ELEMENTARY

 

 

For years they have violated the elementary principles of human dignity, using naive concepts and out dated applications of the 19th century . So far  the  revolution  is  no thing  more  than  institutions  made  up of different schools  of  thoughts,  by  Black  leaders  yelling  at  whomever will stop long enough to get their  point

ELEMENTARY

across . The  media  would  have  you think that  I  am  some  kinda right-winged activist , I didn’t walk 10 miles to school but I’m gonna tell this story  the way  I see fit .

I’m a strong Black man  holding on to something more than a picket sign in the street or searching for a testimony or a catchy line in a speech. The estrangement of man from nature began with a test , which sent him in a pictorial decline in an attempt to hide his own  nakedness . Early  on  we  made  light of man’s God given  right to be free, so I baptized this message in terms of linguistic artistry. By approaching this problem of slave sustenance chronologically, we find that the Sphinx is the personified symbol of the riddle we seek.

These deprivations affecting  the functioning capacity in my case, has left  a  deep  impression  upon  the  entire  development of our race . But this has  to  be  our  fight I can’t possibly bear the burden of being a prophet. Lonely  nights I toss  and  turn  saying  to myself,  tomorrow  could  be  it . Then there  are  other  nights  I lie in  bed  not knowing  what’s  real or  what’s  fake and if by chance I’m   in a dream, then tie both of my feet to a stake. I’ll seek beauty in my soul, far beyond the borders of this land and when there is nothing left to console me. I’ll find comfort in who I am.

MAESTRO SPEAKS

DEAR BLACK MAN AN EXCERPT FROM ARCHIVES OF A BLACK MAN WRITTEN BY ANTONIO MOSES

Dear BLACK MAN:

MAESTRO SPEAKS

It’s been a long time since we’ve had a chance to sit down and have a conversation. I won’t patronize you with excuses or long drawn out interpretations on how the plantations affected us as a race. The truth is, I’ve been busy entertaining myself.  Life is a perpetual event with certain drop offs, which sometimes leaves us alone drifting in a stream. I for one, need to come clean and stand on my own two feet and stop blaming someone else to keep my mind at peace.

I’m almost 50 years old, I don’t have anything left and what makes matter worst, I have absolutely nothing to show for it. Everything I’ve done in my life up to this point, has been predicated solely on a views. So many lies to mend, have left me wondering in loss. I’ve been so concern with complying with everyone else’s perceptions rather than living within the confines of my dreams. Having the attention span of a climax, I’ve wasted more time than I care to remember.

Subliminal thoughts have the tendency of occupying most leisure time and making a living is more than a state of mine when the bottom line continue to fall directly at my feet. The constant badgering of relationship coupled with the need to survive have all but taken its toll and the slim possibility of success wears on my subconscious from the distance. Is the rudiment principle I’ve used to ascertain so obvious? Trying so desperately to understand things I recorded from dreams I create. Only to end up dying to make cents in fact. Rigamortis is the metaphor I’ll rely on for that.

Everybody seems to have an opinion of how the story has been told, now sit back for a second to hear how the shit really unfolds. There are so many internal voices constantly haunting me, so I created high expectations of how my life is suppose to be. So if you feel Adam and Even were part of God’s magnificent plan, then what you see here standing before you is the image of the original man. My mind typically wonder at night but I’m focused today. Therefore I’ll keep using these metaphors and popping pills until the pain goes away.

You can’t recant, retract or regard it as fate. Because this breads from a source of everyday living, not something you can record on tape. You entered into an agreement which you thought was discreet and now every single thang you ever worked for belongs to the streets.

Tormented disfigured reels of insanity play, so many opinions invade the storm holding my intuition at bay. I WAS ERECTED FROM A STORM JUST PASSING THROUGH, AND YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO TRY AND CHANGE the clarity of MY point of VIEW. Gravity tends to take hold when I struggle at night and every downer I sneak and take, leaves my head feeling light. This ain’t the type drama you can vicariously get. I grew up listening to stereos, 8-tracks, and Summer Breeze on cassettes.

So what is the basis of this letter? Is it another fad or a LONG drawn out attempt for attention? This is by no stretch of anyone’s imagination some fairy tale ending that leaves us in a comatose state holding hands singing “kumbaya”, only to wake up and return to the mundane lifestyle on the horizon. Some of us sprint to the finish line, but in the end…it’s just a matter of time…..

(“DEAR BLACK MAN”) AN EXCERPT FROM ARCHIVES OF A BLACK MAN WRITTEN BY ANTONIO MOSES

http://www.antoniomoses.com

Copyrights of Antonio Moses/Publisher Ashanti Publishing Group

http://www.ashantipublishinggroup.com

“EXCLUSIVE” ARCHIVES OF A BLACK (AN EXCERPT ENTITLED): “MY THOUGHTS UNLEASHED”

ARCHIVES OF A BLACK MAN Written by Antonio Moses

ARCHIVES OF A BLACK MAN is a book of spoken word, essays and poetry written by an up and coming author named Antonio Moses share this video with your friends and family. It is an excerpt from book, which is one of many pieces you’ll fall in love with. (Book Trailer) Some of the best spoken word you’ll hear. Visit Antonio Moses author page at: www.antoniomoses.com and buy his book RITA (The Sole Survivor) on Ashanti Publishing Group www.ashantipublishinggroup.com  You can also drop Antonio a line and he will personally respond to you at: sales@antoniomoses.com. Let me know what you think of the proposed cover and if you have any suggestions please feel free to forward them to me. Don’t worry I have thick skin.

 www.whatistreetjustice.com http://youtu.be/1-l2yNSlKhU

“THE ULTIMATE BLESSING”

Your gentle eyes fall upon me…We embrace. The spirit of motion controls us,I surrender.

