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Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;aopicho@yahoo.com)

All black virtues and white vices to day
Point to the reality around the British Empire
Or the famous Great Britain
Or the British Commonwealth
If not the English commonwealth
That its next monarch must be an African
Truly an African without streaks of cosmetic Africanity
Deeply black in colour, ***** in race and African in blood,

The monarchy of England should not be confined
To the parochial and Provencal English blood
Falsely named the royal blood
What a misnomer? For science and religion
Has nothing in history like the royal blood
But only brutal probability of genetics
Ever and ever will befall humanity,

The royalty of blood is only a smokescreen for racism
Or inter European apartheid or apartheid in universality,
The empire of British Commonwealth, Gambia included
Is not about the royal blood of charlese, Elizabeth nor Victoria
It is all about world class cultural inclusivity
Of all the pillars of the English culture,

English commonwealth is of culture, language, attitude and geography
This has to be known devoid of racial biase
And this is the great English empire;
It is a billion African English speakers
Its five hundred million American English speakers
It is a million Australian English speakers
It is a hundred million Indian English speakers
These are the bricks that mould the English commonwealth
Not queen Elizabeth and her son the cuckold of Egyptian mangy dog,
It is the nation of Uganda which is hundred percent African,
No Caucasoids nor Asians but its mother tongue is the British English,
Uganda is crazy; its peasants speak English like Cambridge scholars,
It’s the Nigerian Afro -cinema that promotes spoken English
With the muscle only inherent in the stampede of cultural imperialism,

The royal family is not royal at all in the informed understanding
Or else which family is not royal, show one me please
And I will show you folly of the day
Who wants not to be royal, why not all of us,
Crudeness of culture is the pedestal of reserved royalty
Inclusivity is the contrasting mother of cultural strength
Thus, all English speakers are the royal family
Of the British Commonwealth,
They don’t need royal blood
They already have full amour of the royal culture
Of the English linguistic or mental civilisation,
Please Queen Elizabeth listen to me carefully
Listen with your wholesome body and soul to this song
The song of freedom echoing cultural modernity;
Give to us, we your children of the commonwealth our rights
Include us in our hard earned monarchy,
I also want to be the king of England
I want to fill that royal palace with my dark skin
I want to speak and write English poetry inside the palace
The royal palace of England whose
Whose Golden floor and pavement are  s
Reeking the blood of colonialism
The wood and gold in the palace
Was taken from Africa without any pay
During colonial robbery with violence,
Give me my historical rights to be the king of England
Then my four African wifes; Lumbasi Opicho, Namwaya Opicho, Nangila Opicho and Chelangat Opicho, the most beautiful of all from the heroic Kipsigis
Will be the four queens of England, queens of the English commonwealth
Lumbasi for Scotland, Namwaya for England, Nangila for Wales and Chelangat
For the begotten Ireland,
I have all the virtues in my blood to be the English king
If it’s military, shaka the Zulu is my uncle
If it is wisdom, Nelson mandella is my uncle
If it is intellect Kwame Nkrumah is my father
If it is culture Taban Lo Liyong and Okot p’Bitek are my brothers
Whereas Leopold Sedar Senghor is a son of my father from another mother,
If it is beauty Cleopatra the Egyptian whose beauty killed the Roman king is my mother
If it is science my witchcraft is superior in technology to silicon computing
If it is ***, ask your daughter in law princes Diana
Now what am I missing to become the next English monarch?
judy smith Jul 2016
The 9.6 million followers who tune in to watch Miranda Kerr having her hair done on Instagram — for this is how models spend most of their time — were treated to a rather more interesting sight last Thursday: a black and white photograph of a whacking great diamond ring.

Across it was the caption “Marry me!” and a twee animation of the tech mogul Evan Spiegel on bended knee. Underneath Kerr had typed “I said yes!!!” and an explosion of heart emojis.

A spokesman for Spiegel, founder of the Snapchat mobile app, who is 26 to Kerr’s 33 and worth $US 2.1 billion to her $US 42.5 million , revealed “they are very happy”.

