion. Union forces won major victory at Gettysburg, PA, July 1st-3rd. About 1,000 were killed in Draft Riots in New York City; some blacks were hanged by mobs July 13th-16th.

1865: General Robert E Lee surrendered 27,800 confederate troops to General Grant at Appomattox Court House in VA, April 9th. J.E. Johnston surrendered 31,200 to Sherman at Durham Station, NC, April 18. President Lincoln was shot April 14th by John Wilkes Booth in Ford’s Theater, Washington D.C., died the following morning. 13th Amendment, abolishing slavery, ratified December 6th.

1866: Congress took control of Southern Reconstruction, backed by freedman’s rights in legislation vetoed by President Andrew Jackson; veto overridden by Congress, April 9th. Ku Klux Klan formed secretly in South to terrorize blacks who voted. Disbanded 1869-1871.

1868: 14th Amendment, providing for citizenship of all persons born or naturalized in U.S. and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, ratified, July 9th.

1870: 15th Amendment, making race no bar to voting rights, ratified February 8th.

1872: Amnesty Act May 22 restored civil rights to citizens of the south, except for 500 confederate leaders.

1875: Congress passed Civil Rights Act March 1st, giving equal rights to blacks in public accommodations and by jury duty. Supreme Court invalidated act in 1883. First Jim Crow segregation law enacted in Tennessee.

1877: Republicans agreed to end federal Reconstruction of South.

1881: Booker T Washington founded Tuskegee Institute for Black Students.

1896: Supreme Court, in Plessy v. Ferguson, May 18, approved racial segregation under the separate but equal doctrine.

1901: Booker T Washington’s Up From Slavery published.

1908: Springfield, Illinois, torn by anti-black rioting August 14th-15th.

1909: National Conference on the Negro convened May 30th, leading to founding of National Association for The Advancement of Colored People (NAACP)

1915: D.W. Griffith’s film The Birth Of A Nation released. William J. Simmons partly inspired by film to revive Ku Klux Klan, which peaks in 1920’s.

1936: Jesse Owens won four gold medals at the Berlin Olympics.

1937: Joe Loius knocked out James J. Braddock to become World Heavyweight Champion June 22nd.

1940: Richard Wright’s Native Son was published.

1941: Four Freedoms- Freedom of Speech and Religion, Freedom from Want and Fear- termed essential by President Roosevelt in speech to Congress January 6th. President Roosevelt signed executive order June 25th barring federal government and war contractors from racial discrimination. Order also established Fair Employment Practice Committee.

1942: U.S. and Britain invaded Northern Africa November 8th.

1943: Detroit race riot, June 21, left 34 dead, 700 injured; 6 killed in riot in New York City’s Harlem section, August 2nd.

1947: Jackie Robinson joined Brooklyn Dodgers April 11th, breaking color barrier in major league baseball.

1952: Last racial and ethnic barriers to naturalization removed, June 26th-27th, with passage of Immigration and Naturalization Act?? (President Harry S. Truman)

1954: Supreme Court ruled unanimously May 17th that racial segregation in public schools was unconstitutional, in Brown v. Board of Education of Topeka.

1955: Supreme Court ordered all deliberate speed in intergration of public schools on May 31st. Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat to a white man on a bus in Montgomery Alabama on December 1st. Her arrest, detention, and conviction sparked a boycott of bus system, organized by Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. and Montgomery’s black community on December 5th. Bus segregation ordinance declared unconstitutional by federal court in 1956. Boycott ended December 23rd 1956.

1956: Massive resistance to Supreme Court desegregation rulings was called for March 12th by 101 southern congressmen. U.S. Supreme Court unanimously ruled against racial segregation on intrastate buses April 23rd.

1957: Congress approved Civil Rights Act of 1957, on April 29th, making it the first such bill passed since the Reconstruction to protect voting rights. President Eisenhower signed act into law September 9th; the act provided for the creation of Civil Rights Commission. On September 4th, Arkansas Governor Orval Faubus, a Democrat, called in National Guardsmen to bar nine black students from entering all-white high school in Little Rock. Faubus complied September 21st with federal court order to remove Guardsmen, but local authorities ordered black students to withdraw. President Eisenhower sent troops into Little Rock on September 24th to enforce court order.

1960: Sit-ins began February 1st when four black college students in Greensboro, North Carolina refused to move from a Woolworth lunch counter after being denied service. By September 1961 more than 70,000 students, whites and blacks, had participated in sit-ins President Eisenhower signed Civil Rights Act on May 6th.

With You | Written by Darrell Godbold


Oh no, I’m not suggesting that I’m about to talk about that one

My mind isn’t in the gutter

Thinking about the insatiable dimensioned width of your hips

I’m talking about the other word with, the preposition

And the love that I have for you that I’m wanting you to see in this unscripted deposition

Please don’t hold me in open contempt of your love because of the way that I’ve elected to approach you and don’t talk to me like that, I’m innocent and guilty of wanting to be with you

You see there’s something about you that accentuated this acute desire within me that’s saying you’re the one that I need to be with

The reasons are still quite unclear, but stay within reach of my heart

Is it the look in your wondrously beautiful eyes that forever surprise?

Is it the way your lips prefigure the depth of the next interlacing kiss that we’ll share together with a passionate intrusion, while it slowly advances with your closed eyes towards my lips?

Could it be the way you forthwith whisper to me sugar saturated thoughts in my ear of things concerning your sensualities other men can only wish they could hear coming from you when they look at you and see me taking deep breaths because I’m closely within the proximity of that alluring perfume you’re wearing?

So much to discern being with you, so much more for my mind to sift

With you I’m filled with the joy of the extenuating circumstances in and around the unconditional love between us

With you there will always be the overanxiety of another tomorrow and the satisfaction of remembering the yesterdays

With you there’s always the contemplation of another walk together along the wet sandy beach shores of the Atlantic Ocean

With you I’ll always see just how true love supposedly turns out

With you making promises to keep you happy will be an intoxicating pleasure to say the least

With you the surrounding emotions of moonlight dreams will never be the same

So, to get to the next one I’ll say goodnight to you my love

With you


© 2020 Darrell Godbold

African American Glossary Of Life Pt. 2 | Author Ricco Slade

Nature: 1a: the inherent character or basic constitution of a person or thing: Essence. 2a: a creative and controlling force in the universe. 2b: an inner force or the sum of such forces in an individual. 3: the external world in its entirety. 4: humankind’s original or natural condition.
Numismatics: the study and collection of coins, tokens, and paper money and sometimes related objects (as medals).
Optimism: 1: a doctrine that this world is the best possible world. 2: an inclination to put the most favorable construction upon actions and events or to anticipate the possible outcome.
Passion: 1: Emotion. 2: the emotions as distinguished from reason. 3: intense, driving, or overmastering feeling or conviction.
Patience: the capacity, habit, or fact of being patient.
Patient: 1: bearing pains or trials calmly or without complaint. 2: manifesting forbearance under provocation or strain. 3: not hasty or impetuous. 4: steadfast despite opposition, difficulty, or adversity.
Peace: 1: a state of tranquility or quiet: as a: freedom from civil disturbance. 1b: a state of security or order within a community provided for by law or custom. 2: freedom from disquieting or oppressive thoughts or emotions. 3: harmony in personal relations. 4: a pact or agreement to end hostilities between those who have been at war or in a state of enmity.
Perfectionism: 1: the doctrine that the perfection of moral character constitutes a person’s highest good. 2: a disposition to regard anything short of perfection as unacceptable.
Persistence: 1: the action or fact of persisting. 2: the quality or state of being persistent.
Persist: 1: to go on resolutely or stubbornly in spite of opposition, importunity, or warning.
Power: 1: ability to act or produce an effect. 2: possession of control, authority, or influence over others. 3: a controlling group. 4: a force of armed men. 5: physical might. 6: mental or moral efficacy.
Prosperity: the condition of being successful or thriving; esp: economic well-being.
Prosper: to succeed in an enterprise or activity; esp: to achieve economic success.
Respect: 1: an act of giving particular attention: Consideration. 2a: high or special regard: Esteem. 2b: the quality or state of being esteemed.
Survival: 1a: the act or fact of living or continuing longer than another person or thing. 1b: the continuation of life or existence.
Survivalism: an attitude, policy, or practice based on the primacy of survival as a value.
Time: 1a: the measured or measurable period during which an action, process, or condition exists or continues: Duration. 1b: a non-spatial continuum that is measured in terms of events which succeed one another from past through present to future. 2: a prison sentence.
Time: 1a: to arrange or set the time of: Schedule. 1b: to regulate (a watch) to keep correct time. 2: to set the tempo, speed, or duration of.
Transition: 1a: passage from one state, stage, subject, or place to another: Change. 1b: a movement, development, or evolution from one form, stage, or style to another.
Transparency: 1: something transparent. 2: the quality of being transparent.
Transparent: 1a: having the property of transmitting light without appreciable scattering so that bodies lying beyond are seen clearly. 1b: fine or sheer enough to be seen through. 2: free from pretense or deceit.
Trustworthiness: (Trustworthy): worthy of confidence: Dependable
Trust: assured reliance on the character, ability, strength, or truth of someone or something.
Wisdom: 1a: accumulated philosophic or scientific learning: Knowledge. 1b: ability to discern inner qualities and relationships: Insight

African American Glossary Of Life Pt. 1 | Author Ricco Slade

  1. Age: a: The time of life at which some particular qualification, power, or capacity arises or rests. b: the length of an existence extending from the beginning to any given time.
  2. Age: (vb) aged; aging. (vi) 1; to become old: show the effects or the characteristics of increasing age. 2; to bring to a state fit for use or to maturity.

Attraction: 1a: the act, process, or power of attracting. 1b: personal charm. 2b: the action or power of drawing forth a response: an attractive quality. 3b: a force acting mutually between particles of matter, tending to draw them together, and resisting their separation. 4: something that attracts or is intended to attract people by appealing to their desires or tastes.

Authenticity: (Authentic) 1: worthy of acceptance or belief as conforming to or based on fact. 2: not false or imitation. 3: true to one’s own personality, spirit, or character.

Bravery: The quality or state of being brave; Brave: having or showing courage.

Courage: mental or moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty.

Compassion: sympathetic consciousness of others’ distress together with a desire to alleviate it.

Competition: 1: the act or process of competing: Rivalry. 2: a contest between rivals.

Compete: to strive consciously or unconsciously for an objective. (as position, profit, or a prize)

1. Control: 1a: to exercise restraining or directing influence over: Regulate. 1b: to have power over: Rule

2. Control: an act or instance of controlling; also: power or authority to guide or manage.

Creation: The act of creating; esp: the act of bringing the world into ordered existence.

Create: to produce or bring about by a course of action or behavior.

Death: a permanent cessation of all vital functions: the end of life.

1. Discipline: 1: training that corrects, molds, or perfects the mental faculties or moral character. 2: control gained by enforcing obedience or order.

2. Discipline: to punish or penalize for the sake of discipline.

Endurance: 1: the ability to withstand hardship or adversity; esp: the ability to sustain a prolonged stressful effort or activity. 2: the act or an instance of enduring or suffering.

Eternity: 1: the quality or state of being eternal. 2: infinite time. 3: the state after death: Immortality

Eternal: having infinite duration: Everlasting

Forgiveness: the act of forgiving.

Forgive: 1: to give up resentment of or claim to requital for. 2: to cease to feel resentment against: Pardon

Gentleness: the quality or state of being gentle; esp: mildness of manners or disposition.

Gratitude: the state of being grateful.

Grateful: appreciative of benefits received.

Harmony: 1: pleasing or congruent arrangement of parts. 2: internal calm: Tranquility

Honesty: 1: fairness and straightforwardness of conduct. 2: adherence to the facts.

Honest: free from fraud or deception: Legitimate, Truthful

Honor: 1: good name or public esteem: Reputation 2: a showing of usu. merited respect: Recognition 3: a person of superior standing

Humanity: 1: the quality or state of being humane. 2: the branches of learning ( as philosophy, arts, or languages) that investigate human constructs and concerns as opposed to natural processes and social relations. 3: the human race: the totality of human beings.

Humanism: a doctrine, attitude, or way of life centered on human interests or values; esp: a philosophy that usu. Rejects super-naturalism and stresses an individuals dignity and worth and capacity for self-realization through reason.

Humanitarian: a person promoting human welfare and social reform.

Independent: 1: not dependent: as (a)(1): not subject to control by others: Self-Governing. 1b:(1): not requiring or relying on something else: not contingent. 1b:(2): not looking to others for one’s opinions or for guidance in conduct. 1c:(1): not requiring or relying on others (as for care or livelihood)

Individualism: 1a:(1): a doctrine that the interests of the individual are or ought to be ethically paramount; also: conduct guided by such doctrine. 1a(2): the conception that all values, rights, and duties originate in individuals. 1b: a theory maintaining the political and economic independence of the individual and stressing individual initiative, action, and interest: conduct or practice guided by such a theory.

Individualist: 1: one that pursues a markedly independent course in thought or action. 2: one that advocates or practices individualism.

Initiative: 1: an introductory step. 2: energy or aptitude displayed in initiation of action: Enterprise. 3: at one’s own discretion: independently of outside influence or control.

Karma: the force generated by a person’s actions held in Hinduism and Buddhism to perpetuate transmigration and in its ethical consequences to determine the nature of the person’s next existence.

Kindness: 1: a kind deed: Favor. 2a: the quality or state of being kind. 2b: Affection.

Kind: 1: Affectionate, Loving. 2: of a sympathetic or helpful nature.

Life: 1a: the quality that distinguishes a vital and functional being from a dead body. 1b: a principle or force that is considered to underlie the distinctive quality of animate beings. 1c: an organismic state characterized by capacity for metabolism, growth, reaction to stimuli, and reproduction. 2: the sequence of physical and mental experiences that make up the existence of an individual. 3: spiritual existence transcending physical death. 4: a sentence of imprisonment for the remainder of a convict’s life.

Longevity: 1a: a long duration of individual life. 1b: length of life. 2: long continuance: Permanence, Durability.

Love: 1a(1): strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties. 1a(2): attraction based on sexual desires. 1a(3): affection based on admiration, benevolence, or common interests. 2: warm attachment, enthusiasm, or devotion.

Loyalty: the quality or state or an instance of being loyal.

Loyal: 1: unswerving in allegiance: as a: faithful in allegiance to one’s lawful sovereign or government. b: faithful to a private person to whom fidelity is due. c: faithful to a cause, ideal, custom, institution, or product.

