Tuesday, March 7, 2017

Trump Card

 Editor's Note: It is not our practice to present the work of those who don't wear the 'red jumpsuit,' but Leroy was moved by the particular piece and felt the need to share. Please enjoy.


The 2016 presidential election has been an ongoing topic of discussion in our creative writing class.  It would seem that the newly elected president Trump has been the stone that sharpens the literary swords of my brothers who fight with the pen.

The following spoken word piece was created by “Dee-Kay.” It is a powerful perspective coming from someone who ‘Donnie’ might assume his political views are in line with his presidential bigotry. “Let’s Make America Great Again.”

I only wish you could have heard Dee-Kay’s delivery, as well as the overwhelming applause that followed.  Here’s the next best thing.  I know give you, “Trump Card.”

Always 100,

Copyright © 2017 by Leroy Elwood Mann


By Dee-Kay

Young Emmett Till got killed for speaking to a white lady.
Just 14 years old, they shot and killed someone’s baby.
Tied a fan to his neck and tossed him overboard.
Not even an open casket changed our hearts, how long, oh Lord?

Meanwhile, Don brags about grabbing pussy with his hand
His reward? Elected to the highest office in the land.
Praised for his honesty, his conviction his drive,
While his racist, sexist comments get excused and are allowed to thrive.

We exonerate Emmett’s killers; ignore dead black bodies in the streets,
But say, “boys will be boys” when it comes to Donald’s tweets.
After the trial, Emmett’s killers admit to doing it, but still walk,
But Don, oh he was just engaging in locker room talk.

“That’s the past” you say, back then were a different time,
But look at our jails today, and you think that being black was a crime.
And it’s not that things are different.  It’s just the names that have changed,
Lynch mobs became country clubs; we made prison bars from slave chains.

If justice were truly color blind, then we wouldn’t base guilt
On the size of your bank account, or the number of businesses you’ve built.
But I guess there’s something about that name,
And for Donald, you don’t need to look hard,
To see that when you’re rich and white in this country,

You’ve got the ultimate Trump card.

Wednesday, February 8, 2017

Sweeping This Platform


In this modern era, where the media plays a critical role in the public perception of a capital murder defendant, and jurors are rarely sequestered, the race of a victim, will either inspire racist tactics by cops and prosecutors – to win a conviction.  Or, stage a fraudulent gesture of leniency toward a defendant whose life hangs in the balance of Criminal (In) Justice.

Jury discrimination; abuse of discretion; prosecutorial misconduct; just a few examples of legal terminology that define the scales of justice a weapon of mass destruction.  If the victim is of Caucasian descent, an African-American defendant will more than likely be portrayed as some type of menacing gorilla; a hulking monster that lives to kill.

In one particular North Carolina case, these words were printed in a go-to media publication, during the trial of an African-American male: “WTF U NEED A TRIAL FOR? HANG THAT MONKEY.” “I say kill him right now.  I will do it myself.” “Why even have a trial and waste my hard earned tax dollars on this scumbag? He should have been hung before sundown on the day of his arrest.”

This brand of furor should never reach the eyes and ears of jurors as they exercise their civic duties.  However, most trial judges in North Carolina choose to trust that a human being can shut down the senses of sight and sound at the mere mention or visualization of the media’s interpretation of the current capital murder trial he/she may be attending as a juror.

Darryl Hunt was released from prison on December 24, 2003.  From December 2007 – May 2008, the releases of Jonathan Hoffman, Glen Chapman, and Levon “Bo” Jones followed.  Three of the four served time on North Carolina’s death row.  Combined, the four African-American males served 60 years for crimes they did not commit.  Each of them had faced all – or nearly all – white juries.  This is far from criminal justice reform.

W2TM is a platform that enhances the compassion and rationale of human species left to believe justice is blind, and evenly served from the proverbial balanced scales dangling from the fingers of “Lady Justice.” In the span of six years and four months, W2TM has been the manifestation of the counter-culture behavior that sweeps away the judicial trickery-providing an unencumbered view of the ever-growing rates off mass incarceration, as well as the unsettling numbers of lives being eradicated by the state’s practices of death-dealing.

This W2TM movement will continue to bring clarity when racial injustice is accepted as the norm, and cops are supported by the law when they choose to upgrade their responsibility to “protect and serve” civilians, to that of judge, jury, and executioner, for those they deem unworthy of their protection.

It seems to me, viewing life through a civilized eye entails seeing the humanity in the people we trust to be impartial.  A traffic stop or capital murder trial can become uncivilized in the blink of an eye.  We can only begin to see the real when the dust clears.  W2TM remains dust free.

Holla if ya hear me, 

Copyright © 2017 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Monday, January 16, 2017

Ain’t It Funny?


Life is funny: sometimes to the degree where it is not funny at all.  In saying that, I need to apologize to my brother for the many times I have laughed at situations that are not funny.  “That shit ain’t funny, Lump.”

So much hurt within my lifetime, I have a tendency to ‘roll with the punches’ whenever I encounter an unpleasant discussion that has the potential to shatter my optimism.  So, I laugh as a means of taking the sting away from the pain.  Forgive me, D, I know everything ain’t funny.  Sometimes I am simply laughing to avoid crying.