At first, the marriage seems an unlikely combination: a man so bright he founded Snapchat while still at Stanford University, becoming one of the world’s youngest self-made billionaires by 22, and a Victoria’s Secret model who was previously married to the Pirates of the Caribbean star Orlando Bloom (she allegedly had a fling with pop brat Justin Bieber, leading Bloom to punch Beebs in a posh Ibiza restaurant).

Perhaps the union indicates that there is more to Kerr than we thought. More likely, it reveals something about Spiegel — and the way the social status of “geeks” has changed.

Since Steve Jobs made computers cool and Millennials started living online, nerds are king. Even coding is **** enough for the model Karlie Kloss, singer will.i.am and actor Ashton Kutcher to learn it. Silicon Valley has become the new Hollywood, as moguls and social media barons take over from film stars and sportsmen not just on rich lists, but as alpha men.

Being a co-founder of a company is this decade’s equivalent to being a rock star or a chef. And, if their attractiveness to models and actresses proves anything, then being a Twag — tech wife or girlfriend — is a “thing”. Sources tell me Twags are also known as “founder-hounders” because they like to date the creators of start-up companies.

Actress Talulah Riley was an early adopter. She started dating the PayPal founder Elon Musk in 2008. Riley, then fresh from starring in the St Trinian’s film, met Musk in London’s Whisky Mist nightclub after he had delivered a lecture at the Royal Aeronautical Society. I interviewed her shortly afterwards and she told me they had spent the evening talking about “quantum physics”. A month later they were engaged. Their on-again-off-again marriage lasted six years before she filed for divorce again in March. Currently Musk, worth an estimated $US 12.7 billion and focused on Tesla cars, is said to be “spending a lot of time” with Johnny Depp’s estranged wife, Amber Heard.

Model Lily Cole dated the Twitter founder Jack Dorsey in 2013. Later she had a son with Kwame Ferreira, founder of the digital innovation agency Kwamecorp. Actress Emma Watson is going out with William Knight, an “adventurer” who has an incredibly boringly sounding job as a senior manager at Medallia, a software company. Allison Williams, Marnie in the HBO television show Girls, is married to Ricky Van Veen, co-founder of College Humor website.

Could it be that these women are onto something? Dating a bro certainly has its appeal. They are innovative: how else would they invent apps that deliver cheese toasties or match singles based on their haircuts? They are risk-takers who must be charismatic enough to inspire investors and attract crowd-funding. They may not be gym-fit, but they are mathletes who can do your tax bill. They are animal lovers: every start-up is dog friendly. And they are fun: who would not want to date somebody with a ball pool in their office?

There is a saying about dating in Silicon Valley: the odds are good but the goods are odd. Nerds are notorious for peculiar chat-up lines and normcore clothes. Still, if geeks can be awkward, that is part of their charm. Keira Knightley, complaining that Silicon Valley was all men in hoodies and Crocs, described how one gave her his card, saying she should get in touch if she wanted to see a spaceship.

One Vogue writer recalled a Silicon Valley man messaging her via a dating app, in which he noted: “In 50 per cent of your photos you’re holding an iPhone. It may interest you to find out that I invented the iPhone. More accurately I was an engineer on the original iPhone . . .”

Most promisingly, some guys are astoundingly rich. It is suggested Kerr’s engagement ring is a 2.5-carat diamond worth around dollars 55,000. She has already moved into Spiegel’s dollars 12m LA pad. Between his money and her Victoria’s Secrets bridesmaids, no wonder sources claim they are planning an “extravagant wedding”.

It might rival even the Napster founder Sean Parker’s $US10m performance-art bash. He married songwriter Alexandra Lenas in a canopy among Big Sur’s redwoods decorated to look like an enchanted forest. Some 350 guests wore Tolkienesque costumes created by The Lord of the Rings costume designer Ngila Dickson. They sat on white fur rugs and were given bunnies to pet. Presumably rabbit babysitters were on hand when the disco started.