Materialism: 1a: a doctrine that the only or the highest values or objectives lie in material well-being and in the furtherance of material progress. 1b: a doctrine that economic or social change is materially caused. 2: a preoccupation with or stress upon material rather than intellectual, or spiritual things.

Mercy: 1: compassion or forbearance shown esp: to an offender or to one subject to one’s power; also: lenient or compassionate treatment. 2: a blessing that is an act of divine favor or compassion.

Money: 1: something generally accepted as a medium of exchange, a measure of value, or a means of payment: as a: officially coined or stamped metal currency. b: Money of Account. c: Paper Money. 2: wealth reckoned in terms of money. 2b: an amount of money. 3: a form or denomination of coin or paper money. 4: persons or interests possessing or controlling great wealth.

Black Excellence | Written by Ricco Slade

In the honor of our ancestors and their glorious struggle, let us at this moment in time stand united. We have come so far. We have endured so much. It is inevitable that we will see the promised land. Though we struggle, let it not be in vain. We are destined to fight and struggle. We fight so we won’t have to struggle in the future. We will forever live through those who come after us. We must clear the way, and pave the road for them to travel down. We must be a guiding light, so that they don’t have to travel in the darkness that has consumed us for so long. We must be their strength, and give them vision. In this moment in time, let us never forget where we’ve been, but don’t let that pain blind us to where we are destined to be. The journey is not over. We must carry on. We will overcome.

“Stand Tall Black Man
Don’t Fall Black Woman
We Shall Overcome
We Will Not Fail
If We Are United
Rise Almighty Black Race
Rise Black Prince
Rise Black Princess
Rise Black King
Rise Black Queen
Fight For Equality
Fight For Justice
Fight For Freedom
Fight For Life
Stand Tall Black Woman
Don’t Fall Black Man
We Are One
We Will Overcome”

Don’t Go Back: Reflection On Prison Experience | By Ricco Slade

I cannot blame anyone or anything for the mistakes I’ve made throughout the course of my life. I put myself in handcuffs. I put myself in the back of that police car. I decided to take the road that would lead me to Central Bookings. I put myself in that crowded bullpen. I put myself in front of that judge. I found myself in the Belly of The Beast. Fact not Fiction: The United States Of America has the largest prison population in the whole world. The Prison Industrial Complex is big business. It’s a machine. I can claim that I’m a victim of Mass Incarceration, and I very well may be; but the fact is I did this to myself. I chose this life when I was trying to fit in with the so-called cool kids. “Come on, let’s smoke cigarettes; let’s smoke some weed; let’s get the older kids to buy us some beer; let’s skip school, we need some money, let’s rob somebody.” In all actuality, I was a victim of peer pressure more than anything else. Look where that landed me. No Man’s Land. For the most part this has been a learning experience to say the least. A mental and spiritual journey of self-discovery and realization. A moment of clarity. I’m beginning to understand who I am as a person; a man; and overall a human being. I’m optimistic about the future. The life waiting for me beyond these barbed-wire fences and gun towers. I’ve learned to appreciate life and freedom. Most importantly, I’ve learned to appreciate time.

I’m Never Letting Go: Reflection On Love | By Ricco Slate

Love is a beautiful thing. It has the power to conquer all hatred; but it’s hard to find and even harder to keep. Love often overpowers reason and rationality. Sometimes love is a disguise for lust, often leading us to a state of confusion about the true intentions of those we decide to give our mind, body, and soul to. A manipulative person tends to use superficial love to benefit from the need of acceptance and companionship of a socially weak individual who may have everything else in life but love.

This often leads one to a broken heart, a lack of trust, and isolation turning the reality of love into a dream that’s not even worth chasing. It destroys the whole essence of what created the world we live in today. The love that God had for man. The love that man had for woman, and the love that woman had for child. Love is creation. The person that finds true love, finds life and the abundance thereof. They will always be happy, and their soul will be at peace.

It’s a blessing that everyone tends to take for granted. It’s something that the human race will never understand for the simple fact that love dwells within the heart and not the mind. It’s a passion, not a thought. It’s something that you feel at the very core of your being. It’s a universal bond between the Man and the Woman. It’s the foundation of life; and it’s immortal. Love will overcome the test of time and will eventually prevail to restore harmony amongst humanity.

Don’t Kill Me, I’m Your Brother: Reflection On The Destructive Nature Of Gang Culture | Written by Ricco Slade

I have the utmost love and respect for all the originals. People like Huey P. Newton, Bobby Seale, Assata Shakur, Larry Hoover, Jeff Fort, Willie Lloyd, David Barksdale, T. Rodgers, Raymond Washington, and Stanley Tookie Williams; all the people who set the standard and created the blueprint of African American Community Organization and whose righteous ideology has become the foundation for countless brothers fighting the struggle today. I believe in the power of numbers, and in the strength that comes from unity; but so many brothers have lost sight of what this was about in the beginning. They don’t have the vision that the originals had. Everything’s become corrupted, and instead of building, brothers are destroying what matters most. The people and the community. Everybody’s out for themselves. Now it’s all about who got the most money; who can sleep with the most women; who going to bust their gun the quickest. Chaos, Madness, and Mayhem. Don’t get me wrong, there are some good brothers who understand their purpose and who know their duty and obligation to their organization and community. I commend those righteous brothers of the struggle. The fight for equality must carry on; but we got to get the youth on board. We got to lead by actions, not just words. We have to be the pioneers of the change we would like to see in our communities. It all starts with us. Like they say: United We Stand, and divided We Fall.

Darc Chocolate Love | Darrell Godbold

Darc chocolate love, sometimes your concupiscence mood is introuvable and yet still when I touch you beneath the breath of the moonlit night, I want you to arrange the main synthesis of my love the way you want it, and then torque it with your heart’s seriousness of intent all over my mind

I’m not really a conundrum as to find out about how to discover and infringe upon my taste for your sweet darc chocolate cream and unrelenting love

So, if you’ll just take a deep breath or two and relax for just a moment in this parallax view of time

I’m hoping that you’ll give me a concerting improbable contrivance from the edges of your screaming heart to make me feel what I’m feeling to be believable while inside of your darc chocolate love until daylight has risen and then close those lovely darc pearl eye shadowed eyes of yours and exhale to me all of the pleasured desired feelings pertinent to having your precious trust and deep heart’s love that you can think of

Darc chocolate love, make me say to you here we are together alone again just us and I want you to reveal your every hidden thought of love to me into the existence of you

And while you control the untold to my mind, let me swallow the sugary sweet temptations of your darc chocolate love on the edge of my lips with your name only spoken from them

Then pinch them with that savory kiss of your mind-bending succulent taste and make me scream your name until I faint into a slippery deep sleep to your satisfaction through and through

Feeling the treasure trove of anxiety flowing from your hearts incessant embrace while I’m dreaming so that I’ll know without a doubt that you’re truly my diamond gem

Design me darc chocolate love, without changing the crossroads of my heart, so that I can taste that earthly sweet chocolate softness of you with my shuttered brown eyes closed

I’m really addicted to your passion voice and yet I sense these insurmountable feelings from your unmeasurable past that sometimes erodes you

And yet still, what I love about you the most is that you are without boastful exaggeration, so aware of who you are undeniably and the satisfaction of knowing that for the simplicity of your love, I’m being completely unopposed

Because concerning your particular complexity and mist of love, I can truly say that I’ve loved it into and beyond exhaustion and found it to be a trance, tried and true

Darc chocolate love, infiltrate my predisposed agendas for loving you so that every night right after you step out of the torrential rains of a warm enthralling shower, I can use the softest perfumed lotion in the world to coat your obvious correlating curvatures

And afterwards, with one hundred strokes of my heart’s desire I’d brush your smoothly soft hair until you drift into the state of a sleeping smile and then I’d dare the mirrors to even stare

And as I watch you lay your feelings and your smile down on your fluffy pillow and whisper goodnight to me, then walk into your secret dreams motion picture

Afterwards I’d shadow your beautiful lovely face with an endearment of good night kisses and thoughts of how I love to hear your whispers in the presence of the floor lamp’s late-night glare

Use me darc chocolate love at your discretion, so that I can say to you that I’m unconditionally convergent about loving you without any reservation

© 2020 Darrell Godbold

I’m Sorry For What I’ve Done: Reflection On Sexual Exploitation | Ricco Slade

I love my mother. I love my sister. I love my daughter. I guess you can say that I love women in general. In the past, I had a very hard time expressing that love and appreciation. I made a lot of dumb mistakes, and if one could label me anything at that day in time it would probably be womanizer. I manipulated my way into the lives of countless women. Then I became oppressive, possessive, and overprotective. My negative ways destroyed lives, broke hearts, and tarnished my image as a man. I am honestly utterly ashamed of the person I use to be and the things that I’ve done. I’ve had the pleasure of interacting with some very dynamic females throughout the course of my short life. The beautiful, the intellectual, the free-spirited, the conservative, the innocent, the wild, the party monster, the cuddle buddy, the fearless, the lover, the fighter, and the blessing in disguise. Each one has taught me a valuable lesson, and each one have a very special place in my heart. From the bottom of that heart, I apologize to each and every one of those dynamic females. I couldn’t give them the love that they deserved, because at the time I didn’t love myself. I couldn’t be the man that they needed me to be, because at the time I didn’t know or understand the purpose or the duty of a man. I was still a boy. I was just interested in one thing; and that was sex. I missed out on so many opportunities to build something long-lasting and worth while just to enjoy something short lived and meaningless. My lust destroyed the developmental process of love. I have no regrets for the simple fact I know for certain that the females I exploited for sex have moved on to bigger and better things. I am happy for them all. Maybe one day i’ll find that peace, love, and happiness

Black Fear vs Self-Progress |Written by Ricco Slad

When The Willie Lynch’s blueprint of Slave Control was introduced in Virginia, he clearly states at the end of his address to the slave masters: And if your slave still does not submit to your will, instill the fear of God in him. Fear has plagued the Black community in this country for generations. We fear what we don’t understand, and a lot of brothers and sisters don’t understand the power they truly possess. The Spiritual Inheritance embedded in our DNA, left by our ancestors. That power will liberate Africa and her children in the diaspora if we face our fears and embrace it. There are a lot of obstacles that we as a race must overcome.

First we must accept are we are, where we are, what we are subjected to, and what we must do to free ourselves from bondage. The problem that we face with this first step is distraction. We as a race are so caught up in capitalism and materialism that we can’t think beyond that. It’s all about how much money we have, and where we spend it, how we spend it, and what we buy to impress some and make others feel inferior. We fear poverty, even though we are always going to be impoverished until we acquire assets, become owners, and stop renting. Now once we free our minds from the money trap, we can utilize the Capital that we hustle so hard to stack up to actually invest in resources, most importantly Land and Agriculture. Once we overcome distraction we must really face our fears because this is when we pose a threat to the powers that be.

The manipulative tools that they put in place to keep us asleep and unaware aren’t working anymore. We are awoke and focused now, but we are un-resourceful. They control every aspect of society, from mass media, social media, politics, religion, commerce, law enforcement, you get the idea of what we’re up against. Now they use all of this to instill fear back into us to put us back in what they deem is our rightful place. This is when it gets scary cause they have individuals from our race (Deep Agents) that they use to try to maintain control. We have to be prepared to fight war on every level: Social Warfare, Psychological Warfare, Economical Warfare, Educational Warfare, and Spiritual Warfare. Physical Warfare is the lowest form of warfare and must only be used as a last resort.

Now that we observe our grim reality, we must fully accept it. Embrace it, and face our fears. I’m going to keep it on the I right now, maybe some of you can relate, maybe some of you can’t, but my biggest fear is not being accepted by the members of my own race. I fear that they will use me, abuse me, and neglect me when I need them most. Now when you’re up against a System with many complexities, collective networks all working in unison, as a individual, you won’t be able to withstand the applied pressure alone for an extended period of time.

Pressure bust pipes. It’s inevitable. Even the strongest man will fold if enough pressure is applied. Secondly, we must unite. United We Stand, Divided We Fall. See that was the plan of the oppressor. Divide and Conquer, Show No Mercy, Seek and Destroy. That’s how they overthrew our once glorious race.

That was the mentality they had. If we are united, there’s nothing to fear, because they won’t be able to conquer us as a race anymore. That’s when we will be able to make progress individually and
collectively. There will not be any chains or barriers. Every individual will be able to utilizes their unique talents, strengths, and abilities to explore, discover, and create. Then we will be able to come together as a collective and build.

Forward Progress.

The Last Conversation | ANCIENT SOURCE

How long will it take me before I am as wise as you?—the student asks his teacher.

Teacher: Five years.

Student: This is a very long time. What about if I work twice as hard?

Teacher: Then it will take ten.

Student: Ten! That is far too long. How about if I studied all day and well into the night, every night?

Teacher: Fifteen years.

Student: I don’t understand. Every time I promise to devote more energy to my goal, you tell me that it will take longer. Why?

Teacher: The answer is simple. With one eye fixed on the destination, there is only one left to guide you along the journey.

In The Beginning Part 3 | Written by the Brotherhood of Sincerity Member

It’s year 2030, climate change already destroyed 65% of our forest worldwide, only 15% of the ice in the Arctic Ocean remains.

Why the ice in the Arctic Ocean so important? I remember my father explaining to me at age 12 that this ice keeps the entire polar regions cool and help keep the planet temperature moderate or balanced. He further explained how 80% of the sunlight that strikes it and reflects back into the sky. During the summer the ice melts rapidly, exposing the dark parts of the ocean surfaces. The ocean absorbs 90% of the sunlight, once the oceans heat up the Arctic temperature rise further. As a result, massive flooding invades all tourist shores at an exponential rate affecting all multi-million dollar homes. My father told me all this while we were at the park playing baseball at the downtown Dallas Main Street park.

In resentment, my father further added that I must do anything to survive. He walked towards me and said. “Son, I love you more than life itself and all I want is for you to be safe. These coming years there will be hell on Earth, and I want you to be prepared for it. He explained with sadness but hopeful, what we have done to the Earth, the Earth is retaliating back….fighting all that been abusing her for centuries”. I was confused and shocked not because of his words, but the fear in his eyes. His body language troubling and his energy was not normal. He grabbed firmly both of my shoulders as if he was going to shake me. And said, son just be ready for what is to come. I remember, when looking at his eyes-only tear fell from his right eye it navigated itself into his curly black beard.

