Sunday, February 27, 2022

The Little Brown People

I’d just been whipped naked.

My people had no choice but to stand and watch.

In pain, I saw my wife in the distance, she had been beaten into submission. 

They took our only child and turned him into something we couldn’t even comprehend.

We had no home, we had no life, we suffered and were owned, we were told to forget.

We were told to forget.

To keep quiet, when to sleep, how to dress, how to talk, how to walk, we were property.

Our story was to be forgotten, sold as a shame, exterminated.

Beaten into separation, kept dumb on purpose, divided for a reason. This alone could make a grown man cry. Begging as a man on my knees for mercy, I felt another slash against my back for just trying to wake my people up. Forced to drown in my tears I’d become numb.

Whipped into submission before I was crucified, I watched what had become of my life.

I’d been forgotten, tortured for just being a slave.

Tortured for being myself, I was already dead. As time went on, I realized that I owned nothing.

I had no home. I had no country. Hanging on a noose, as they gathered around to watch, I heard my mother calling me on the other side.

I was alone. 

I had no friends, I owned nothing, I was told to forget and let go, I’d literally lost my mind trying to be remembered. Trying to feel loved, trying to feel alive.

Dangling from a tree I could hear my mother calling me.

She called me by a name I’d never heard.

For she too was blinded on earth, whipped into submission. We only had dreams to keep us happy, we only had dreams to give us a home. We only had dreams to give us peace. 

As my body then hung from a tree lifeless,

what was called necessary evil had literally driven the world mad.

It had driven good God fearing men to fight. 

My bloodline never saw freedom…

We were told to forget.

This was my history, a history that I alone had to find.

I was a slave, I was owned, and I was told to accept my life and forget.

My noose shined in gold and as I hung from a purple tree, my last supper was at a table full of traitors, for my disciples drank blood and were drunk happy. They too stabbed me in the back only to see me resurrect in history so the world could be saved and never forget.

The Little Brown People.

God bless the people who chose to end slavery, I hope everyone learned a lesson this Black History Month. If you’re living comfortably and you feel a small pinch on your skin, or you feel a hint of anxiety, beware, the little brown people could be present. You can still hear them at night, they blow with the wind, and burn with the fire.

The End.


Time for a Good Day

What a fine day for a walk…

A good day to talk…

A good day to go for a run and have some fun…

How sweet of a day, to swim and play…

A day to fly like a bird…

It’s time for a good day. 

Friday, February 25, 2022

Focus on Peace

Just yesterday I was at war with terrorist.

I stood and watched two twin towers fall while eating on my ship.

Today I sit and watch war again.

I’ve grown to hate war.

My entire life has been bombarded with street violence. 

I’ve witnessed my family and friends all die from drugs and violence, black and white.

It’s become a cult that is too ignorant to cure.

By God’s grace I made it out of the war on terror.

It is very hard for me to see people suffer so I write and create to keep my mind off of this evil that has chased me my entire life.

I’ve chosen to live a life of peace now but seeing war constantly in circulation and seeing the continued state of my people I don’t know how my life will end.

It’s a jungle out here and everyone is fighting for a piece of the pie.

There are simple things in life that we all take for granted, and just like most soldiers I tried the love, marriage, and church life but ended up getting burned.

I am a black man and I’ve come to learn that every year I’m being called something new by whomever, so I’ve learned to leave that topic alone.

Getting older and wiser, I really wish that people would learn to take a breath, listen to what other people have to say. Learn to share, learn to laugh, learn to stop destroying precious things that other people spent their entire lives creating.

Just like most common sense thinkers, and creative people, I’ve learned that perfection is impossible and everyone is not like me. Deep inside we’re all lost trying to feel like winners.

Seeing people die has really worn me out, but just like years ago, as a young sailor, I too must carry-on. Most of the doctors who helped me get well are probably dead now, but everyday I wake up their story lives on.

My friend, if you’re reading this, take the time to value peace.

Take the time to listen…

Take the time to learn new things…

Explore and enjoy whatever it is that you have that frees your mind.

Focus in closely and you may find peace.

Focus in on its beauty, no one is inferior when feeling it’s neutral force.

Focus on Peace.

A Quiet Day

Well, if this is my last day on earth I guess I better find something to do.

All of my life I’ve worked, so I won’t do that.

I used to go to church a lot so I guess I won’t do that.

I’ve had girls and I’ve really been trying to practice self control, so I’ll stay away from that.