If such fantasies inspire you to become a Twag, the great news is you do not have to be a supermodel to be in with a chance. Such is the dearth of single women in Silicon Valley that one dating site, Dating Ring, crowdfunded a plane to fly single women to Palo Alto from New York.

Be warned, though: guys are single because they are married to the job.

No wonder most meet their partners at college or work — the Facebook chief executive Mark Zuckerberg met his wife, Priscilla Chan, at Harvard.

The Instagram co-founder Kevin Systrom met girlfriend Nicole Schuetz at Stanford. Melinda met Bill Gates when, in 1987, they sat next to each other at an Expo trade-fair dinner. “He was funnier than I expected him to be,” she said.

Kerr began dating Spiegel in 2014 after meeting him at a Louis Vuitton dinner in New York. You can bet he was networking. Shortly after Louis Vuitton showcased their cruise collection in a Snapchat story. Last season Snapchat went on to become the biggest new name at NY fashion week.

If you want to meet tech guys, you might catch them at Silicon Valley parties, which is how the Uber chief executive Travis Kalanick met his partner, Gabi Holzwarth, a violinist hired to play. Or they might be schmoozing clients downtown in a swanky Noe Valley club in San Francisco or a boring Union Square hotel in New York. In London you find them around Old Street, aka Silicon Roundabout, in bars, at hackathons, or start-up meet-ups. In the day they are coding at Google Campus or practising their pitching in a co-working space.

Some tech boys date the old-fashioned way: on Tinder. Airbnb founder Brian Chesky met his girlfriend of three years, Elissa Patel, through the app. When I interviewed Instagram co-founder Systrom he admitted that when he had been single he had signed up.

Dating agency Linx — presumably a play on operating system Linux — is dedicated to making Silicon Valley matches. Amy Andersen set it up in 2003 after moving to Palo Alto and being “flabbergasted” by the number of eligible men. She claims her clients are “extremely dynamic and successful individuals’’: tech founders, tech chief executives, financier founding partners of large institutions and “tons of entrepreneurs”.

Andersen says tech guys make “fabulous partners”. Romantic and chivalrous, they write love letters, plan dates, “even proposing on Snapchat!” If you want to marry a tech billionaire, she says, “you need to bring your A game.” Her clients look “for women who are equally, if not more, dynamic and interesting than he is!”

There are drawbacks to dating tech guys. Before Google buys your amore’s business, he will be living on *** Noodles waiting for the next round of funding — and workaholics are dull.

Kerr says Spiegel is “25, but he acts like he’s 50. He’s not out partying. He goes to work in Venice [Beach], he comes home. We don’t go out. We’d rather be at home and have dinner, go to bed early.” Which might suit Kerr, but is not my idea of a fun.

You had also better be prepared to share your life. When Priscilla Chan miscarried three times, Mark Zuckerberg wrote about it on Facebook, while Chesky used a romantic trip with his girlfriend to promote Airbnb - uploading a picture of her in bed, with a note saying “f* hotels”. Besides all of which is the notorious issue of Silicon Valley sexism.

It has a chief exec-bro culture that puts pick-up artist/comedian Dapper Laughs to shame. Ninety per cent of women working in the Valley say they have witnessed sexist behaviour, 60 per cent have experienced unwanted ****** advances at work, two thirds of them from their boss. Whitney Wolfe, a co-founder of Tinder, took Justin Mateen to court for ****** harassment. Her lawsuit against the company alleged that Mateen, her former partner, sent text messages calling her a “*****”.

Spiegel has tech bro form. He apologised after emails from his days at Stanford emerged: missives about stripper poles, getting black-out drunk, shooting lasers at “fat chicks”, and promising to “roll a blunt for whoever sees the most **** tonight (Sunday)”. After one fraternity Hawaiian luau party, he signed off emails “f*
bitchesgetleid”.