Outside of the park, ancient and new diseases have already re-awakened from sleep attacking everyone in sight. Our medical system has been overwhelmed and all doctors and nurses are over worked, tired, and stressed. They are in short supplies as a result many because vulnerable to the infections. Our medical system is slowing collapsing.  They fought hard and many lost their lives in doing so. Only Covid-35 remained to be the most resistant plague. Our vaccines were promising, but Covid-35 found itself to be 5 steps ahead of our scientist. This virus is undeniably stubborn.

From the mountain of Yosemite to the edges of New York City where the statue of Liberty stands tall. The fear of the approaching Covid-35 is spreading amongst all communities rapidly killing all living organisms in its path. The symptoms of Covid-35 were the same as Covid-19, but the only difference is that you only had 5 hours to live. If you were infected, you were on your own and alone.

My father warned me about this day. Now, it is my time to keep his promise and implement his teachings for the troubles…………….that will come.  I know that this will not be over soon…..OUR FUTURE the worst is about to unravel.  

In The Beginning Pt. 2 | By Brotherhood of Sincerity Member

As I closed my heavy eyes lids, once again I can see a tall tree with youthful green leaves dancing with the winds welcoming the rise of the Sun. They danced so loudly, I swear they were singing in unison as a church choir. Very Joyfully! The awakening sunlight or sunrise as we call it, made everything mesmerisingly perfect…too perfect. Indeed, I was in heaven.

From a distance, I see the love of my life walking towards me genuinely. She had no attire on and no care in the world her presence healed my entire body, mind, and soul. I am at peace, finally. Her smile was glowing with no care in the world. She licked her lips and innocent eyes captivated my attention, I was paralyzed. How could this be? She came back from the dead? At the present moment, I didn’t care because she finally came back to my arms again. Gradually, I can see the light of the Sun work seductively embracing her sacred skin, the reflection bounced back in milliseconds hypnotizing my consciousness and calmed my heart…….again. I remember our love is real, authentic, and pure, I never went to forget. Her thick copper braids moved effortlessly in comfortable pace as if she was swimming with easy underwater. How can all this be? Is this possible? Is this real?

Spontaneously, an explosive sound woke me in fear and disrupted my comfortable dream, in panic I lifted myself from the concrete floor and shoved my sleeping bag into the raining littered sidewalk. The rats were so spooked that they ran for their lives, I swear it was dozens of them. One of them could have been breakfast.

Fully woke, I realized I’m still in downtown Dallas, Texas towards the Deep Ellum area. Darn! I woke up in darkness this reality sucks, I must keep moving to nowhere and survive.

It all happened 30 years ago back when Covid-35 wiped-out the entire human population, the world we once knew is no more. Partially, I blame our government for their false promises and false hopes. They sold us sanctuary, free food, shelter, and misleading healthcare.

There’s always a price to pay and the price to pay to to have it all is exponentially large….they didn’t want money or soldiers to join their army….they wanted us to surrender our personal freedoms and weapons. During this time all cell phones did not have any signal. Internet was obsolete and the only technology alive was radio communication. Broadcasting through radio stations was how they lured us into these FEMA’s camps. This is when the last standing humans, the weak, starving, sick, desperate one went for safety. Little did they know that within the food, the government injected a vaccine hoping to find a cure. All perished, but a few who understand that nothing in life is free. Covid-35 didn’t discriminate and it didn’t matter how advance our technology was, this virus always found a way to mutate, resit and kill.

My heart is deeply heavy right now because of my dream and reality. Perhaps we are on the verge of a great evolution anomaly. Perhaps the Mother Earth is revolting form our destructive ways, and enabling us to see our true nature. We the human race have been a virus to this planet, we took and never gave nothing back. When this pandemic is over and live to give the tales, we can learn and remember from our mistakes, and do better.

Everyday, I ask myself. How could we have been so careless? Why do I fall into the same dream every-time I sleep. What it’s message? How do I encrypted it? The human race is running out of time and I must keep moving froward this is way to stay alive and survive. I must keep walking forward.

Davi e Golias | Escrito por Nilton Victorino Filho

Tudo o que eu sei de esporte e superação, aprendi no Educandário Dom Duarte, para falar a verdade mesmo, quando fui para a rua, faltava muito pouco para aprender.
No Educandário Dom Duarte, me acostumei a ver o Davi derrubar o Golias, sempre o time menor que vence o maior, ou o corredor descalço superar o adversário muito bem aparelhado, passei a infância vendo e vivendo essa história.

Para não perder a oportunidade de uma boa lembrança, vai a passagem nossa, num jogo no estádio do Ibirapuera:
Mais uma vez nos aterrorizamos por ver, do outro lado do campo, os atletas do Cristo-Rei, primeiro pensamos que confundiram as categorias, os caras eram maiores, muito maiores, todos usavam chuteiras de cravo e nós…Kichute.
O professor Claudinei dirigiu-se a nós, na maior calma do mundo.
_. Não esquenta não…os caras são grandes, mas a bola é redonda e as traves tem o mesmo tamanho, para os dois lados. Saiu rindo, como se fosse um mestre chinês.
Como se aquilo fizesse algum sentido.
Ainda no primeiro tempo, bati uma falta, joguei a bola na gaveta (nisso eu era bom), o professor, que nesse momento saboreava um sanduba, gritou com a boca cheia:
_. Está vendo aí, ele é grande, mas não voa!
Incentivado por isso, ainda que, não fizesse o menor sentido, fomos para cima e vencemos o jogo pelo placar de 7 a 0, ao final do jogo, o goleiro quis conhecer o autor do gol de falta, me cumprimentou e disse:
_. Eu sabia que quando vocês começassem a jogar bola, seríamos massacrados.

Fiz com os ombros que não havia entendido e queria saber o porquê da afirmação, na maior tranquilidade ele falou:
_. Vocês são do Dom Duarte, vocês são assim.
E saiu, nesse momento, o resto do time do Cristo-Rei cercava o Pelezinho, o neguinho havia feito uma partida perfeita, assinou 4 gols, deu duas assistências e sofreu a falta que eu converti, o Faustino passava orgulhoso de peito estufado e o Baianinho do 11, só faltou distribuir autógrafos.
Cresci à sombra disso, ou essas coisas me fizeram crescer, sai do colégio e me tornei adulto, mas fiquei por perto, sempre que podia entrava e matava saudades da minha casa.

Por ser vizinho do colégio, meus filhos passaram a frequentar as aulas no grupo escolar e na Ozem.
Nessa época eu já havia montado a minha agremiação, metade dos alunos do ginásio jogavam nela, num belo dia, por não ter um professor de Educação Física, a diretora me convidou para montar um time e disputar os jogos escolares.

Não hesitei, aceitei na mesma hora e com o entusiasmo de quem vai reviver um sonho.
Mas os tempos eram outros, pude ver nos olhos dos internos, assim que se apresentaram, esses meninos eram falastrões, indisciplinados, mimados e arrogantes, me lembro dos internos Kalunga, Antonio e Floriano e daquele que posteriormente viraria o Mendigo…O Carlinhos, que era lateral direito.

Meu sonho se quebrou, com a prancheta na mão, olhei para o grupo, deu vontade de dizer à diretora que havia me arrependido, se não fosse pelos jogadores do Dínamo, que estavam ali também, eu teria feito, pensei que um jogo no comando desse time pudesse completar um ciclo, simbolicamente, eu devia…a mim e aos meus amigos de infância. Rezando pra a tortura acabar logo, me apresentei no dia do jogo, enquanto escutava as abobrinhas dos meus jogadores no aquecimento, o ônibus do colégio adversário chegou, dele desceram uns guris escurinhos e tímidos, todos pequenos pra idade, olhei pro céu, que ameaçava escurecer naquele momento e entendi a ironia do destino…Eu não só havia crescido e virado adulto, havia me tornado o Golias, Alex o meu fiel escudeiro, viu que eu tinha um sorriso de incredulidade no rosto e deu a estocada final, disse que aqueles guris eram alunos do Solano Lopes.

Eu sempre fui admirador do trabalho de base da escola do Jardim Boa Vista, dei de ombros e chamei meu time, passei as instruções, não ia tombar sem luta.
Aqueles meninos pequenos deitaram e rolaram em cima do meu time, eu comandava os gigantes e torcia para o Davi, no fim do jogo entreguei a prancheta para a diretora, diante da pergunta se eu ia continuar no comando, fiz um silencio e não mais voltei.

Como eu disse, não sou santo, me vinguei do Solano Lopes, meses depois, comandando o colégio Palmares.

A New Beginning Pt. 1| Written by Brotherhood of Sincerity Member

A Respiratory Virus is what we used to call it….now our scientists are in AWE scratching their heads in confusion still no cure yet. Invisible it was to the human naked eye… came fast so fast it killed millions humans all over the globe. All I can do is look at the sky and ask for anyone to please help us…so much screaming, death, and tears.

“Its 2020, 75% of the population already have been wiped out……the first warning have came as a wave and paralyzed the entire Globe all economic-systems created by man. Yet, we didn’t listen we saw the signs… Many ignored for the greediness and for profits and other pleasures……” 10 years later Covid-19 has now adapted and mutated into Covid-35. The devastation of deaths was massive…in large scales….the Earth stood in shock and silence again.”

Model: Adomo Doumba
Model: Adomo Doumba

YOUR Thoughts on Capitalism and COVID-19? | By Anonymous

COVID-19 is showing you the facts that American capitalism has lied about. It’s showing how many of you support socialism when it’s convenient for you or the people you care for…

Children could’ve gotten laptops & free wifi this whole time.

Wifi could’ve been a utility this whole time.

Stores could’ve been allowing seniors to shop for one hour assisted.

Stores could’ve closed earlier to give stockers & cleaners proper time to stock & recover this whole time.

College students could have a frozen interest rate on student loans this whole time.

Pregnant women, disabled people & single parents could’ve worked from home this whole time.

Abandoned federal buildings could’ve been used for homeless people.

Students could learn from home instead of being suspended for a lack of transportation to school this whole time.

Bill payment could’ve been furloughed this whole time.

Evictions for hard times could’ve been delayed this whole time.

Co-Pays & other out-of-pocket health provider fees could have been waived.

Not turning someone’s electricity or water off in desperate times so they can survive could’ve happened this whole time.

Airfare could’ve been cheaper this whole time.

Sick people could have been encouraged to take time off & given paid time off to care for themselves.

The bottom line is…

Humanity could’ve been humane this whole time…it’s always been a choice.

Isn’t she something? | By Jazlynn ladylinkwell Montgomery

You make her pay full price, plus tip
While your whores dine and dash
Using discounted coupons so that they don’t have to pull from their surplus so much
You favor the nectar of a withering flower
While you drain the very existence of the sunflower that shines even when a dark cloud appears

You love being the bed mate of a woman known by the community as Lemonade
Because she quenches the thirst of men who toss her money

Make them pay for her cup and the pitcher she sits inWhile your water, your source of what the majority of you is made of is second choice to thy lips
You are the sweetest poison
The Holocaust of a dream lived and suffered through

You make me maniac
Yet you laugh at the scares that make me beautiful
You pull me close only because you can’t stand the whispers of the unumbered that beg to be
All that you hold back in your love bucket
Then when I stay you say I want more of the world
So fuck it
You would rather bury your dick in Gehenna

Then to return it back to a serene place in the bosom of A God
My power doesn’t lie between my thighs
You hold intimacy sacred
Yet you call your women of yesterday “my girls”
How many times did I scream make love to me?
Suck on my brain, lick my conscience, make my thoughts cum
Give me what you don’t give them
And maybe I would appreciate the difference

Written by, Jazlynn Ladylinkwell

Day 3 of A Break up | By Jazlynn LadyInkell Montgomery

The grey area
That space where the
things yelled out loud has now become wall paper
I stare at it sometimes
The words that would make someone stand on a cliff
Only to yell the anxiety of their brutal blows
I get so upset within myself
I let you carry my emotions like a coffin
Lower me down
my bed is its final resting place
I ride for awhile in my car
Blasting fuck you music
Fuck them hoes you entertained
I’m going to be okay
You must of bumped your head,
Get o-u-t
Bumping that Keyshia, Mary, Khia, Mya, hell Syleena Johnson
All The mothers and God mother’s of a good break up record
I want a black
I want to stand at the beach watching the coming and goings of waves
Saying goodbye to you is something that I wrestle with
Give it time they say
Maybe it’s not over
Maybe he is hurt like I am
Doubt it, because nothing can hurt a man that creates this much havoc and mayhem
May him and his deep throat puppet
Enjoy the moments of pleasure
For I heard after every heartbreak, a goddess is reborn

Written by: Jazlynn LadyInkell Montgomery

A Cobra Da Estrada | Escrito por Nilton Victorino Filho

A copa de 1978, aquela que fomos garfados pela Argentina, assistimos na sala do pavilhão 14, aquele ano fez muito frio, o chão quadriculado de marrom e bege deixou marcas em nossos traseiros. Os jogos foram disputados à noite, então corríamos da escola para chegar em tempo de não perder um minuto de jogo, lembro que o Mathiole e o Dalcides discutiram no recreio e chegaram mesmo a ficar beiço a beiço, numa atitude de vias de fato, o padre Paulo chegou e separou-os, agarrado pela turma do deixa disso, o Dalcides gritou em tom ameaçador:
_8 e 15.

Isso, equivalia à uma marcação de briga na hora da saída, posto que, o fim do horário das aulas se dava nesse exato horário, nos corredores começou o alarido, conversas e expectativas por conta da tal briga.
O grande problema é que… era quinta-feira, logo mais o Brasil iria enfrentar a Áustria.
É lógico que, quando o sinal das 08h15min bateu, todos correram, para os seus pavilhões e, nem se deram conta da briga marcada.

O fato é que o Dalcides e o Mathiole nunca brigaram e ninguém mais tocou nesse assunto.
Ruim mesmo, era ser criança e ter que aguentar, durante o jogo, as sandices do Seu Odilon.
Na cabeça dele, a culpa toda foi do goleiro Leão.
Quando o guarda metas da seleção fazia uma defesa, ele gritava:
_Esse Lião é muito macho.
Quando ele tomava gols, o grito era outro:
_Esse Lião é um méida.
A culpa mesmo eu colocava no Claudio Coutinho, o técnico, que bateu o pé e não levou o Falcão.

Nos dias seguintes tinha uma narrativa diferenciada do jogo, ela era feita pelo Lucídio, um neguinho que gostava de contar histórias e interpretar aventuras, usava uns sapatos de bico fino e calças pula brejo, sua figura lembrava o personagem do Al Jolson no filme “O cantor de Jazz”, com uma diferença, o ator se pintava e o Lucídio era daquela cor mesmo.