I could watch porn but that seems to be getting me no where, I’ll leave that mess alone.

Every time I turn on the TV something crazy is on so I’ll leave that alone.

I guess I’ll read a book, that may help me escape into another day.

A Quiet Day

Thursday, February 24, 2022


There is a God of war…

There is a God of peace…

He talks to me in both ways…

The last time I heard his voice he gave me an option to choose…

I decided to pick up the weapon of peace while my enemies picked up weapons of war.

While they fought on earth and opened up the gates of hell, I lived in eternal peace.

My army was clothed in golden armor with ships powered by the fuel of raging seas.

When my enemies denied my peace offering, and ripped up my diplomatic agreements, I took a beating, only to be strengthened by the blows. If I did not die, I would become stronger.

A voice then whispered to me that I had a win-win situation, for I had made the right choice.

In the process, I was shown no resistance when asked to free the innocent people affected by war. 

It was my choice not to fight…

It was my choice not to kill…

When the war was over, I heard the God of peace speak to me…

He said, “Your enemies have worn themselves out, now attack with your weapons of peace. Just like you, I gave them a choice, I am the God of all things, everything belongs to me. Put on your golden armor and do not be afraid. I am with you.”

I then picked up my instruments, books, and academic artillery and began to take back what was mine by right because I had done nothing wrong. 

I then freed the prisoners who did the same.

God owned the world and everything in the universe so in the end I made the right choice.

The crying stopped and the dust settled, peace was appreciated and never forgotten, the war was over.

War did nothing but plant seeds of human blood that later grew to feed the next generation.

I’d been cured.


Monday, February 21, 2022

Octo Lessons

1. Reach out, find something new.

2. Don’t be afraid to try, eventually you’ll get it right.

3. Remember, everyone is different, and keep in mind that there will be good days and bad days.

4. Be yourself, not everyone will like you so keep going.

5. Even a professional was once an amateur.

6. A mistake is like a whistle, warning you what you did wrong, so you can get it right the next time.

7. If someone laughs at you, your number one advantage is time. Eventually they’ll laugh with you.

8. The best part about failure is trying. At least you tried.

Saturday, February 19, 2022

The Black Rose

It was our last time, searching for the fountain of youth in a field of cotton, we swore to leave it alone. Instead we found the immaculate rose.

This was the the burning bush…

It was the forbidden flower…

It was mysterious, a freak of nature…

A black rose…

It’s thorns were like gray soot, they reflected the gray sky and when the sun came out they turned crystal clear like ice water.

Out of all places it grew from a field of old volcanic ashes as if nature were trying to send us a message.

Maybe a gift.

In reconciliation of the peaceful offering from the other side, we joined hands and began to sing.

After over four hundred years of pain it was over and something or someone gave us a black rose that blossomed like dirty chains on a sycamore tree.

Amazed at the rare sight, black and white feathers started falling from the sky and we began to fly.

We were free to spread our wings, the chains on the sycamore tree were broken and we watched the black rose grow from the sky.

It was unbelievable…

It was beautiful…

It was a Black Rose.

Thursday, February 17, 2022


I knew a little girl named Faith.

Her gift was optimism.

When down and out, she always saw the good in people.

She believed that there was more to life.

When challenged by things that would upset her she would spread her wings and fly…

She believed that she could do it…

She believed that it could be done…

She had Faith.

Sometimes that’s all it takes.


Wednesday, February 16, 2022

The Tender Flower 🌸

 It’s never impossible…

It’s always amazing…

Just look at the flowers…

How tender, how colorful, how beautiful…

As I grow with age, I take a look at the flowers.

They grow and are picked to share with someone special.

The Tender Flower 🌸 

Toxic Slaves

I’ve never used drugs but everything that goes on in the drug war is toxic.

It’s like looking through a glass hole and watching zombies trying to find a cure for their toxic environment leaching on to providers.

It’s like watching a depressed dizzy king searching for a good thought, it’s toxic.

Drugs are an embarrassment to this earth.

Feed me real food.

Give me divine fruit, practicing doctor, not this witchcraft that drains the life out of me.

I want the good stuff.

Organic alkaline spices to balance out my PH levels to give me divine sight and strength.

Organic fruits and vegetables freshly picked from the gardens of infinite wisdom.

Give me clean music that gives me strength and courage to carryon. 

Give me purified friends and people who seek my better interest.

As I speak into the ears of toxic slaves, give me the force I need to set them free.