No wonder some women are not inspired to become Twags. Especially when you could be a tech billionaire yourself. Would you not rather be Sheryl Sandberg, chief operating officer of Facebook, than married to the boss?Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/evening-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/black-formal-dresses
Lloyd Elipokea Apr 2020
The year was 1820.
The place: a sugar plantation field in Birmingham, Alabama.
One day on the said plantation field in 1820, an African slave, Kwame, all of a sudden decided that he had had enough.
He was through with addressing the white owner of the plantation field as ‘Master’.


He was done with tip-toeing around the white master’s children so reverentially as if they were demi-gods.
‘Demi-gods’! Why, they were more like spoiled little brats with truly despicable behavior.
Kwame had had it up to here with all of it.
So, on one Saturday afternoon, Kwame, upped and made a bold dash for freedom.
As he tried to run away with his heart pounding heavily in his chest, he heard the tell-tale sounds of horses’ hooves kicking up dust as the white master and his henchmen vigorously pursued him on horse-back.
Despite hearing the yells from the white master and his men calling on him to stop, on Kwame ran throwing caution to the winds.


But in the end something did stop Kwame.
Two gun-shots to his back and two others to his neck eventually felled him fatally.
The place: a sugar plantation field in Birmingham, Alabama.
The year: 1820.
The year when the courageous attempt of an African slave, Kwame, to find freedom tragically cost him his life.

The End.
Max Neumann Aug 2021
splinter of existence creepin' thru skin
when judgement day is scarin' ya guys
temples beatin' 888 beats per minute
as dreams of shelter be passin' by

remember merciless bob, the hyena?
used to shoot bullets like rashid stoogie
always mind da project's family tree, b
watts to frankfurt via lima, diz how we be

brothaz, almans, multihood, escalade in chrome
osmans *** some, naber abi, bana parayi ver
you won't survive the massacre of greed
palms grow inside frankfurt's wildlife

GBS, TPB, LA MINA, HOLZI, NORDI, BOKI
dey be too fierce for dem knocko boys
no jammin', silver colts in montenegro
special forces, dejan, heroine, grenades

choki predicted da richness, we be floatin'
ari goldman tower, sandstone, platinum coke
yugos, habibis, moruks, almans, pashto
marokks, habeshas, albans and kurds

man bites dog, anti-traitor, snares
lacerated cable, flashdeath in red and blue
palermo, cosa nostra, secret shipment
da antagonist be chained 'gainst ya brain, bro

we tear up pavements since we rule da planet
massacres, new age, 36ers, crenshaw, headrush
day of vendetta bros, senait forgot how to *** back
street dust be what ya smellin' in da projectz

bent body, similar to deceased city doves
her soul be glintin' among da 5-0 sirens
large scale operation, silverblack corpses
black dots in front of ya eyes, sista

harlem river houses, homeshadows, dough
the ghetto raises fierce and bloodthirsty men
2 for 60, flip it into 90 and mind the cut, kwame
ya peeps gotta eat, and don't forget youse momz

let's build towers from all dem stacks, luv bellywood
our camouflage be immaculate like 90% pure
rides on champagne in times of evil blood
we light up the night and rightfully keep turf

our home be 36 souls away, slums and the hamptons
in the kitchen, da fiend's addiction is boiling
e guitar sounds, we overrun ya people
and don't ya fear jail, we reign institutionz
The rejuvenated year has finally shed
It’s twinkling leaf on my greenness,
Oh yes, my years have tasted the darkest
Side of the seasonal stainless moon,
Causing juvenile mango trees to bath
The malleable aurora dews,

This is my wind howling fiercely in the dark
And sobbing streams of tattoo tears,
My dreams have even caused my essence
To conjure the wordless spells of the ancestress,
Lest the dreary thunderstorm of thirst
Swims over my horrendous firmament,

Give a voice to the air!
For there is not a breath of air stirring
At my munitions of peace,
I can even feel the dry pulse
And the heartbeat of the naked Gods
Piercing the calm natural day,

Oh no, the Sun-Gods has drunk the
Stream behind my coloured walls,
Causing the stretch marks on the
Back of Mother Earth to bleach,
You dare ask Tweaduampon Kwame
To weep on your scorching pepper,
For the friendship of the pregnant clouds
Was indeed for the raining season only.


© PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI
Email: nanaspeaks@gmail.com
Max Neumann Jul 2021
Wondaland, a.k.a. The Magic Metropolis
June 13th, 2021

Esteemed Readers and Writers, Gangstapoets and Hangarounds,

Gangstapoetry proudly declares that CREATION 96 is now the second unit of our Global Movement.

We are welcoming our new members. You are now a part of us. Much Love.

Tizzop


GANGSTAPOETS


**** 13.8  *  MIKEY DA STREETWISE  *  EAZY LEGS *  ADORABLE GREGGIE  *  MONICA MATADORA  *  SLY BOOTYGIRL  *  COLLAPSIN CHAOT  *  THE LADY REVENANT  *  BEEN  *  WOOZY WIZARD  *  TELLY  *  CRATERSKATER  *  CHEYENNE IS STARVIN  *  CASPER THE PSYCHOTIC GHOST 


GANGSTAPOETS


DESERT SAMURAI  *  PRESTON  *  ALBOW  *  SNOWBLADE  MUTANT  *  SAMBA  * 
UNKLE OF DOOM  *  PLAY  *  ANTWONE  * 
BOBBY BUTCHAH  *  TINA  *  JOEY  *  DREAM SEEKER  *  TRANCE DISCIPLE  *
*  MOTH  *  DR. ****  *  KOBA COBRATONGUE 


GANGSTAPOETS


SVETLANA  *  GUNJAHTOOL  *  LOUIS ORTGIES  *  MISHU BRAVE BEAR  *  GÖKHAN TATCHOUOP  *  DESOCIALIZED KID  *  WIND DIGGER  *  SABIÇ  * JUAN  * DEAL  *  LUCY TARANTULA  *  TEXAS HOLD ME  *  SOUTHSIDE DRILL ASSASIN  *  SHAWN  *  JAMMED JAY 



GANGSTAPOETS


THCO  *  TIMMY ROTTEN  *  PLATIN ZIPPO  *  WORLDWIDE WAGGING  *  ZOMBIE NEIGHBOR  *  BUTCH  *  KWAME'S LOST SON  *  TRANCE24/7  * JIMMY  *  JOSE, FELIPE & CATHERINE  * LAST OPTION PHIL  *  KIAN  *  MAX NEWMAN  *  MAGIC GOON
Oh no, it is not right
To side with an ordinance
Contrary to the divine words,
For the Gods of thy destiny is jealous
Over thy new found ego-Gods,

Thou slept as a great hero
And awoke as a dead wretched coward,
Thy gilt could not taste the indefinite
Wisdom from the ancestors for long,
May be, the libation poured
On thy blessed eighth day
Could not please the Gods of thy destiny,

Thou have lifted up thy wicked hands
Against the children of heaven,
And thou shall never escape
The judgment of Tweaduampon Kwame,
And any attempt to exculpate thyself
Shall outcry thy destruction,

Why, has the executioner received
Thy death warrant from the council of elders?
The ruler of the city of the dead
Is stirred up with delight
To welcome thee into his kingdom,
The worms and termites
Shall be thy bedspread and pillow,

The sea behind thy house,
Yarns for they salt,
For how shall he be clean,
He who is defiled with blood and slaughter,
By the polluted lapse of denial,
And who is stained by so great an evil?

Oh, see how thou have become
A spectacle to the sparrows,
The floods are now clothed in the
Official dress of the raven,
Causing the volcanic mountains over the
Eastern hills to weep over thy transfiguration,
For thy sacred calico has been
Stained with malice and destruction,

Amazingly, the rooster has accepted
To crow only at noonday,
Whilst the dawn has also refused
Contact with the daylight,
Now, let the lazy sleeping lion
Dream of infinite terror and disaster,
Oh yes, mighty lion, the clouds
Of Nigeria will not hold together,
Until thy woes are emptied in fear and tears.



© PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI
Email: nanaspeaks@gmail.com
Alert the Ankobeahene and Kontihene
To secure the women and children,
For the language is war,
Remind the Kyidomhene,
Nifahene and the Benkumhene
To caution their men
For a possible storm,

Men of war!
Fill the mighty *** of fire
With the water fetched
From the Godstwi river,
Do not forget to mix it
With the divine talismans,

For the pale-skin men
Who knocked our doors
With their good news,
Are now knocking our
Doors with their gun news,

Represent their commanders with stones,
And place them in the boiling mixture,
Has the omnipotent Kwame and
Mother Earth approved of this?

My servants, check on the ***
Whether it has disintegrated,
Then we expect defeat,
If not, play the drums
And blow the horns of war
In delight and strength,

War!
War!
War!
Who is to lead us?
For the *** on the fire has
Expressed our defeat by
Wailing and disintegrating,

Oh yes, nevertheless the
Gods and ancestors have chosen
The vibrant queen mother of Ejisu,

Ah, though we are fighting
A war of contempt,
Her Royal majesty,
Nana Yaa Asantewaa
Shall lead the entire Ashanti army,

Weep for your children,
Oh, great Krobea Asante Kotoko,
For they are going in
For an unpleasant defeat,
But for the sake of
The courage of Yaa Asantewaa,
We shall fight!

Fight!
Fight!
Fight! Till we see defeat,
For the moon moves slowly,
But by daytime it crosses the sky.


© PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI
Email: nanaspeaks@gmail.com
I’m an African
Am a ture African
Am from the Land of the Red, Gold, Green
The land with its soil as fertile as the womb of the ****** Mary  

I look at the World map and just the sight of the  curves of Mama Africa arouses me......
see Is that piece not Hyde? Cos this shape de3 a no go lie,
It's set ablaze like the holy ghost fire
Hotter than the ghost pepper my mouth watery “aahh a Don tier"
Cos it' even tickles a shatta in the trousers and I feel it's movement against Newtons law of motion
Even Just the shape of the map of Africa already causing commotion

Hook
Africa 2×
We be one Africa aa
(Eeii ya one Africa)
Africa 2×
Ghana mother land
(Eeii ya my mother land )

Me mey3 Oman ba pa
Mey3 Oman Ghana dehye3 ankasa
The white man came to my land and with the sole purpose of preaching the gospel even when we had no chapel
Later maneuvered his way to barter trade our gold and valuable resources with hard liquor
And in a short while I mean a flicker, they captured my people and enslaved us into hard labour
And on 6 March 1957 a revolution lead by Dr. Kwame Nkrumah fought and led us to our independence
Chorus
I'm a free man free man
I said I'm a free man
(Eeii ya)
I'm a free man
I'm a free man
I'm a free man
(Eeii ya)

Freedom made me a free man even though I ain't the tritagonist of The Boondocks
I hear the reverb of Nkrumah's voice recurring out loud in my ears just like a jukebox
"(Sample)Ghana our beloved country is free forever.... (In Nkrumah's Voice)"
Meney3 anomaa, na 3mom membowa
Efiris3 afidea biara 3nheneme ( mom pene me3) (herrrrrrrrrr)
Na mey3 odefo) ahh me kuraa mens3m tumi
Oh yes I'm a free human being with an Independent will
A will that I will **** for, for real, because being a slave is just sick, I need a pill.
Repeat hook and chorus
Tj kwame Apr 2016
The dews of heaven
She downs like the morning
A mellifluous creature, surfed ashore
Myrtle amid thorns; Quiescent
Heart of a royal; highness
Resplendent in garment of sapphire; radiant
The lady gouldian finch
Melodies inspires ataraxia
Beautific as wysteria
It’s her loving heart beaming smiles
Stretches as thousand miles
Incandescent as candle on a hill
Beacon of hope
Oh hear
The susurrations of a Gold-Mantled Rosella .

