Saturday, December 31, 2011

CaveMann: Back to the Beginning

Hotep,
Its 2012. A New Year. A grand opportunity to shed your disappointments of the last 365. Feel me? According to the Mayan codex, 2012 is projected to be the end of the sensible world. Be easy, Blogsphere. It’s far from my intent to stir a panic concerning human civilization. So pump your brakes and keep looking in your rearview. The rationale of my point is riding the bumper of your speculation. I suggest that you fasten your seat belts.
Everyday breeds an ending to someone’s physical existence. Should we panic? No! Eventually everyone has an appointed place and time in which this worldly existence will end for them. The fact that you have another day to even consider panicking about what lies ahead is without question a new beginning. Na mean?
When I was sentenced to die in 1997, my initial thought processing concluded I would soon meet my end. That was nearly 15 years ago. I spent the past decade and a half familiarizing myself with the tipped scales of justice. Not overwhelming myself with emotion of frustration and anxiety about how my life was going to end. Real talk.
I’m amazed by the evolvement of technology; the genius of the I-Phone, the visual escape of Skyping or the road awareness upgrade for the crème de la crème of automobiles, the Mercedes Benz. I mean, when I left the street road awareness was simply blowing your horn. LOL.
A caveman doesn’t have to be some little hairy dude carrying a club and only speaking one syllabled words. The term, “caveman” may come to mind when you think of all of the perks of freedom I’ve missed out on. I don’t mind telling you that I’m not offended by that, because whenever I take a trip to the outside hospital or go back to court, the scenery hits me like a Jetsons’ cartoon. Feel me?
Inside these walls, everything remains the same. Clothes House and sheet change is every Tuesday and Thursday. The library book cart shows up like clockwork every Wednesday. The weekly movies are shown on Fridays and you can’t get past the harassment of certain C.O.’s when you attempt to improvise their scheduling. This existence can easily be perceived as “Stone Aged.”
But, I have a whole new year to look forward to. I refuse to allow the fact of 2011 ending with me behind these “Stone Aged” walls; undercut my future contributions to the Masses in 2012. It’s back to the beginning, people. It’s a new year to improve on the evaluation of Self. Let’s start this New Year in epic fashion. Hopefully we can all get better together. Ya heard?
Happy Kwanzaa,
MannofStat
Copyright © 2012 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Tis The Season

Hotep,

The following expression was written by Chris Gregory.  You may know him from his game winning shots or clutch ball distribution during our annual b-ball tournament.  He also contributed to last February's "Black In the Box" segment (Vol 2:  The Black Family's Commitment is Legendary).
Chris is a man of principle.  He possesses the joy that comes from knowing his Creator.  Over the years he's helped me to understand how good will always outweigh the bad.  "Tis the Season" is the embodiment of the good that Chris carries around with him 365 days of the year.  Hear his words.  Then embrace the joy that follows.  Merry Christmas and Happy New Year Blogsphere!
Much Love,

MannofStat
Copyright (c) 2011 by Leroy Elwood Mann

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"Tis the Season"


Perseverance – Having a hopeful attitude even in difficulties because we’re confident in God’s character – (Our Daily Bread 10-17-11) 

It’s that wonderful time of the year again to celebrate our Savior’s birth!  For those of the Christian faith, we pay honor and worship to our Heavenly Father for sending us a Redeemer.  He’s known by the names of Immanuel, the Prince of Peace and Wonderful Counselor.  I like to refer to Him as Jesus, the Son of the Most High God. 
Here on the row, we have a special candlelight service.  It’s for all who want to participate in songs, scripture reading and refreshments.  For me it’s a time of reflection from joyous childhood memories growing up.  Even though it was just me and my mother at the home place, she seemed to always make miracles for me during the holiday seasons; from decorating our artificial tree, to wrapping presents and shopping at the mall. 
Like lots of kids, she even had me believing in Santa Claus; believing if I wasn’t a good boy, Santa wouldn’t stop by the crib that year for me.  (LOL)  And eating dinner over my grandmother’s house on Christmas Day was a jubilant experience every year!  The laughter throughout the house, Christmas carols and smiling faces, are fond memories seared in my mind that I’ll always cherish deeply!
This year I’ll be spending my seventeenth Christmas on North Carolina’s Death Row.  I would much rather be at home with my family, but since that’s not the case I refuse to let the state of depression and loneliness ruin the joy of this special day!  I’m so blessed and fortunate to still have a loving, supportive cast who comes to visit me throughout the holiday season.  We all pray for my release one day, but at the present moment, my family is so grateful to our Creator to be living and experiencing another year together. 
Knowing that Jesus came into a dark world being our “Light” and “Hope,” I celebrate that Light! A Light that each individual can carry inside of them and one that reflects the goodness of Him that we can share with others, even here on the row.  There’s plenty of brother’s in Christ, including myself who try to exhibit that light of encouragement and hope in this dark place.  During the Christmas season, it’s hard for some here who don’t hear from immediate family to deal with the harsh realities of being on death row. 
This journey is a struggle for me each day too, but when I look back on how God has kept me shielded and protected from harm’s way for so many years, even kept my relationship with my family strong and intact and most importantly, kept my faith in Him and His character (Being a God who does not change like man, but One who still comforts and loves me), I can’t help but be joyous this Christmas! 
So this Christmas like all the past Christmases, I’ll be laughing, singing and smiling with my fellowmen here, knowing that each day is a step closer for me getting home.  May you all be blessed and have a very Happy Holiday season!
Peace,