The people involved it this greasy dirty drug war are so rotten that everything they get involved with they corrupt.

The saddest part is that they seem so innocent.

They seem so religious.

Fighting for a way to kick the habit.

They attach to good people and literally latch on to them like leaches.

I’ve literally witnessed drugs destroy everything that I love and I’ve grown to hate what this world has become.

There is no innocence.

These people have no where to go.

They use Jesus as an escape goat when deep inside all they think about is a fix.

They get high and destroy the lives of innocent people. 

I want to be kind…

I want to love…

But the toxic slaves have turned me into a soul searching for the true light.

All my life I have watched drugs destroy every race creed and color.

I have seen people get rich and powerful and sit in high chairs dictating like they own the world.

I have been used and abused by people addicted.

These people have literally driven me mad.

I’m angry fighting these demons, they’re everywhere, I don’t know who to trust, who to talk to.

They’re doctors, lawyers, teachers, bums, homeless people, football players, basketball stars, rappers, they’re everywhere and they seem so innocent. They’re addicted to the fast life, burning every soul they touch. I watch them giving God filled testimonies at funerals while leaving a paper trail of dirty needles in bathrooms. 

Pleading with judges for justice, sick from their own medicine. 

This nuisance is the ruthless pit that breeds toxicity. It corrupts sex, and everything it touches.

God help me through this hell of a world.

I have watched even the noblest black and white men fall victim to this filth.

Sometimes it feels like I’m traveling through the underworld fighting to get to heaven because this stuff is everywhere.

It’s toxic, it has destroyed the lives of my friends, my family and it seeps into the lives of the highly accomplished because of envy and greed.

They’re attracted to the light.

God I want to show mercy but I’ve had enough.

Look at your creation, look how corrupt and sleazy we’ve become.

I’m alone in a room, I’m searching for strength that a false God cannot give me.

I have to let the omega power in to fight this beast with everything that I have. 

This toxic beast is all around me, it’s on TV, it’s at my grandma’s house, it’s at the corner store, it’s in my customers and it reeks like filthy rotten eggs.

It’s an imposter that feeds off of souls.

Cleans my heart God…

Purify my soul…

Give me strength in these dark hours because these leaches are all around me trying to suck the little that I do have.

Give me patience as I focus in on everything that this evil has taken from me.

Give me wings to fly and discernment to observe that which I may be too blinded to see.

Give me nobility.

Give me life…

I’m in a world of chaos in which only you can guide me through.

I’ve been fed false teachings in which only you can show me the truth.

Talk to me…

Give me divine knowledge to battle through the devilish ways of the common man.

In difficult days ahead..

Give me the sword of wisdom to purify this toxic world.

And as I battle my own demons, send me an army of angels so they do not take me under.

Toxic souls are acidic, they yearn to be purified with a diluted solution. 

Some toxic souls are so rotten that they dissolve pure substances instantly creating a river that stinks.

The smoke from this toxic river rises creating disease, pesticides, and pestilence that only divine nature can cure.

This toxic filth has given me a cold heart to sniff it out and I’ve grown weary of it.

My heart is heavy while watching this acidic midst kill and destroy everything that I love.

As I get ready for another battle with blood dripping from my sword and enemies all around me, may truth give me strength because the toxic beast has turned me into a warrior yearning to see its end.

Amen, Amun, and Amon.

Alpha and Omega strength to purify this toxic river.

Knowledge and wisdom to dissect and clean the flesh of toxic slaves.

Courage to set them free.

Tuesday, February 15, 2022

Black History Thoughts

It’s black history month and a lot has changed since the good old days.

A lot of people still believe that racism exist but some people have moved on.

Moving on from a brutal history has been very hard but not too many transitions are smooth.

A lot of people are engaging in corrupt activities and doing some very harsh things to survive, but just like all of God’s creation we must learn to be discipline over time.

Even fire must die down.

I’ve decided to stay humble this black history month and just be grateful for the things that I do have.

Maybe try and be a beacon of light in what many feel is a dark time.

There is some good in the world, so I guess that’s what’s important.

I guess the most important part about living is to keep a positive attitude, and just try to stay grateful for what you do have. Optimism is a gift that few people have but I’m sure it can be learned.

Monday, February 14, 2022

With Genuine Love ❤️

Today was a good day.

It was filled with genuine love and that’s  all I could ask for in a good day.

I spoke with my Aunt Rose and we shared some good thoughts.