Sempre que o neguinho se apresentava todo mundo parava, ele fazia vozes diferentes, quatro ou cinco vozes, que conversavam entre si… um show mesmo, ele jurava que iria trabalhar na televisão. O preferido de todos era o Carlitos do Chaplin, fazia isso com propriedade e por força do hábito e, devido à um problema físico, andava sempre com elas fechadas e quase não conseguia dobra-las.

Por conta disso, não podia ser utilizado no eito, não dava conta de carpir por muito tempo e, como esse era o castigo predileto do Seu Odilon, ele se vingou. Para indignação de todos, foi mandado a trabalhar na olaria, onde eu trabalhava, todos os menores do pavilhão14 me pediram para tomar conta dele, alguns me ameaçaram, se não o fizesse.

Fui junto a ele no primeiro dia, demos a volta na horta do japonês, já que, o declive da descida do campo do 14 era muito acentuado para ele, isso aumentava o meu percurso uns 800 metros, fui pelo caminho preparado para brigar, se alguém se metesse a besta. Mas qual, a simpatia do neguinho era fatal, em alguns minutos, já havia feito o que eu demorei umas semanas e, já o seu público havia aumento, na hora do descanso ele já mostrava a sua arte.

Na volta, eu tinha que andar no passo curto dele, passávamos um descampado que levava ao lago, a mata à esquerda e o canavial do 11 à direita, seguia-se um pequeno pântano e chegava-se ao lago da horta e uma bifurcação, à direita vinha o campo do 14, bem em frente à mata.
Corria entre os meninos, a lenda de uma cobra gigante que andava por aquelas paradas, dificilmente um guri não sentia arrepios, chegando à essa bifurcação.

Em dias de chuva, devido à lama que se formava na estrada, o neguinho não conseguia subir o barranco da horta e, eu tinha que empurrá-lo morro acima.
A cena era muito engraçada, toda aquela lama, eu com os chinelos nas mãos, escorregando e empurrando o Lucídio ladeira acima, eu gritando para ele colaborar e, ele se acabando de rir.

Quase sempre, ficavam uns gaiatos do outro lado do campo, no barranco do mandiocal, eles sempre assistiam a cena e chamavam os outros meninos para assistir, quando chegávamos no pavilhão, estávamos cobertos de lama vermelha.
Por essa época, o Roda estava com o habito de caçar cobras, para vender ao Instituto Butantã, eu fui à umas expedições que ele fazia na mata e, até inventei um cabo no bambu oco que prendia a cabeça da cobra, mantendo-a longe.

Um dia, na saída, quando já íamos entrar na curva da horta, ouvimos um barulho na vegetação, voltamos e avistamos uma cobra enorme que media uns bons 12 metros, o Lucídio tremia de medo, eu estava fascinado, nunca imaginei ver uma daquele tamanho, se afastava lentamente na direção do lago. Resolvi que ia segui-la, para saber onde era o seu esconderijo, mais tarde eu chamaria o Roda.
O neguinho ali parado, eu disse:
_. Fique aqui mesmo, que eu já volto.

E me apressei à bruta que, já estava longe… muito lenta, se encaminhou e quase desapareceu nas touceiras, sem fazer barulho continuei na espreita, na parte sombreada do lago havia uma enorme seringueira, embaixo da arvore, um buraco onde ela entrou muito devagar, quando metade do corpo dela havia passado, escutei uma correria atrás de mim, eram os amigos Edson, Téquinha, Spock, Adilson e Viana, vinham gritando e ao avistar metade da cobra silenciaram, ficamos os seis olhando.

Ao final da cena, o Viana me deu uma piaba:
_. Está maluco moleque?
Voltamos para o caminho, imaginei que o Lucídio devia estar em pânico…, mas, espera aí…disse eu.
_. Como foi, que vocês chegaram tão rápido?
_O Lucídio chegou correndo, dizendo que você estava em perigo…. Não terminou a frase, desatou a rir, eu e os outros membros do sexteto caímos no mato de tanto rir.
O Lucídio, que não conseguia andar direito, acabara de quebrar a barreira do som.

A Utopian | By Poet Nathan Antoine

Photo Credit: Pierre Jean-Louis

If a utopia was real
It would be black

Even when i’m alone
On my own
Or with a crew
Just hanging out
Doing what we do

I am
We are

But I guess
I’m supposed to be mad and enraged
And in a cage
Because I’m black, right?
Because I don’t know
How to act, right?

Yet, the reaction
To my intellection
Like an erection

Now everyone’s second guessing

These hyperbolic
That try to put me in a box

Not knowing
I am the key
To any lock
Paper to rock
When I want to
And i’m ghetto
Or I’m bougie
When I want to
And I do what I want
When I want
When I want to

But who told you
Life is going to cater to you?

Because mirrors
Plus time
Plus time
Plus mirrors
My mind
All the time

Yo have to want it

To need it
To feel it
To feed it
To work for it

Then you can
Flaunt it
And call it your best life
With no misery or strife
Just happy days
That’ll capture you-In a daze
While mesmerized by the rays
Of sunshine
Supporting mine
Slowing time

We’re built from bricks
These magic tricks
From deep within
A sea of melanin

The art to our pen
Why we’re always
Creating all kinds of things

Afro things

Just from within
Our mind’s pen

Simply put

I am
We are
The embodiment
Of a Utopian.

Poet Nathan Antoine ©
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As Manhãs De Domingo | Escrito por Nilton Victorino Filho

É certo que Ayrton Senna é incontestavelmente um mito, e quanto a isso, nada e ninguém vai apagar da memória do povo. Mas, tenho a impressão de que, quem não viu e viveu esse tempo, não alcança a verdadeira proporção dessa grandiosidade.

Sou paulistano, daqueles bem típicos, que torcem o nariz pra tudo e gostam de ser do contra, qualquer ideia, ou comportamento, ou filosofia, jamais conseguirá arrebatar metade das cabeças desse povo. Aí, vem um piloto e ganha a unanimidade, a ponto de fazer o povo acordar de madrugada, pra assistir um esporte que, a maioria deles sequer conhecia as regras e nem importavam, quando o carro do Senna quebrava era o fim da corrida, mesmo que fosse à primeira volta, os televisores eram desligados.

Todos sabem que a Várzea é mais que um costume, é uma espécie de religião, os adeptos desse esporte defendem seus bairros e cidades, como se defendessem suas famílias.

Em domingos de corridas do Senna, algumas Ligas não marcavam jogos pra esse horário, cansei de ver, durante as partidas, jogadores dos times adversários correrem pra torcida pra saber o andamento da corrida, no calor da peleja, alguém gritava:
O Senna está na frente. Os inimigos esqueciam as diferenças e comemoravam, quando a corrida acabava, o couro comia. Em 1991, eu trabalhava muito e ainda fazia bico, consertava rádios antigos pra me defender. Havia marcado uma visita pruma madame em Moema e ela possuía uma coleção de rádios dos anos 40 e 50, isso me daria o equivalente a uns 20 salários e eu não gastaria mais que 6 horas na empreitada. Tudo maravilha, quando eu marquei não sabia que haveria corrida, acordei cedo e a primeira vontade foi jogar o serviço pra outro dia, olhei meus filhos pequenos e achei que não seria certo, com o coração apertado me lancei ao sacrifício. Tinha que pegar um ônibus pro centro e lá, um que fosse pro Ibirapuera, meio caminho… Moema. No ponto do Educandário, várias pessoas se aglomeravam em volta do radinho do seu Felipe e o narrador já anunciava as posições da largada, não tive tempo de me encostar, já vinha o ônibus e entrei. Pouca gente no transporte, o motorista e o cobrador, dois guris no fundo, uma senhora de idade avançada que usava um torço na cabeça, dois bancos a frente dela uma senhora que as roupas denunciavam ser evangélica, à direita um senhor muito branco com bigode afinado, no banco mais próximo do cobrador um senhor escuro tinha um Motorola vermelho e ouvia a transmissão de corrida, tendo muito lugar vago, sentei-me ao lado desse, me sorriu e ajeitou o aparelho no colo, o cobrador inclinava-se para melhor ouvir, vamos embora. Largou mal o Senna, estava entre os quatro primeiros na largada e caiu pra posição 17. _Sem terror, o Senna busca. Disse o cobrador, eu e o dono do rádio rimos confiantes. No ponto da Praça Elis Regina o carro parou e entraram uns passageiros, sentaram-se perto de onde vinha o som da corrida, visivelmente irritado o motorista gritou: Ô meu senhor, aumenta o som que também sou filho de Deus.

Som no máximo, a dona do torço sorriu satisfeita, com um ar alheio a evangélica olhou pra fora da janela, já vinha acelerando o danado do Senna e recuperava duas posições.
Na Paineira, farol fechado, um caminhão da Eletropaulo emparelha o motorista pergunta pro nosso motorista sobre a corrida.
_Tá chinelando e recuperando posições, essa tá no papo.

Existe um clima de amistosidade no transporte, pessoas que mal se conhecem partilham da mesma alegria, ainda que a senhora evangélica pareça não dar à mínima, todos estão eufóricos, Senna pisa fundo e manda mais dois corredores pra fila, a senhora do torço grita:
_Ah, muléque abusado.

Em Pinheiros, no ponto da Faria Lima vem à tristeza, o dono do rádio levanta-se e puxa o fio pra descer, bastou uma fração de segundo e aquele homem passou de provedor da alegria para um odioso estraga prazeres.
Ônibus parado no ponto e deu à impressão que o motorista não ia abrir a porta, todos torceram por isso, o cobrador balançou a cabeça:
_Mano, aí já é sequestro.

O motorista muito contrariado abriu a porta, não sem antes rogar uma praga.
Entramos na Rebouças em silêncio, olhando nas ruas, procurando no vazio de domingo uma alma portando um rádio, a mulher evangélica não aguentou a pressão e gritou:
_A culpa é sua motorista, não devia ter deixado aquele homem sair.

O motorista não se defendeu como todos nós caiu na gargalhada, diante disso, a mulher analisou direito o que acabara de falar e nos acompanhou nas risadas, nesse instante, num dos prédios residenciais, vi um grupinho de pessoas reunidos na mesa do porteiro, paguei a condução e atravessei a catraca, disse pro motorista parar o ônibus, desci e ainda na escada perguntei, me responderam que já ia em sétimo lugar, voltei pro ônibus e todos gritaram de alegria.

Na passarela que dá acesso ao Hospital das Clínicas, o vendedor de doces, que também estava cercado de dezenas de pessoas, gritou que já havia alcançado mais uma posição.
Na Consolação, policiais e agentes do transito paravam as motos irregulares, no lado oposto do cemitério, infratores e cumpridores da lei ouviam a corrida, um homem em vias de ser algemado, gritou feliz.
_Ele já está em quinto lugar, Ayyyyyyyyyton Senna do Brasil.

Na Praça Roosevelt, vindo da Avenida São Luis, um rapaz muito magro com calção azul, camisa da seleção canarinho e capacete amarelo na cabeça, passou correndo e gritando que era o Senna em pessoa, não nos restou nada, que não aplaudi-lo.
Chegamos à Xavier de Toledo, final de linha, e havia uma televisão numa barraca de cachorros quente, juntamo-nos às centenas de pessoas que se acotovelavam e gritavam, vimos o Senna assumir a ponta e vencer mais uma, na bandeirada final, abraços e sorrisos.

Caminhei até a Sé, retribui os sorrisos das pessoas que comemoravam …oficialmente o domingo acabara de começar.

There are 8 types of love according the Ancient Greeks. | By Mateo Sol

1. “EROS” – Sexual Passion Love
The first kind of love is Eros, which is named after the Greek god of love and fertility. Eros represents the idea of sexual passion and desire. The ancient Greeks considered Eros to be dangerous and frightening as it involves a “loss of control” through the primal impulse to procreate. Eros is a passionate and intense form of love that arouses romantic and sexual feelings. Eros is an exulted and beautifully idealistic love that in the hearts of the spiritually awakened can be used to “recall knowledge of beauty” (as Socrates put it) through Tantra and spiritual sex. But when misguided, eros can be misused, abused and indulged in, leading to impulsive acts and broken hearts. Eros is a primal and powerful fire that burns out quickly. It needs its flame to be fanned through one of the deeper forms of love below as it is centered around the selfish aspects of love, that is, personal infatuation and physical pleasure.

2. “PHILIA” – Deep Friendship Love
Philia is a type of love that is felt among friends who’ve endured hard times together.
As Aristotle put it, philia is a “dispassionate virtuous love” that is free from the intensity of sexual attraction. It often involves the feelings of loyalty among friends, camaraderie among teammates, and the sense of sacrifice for your pack.

3. “LUDUS” – Playful Love
Ludus is that feeling we have when we go through the early stages of falling in love with someone, e.g. the fluttering heart, flirting, teasing, and feelings of euphoria.
Playfulness in love is an essential ingredient that is often lost in long-term relationships. Yet playfulness is one of the secrets to keeping the childlike innocence of your love alive, interesting and exciting.

4. “AGAPE” – Love for Everyone
The highest and most radical type of love according to the Greeks is agape, or selfless unconditional love. This type of love is not the sentimental outpouring that often passes as love in our society. It has nothing to do with the condition-based type of love that our sex-obsessed culture tries to pass as love. Agape is what some call spiritual love. It is an unconditional love, bigger than ourselves, a boundless compassion, an infinite empathy. It is what the Buddhists describe as “mettā” or “universal loving kindness.” It is the purest form of love that is free from desires and expectations, and loves regardless of the flaws and shortcomings of others. Agape is the love that is felt for that which we intuitively know as the divine truth: the love that accepts, forgives and believes for our greater good.

5. “PRAGMA” – Longstanding Love
Pragma is a love that has aged, matured and developed over time. It is beyond the physical, it has transcended the casual, and it is a unique harmony that has formed over time. You can find pragma in married couples who’ve been together for a long time, or in friendships that have endured for decades. Unfortunately pragma is a type of love that is not easily found. We spend so much time and energy trying to find love and so little time in learning how to maintain it. Unlike the other types of love, pragma is the result of effort on both sides. It’s the love between people who’ve learned to make compromises, have demonstrated patience and tolerance to make the relationship work.

6 “PHILAUTIA” – Self Love
The Greeks understood that in order to care for others, we must first learn to care for ourselves. This form of self-love is not the unhealthy vanity and self-obsession that is focused on personal fame, gain and fortune as is the case with Narcissism. You cannot share what you do not have. If you do not love yourself, you cannot love anyone else either. The only way to truly be happy is to find that unconditional love for yourself. Often learning to love yourself involves embracing all the qualities you perceive as “unlovable”, this is where shadow work comes in.