Tj. kwame
The branches of Africa
Are gnashing their teeth
In liberation and sorrow,
Whiles the Kwahu mountains
Have frown over the horizon,

Oh yes, the brave has
No right to winnow
Such an ultimately subpoena,
For the sumptuous
Sunbeam has sullied
The pride of Nkroful,

Is that the great man
Resting in a lonely palace?
Dreaming of darkness
And infinite vacuum?
Is there no ointment
To take this sting of
Cotton out of the mind?

Is that the proud son of Africa
With his heart still
Dreaming in tears of blood?
Kwame indeed had no
Cure for his sick pride,
Nor the taste of
His glorious suffering,

Oh no, the sun has
Stretched her scorching
Face over his eyelids,
That everyone who
Passes by him shall
Hiss and shake his fist,

His clasp are now held
Together on his abdomen,
Never again shall the
Straying lighting of the
Hills and valleys weep
Over the stratum of Africa,

Osagyefo is no more
For the right arm
Of Fathiah is broken,
But the Gods
Shall not rest,
Until Africans see the light.


© PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI
Email: nanaspeaks@gmail.com
Travis Green Jun 2020
Let’s pay homage to many innocent black lives that were taken by
the corrupt system:  Martin Luther King Jr.  Malcom X.  Emmett Till.  George Stinney.  Will Brown.  Sandra Bland.  Trayvon Martin.  Ahmaud Arbery.  Breonna Taylor. George Floyd.  David McAtee.  Natosha “Tony” McDade.  Yassin Mohamed.  Finan H. Berhe.  Sean Reed.  Steven Demarco Taylor.  Ariane McCree.  Terrance Franklin.  Miles Hall.  Darius Tarver.  William Green.  Samuel David Mallard.  Kwame “KK” Jones.  De’von Bailey.  Christopher Whitfield.  Anthony Hill.  Eric Logan.  Jamarion Robinson.  Gregory Hill Jr.  JaQuavion Slaton.  Ryan Twyman.  Brandon Webber.  Jimmy Atchison.  Willie McCoy.  Emantic “Ej” Fitzgerald Bradford Jr.  D’ettrick Griffin.  Jemel Roberson.  DeAndre Ballard.  Botham Shem Jean.  Robert Lawrence White.  Anthony Lamar Smith.  Ramarley Graham.  Manuel Loggins Jr.  Wendell Allen.  Kendrec McDade.  Larry Jackson Jr.  Jonathan Ferrell.  Jordan Baker.  Victor White III.  Dontre Hamilton.  Eric Garner.  John Crawford III.  Michael Brown.  Ezell Ford.  Dante Parker.  Kajieme Powell.  Laquan McDonald.  Akai Gurley.  Tamir Rice.  Rumain Brisbon.  Tony Robinson.  Mario Woods.  Quintonio LeGrier.  Gregory Gunn.  Akiel Denkins.  Alton Sterling.  Philando Castile.  Terrance Sterling.  Terrence Crutcher.  Keith Lamont Scott.  Alfred Olango.  Jordan Edwards.  Stephon Clark.  Danny Ray Thomas.  Dejuan Guillory.  Patrick Harmon.  Jonathan Hart.  Maurice Granton.  Julius Johnson.  Jamee Johnson.  Michael Dean.  Keith Childress.  Bettie Jones.  Kevin Matthews.  Michael Noel.  Leroy Browning.  Leroy Nelson.  Miguel Espinal.  Nathaniel Pickett.  Tiara Thomas.  Cornelius Brown.  Jamal Clark.  Richard Perkins.  Michael Lee Marshall.  Alonzo Smith.  Anthony Ashford.  Dominic Hutchinson.  Lamontez Jones.  Rayshaun Cole.  Paterson Brown.  Christopher Kimble.  Junior Prosper.  Keith McLeod.  Wayne Wheeler.  Lavante Biggs.  India Kager.  Tyree Crawford.  James Carney.  Felix Kumi.  Asshams Manley.  Christian Taylor.  Troy Robinson.  Brian Day.  Michael Sabbie.  Billy Ray Davis.  Samuel Dubose.  Darrius Stewart.  Albert Davis.  Salvado Ellswood.  George Mann.  Jonathan Sanders.  Freddie Blue.  Victo Larosa.  Spencer McCain.  Kevin Bajoie.  Zamiel Crawford.  Jermaine Benjamin.  Kris Jackson.  Kevin Higgenbotham.  Ross Anthony.  Richard Gregory Davis.  Curtis Jordan.  Markus Clark.  Lorenzo Hayes.  De’Angelo Stallsworth.  Dajuan Graham.  Brandon Glenn.  Reginald Moore.  Nuwnah Laroche.  Jason Champion.  Bryan Overstreet.  David Felix.  Terry Lee Chatman.  William Chapman.  Samuel Harrell.  Freddie Gray.  Norman Cooper.  Brian Acton.  Darrell Brown.  Frank Shephard III.  Walter Scott.  Donald “Dontay” Ivy.  Eric Harris.  Phillip White.  Dominick Wise.  Jason Moland.  Bobby Gross.  Denzel Brown.  Brandon Jones.  Askari Roberts.  Terrance Moxley.  Anthony Hill.  Bernard Moore.  Naeschylus Vinzant.  Tony Robinson.  Charly Leundeu “Africa” Keunang.  Darrell Gatewood.  Deontre Dorsey.  Thomas Allen Jr.  Lavall Hall.  Calvon Reid.  Gerdie Moise.  Terry Price.  Natasha McKenna.  Jeremy Lett.  Kevin Garrett.  Alvin Haynes.  Artago Damon Howard.  Tiano Meton.  Andre Larone Murphy Sr.  Leslie Sapp.  Brian Pickett.  Frank Smart.  Matthew Ajibade.