For example, when I heard that Donald Trump would throw his name into the race to become our 45th president, I laughed.  ‘This dude can’t be serious.  Ain’t no way he’s gonna become president.  He doesn’t even have a political background.” I laughed again.

I laughed at his uncouth responses to illegal immigration, the war on terror (ISIS), and federal income taxes, all throughout his republican primary campaign.  Then, he won the primary.  I stopped laughing.  The stakes had changed.  He was now one victory away. One victory away from obliterating the progress of the last eight years.  One victory away from annihilating the precedent set by Rowe vs. Wade; A historical shift that permits women to exercise pro-choice.

Do you think it is a coincidence that requests for IUDs has increased by 900% since Trump’s election became a reality?  There is nothing funny about that.

As a man, I am disgusted by Trump’s verbal assaults on women.  As an American, I am outraged by the large percentage of white women voters (53%) who voted for Trump.  This is the same presidential candidate who told television reporter, Billy Bush, that groping women without their consent is foreplay to the inevitable act of a celebrity getting whatever he wants.

Sadly, there are millions of girls and women who have fallen victim to this primitive and crude behavior.  In some cases an unwanted pregnancy is the result.  So tell me, should it be illegal for this victimized woman or girl to have an abortion?  Does she deserve to be jailed because a man chose to make her his victim?  This is a strong possibility in a ‘Trump America.’ “That shit ain’t funny, Lump.”

It is, however, funny to me that many Americans believe that Trump will take this country to a higher plateau of global superiority.  When in all actuality he is setting this country back to an era where women did not have a say outside of the parameters of a kitchen.  And their entire existence had to be validated by angry white men who wouldn’t have any problem with the antics and capitalistic rhetoric of the 45th president.

Trump’s campaign was the home of riotous actions. Punches were thrown.  People were arrested.  Trump even encouraged some of his supports to punch people, who opposed him, in the mouth.  He also declared that he could shoot someone in the middle of 5th avenue and not lose any voters.  “That shit ain’t funny, Lump.”

Ain’t it funny that the 2017 presidential inauguration will be a direct contrast to the historical observance of Dr. Martin Luther King; A man who stood tall against the white supremacy that Donald Trump exudes.

Ain’t it funny that our president elect still finds time to twiddle his thumbs to edify his cyber-bully persona?  “I don’t know much, but I know how to get angry white men to vote for me.” Really?  I wonder why.  “That shit ain’t funny, Lump.”

I know, I know, D.  Everything ain’t funny.

Always 100,

Copyright © 2017 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Monday, January 9, 2017

I Rest My Case

I don’t have many memories of my dad.  A party when I was maybe 3.  He was choking the neck of a champagne bottle.  When he saw me, he told Moms to get the camera.  My dad kissed my cheek, put his cigarette between my fingers, and tucked my other hand around the base of the bottle.

I can still feel his arm over my shoulder as he said, “C’mon, Bee.  Get a shot of me and my Lil’ Mann.”

Other than that, the extent of my memories with him revolves around the disturbing presence of sirens, screams, and chaos.  Throughout the years, people have told me:
You’re no different from them,
You’re just like all the rest.
But at 1st glance, my 2nd chance is a SON
That sets in the West… Courtesy of Compton!

You don’t know me, so how could you see
I’m a troubled father with a happy SON?
If he can’t get the truth from me, Word is bond
He’ll get it from no one.

They put me away for killing when killing
Wasn’t a part of my mental
This is highly confidential.
But fuck it, SON
This ain’t no truth I deem to be incidental

21 years after the fact,
I’m labeled a killer so killing me might
Kill the memory.
The blood in your vein, however
Will register the pulse of my name forever.

So their story can NEVER be our story
Now is the time to give you mine; a history
Without the gloss of commercial fame and glory

There were always good times, and some bad
With women throughout my life
The victim in this case was a dear friend
My codefendant was my wife
I said, “My codefendant was my wife.”
Pain and strife;
Stabbing me in the heart like my daddy’s knife
SON, here’s a picture of my Life:
My dad did time at Rahway, he was killed at 31
Murder was the case for Moms; I’m guilty
Of being her youngest,
The only one of 3 who can say I’ve done this.

Not the crime of murder,
For which I was charged and strung up
Like Nat Turner.
“Done this” implies living through death
When there should be no life left

I’m 48 now, still thriving and surprising my captors
And their execution klan
Accusers will not understand a Mann
They’re more receptive to a defendant pointing
Fingers from the witness stand

They couldn’t smell the gunpowder
Or hear the kill shot ringing louder
Than it did that fateful night
I know, I know, I know it wasn’t right
To protect the one responsible for all this hurt
But SON, it’s a wonder my eyes ain’t covered in dirt

There’s beauty in barely being able to blink
Seeing so much to live for
My Lil’ Mann playing football
And my Lil’ Mama all grown at 4

Let this voice be the wind
That blows through the tip of a pen
It’s a different world in here
A bubble-type atmosphere
I can shout “INJUSTICE” at the top of my lungs
And it still falls on deaf ears

Hear this punctured heart that bleeds
All over my sleeves;
A truth beating at the base of the next generation’s eardrum:

I am a troubled father,
With one happy SON
I rest my case…

Still Livin’

Copyright © 2017 by Leroy Elwood Mann