7. “STORGE” – Parental Love
Storge is a natural form of affection that often flows between parents and their children, and children for their parents.
Storge love can even be found among childhood friends that is later shared as adults. But although storge is a powerful form of love, it can also become an obstacle on our spiritual paths, especially when our family or friends don’t align with or support our journey.

8. “MANIA” –
Mania love is a type of love that leads a partner into a type of madness and obsessiveness. It occurs when there is an imbalance between eros and ludus.
To those who experience mania, love itself is a means of rescuing themselves; a reinforcement of their own value as the sufferer of poor self-esteem. This person wants to love and be loved to find a sense of self-value. Because of this, they can become possessive and jealous lovers, feeling as though they desperately “need” their partners. If the other partner fails to reciprocate with the same kind of Mania love, many issues prevail. This is why mania can often lead to issues such as codependency.

O Gêmeo Do Mal |Escrito por Nilton Victorino Filho

Em dias de verão, pelas tardinhas, o sol pintava com um amarelo vivo, o céu, por cima da mata da olaria Assim, os nossos dias eram coloridos e, não importava a condição de órfão, eu nunca estive sozinho na vida, tinha os amigos e alguns eram como irmãos, tinha meus autores e minhas canções, por vezes se misturavam o Guimarães Rosa e o Bituca e o meu viver a infância ia mesmo tomando jeito de literatura, literatura cantada.

Ainda guardava, da infância, o Belchior e o Casimiro de Abreu, esses nunca saíram da parede da memória, ao passo que eu crescia, outros gênios se juntaram à galeria, nomes novos para compor a sinfonia da minha vida, feito Beto Guedes e Érico Veríssimo.
No entanto, minha cultura não me fazia retraído ou tímido…jogava futebol, rodava pião, roubava frutas no pomar, pulava sela e enrustia bananas…feito todo índio do Educa.
Quando chegou a adolescência, um mundo novo sê-nos mostrou e, nos arrastou em seu redemoinho.

Esse mundo novo, se mostrava muito mais drástico e complexo, exigia respostas rápidas e atitudes firmes, num sentido mais amplo, a mesma cena que trazia o doce colo de uma mulher, podia ser precedida pela trajetória de um tiro em sua direção.
E nessa nova cena, o prazer do sexo vinha acompanhado do perigo eminente e, eles são parceiros antigos.

Primeiro, para acabar de vez com essa coisa de achar que um raio nunca cai duas vezes na mesma arvore, vou contar da Casa da Infância, por lá eu já havia me deparado com um sósia, o seu nome era Delevado… pessoas com o mesmo corpo, rosto. Tudo idêntico a você, são até comuns de acontecer, no entanto, a probabilidade dessas pessoas se encontrarem é muito remota, de estarem no mesmo país, na mesma cidade, no mesmo bairro…na mesma casa então…

Ainda que o Delevado fosse uns dois anos mais velho, nos divertíamos com isso, por vezes, ele ficava de castigo por mim e vice-versa, todos achavam que se tratava de gêmeos, o raio havia atingido a minha arvore uma primeira vez.
Quando passamos a curtir os bailes, eu já havia completado os quatorze verões e tinha uma dívida com o sexo oposto, por esse tempo eu devorava tudo o que se seguia em minha reta, não precisava ser bonita, se tivesse um corpo mais ou menos…o jacaré virava bolsa, paguei com juros e correções monetárias.

A Beth já havia comemorado seus vinte e quatro anos, quando me viu num baile na Santa Bárbara, entre os “Neguinhos do Educa’, disse que foi tomada de um inexplicável amor à primeira vista, me soou meio brega isso, mas relevei, uma pessoa com mais dez anos da minha idade, era bem provável que soubesse muito da matéria que me interessava nessa época, o sexo.
Ficamos e saímos pelas madrugadas e com o tempo fui descobrindo fatos de sua vida, que já era mãe e já havia tido uma união estável, a separação se deu por conta de seu cônjuge ter se tornado traficante, aliás, no começo dos anos 80, essas pessoas eram chamadas de contrabandistas.

Ah, o dito cujo fazia parte da gangue do Pivete, aquela turma que apavorava toda a vizinhança por esse tempo.
Num baile na favela do Uirapuru, me foi apresentado o ex da moça, assim que lhe apertei a mão, tomei um susto, ele também se assustou e juntos, demos um passo para trás…O raio havia caído de novo.
Foi como se eu me visse no espelho, os meus amigos e os amigos dele esfregaram os olhos e a Beth ria.

Um silêncio se fez, ficamos a nos olhar, pasmos e aturdidos…absolutamente tudo igual, até a altura.
_Prazer, Adir.
_Prazer, Niltão.
_Que doideira.
_Cara, você é bonito.

Se eu não dissesse uma besteira dessas, acabaria perdendo a minha identidade, as mais de 50 pessoas que estavam a ver a cena, contorceram-se de rir.
Então, como nem tudo na vida são flores, passei a ficar com medo de passear pelo João XXIII, numa dessas vai que…
Porém o medo não era tanto que pudesse me esquecer da satisfação dos carinhos da Beth e, é claro, continuei saindo com ela.

Conheci o pai dela, um trabalhador que saía de madrugada para trabalhar no Metrô, foi difícil colocar na cabeça dele que eu não era o Adir, aquele sujeito, que na cabeça dele, havia levado a sua filha para o mau caminho. Era de praxe, terminada a noitada, levávamos as moças para casa delas, somente quando a última era entregue, seguíamos para o pavilhão, todo o bando junto.

De frente do Attiê, existia um bar, ao lado desse, uma rua principiava uma queda e se descia para uma várzea, essa rua seguia até um escadão murado, que dava na rua Santa Bárbara, a Beth morava ali e era a última mina a ser entregue, o bando todo ficaria ao pé do escadão e eu levaria a moça em casa, uns beijinhos, umas afofadas e ia embora, tranquilo e calmo.

Depois dos beijos e carinhos, desci o escadão, os amigos estavam em frente ao posto de madeira, ouvi gritos nas minhas costas e me virei.

Era o pai da moça, eram umas 6 horas e o sol ainda não havia se apresentado, por conta disso, demorei a perceber o que ele trazia na mão direita, os amigos sumiram numa corrida e adivinhando o que ele carregava, apressei o passo.
Ele estava caindo de bêbado e gritava palavras desconexas, só se entendia que ele falava o nome do Adir.
Eu já corria, quando enfim entendi o que ele falava:
_Adir, seu filho da puta…vou beber o teu sangue.

Naquele corredor fechado o barulho do tiro foi ensurdecedor, quando dobrei a esquina, o tiro estraçalhou no poste de madeira, menos de um dedo do meu nariz, ganhei a rua e encontrei os amigos no Atite, mais dois tiros foram deflagrados e ele ainda gritava.
Na volta para o Educa, jurei que nunca mais ia para nenhum baile, aquilo era muito perigoso…no sábado seguinte, o Paulo fazia o melhor de todos os bailes da região, na hora da lenta beijei a boca da menina que eu nem conhecia e agradeci a Deus pela linda juventude.

Happy Birthday Obasanjo | Sijuade Abiodun Oluwajana

Agitation for Sovereign National Conference Was Not Meant To Break Nigeria’.

Former President, Chief Olusegun Obasanjo traces the history of the Oodua Peoples Congress at the first anniversary to honour the memory of its founder, Dr. Frederick.

The remote cause for the establishment of OPC was the annulment of June 12, 1993 election and the immediate cause was Abacha’s heavy boot actions to actualise his permanent succession plan and programme.

Frederick put it thus, “A people as numerically strong, educationally powerful and legendarily sophisticated as the Yorubas lost out in the game of evils… It occurred to me that a recurrence must be pre-emptively countervailed”. The idea was to establish a socio-cultural organisation as a pressure group. His first meeting was with three market leaders in Mushin – Mrs. Ogunbowale alias Iya Ijebu, Alhaji Ibrahim alias Baba Oja, and Mr. Taiwo.

An unpretentious personality and good mixer, he quickly immersed himself into the community. His proclivity towards Yoruba culture stood him out. Though he was learned and well-travelled, he thought nothing of freely associating himself with artisans and people, who were beneath his social status. He stood out as a beacon of hope for the less-privileged in that neighbourhood, at first. As his community engagement increased, a greater responsibility of taking up the fight for the larger Yoruba nation was thrust on him. Two weeks later, he had another meeting to bring more market women and men on board and, on that occasion, popular vote chose Oodua Peoples Congress, OPC, as the name of the new organisation.

The first difficulty of the organisation was the membership process which initially hit the brick wall but was somehow surmounted. Some more educated individuals who wanted to join felt discouraged by the low literacy of the pioneer members. With Frederick and Beko Ransoke-Kuti both of Campaign for Democracy working together, more educated people like Barrister Omodele, Baba Omojola and Barrister Femi Falana in addition to some students from University of Ife (now Obafemi Awolowo University, OAU) joined the Congress.

Apart from seeking to protect, to defend and to promote Yoruba interest, OPC, as established by Frederick had no subversive, violent or treasonable programmes or plans, rather it expanded its demands to include issues like Sovereign National Conference and change in revenue allocation formula to embrace derivation principle. It was surely not an insurgent organisation. With such noble and attractive objectives, important personalities like Kudirat Abiola, Alhaja Kudirat Alao Aka-Bashorun and Tunji Braithwaite joined. OPC was thriving and with Frederick as a vocal member of Campaign for Democracy, a member of NADECO, founder of OPC, refusing to serve in Abacha’s Committee which Professor Sam Aluko, a distinguished economist, chaired, he was marked out for destruction.

After a Lecture titled, “Nigeria, Party Politics and Agenda for the Fourth Republic” at Ilorin in 1996, Dr. Fasehun’s hospital was stormed and he was taken away for interrogation on December 18, 1996. He had anticipated that it would come to that especially with Obasanjo, Shehu Yar’Adua, Beko Ransome-Kuti, Christ Anyanwu and Shehu Sani already put in jail. After ransacking the hospital, the SSS boys took him away for interrogation. After that, they put him in the Intercentre, a special SSS detention outfit at Ikoyi, the experience of which I had in 1995. His detention went from one month to two and from two to three. And no end yet, rather he was taken before Zakari Biu, an Assistant Commissioner of Police, who showed him a bit of police brutality before he was asked to write all he knew about NADECO, Wole Soyinka, Alani Akinrinade and Chief Enahoro.

By the time the detention was over after the death of Abacha, damage has been done to the detainee’s property, psyche, and whatever he was supervising or over-sighting which have been left unattended or left in wrong hands. That was my own personal experience and situation as well when I was imprisoned by Abacha. With Frederick, OPC suffered from his detention. Taiwo, who was one of the pioneer members, tried his best to run the outfit but he was overwhelmed. During that period, Ganiyu Adam joined up and under him, a brand of young hot-heads came together to form a youth wing in the OPC. Quality has been sacrificed for alloy. Disorder pervaded instead of orderliness. Gani Adam cashed in and Frederick came home to a divided OPC between Taiwo and Ogunbowale group and Gani Adam group. As Frederick saw, “Both groups wore the toga of illiteracy for different reasons… Discussions revolved on what charms to wear to confront law-enforcement agents, how to wear them, how to hold them in place and so on.” Frederick precisely described the OPC that I found when I became elected President in 1999 and I kept my distance from them. I would have nothing to do with such a group. And that remained my position until Prince Osibote came to me about the end of 2019 to tell me that it is now a new OPC which is following the objectives and programmes of Dr. Fasehun. Frederick could not accept and live with what he met of OPC when he came back from detention and he was not able to change and reform it before he died, although he tried to seek employment for some of them. As a Christian, he abhorred what he met which was not in line with his objectives and purposes. But I must say that there is still room and need for the type of OPC that Dr. Fasehun originally established with relevant modification of objectives in light of present day Nigerian situation.

Dr. Fasehun made three cogent political points about OPC. One, agitating for Sovereign National Conference is not meant to break Nigeria up but to strengthen its unity on the basis of justice, equity, mutual respect and healthy competition among the constituent units. Two, with MKO Abiola’s death in detention, the agitation by OPC for Abiola to be released to take office as elected President was buried. Three, he also alleged that Chief Gani Fawehinmi working in collaboration with Dupe Onitiri-Abiola made contribution to the fractionalisation of OPC.

On most of the occasions that Dr. Fasehun came to me to unburden his mind about Nigerian situation, he left me in no doubt for his patriotism and concern for Nigeria which is vividly brought out in poetry – ‘My Country’ by him.

Fasehun was gentle and meek but irrepressible as far as national issues were concerned. When Abacha unleashed his reign of terror and began his mad self-succession programme, even great nationalists like Bola Ige got fed up with a ridiculous situation where five political parties nominated the same candidate – Abacha as their candidate for the election which Bola described as five leprous fingers and adopted ‘sidon look’ attitude, Fasehun stood up with Oodua Peoples Congress, OPC, to confront and fight the menace of Abacha.

Let me put myself in position of Dr. Fasehun today, if he were alive and only on two current issues of national importance – security and political structure. When he was alive, both were of great concern to him. What I say from now on could be attributed to him if he were alive or could be shared by both of us as he unburdened his mind to me on a number of occasions when he was here with us.

The first duty and responsibility of a leader of any human community or organisation is security of life and property of all the members of the community, the organisation or the society. From time immemorial, this started as individual, developed into family, settlement, community, national, multi-national and alliances. These are all to strengthen, enhance and guarantee total security. For every individual or family, there are layers of security apparatus and arrangement. They are complementary and supplementary. The inadequate ones are buoyed up by others to ensure adequacy of security. There is no doubt that the national security architecture, apparatus, system and arrangements in Nigeria today have failed to measure up to the needs of the citizens in different parts of the country. Hon. Yakubu Dogara, with his understanding as a former Speaker of the House of Representatives, on February 6, 2020, put it graphically, “From Boko Haram-ISWAP led by Al-Barnawi, Boko Haram led by Shekau and Ansaru insurgency to farmers/herders conflict, banditry, kidnappings, ethno-religious conflicts, cattle rustling, etc, we are confronted with a crisis that is unparalleled in our history. The death spiral appears unstoppable.” Even the President himself confessed that he was shocked to come to know that things are that bad.