There are so many more that have died at the hands of the prejudice system.  All of you will never be forgotten.  Your legacy will forever live on.  Rest in Paradise to the fallen angels.
Tj kwame Feb 2018
In the morning –

The enemy advanced and
our shields were down
for our strength was divided –
As we sat down by the banks of the river, By Babylon, we drank mouth to the water diluted with the blood of our people –
we cried;

[Oh you left ‘us ugly, gallant men twiddling our thumps In outer space wriggling…]

our song was gone
and the grief was bitter,
an excruciating pain we suffered,
we prayed for an intervention
for the journey we had to endure,
the humiliation wasn’t diabolical;
the restrain on our psych was worst-
we were bulls that operates the plough the mole that pull the carts any resistances was rewarded;
deprived of food and water-
sleep deluded from our eyes
tears never came to their sockets-
day and night;
for the pleasure of our masterswelabored gruelingly through
the high mountains
down to the shallow valleys –
the storms came and the rains fell,
the sun rose radiating our skin complicating our plight.
Hearts became ******
for the hard times,
forceful than the logic of the mind,
for we wondered if we shall ever return…….

home.

Our home is become Rome
and we playing by their rules
W/ no course to own
The muscle of our voice impair’d
Our soul in perpetual despair Lashed with strikes of hardship
So we set the enterprise
Of digging holes in our hearts
An industry for pixie dust To ensure grandel dines w/ wine
As we labored to set
The wolfs off before dusk
Burning the candle of midnight
Until we sight the morning light
Hope; w/ ‘e bird took flight to…..

No where.
We were lost at sea ,
With wild whales with big bellies-
Petty are we finless fishes,y we wishutord;
Not that we couldn’t
But the bankruptcy of the trust we accord, The trustees of our wealth; Misjudge our worth,
Sold our oil to the pirates of the west-The custodian of our essence
Mistake our silence for sin
To bargain an endless spin
Nonetheless our green field….

foreseen……

(c) 2017-
Tj. Kwame Photo credit: LolitoCatahan@[pictify.saatchigallery.co

— The End —