Captivated in time our bodies tremble relying on each others fidelity to stay grounded. The air is think with anticipation, two hearts, two souls………….. ONE LOVE. I can feel your energy. Know my fears.

Then in the moment of trust and tenderness you surrender; trapped somewhere between the jaws of ecstasy and my dreams. Far beyond the boundaries of intimacy and shame, our passions ignites. Your moans energize my endurance which heighten the thrill…..I’m spinning!

Twisted in knots, like a whirl wind, we challenge the limits of our temple by weaving the strands of our souls together as one. In and out my spirit flows, it’s destiny is to erupt. Oh! This ain’t no one night stand. Your passion excites me, delights, me it EN-TI-CES me! Can you feel the heat?

My hormones are in over drive,  let me ride you. Allow me to touch the inner depths of your well. Maybe there I’ll find something new. Pushing my limits of energy to unprecedented heights, your passion swells and as you arch your back—–I strap in for the ride. Pent up frustration starts to flow deep inside. Finally, we cum to the end of our journey compelled to sleep. I wipe a tear from your cheek and smile. To say I love you is an expression, but to be loved by you is (“THE ULTIMATE BLESSING”)

IT’S A THIN LINE

Scourging through the rubble of trash bins

With nothing on the soles their feet

The rich keep right on getting richer…

While the poor man weeps.

Leisure is a luxury

That only the wealthy record

For pain lurks in the bowels of the homeless

Because of the necessities he can’t afford.

Selfishness leads to pride

That only a poor man can see,

And justice tends to take the side

Despite a man’s God given right to be free.

Life events amount

To nothing more than a stroll

For every step we take

Consummates our defining role.

Because everything in life we touch

Dies eventually,

In summer time, weed fly

Causing the rain to dry gracefully.

Our souls have been tested

The blood runs thick,

And if we are to get past our history…

Will we ever forget?

This sanctimonious habit

Is causing us nothing but jealously,

And every time I get high

These are the type of things I repeat

It’s a thin line

Between having to preserver and take

Because if it wasn’t for the silver spoon

What would separate the spectrum of our fates?

Maestro Speaks

 

ELEMENTRY

For years they have violated the elementary principles of human dignity, using naive concepts and out dated applications of the 19th century . So far the revolution is no thing more than institutions made up of different schools of thoughts, by Black leaders yelling at whomever will stop long enough to get their point across . The media would have you think that I am some kinda right-winged activist , I didn’t walk 10 miles to school but I’m gonna tell this story the way I see fit .
I’m a strong Black man holding on to something more than a picket sign in the street or searching for a testimony or a catchy line in a speech. The estrangement of man from nature began with a test , which sent him in a pictorial decline in an attempt to hide his own nakedness . Early on we made light of man’s God given right to be free, so I baptized this message in terms of linguistic artistry. By approaching this problem of slave sustenance chronologically, we find that the Sphinx is the personified symbol of he riddle we seek.
These deprivations affecting the functioning capacity in my case, has left a deep impress ion upon the entire development of our race . Bu t this has to be our fight I can’t possibly bare the burden of being a prophet. Lonely nights I toss and turn saying to myself , tomorrow could be it . Then there are other nights I lie in bed not knowing what’s real or what’s fake and if by chance I’m in a dream, then tie both of my feet to a stake. I’ll seek beauty in my soul, far beyond the borders of this land and when there is nothing left to console me. I’ll find comfort in who I am.

A LITTLE KNOW FACT YOU SHOULD KNOW ABOUT AFRICAN AMERICAN HISTORY

First African American To Perform Open Heart Surgery

Daniel Hale Williams was born on January 18, 1856, as a boy Williams learned early on the struggles a black man faced here in America. After his father died Williams was sent to Baltimore, Maryland with family friends where he later became a shoe makers apprentice, but he knew that wasn’t his calling. After searching to find himself, he followed in his fathers footsteps and took up barbering. Finally after becoming an apprentice with Dr. Henry Palmer; a well respected surgeon in the field, who assisted him in his education. And ultimately helped Williams complete his training at Chicago’s Medical College.

During the 1800’s Williams was faced with discrimination  and racism.  He knew in order for him and people like him to pursue their dreams as a doctor in America something had to be done. So he opened the first inner racial hospital on the south side of Chicago and taught anatomy.  In 1893 Daniel Hale Williams was forced to assist a Black man by the name of James Cornish, who suffered from a stab wound to his chest. He completed the procedure without the benefit of a blood transfusion or modern surgical procedures Williams saturated the man’s wound and thus became the first African American to perform an open heart surgery.

February is dedicated  as Black History Month. The fact that February is the shortest month of the year is just another reason for us to continue in the fight and make every month Black History Month. Because my mind is the pendulum that stands between the passions of my dreams and facts and any time I’m awake this duality of consciousness seems to always bring me back.

Article written by Maestro

Dedicated  to Black History Month

Please Post Your Comment

A SPIRIT WAITING TO BE BORN

The moment of great chance stirs in space

A spirit waiting to be born

Its hidden potential buried beneath the surface

Of mans consciousness

Aversion to its own wisdom is futile

For the embodiment of humanity resides

In the seed unearthed

Theft takes from that which it knows not

And alms never denies the righteous

The necessary soil to grow.

Never take for granted

Any spilled blood

Unto the earth.

After all, “I am my brother’s keeper”

For a man’s blood is sacred

Fueled by the spirit of eternity everlasting.

Let there be enlightenment

Thus the fluid of kinship flows effortlessly

In spirit nourished streams.

Man is a bundle of relations,

A knot of roots whose complexity

Can be encountered in me.