The Governors in different States of the country as the Chief Security Officers of their respective states were taking measures to enhance and buoy up security for their citizens. These measures vary from paying off bandits, to hunting them down with vigilantes and hunters and to innovative joint efforts like Amotekun. What these governors have shown was that they were concerned and they cared. I would not know if any of them was shocked but most of them took steps as they deemed fit to enhance the security of life and property for their citizens and to augment the failing and inadequate security provided at the national level. Whatever we may feel individually or collectively by these different measures, these governors must be commended and where necessary, they should be helped to refine and make robust and efficient the effective measures they have taken, from Katsina to Zamfara, from Adamawa to Benue and from South East to South West. From my personal observation as I talked to people and people across the board talked to me, nothing has united the people of South West like Amotekun since independence except independence itself. Not even the civil war was such a unifier.

I commend the Governors of South West for their bold and courageous measure taken beyond political party affiliation to improve security architecture and care for their citizens. I particularly commend Governor Seyi Makinde of Oyo State for his leadership on this matter and for sharing their thinking with me. Security measures are never static and security is the responsibility of all of us but by appointment and elections, some have more responsibility than others.

It is instructive to note that the Nigerian Supreme Council for Islamic Affairs (NSCIA), under the leadership of Sultan of Sokoto, became extremely worried about the level of insecurity in the country and then called on President Buhari to declare a state of emergency for security in the country. The NSCIA has followed the line of other organisations, institutions and individuals who have expressed dismay and disappointment at the level of insecurity and criminality all over the country as if there is no government in charge in this country. Calling for an emergency is a wake-up call for the Federal Government to know the magnitude of the level of insecurity and to take effective measure or measures to stem the tide. The Northern Elders Forum has spoken out on the pervasive insecurity in the nation. The Governor of Borno, Babagana Umara Zulum, has pointed out that in his eight months in office, Auno, a community in his state, has been attacked six times.

The Governors of South West acted, believing that Amotekun is one of the necessary measures. And most people of the South West support them. I will strongly advise that Amotekun and other measures put in place should continue to be refined and improved upon to serve as adequate complement and enhancer of present, disappointing and inadequate, national security architecture and provision. We must learn from the past particularly from Native Authority Police. Professionalism and adequate equipment for the job are imperative for a serious security apparatus. Security is the foundation of all human development and progress. Common assured security should lead to common and shared prosperity and development. There has been embarrassing paralysis and katakata in the present nation’s security house as if we have nobody in charge. If it had happened before, it was not so brazenly in the public domain. This type of situation cannot do credit to us as Nigerians and it can only sap confidence in the security architecture for people to say, ‘no wonder’. The President must accept the challenge and the responsibility.

This year 2020, is the year set aside by the African Union, AU, in its agenda to silence the guns. If we don’t silence the guns in our own land as contribution to AU agenda, guns will continue to silence us individually and collectively. Let our leaders particularly be bridge builders rather than wall builders, more of peace-makers than peace-talkers. War-mongering, conflict-encouragement, threats and intimidation, exclusion rather than inclusion and lack of justice, harmony, wholesomeness, cooperation, security, well-being and common prosperity can only lead to our being piecemeal looted, consumed and destroyed.

Breathing You | By Darrell Godbold

It’s a well-intentioned approach of a feeling that I have for you that’s not so very hard to do

Because you’ve promised me in the moonlights trudge that you’ll always love me throughout the starlit pitch darkness of every night

Until the eye awakening sunrise at dawn has risen that has caused us both to intensely yawn and the bedroom windows Beige Venetian blinds have sliced the glare of the early morning sunlight

Breathing you

Though suffocating at times, is so romantically easy to do

Especially when I’ve been impressed of the portrait that I see after you’ve just stepped out of the steaming clangour of a pouring hot rain of a marbled floor bathroom’s shower

Dried your curvaceous horizons off and shadowed your lovely soft soul with a rose essential oil giving you the perfect sweetly scent of a mirages flower

Breathing you

It causes this special reoccurring effect, when I’m inhaling intoxicating breaths of you that are much deeper than the abysses of love and the feelings become a virtual reality, so true

And when I’m about to reach out to the threshold of exhaling your magnificent mystiques of pleasure

Time stands still in every direction motionless and that breath escapes and perplexes me into a slow motion so that I can make the most of the teasing joy that the fulfillment of that moment makes, that I sufficiently treasure

Breathing you

Are you allowing me to share your ulterior motives, heartfelt love, faith and trust, a complex must, also those frequented tears when it comes to your heartaches and agoraphobia fears, because I want to be the one by your side when its necessary to pull the moment and you through?

Can’t you understand it peachy sweet, how much I really do care about you and our infinite destiny and I’m selfishly wanting all of your intangible assets and smiles for myself

Please hurry up this way again, so that my incontrovertible love for you won’t become an antiquity on an undiscovered ice shelf

Breathing you

Deeper and deeper when we’re so close together that there’s less than a breath between us or when I put my arms around your enchanting waist and have a look at what my mind has drew

And that magic blue rose in your hair says to you, do you see me and if you do please come closer

So, I do and we’re cheek to cheek yes those or the others, suddenly breathing you gets exponentially better, we should camera capture this moment by becoming a poser

Breathing you

Is an oxygen of love?

Sweetening my smiles elucidate expressions when I see you, not just only a few

But an assimilated trance that just gives me a lot more about you to think of


© 2020 Darrell Godbold

O Professor | Escrito por Nilton Victorino Filho

Antes de falar do Max, quero relembrar alguns mestres do grupo do Educandário Dom Duarte, porque eram corajosos esses, aturar alunos que estavam em classe pra fazer algazarra, não é trabalho fácil.
Em 1978, havia uma sexta-série terrível, em meus anos de estudo nunca vi uma turma como aquela, eram 32 alunos, 30 internos e dois externos. Não vou tentar enumerar todos os alunos, fazendo isso, corro o risco de esquecer algum, porém, se alguém que ler se identificar com os fatos, pode dizer em comentário, que fez parte dessa turma, mas vou lembrar-me da lista de chamada desta sala…

Havia cinco Joãos… João Pinheiro (do 17), João Rosinha (do 13), João Cavallo (do 19), João de Bunda (do 24) e João Lucena (do 14).
Entre os meninos, somente dois não eram internos, o Luciano e o Claudio Matão que eram filhos do seu Matos do forno, mas esses, por serem filhos de funcionário, tinham o comportamento igual ao dos internos, portanto, quando a professora Anésia passava um descompostura, eles estavam junto no bolinho. Anésia era professora de Educação Artística, daquelas professoras que não tem medo de cara feia, se alguém gritasse ela devolvia na mesma moeda, levava as aulas no cabresto, a grande estatura dela intimidava qualquer aluno mais afoito, não obstante, era de uma ternura sem medida.

A professora Cristina lecionava Inglês, muito linda mesmo, ensinava fácil e usava sempre uma música pra assimilar a matéria, às vezes, no meio da bagunça, ela parava em sua mesa e fazia um rosto muito triste, a ver a professora desse jeito, a bagunça cessava e ela voltava a sua aula.
Fala sério, ninguém aguenta uma mulher linda, triste. O professor de Matemática era o Nadinho, esse, quando morrer vai pro céu sem escalas… nunca vi um sujeito ter a paciência igual, sempre tinha um aluno que fazia piada de sua careca e ele permanecia calmo e dava aula sorrindo de tudo e, o pior, ensinava mesmo.

Eram professores que não se vê mais por ai, cujo objetivo maior é o de ensinar.
Começamos as aulas, na última sala, de quem sai da diretoria e vai ao corredor à esquerda, em dois meses, por conta da bagunça, fomos transferidos para aquela sala que ficava fora da escola, feita de madeira.

Na época não havia sido construída a cozinha central, toda essa terra onde agora é a cozinha e o prédio da OZEM, era o milharal do lar 21.
Sabe-se que, em época de milho seco, é de costume tocar fogo no milharal… alguns meninos aproveitaram o fogo e queimaram a tal sala. Alguns alunos alegaram que estavam sendo discriminados, postos numa sala fora da escola.

Bom, não vou entrar muito nesse assunto pra não fornecer provas contra a minha pessoa… Teve, o diretor Sergio, que voltar a alojar a sexta-série dentro da escola e para que pudesse controlar melhor, realocou-os na primeira sala ao lado direito da diretoria.
Essa medida não fez muito efeito, posto que, o diretor não punha medo em nenhum aluno.

Sou sistemático, já à época o era, em qualquer sala que estudo, me sento na segunda cadeira da fileira à esquerda da lousa, se ela estiver ocupada eu negocio até ela me pertencer. A coisa estava tão sem saída, que eu já havia me mudado pro fundão, já que ninguém queria estudar, eu é que não seria o único, troquei de lugar com o Augusto e me tornei mais um bagunceiro da sala.

A dona Aimar lecionava Estudos Sociais, não tinha muita paciência e isso fazia da matéria a menos querida entre os alunos, já tinha certa idade e estava gravida, logo no começo da prenhe, entrou de licença e ficou a sala sem professor… Ótimo, muitas aulas vagas.
O diretor Sergio se empenhou em procurar um substituto para o cargo, sentados no bambuzal, tendo o lago aos nossos pés, curtíamos nossas folgas escolares e especulávamos acerca do novo professor, é claro que a folga já acabaria.

A solução viria num nome já conhecido, o Maximino era irmão do Domingão diretor do Educa, a autoridade maior do colégio, esse era o ponto negativo, e como ele já lecionava no Guiomar, fomos lá saber sobre o novo professor.

Ali, ele tinha a fama de ser o mais querido entre os alunos, disseram-nos que dava gosto as aulas dele e olhe que, lá ele ensinava Matemática. E me desculpe quem gosta, mas, não entra na minha cabeça, achar agradável uma aula de Matemática.
O ponto positivo a favor do Max era o fato de ele ser casado com a mais linda entre as mulheres do Educa, sua esposa era a Lucia, filha do seu João do lar 13.

Entrou na sala de aula, vestindo um conjunto de blusa e calças jeans, bem despojado pra época, posto que, combinava com o seu cavanhaque e aquelas botas de bico fino, disse boa noite e sorriu com ar de quem está no comando e, comando para ele, não tinha nada a ver com autoridade, ele tinha presença firme e carisma, escreveu o nome na lousa e permaneceu em pé, olhando firmes os rostos dos bagunceiros, a primeira batalha estava ganha.

Era habito dos meninos da época gostar filmes de artes marciais, bangue-bangue e principalmente de guerra, portanto, em silêncio, esperavam a atitude do professor, conforme as atitudes dele viriam às reações.
Lá do fundão, observei que ele estava tranquilo, feito alguém que está com uma carta na manga.

Puxou da mochila de couro, o livro de Estudos Sociais, perguntou em que ponto havíamos parado, perguntou por perguntar, sabia que ninguém responderia, ao acaso, escolheu um ponto e pediu que alguém lesse, assim que alguém lia um paragrafo ele explicava e seguia o texto com outro leitor, ao fim do paragrafo ele explicava, com calma e com palavras fáceis.

Esse capítulo fazia parte da história da guerra dos emboabas, e esse ponto se chama “O capão da traição”, conforme as coisas se desenvolvem, os meninos vão dando atenção e se envolvendo na narrativa.
Portugueses e Paulistas numa rivalidade, pra saber a quem pertencia a terra, entram em conflito, toda a sala em silêncio, tentando imaginar a cena, o professor tem os alunos em suas mãos, ninguém fala nada, sentado em cima da mesa ele tem a certeza que todos o ouvem. E vai a narrativa, como quem narra um documentário:
Estão frente a frente, armas em punho, os portugueses na parte mais alta do capão, os valentes paulistas, em menor número e na parte inferior, não se entregam, antes morrer, a se entregarem…

Os meninos sorriem, entendem a bravura dos seus antepassados, se ajeitam nas cadeiras pra ouvir melhor.
Nesse instante, o diretor Sergio invade a sala e vê uma cena que jamais imaginaria ver, todos os alunos em suas respectivas cadeiras e em silêncio, atônito e contrariado não diz nada, o professor lhe sorri tranquilo, o diretor sai coçando a cabeça e bate a porta atrás de si. Geralmente, essa cena seria encarada com uma vaia, por parte dos meninos e começaria uma festa, mas nada, nenhum comentário a respeito da sandice do diretor, todos os olhos ainda estão fixados no professor.

Os portugueses pedem trégua, se os paulistas abaixarem as armas não serão tratados com hostilidades, tudo será perdoado.
São homens de honra, os paulistas e aceitam a palavra empenhada, depõem as armas…

No capão existe uma enorme vala, é ali que estão os paulistas, assim que o último paulista entrega a arma, os portugueses abrem fogo. Há um descontentamento geral na sala, vaias e indignação por todo lado, um guri mais empolgado grita a plenos pulmões.
_Portugueses filhos da puta.

O professor, muito calmo, responde às perguntas que não são poucas, todos querem falar ao mesmo tempo, me levanto do fundão e volto pra minha carteira.

If | by Tissy Taylor

If I could see forever
Your face when I close my eyes
The rhythm of your heartbeat
Feel your trembling hand in mine

Soar like the mighty heavens
Swoop you gently in my arms
Press my lips upon your cheek
For your love to keep me warm

If I could have one more day
Oh how joyful I would be
I will write a song for you
To tell you how I feel

Let’s dance among the willows
And rejoice their naked breath
Pretend for one more hour
You have never left me…yet

Tiros Na Noite | Escrito por Nilton Victorino Filho

Os cenários mudam, a vida é uma evolução e, devemos vivê-la plenamente… num sentido mais pleno, a vida é um aprendizado, mesmo quando viramos a cara, ela nos dá ensinamentos.

As tardes ociosas do pavilhão 14 me deram as aventuras com os amigos e um gosto pelo viver, mesmo quando sozinho, sabia que ia crescer e ser livre, as tardes também me deram a trilha sonora da infância. No teatro do Educandário Dom Duarte, uma fina seleção musical era exibida e, aonde que eu me encontrasse, essas músicas me acompanhavam, no fim, viraram a trilha sonora da minha adolescência. Dentre essas músicas, algumas da banda “The Commodores” e, entre essas, “Sail on” era a minha predileta, daí por diante, sempre que ela fosse exibida, eu daria uma atenção especial, ainda hoje, ela mexe comigo.

Nas imediações do teatro, eu cantava para acompanhar o Lionel, mais tarde, nos bailes, eu tirava uma dama e cantava no ouvido dela. Como eu disse, a vida é evolução e, eu cresci… estamos em 1982, moro no pavilhão 22, estudando no Vidigal e trabalhando na P.G.E, não era mais o coadjuvante de costume, não buscava mais a gloria no futebol, o coração das meninas, agora me movia.