I even got to bond with some cousins.

I sent out my much love shoutouts and I got to watch a halftime show filled with street legends. They looked so happy performing with older rap and singing wisdom. Time is humble.

I haven’t felt the touch of a female in a long time but sometimes that’s a good thing.

I’ve become disciplined and filled with God’s humble grace.

Today was a good day filled with love.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring but today’s love was enough to get me through the week.

It was filled with Genuine Love ❤️ 

Sunday, February 13, 2022

The Coach

I was introduced to this thing called sports…

I got to be coached by a coach…

It took me a while to figure out why the coach was always there.

In my sleep…

At my house…

At practice…

At my games…

In my classroom…

The coach was like my mother, teacher, father, uncle, grandpa, sister, aunt, grandmother and brother.

The coach was always there.

The coach believed in me.

The coach gave me a chance and put me in the game.

I don’t even think the coach had anything else better to do but coach.

The coach’s passion was coaching.

The coach only had one job, that could never pay enough because all the coach seemed to want to do was coach.

Every play I gave one hundred and ten percent because I believed in the coach.

The coach turned me into a believer.

Even when I lost the coach made me feel like a winner.

The coach.

Sunday, February 6, 2022

Billions of People

 I think the animals are trying to tell me something. They keep coming into my house, getting in my car, and swimming in my pool. Yesterday a bear broke into my garage and stole my snacks. The birds are doing some odd things also. I couldn’t help but wonder if it’s just me or maybe they’re trying to communicate. I’m taking a run and I think this duck and his family are telling me to get the hell out of the way as they cross the street. What a day. Just like there’s billions of people, I guess there’s billions of animals too. I went hunting and it almost seemed as though they were hunting also. It’s a wild world we live in, wild.

Thursday, February 3, 2022

The Movement

James saw his brother killed by the authorities. His friends pushed him and kept encouraging him to file a lawsuit.

Realizing the damage that had already been done, James went in the house ate some spaghetti and went to sleep.

The Movement.

Tuesday, February 1, 2022

Born into Oppression

This was my career, I was a professionally trained informant. On my first mission, I ended up having to arm myself after my transportation convoy was ambushed. Me and a few of my men escaped the ambush only to stumble into a part of war that we were not ready for. Running through wet grass we crossed paths with children and families seeking refuge. One of the children had been bleeding after falling from a fence into my arms. I began to comfort him.

“Little child don’t give up, I hear you crying,” I said comforting him rushing him to safety.

It turns out that we escaped right into a nearby refugee camp run by peacekeepers. Me and my men were determined to help. We introduced ourselves to the peacekeepers and vowed to help them so we called for backup and I volunteered to go out to try and save more people. I pulled my binoculars out only to notice the diabolic militant army dragging more people into the death chambers. “Oh my God, they’re burning and hanging them. ‘People!’”

I felt compelled by some unusually good force to dive right in and help. Noticing some of my men being dragged into the torment from the ambush, I fell to my knees in the pouring rain. All I could hear was screaming. Women being beaten until numb while the soldiers threw their children into the torture chambers. This was wild.

I sat in my safe zone trembling reaching for my gun.

The torture zone was fenced in with a small hole where some people had escaped. The screams grew louder as I got closer. 

“Oh God, this is a death camp. This is hell on earth.

This supremacy thing has gone a bit too far,” these were the thoughts that kept flowing through my mind.

“These people are exterminating races of human beings. This is crazy!”

Falling to the ground, dirty from heavy rainfall and sick to my stomach from the smell of human flesh being burned, the sound of children screaming echoed through my ear drums. Children from every creed and race except one.

I called for backup, I thought I’d been spotted. 

I had to regain my balance while shifting my attention to all of the human bones thrown in a large hole in the ground.

I then throw-up falling to my knees again.

I could hear footsteps getting closer but I didn’t see anyone.

The screaming got even louder.

There’s no luck in this camp, there’s no good, only torment and vibes of evil oppression.

At the moment I’m the only hope for these people.

They’ve been hiding only to get caught;

Screaming only to be tortured.

Begging for God’s help only to be shown no mercy.

I’m the hero in this story, this story has no end nor beginning. It only has a place in history. This death camp was all these people knew. The fact is that these human beings were being used, abused and exterminated. The moment we made it out we all became survivors, traumatized, never to forget. These kids and families out here had been born into oppression. This was all they knew, nothing more, in their mind they never comprehended triumph only torment.