Ainda que o mundo tivesse alargado e ultrapassado as fronteiras do E.D.D, a sorte me protegia e os amigos ainda eram os mesmos, na escola, nos bailes e nas ruas, costumávamos andar em bando. Um dia, uns alunos encrenqueiros resolveram fazer bulling com o Flávio do 16, esse tinha o apelido de Fú, o apelido era uma alusão ao personagem da série da TV que se chamava “Kung Fú”, posto que, o Flávio, como o personagem, andava sempre com os cabelos cortados à zero.
Assim que fizeram a rodinha em volta dele, os outros amigos correram a me procurar pela escola.

Eu estava perto da quadra, abraçado à Lúcia, assim que me avistaram, me contaram do que estava ocorrendo, esses amigos eram: O Djalma do 15, o Coquinho do 24, o João Augusto do 12, o Pelezinho do 12, assim que soube do ocorrido, corri em socorro do amigo. O Fú era pequeno para a idade e estava rodeado por cinco valentões, em volta do círculo deles, os outros alunos formaram uma barreira e deu trabalho furá-la, empurrei os outros elementos e fiquei frente a frente com o líder, perguntei o que o meu amigo havia feito e antes que ele respondesse, já havia lhe desferido um soco na boca.

As poucas coisas que sabíamos sobre ele era que morava no Parque do Lago, gostava de andar com malandros e tinha o apelido de Vassoura. Agora estávamos frente a frente, os meus amigos nas minhas costas, os amigos dele às suas costas e o resto dos alunos nos circundavam e torciam em silêncio, do lábio do meu oponente escorria um filete de sangue, a adrenalina fazia o meu suor escorrer, ambos mantínhamos os pulsos em frente ao rosto e olhávamo-nos.

Como eu já havia atacado fiquei esperando o movimento que partiria dele, ele arfava de raiva, os olhos lagrimejavam, me mantive calmo, qualquer coisa que ele fizesse seria em desespero, assim que ele se projetou em minha direção e a sua mão direita procurou o meu rosto me esquivei, um segundo soco e mais uma esquiva, quando voltei a me levantar, segurei os braços perdidos dele e, como ele havia aberto mão da defesa, inclinei o dorso para trás e joguei a minha cabeça na direção dele, a minha testa atingiu em cheio o nariz, quando ele tombou houveram gritos e a pequena multidão se abriu, no meio da multidão apareceu a Sonia, que era a inspetora do pátio e todos chamavam de “Monga”.

Queria saber o motivo da balburdia, o Vassoura já havia se levantado e tinha uma camisa na mão, limpava o sangue, que agora, também lhe escorria do nariz, a inspetora perguntou e ele nada disse, olhou para mim e eu fiz cara de que não sabia de nada, ele saiu em direção à sala de aula, achei a Lúcia no pátio e voltamos para a quadra. Na hora da saída, todos os internos ficaram me esperando sair da escola, mesmo os que não haviam participado na hora do recreio, feito o Gil do 20 e o Miguel do 13.

Atravessamos as ruas do Peri-Peri, éramos uns 15 e sabíamos que quando chegássemos ao ponto da Raposo Tavares, nos encontraríamos com os moleques do Parque do Lago e seria uma briga épica. E, como eu digo sempre, posso não ter amealhado dinheiro na minha jornada, mas, a sorte sempre foi minha companheira.
Naquela sexta-feira, todos os internos que estudavam em Pinheiros resolveram nos visitar, na verdade, eles vieram atrás das meninas do Vidigal, o total da turma subiu para uns 35, os caras do Lago sumiram. Lógico que a coisa toda se empurrava para a segunda feira, mas a sorte é má conselheira, ela te tira o medo, vestido nela você pensa que nada, nunca te fará mal.

No 12 da Raposo Tavares, havia o “Pombal”, um salão improvisado que a equipe D’Paulus dava um som muito bom, sábado à noite era o dia. Enquanto eu me aprontava, o Djalma usava toda sorte de argumentos para me demover da cabeça a ideia de ir para lá, já que, a turma do Parque do Lago costumava frequentar aquele salão.

Disse-lhe que não deixaria de ir a lugar algum, por medo de alguém, se fizesse isso, seria refém do medo e não poderia sair nunca mais, já que não conseguiu me fazer mudar de ideia, ele iria para me acompanhar. Era bom mesmo, o som do D’Paulus, assim que entrei na pista percebi que uns olhos grandes e castanhos me seguiram, já me pus à disposição da dama, larguei a turma e fui até ela, queria saber se estava sozinha, não eram só os olhos mais lindos que eu já havia visto, ela era toda linda e, exalava um odor de Lavanda.

Ainda tocava um balanço e ela já havia contado parte de sua vida, quando eu já me aproximava do beijo, o Djalma me bateu no ombro e disse que o Vassoura estava lá fora, eu disse para a moça que já voltava, só iria lá fora, resolver um probleminha.
A turma reunida se encaminhava para a porta de saída, o Djalma me puxava e eu olhava os enormes olhos castanhos, a música dava seus últimos acordes, fez-se um silêncio e pôde-se ouvir a agulha cair no vinil, o som foi subindo… Sail on down the line, ’bout…

Livrei-me do Djalma e empolgado com a música tirei a dama dos olhos castanhos, nada poderia ser mais importante que isso, colei meu corpo ao dela, repousei a mão esquerda no rosto dela e a direita na cintura, minha face se uniu à dela e cantei a letra em seu ouvido, conforme a música, nossos corpos floreavam no ritmo, o mundo não tinha qualquer sentido, isso era viver e seria também a melhor das mortes.
Sempre que tocava essa música eu me levava em mente no tempo dela, então, na imaginação levei a dama dos olhos castanhos direto para o teatro do Educandário Dom Duarte. Quando a música chegou ao fim, encaminhei a moça para a companhia das amigas delas e me desculpei, tinha mesmo que sair.

Á meio caminho da porta de saída, soaram quatro tiros e houve pânico no salão, algumas pessoas entraram para se abrigar, saímos e vimos um corpo no chão e conversas desencontradas, chegamos mais perto e pudemos ver o rosto da vítima… o tal do Vassoura agonizava numa enorme poça de sangue, em sua mão havia um revolver carregado. Disseram-nos que, o outro sacou mais rápido… 4 minutos, foi o tempo que durou a música, 4 minutos de atraso com o inevitável. Maria era o nome da moça dos olhos castanhos, nunca mais a vi e, até hoje, nem sei se ela existiu mesmo.

O Melhor Dos Amigos |Escrito por Nilton Victorino Filho

Amigo é coisa de alma, você conhece a pessoa e sabe que vão caminhar e evoluir juntos. No caso do meu amigo Viana, a coisa aconteceu diferente, logo que cheguei no Educandário Dom Duarte, veio a repulsa e…Pah. Saímos no braço e, junto com ele, peguei o meu primeiro castigo no corredor, o castigo era pra ser até a meia noite, nós dois em pé e o vigilante Nenê em sua mesinha, lá pras 21 horas, ele ferrou no sono, roncava e bufava e, com intervalos de minutos, peidava.

Assistindo aquela cena bizarra, segurando a boca com as mãos, rimos a valer, depois de um tempo veio a primeira armação da dupla, sem combinar nada, entramos pro segundo quarto e fomos dormir.
Lá pras 5 horas da manhã, como éramos vizinhos de cama, o vigilante nos sacudia, nos perguntou o que é que fazíamos deitados, na maior cara dura, o Viana disse:
_À meia noite em ponto, o senhor nos liberou do castigo.
_Foi mesmo, não se lembra? Disse eu, ainda sonolento.

Fazia frio, além do gorrinho que lhe tapava as orelhas, ele estava embrulhado num cobertor ordinário, tirou o gorro da cabeça, os olhos vermelhos de quem acabara de acordar, contrariado coçou a cabeça, ficou um tempo a nos fitar, creio que tentava buscar a cena na memória, depois duns breves segundos, sorriu e nos pediu desculpas.

Já os meninos estavam todos acordados, de desaforo, o Odilon deu-nos a obrigação de limpar o banheirão, essa seria a nossa escala a partir daquele dia, fomos sem nos olhar, começamos a limpeza em silêncio, a cara do vigilante a nos perseguir na memória, a cabo de alguns minutos não aguentamos mais e desatamos em gargalhadas, o Sergio passou no corredor e nos viu caídos no chão, abraçados e rindo, deu de ombros e disse:
_Ontem estavam se matando… só tem doido nesse lugar.

E rimos mais ainda, começava ali, a história da dupla dinâmica do 14. Não nos largamos mais, às vezes em trio, quarteto ou em bando, mas sempre a corda e a caçamba. Nessa época, eu já era viciado em leitura, alguns adultos, feito o seu Tinoco, o seu Felipe da portaria e o Ditinho, compravam livros em sebos e me davam, meu armário não tinha espaço pra roupas, era abarrotado de livros.

Para conseguir lê-los, tinha que fugir do amigo, procurar um lugar calmo e desfrutar da leitura, eu ficava no bosque, deitado à sombra da Araucária, enquanto os amigos batiam as proximidades à minha procura.
Ganhei o “São Bernardo” do Graciliano Ramos do seu Tinoco e usando as palavras dele, me acabei na leitura, puro deleite.
Li esse livro em dois dias e, como fiquei sumido nesse meio tempo, pra me desculpar, contei a história todinha pro amigo, tudo mesmo, todos os detalhes dos personagens e a implicação política desta maravilhosa obra do autor alagoano.

Éramos muito diferentes, como dois lados de uma moeda, intelecto e habilidade em corpos diferentes, ele admirava a minha capacidade de assimilação e eu admirava a sua capacidade prática, em tudo o que eu não tinha habilidade motora, ele era craque.
Passaram-se alguns anos, nós já no 22, comecei a participar de reuniões estudantis, o amigo me seguiu, disse que estava preocupado com os rumos do país, toda aquela conversa pra boi dormir e tal e coisa, depois soltou uma sonora gargalhada e disse;
_Cara, tô louco pra dar um sal nas estudantes.
Anos atrás, fiz uma palestra pra jovens estudantes e me perguntaram qual era a motivação do jovem da periferia na luta contra a ditadura, respondi na bucha:
_As calças apertadas das estudantes. A plateia veio abaixo, os risos duraram uns cinco minutos.

Voltando a história, esperávamos nas escadas do Santa Amália e pra impressionar uma loirinha, o Viana começou a debater com um estudante, o tema era Graciliano Ramos, o outro falava e o Viana rebatia, parei e fiquei admirando a contenda, orgulhoso do amigo, discorreu sobre tudo com maestria e tudo com palavras simples, acaba que ganhou a disputa, como consequência, levou a loirinha pra um rolê.
Voltou da Fradique Coutinho cheio de marra, dentro do ônibus da Castro, eu disse:
_Caramba neguinho, nunca imaginei que você fosse acabar lendo o livro, fiquei orgulhoso de você.
No fim de uma gargalhada, ele me saiu com essa:
_Ler? Eu não li nada, tudo o que eu falei foi o que você havia me dito.

Historic Ship of The Past |By Sharnie Ivery

So you mean to tell me that someone down your ancestry line survived being chained to other human bodies for several months in the bottom of a disease-infested ship during the Middle Passage, lost their language, customs and traditions, picked up the English language as best they could while working free of charge from sunup to sundown as they watched babies sold from out of their arms and women raped by ruthless slave owners. Took names with no last names, no birth certificates, no heritage of any kind, braved the Underground Railroad, survived the Civil War to enter into sharecropping. Learned to read and write out of sheer will and determination, faced the burning crosses of the KKK, everted their eyes at the black bodies swinging from ropes hung on trees…

Fought in World Wars as soldiers to return to America as boys, marched in Birmingham, hosed in Selma, jailed in Wilmington, assassinated in Memphis, segregated in the South, ghettoed in the North, ignored in history books, stereotyped in Hollywood….and in spite of it all someone in your family line endured every era to make sure you would get here and you receive one rejection, face one obstacle, lose one friend, get overlooked, and you want to quit? How dare you entertain the very thought of quitting. People, you will never know survived from generation to generation so you could succeed. Don’t you dare let them down!

Give this to your young people who don’t know their history and want to get weak!It is NOT in our DNA to quit! ELEVATE AND PROSPER!

My Father | By Brotherhood of Sincerity Member

I Love You My Father

Thank you for your strong hands and heated breath of life

You have lifted me up from the dirt and molded me into a man I’m today

Every night I look at myself in the mirror and I see you

Every day, I see you through my eyes

Your wide nostrils

I see your smile

You always live within me

I don’t remember you

I never physically seen

But, you always guiding me

I see your face within me

Whispers telling me its going to be okay

Father I miss you

You are my declaration that gives me life

You allowed me to experience the rain, wind and the Earth

Because of you, I now breath  

Because of you, I work and I’m a success

Because of you, I have conquered goals will continue to conquer them

I love you

You are everywhere now

You have reincarnated yourself into multiple living organisms from this Earth

Just to see, guide, and protect me

You have always been distance since my first light

But you always been near

You are a protector

I love you father

I miss you father

I thank you father

I’m grateful to you my father

I honor you

You will always be with me like a distant star just like the Sun,

But you my father always giving me light with life from within.

Why am I The Outcast? | Written by, Darkskyesrising

“Who was I to know
That everybody tires
Of the ones who love them most
Why am I being punished
What did I do wrong
Why do you have to push me away
When I’ve tried so hard for so long
Why can’t I give up on you
When your already so far gone
I’ve secluded myself, I have no one
And you said you want me to move on
Why am I the one 
With the broken heart
Why is your life 
Being ruined
Why won’t family talk to me
Why am I turned away
No one in this world wants love from me
No one has ever stayed
Why have I been outcasted
Why have I been pushed away
Why can’t somebody love me 
Why can they not stay
Is everyone a liar?
Is everyone like you?
Or is it me that’s the tragedy
Why do they hate me more than you

Written by, Darkskyesrising

-Brotherhood of Sincerity

AMAZING BLACK LOVE | By Kenneth Quentin Dillard

I found the most amazing heart inside of the most beautifulest woman in the world, she helped me to find the best parts of me and I helped her to see that true love does exist, in the midst of loving her I tried to resist her warm caring heart and her gentle tender kiss. She showed me that love never fails as long as you put fourth the effort, I had no idea that I would find her and be able to love her the way she needed to be loved. I asked God how do I love one of his angels he said the same way you love me but give her the love that she desires most and she will love you forever. And the day she gave me her heart I gave her mines and the love that we share will last until the end of time because she is my window to the world and when I look at her I see how the world really should be because she is so beautiful and perfect to me. (Thoughts of a Humble Man) ©™

THOUGHTS OF A HUMBLE MAN |Written by Kenneth Quentin Dillard

I could lay here and look into your beautiful eyes all day long baby. I remember the first time I saw you working at the corner store I just had to get to know you, I would come into the store and buy things that I didn’t even need just so I could look into your eyes. Your eyes pierced my skin and went straight to my heart. The funny thing is that I was so afraid to say anything to you but I knew that I had to see you because it was something different about you that I never seen in any other woman that I have come across in my life, it’s like I was drawn to you I could feel it the minute I walk into the store damn you had a Brotha feening.

I remember the first time you came in the store very well you had on some black jeans with a black hoodie and you were looking crazy. I thought you were going to rob the store tbh with you and I remember my manager telling me to keep an eye on you and I did. But the moment you got to the counter and handed me that bag of hot chips you hand touched mines and It was as if the whole room had shifted and for a minute we paused and it was as if everyone in the store vanished and it was just you and I. I never forgot that day because after that I was looking forward to you coming in the store I remember that day that you didn’t come in the store until I was getting off work and out the corner of my eye I saw you come in the store and my eyes lit up so bright but I couldn’t let you know that.

That’s funny that you you said that because I was feeling the same way when I came to the store one day and you were not there and as I was leaving out you walk in looking beautiful as always and that was the first time I said something to you. I was so nervous but I had to speak to you I remember asking you if you were working that day and you turned around and smiled and told me that you were off and I said jokingly “that you should let me take you out so we could get to know each other better” now I didn’t think you were going to respond to what I had said but what you said next made the butterflies in my stomach start to flutter around you said “I was wondering when you were going to ask me that and yes you can” you handed me your number and told me you would be ready at 7 o’clock. I remember walking out of the store as if I had just hit the lottery.

Oh yeah I remember that too because when I got home I asked Alexa to play my Pandora and the first song that played was Best Part by H. E. R and I couldn’t stop smiling and I couldn’t stop thinking about you so I got into the shower and when I was getting out of the shower my phone rang. I remember I was nervous to answer it so I finally did and it was you on the other end my heart began to race and my spirit started to smile you told me that you were on your way so I gave you the address. It was different because normally I wouldn’t let a man know were I live I would meet them in a neutral place with a lot of people like at the park down the street from my house but you were different I felt your comfortable energy that let me knew that I would be safe and I could trust you, so I got dress and put on a little bit of makeup and I was ready I was looking so (FLAWLESS).

Yes you were baby I remember letting you know that I was out side and then the door swung opened and this stunningly beautiful angelic woman stepped out of the door and my mouth dropped wide open your presence commanded attention I remember the the Brotha that was driving by almost crashed his car because he was staring so hard. I opened up the door and when you the scent of your perfume went up my nose and took me to a sensual place in my head and all I could do was shake my head. That night was perfect in every way possible we walked holding hands after dinner just talking for hours and laughing and that day I knew that I couldn’t let you get away from me and you were feeling the same way that I was that was the day that I found my lover and my friend, my wife and my forever. (Thoughts of a Humble Man) ©

Albert Einstein with Black Students

In September 1946, Albert Einstein called racism America’s “worst disease.” Earlier that year, he told students and faculty at Lincoln University in Pennsylvania, the oldest Black college in the Western world, that racial segregation was “not a disease of colored people, but a disease of white people, adding, “I willl not remain silent about it.”

When Albert Einstein moved to America, he was disappointed to see how black people were being treated. Even in his new hometown of Princeton, he observed separation of the white and black societies. Einstein thought of segregation as “unacceptable.”

Albert Einstein rarely accepted honorary doctorates but he did so for Lincoln University, a small historically black college in Pennsylvania in 1946. He also gave a lecture before a small group of students who are seen with him in the photo. Also taught black university students but the press didn’t like to publicise it as the idea of educated equal black people scared the establishment.


Kamala Harris meets with emergency service personnel for an assessment of the wildfires in Fresno, California. Almost 3 million acres have burned throughout California, where the Bay Area has dealt with almost an entire month of a Spare the Air alert, and at least 27 people have died across the west coast. ‘Nobody should be playing political games with this,’ says Harris. ‘The reality is, what Californians, especially those that are losing their homes and people who have family members who have lost their lives, they don’t have any time for photo ops and political games. This needs to be about getting people the resources they need on the ground as quickly as possible.’ Her visit to her home state comes just one day after Pres. Trump met with Gov. Gavin Newsom and other leaders to discuss the ongoing wildfires. During his meeting, the state’s Natural Resources Agency Sec. Wade Crowfoot urged Trump to ‘recognize the changing climate and what it means to our forests.’ Trump responded by saying, ‘it will start getting cooler, just you watch,’ to which Crowfoot pushed back that he wished the scientific evidence agreed with the president. Trump then countered with, ‘I don’t think science knows, actually.’

Please Don’t Go! | By Black Chris Da Great

Like a thunderstorm.
Catastrophic. Torturing anything in its path.
Lightening filled winds.
Terrify and destroy.
While kids get caught in the Aftermath.
Tap tap tap tap.
The pitter patter of little feet.
Racing down the hall.
Crashing through my door.
Snatching me down to the floor.
Teardrops hit my face like rain
Their doing it again.
He’s drunk again.
In her face all I saw was pain.
Consoling, holding.
Don’t worry your safe.
Stay with me.
I tried to stay awake.
Rest broken.
Can’t breathe. Choking.
Open my eyes and can barely see.
Dashing into action.
Grabbing her close.
Jumping over clothes.
Running through fire without a care.
Stumbling tumbling
Passing out….. Thank GOD… Fresh air.
Look Meyah we made it.
Mom’s ok too.
That asshole’s in a cop car, what did he do.
Meyah… Meyah. Speak to me please…
You can’t leave.
Lord tell me why…
You’d let my light die.
Allowing this bastard. To steal my soul.
Now lost and alone.
Baby sis…. Please.
Don’t Go!!

CAN YOU | By Darrell Godbold

Can You
Can you
Because I want someone to need me
I treasure you because you make me feel as warm as the summer sunset of a golden sky
Someone exactly the way that they’re expecting me to need them and to see
A love worth something much more than just a whisk blink of an eye, that is unwavering and unassailable of heart so often in tranquil waters, so silent and quiet, a love so pure in joy that when I even think about it, I whimper and often cry
Can you
Be the morning touch of a nerveless love that I wake up to for every tomorrow
You see, I know I don’t want to ever lose you, you’re not just another diamond, emerald or ruby
Be the touch that my heart tells you, that it can’t live love without you because of reminiscent past sorrow
I want to be able to say to myself that you are the softest Pearl that I have ever touched, ever touched truly
Can you
Do you want to know something else; I treasure you and that enchanting smile of yours because it glows in the early morning dawn?
And on the edge of heaven’s early evening moonlight, where my dreams have yet to be dreamed into the night and soon to be all but foregone
I treasure you because when you are so close to my heart, you become my sweet secret jewel
And I’ll keep you close to my chest in that moment and every other, where our heartbeats will become accrual
Can you
Please stay the way that you look, you don’t have to change for me, because I pleasure being in the presence of your lovely beautiful face
And you should know that for me to have to wait for your love in between goodbyes until I see you again, takes all that I feel about you and for my obsessions and infatuations to calm and quietly interlace
Can you
Let me
Keep you somewhere in my heart
So, when I want to love you, I’ll always know who to go to and exactly where to start
That way when it comes to the mood of romance
Loving you will never be like taking a random chance
Can you
Promise me
That you’ll never leave me lonely
And will not be talking to yourself as if you are
Love me, in name only
Just keep me and I’ll keep you, replete me and I’ll replete you until you tell me to stop, I’m losing my breath and please never say to me au revoir
Can you
I know for love that you could
Will you
I think you should

© 2020 Darrell Godbold


The spirit of the BLACK WOMAN is God.

In the beginning the Black Woman was able to reproduce life by herself.

The Black Woman is the only woman that can give her children melanin, which is condensed sunlight.

Black People are children of the sun, and the sun gives us power and this is the reason why we worshipped the sun and the Black Woman thousands of years ago, before we was brainwashed by the bible to worship Jesus due to slavery.

This is also the reason why evil scientists are trying to block out the sun and the reason for missing Black Women and little Black Girls.

The Bible and Qur’an has also taught us that Woman came from Man but that’s impossible because you can’t get a Wo-man from a man but you can get a Man from a Wo-“Man”.

A man has no womb to reproduce life.
The bible and Qur’an has lied to us.

For thousands of years the bible has downgraded the importance of the Black Woman, but without the Black Woman you have no man.

This is the reason why Africa is called the Motherland, because the Black Woman is the mother of all human life !!!

Who Are You | TaCorry Milton

Who are you to not to be great?
Who are you not to be proud?
Who are you not to stand tall,with those wine kissed lips and blazing lavender crown

What gives you your courage?
Is it the intention in your stride?
Or is it your grace in the switching of those hips,as you effortlessly sail on by?

Where does your regal presence derive from?
Could it be from Kings and Queens of afar and beyond?
Or could it be
It comes so naturally through your elegance and charm

John Arthur Johnson, 1912 First Black Heavyweight Champion| by Brotherhood of Sincerity

John Arthur Johnson, nicknamed the “Galveston Giant”, was an American boxer who, at the height of the Jim Crow era, became the first African American world heavyweight boxing champion.

Quiet possibly the greatest conditioned boxer of his day. He gave advice to Joe Louis, which was dismissed because of pride. Jack Johnson, although not everyone’s cup of tea, was a practical and forthright man, seeing the times for what they were; he was a Black man in a White man’s world, and as he achieved success, he knew what to expect. Ah, if times only could have been different.

He was the inventor of what is called the “monkey wrench”. They hated him because he was married to a white lady. I have a bunch of his fights on vhs tapes. His fights was scheduled for 50+rounds.

Postal Services | By Brotherhood of Sincerity Member

It’s almost hard to keep track of the multi-pronged effort to sabotage the United States Postal Service. Yesterday Trump admitted he wanted to defund the USPS in order to prevent mail-in voting, and last week his handpicked Postmaster General Louis DeJoy reorganized the agency’s structure to centralize power around himself. And now, postal workers are sounding the alarm as mail sorting machines are getting removed without an explanation. A Post Office source lamented, “On top of cutting the overtime needed to run the machines, can you imagine the [overtime] needed to do this [the] old hard way?”

This is a four-alarm fire, friends. Trump is trying to steal the election in plain sight. Congress must act immediately and exercise the full force of its powers to stop the sabotage of the USPS before it’s too late. And we must all make plans to vote as soon as possible to ensure our ballots get counted. Check your registration, check your state’s deadline for requesting a mail-in ballot, and make sure everyone you know does the same. The stakes couldn’t be higher.

Planned Master Race in America during the Pandemic? | By Demetrius Washington

It was projected somewhere between 2045 and 2050 the ethnic population would become the majority in this country. Some white people are so terrified we’ll be even 10% as evil as many of them, that they’re systematically trying to eliminate as many of us as they can. They’re playing chess and we’re stuck on who’s Black enough or laughing about other ethnic groups being verbally, mentally, and physically abused on the regular.

These false promises about immigration reform, criminal justice reform, tax reform, healthcare reform, etc. are to appease White people. But they’ve convinced us to help them wipe out ourselves so they can maintain power as the “master race”.

The Pandemic, white supremacy and colonizer “Taker” culture | Moor Yusuf

Nat Turner, you are describing the white supremacy colonizer mindset when you refer to “Taker” culture. White supremacist colonizer culture (similar to all settler-colonial cultures worldwide) at its roots makes white people NOT want to support Black and Brown people with their tax dollars, usually based on the claim that we are too lazy and that we don’t want to work—-ironic because our labor built America and made it rich. In other words, white colonizer TAKERS enjoy stealing our land and our labor, whether chattel slavery or wage slavery, but DO NOT want to GIVE back AT ALL COSTS (no reparations). This means that social democratic healthcare is impossible for white colonizer TAKERS because it means collectivizing healthcare, making healthcare a social or societal function, which requires whites as seeing themselves as PART of a larger community that they share WITH Black and Brown (indigenous) people (and Queers, Muslims, Jews, Leftists, etc), a community of shared responsibility and shared destiny, but most importantly, shared WEALTH. For some (Christian cishetero) whites that’s too much sharing with people they at best disdain or wish to ignore, and at worse hate or despise.

The pandemic forces rabid individualism (atomic narcissism) in America to either accept itself as sharing a larger community with people it disdains and despises OR to violently reject such an unavoidable reality of social connectivity. This explains the carbuncle of Q-anon and other non-evidentiary, maniacal conspiracy theory clusters rising to the discursive surface. This also explains the inordinate and unrestrained rage atomic narcissists (sociopaths) have when asked or forced to act in a way that makes them acknowledge a shared responsibility, a shared destiny, a shared community or a shared well-being : the act of wearing a mask.

Refusing to wear a mask is ostensibly a response to the mixed messages that came from medical experts about their efficacy at the beginning of the pandemic. But it’s much more than that. There was a similar refusal in the 1918 pandemic, but the sociopathy then is different from the sociopathy now because the sociopathy now, surprisingly, is better informed! Then the sociopathy could be blamed on ignorance and rugged individualism. Now the sociopathy can be blamed on willful ignorance and on FACT : Black people die disproportionately from the pandemic than whites.

Once white supremacists/nationalists had this FACT, they disseminated it online and by word of mouth, so that refusing to wear a mask became a sign of tribal affinity and loyalty. I can show you a video of a white woman explaining in a store that she doesn’t wear a mask BECAUSE she’s a white supremacist. Therefore, NOT wearing a mask is both a tribal sign of white supremacy and the related pleasure of Black/Brown/indigenous genocide.

This refusal to wear a mask has been a collective act embedded in the protection of white supremacy not only as symbolized by Trumpism/MAGA, but also as symbolized by the terroristic, white supremacist anti-lockdown protests that Trump endorsed. Because in the beginning of the pandemic in America and even to this day after obvious evidence to the contrary (at least 200,000 deaths), the pandemic was or is a white liberal hoax to damage the Trump presidency, AND because white liberals are thought erroneously by the Far Right white nationalists to be traitors to white supremacy because they permit minimal inclusivity and representation of BIPOC within spectacles, structures and institutions of political-economic power, the REFUSAL TO WEAR A MASK is a neo-Confederate symbolic act of rebellion against the rise of “uppity” Black and Brown people AND a sign of fanatic tribal belonging.