Chris
Copyright © 2011 by Chris Gregory

Sunday, December 11, 2011

Just A Touch

Hotep,
“Love is just a touch away.” The sentiment behind these words helped me to endure the mental fatigue of my Naval training in the early stages of my 18th year of existence.  As I listened to the legendary crooner express these heartfelt lyrics, I began to understand the weight of something as small as a goodnight kiss, a key element that would be extracted from my life for the next three months.
My brief time in Great Lakes, Illinois was an experience that taught me to appreciate my connection to the people who knew me as I’ve known them.  My fam and my hood showed their support for me as I engaged in what I thought would be the longest three months of my life.  Real talk.
The phone calls, the homemade chocolate chip cookies (good look, Moms), the many scribes and around the way pics were all constant reminders that my placement was a temporary challenge.  One of life’s obstacle courses, an obstacle course with a finish line that was just a touch away.  Feel me?
Prison has seemed like an ongoing obstacle course.  Over the years, I’ve endured the emotional jabs and dropkicks that this life has to offer.  I’ve become well trained in repelling the flaming arrows and poison darts of hopelessness, cynicism and hate.  In order to reach the finish line of this obstacle course, I gotta keep living for tomorrow. 
As the days progress, I’ll continue to grow mentally, spiritually and emotionally, bearing my scars of incarceration with the pride of a Mann who sees beyond this finish line of confinement.  You see, our scars remind us of where we’ve been.  They don’t have to dictate where we’re going and I’m trying to fly far away from here.  Zoom!  Like Lionel Richie, ya heard?
I don’t have access to that classic Freddie Jackson joint, “Love is just a touch away.”  I can’t experience the gentleness of the touch or the warmth of a kiss either, but I’m touched by the love of my peoples.  Your support has given this contender a reason to be a champion.  Word is bond!
The Dabneys, the Wilsons, the Samuels, the Williams and the Carters have all been instrumental in the resuscitation of a Mann.  I’ll see you at the finish line, but until then, please accept this kiss to victory. Mwah!!!
One Love,
MannofStat
Copyright © 2011 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Sunday, December 4, 2011

Blazing a Trail

Hannah Max
http://www.helphannahmax.com/
Hotep,

Your MannofStat loves a story about a positive difference maker; a person who has taken a negative circumstance to produce positive results in the lives of others.  This individual paves the way for others who may have to travel similar paths, but the conditions of the journey will be more familiar and less intimidating, because of the individual who traveled this path before them.  Feel me?
Now, before anyone jumps to conclusions, No!  This post isn’t about my man, Mike Vick.  Real talk.  Mike Vick is just one of many types of trailblazers.  I want to speak on a trailblazer who doesn’t own the traditional celebrity status.  Na mean?
Meet, Miss Hannah Max.  At the tender age of 13, she’s a stellar math and biology student, which is probably enough to make her a trailblazer to most of us, right?  I mean, I didn’t discover biology until I reached the tenth grade and as for math, my most productive degree of counting came as I watched the hands of the clock reach the final minutes of math class.  SMH
Hannah is a native of Rotterdam, Netherlands.  She was diagnosed with stage IV, high-risk neuroblastoma – a rare and deadly childhood cancer that attacks the nervous system.  When she was given the opportunity to enter a cutting edge immunotherapy program at Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia (CHOP), her overseas insurance provider, IZA refused to foot the bill.
The generosity of Philadelphians reached out to Hannah’s plight, to a point of shaming IZA into doing the right thing.  Hannah’s excellent treatment at CHOP has compelled Dutch insurance providers to rethink their policies on sending neuroblastoma patients to CHOP.
Hannah was the first Dutch patient to encounter these particular medical barriers.  Her trailblazing has birthed approvals in mere days.  CHOP can now assess foreign requests for care in cases like Hannah’s within 48 hours, something that would normally take months to concede.  Now, that’s what’s up!!
Hannah’s mother affirms that her daughter’s condition is stable, but could falter if new treatment doesn’t soon become available.  To that I simply say:  Hannah’s legacy will never die.  Her journey has already helped people who haven’t been conceived yet.  Ya heard?
Keep on swinging Hannah!  Your MannofStat is cheering from the front row. You’re a star in my eyes.  Word is bond!!
Much Love,

MannofStat
Copyright © 2011 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Sunday, November 27, 2011

A Heavy Loss

Here’s the situation idiocy

Nonsense violence – not a good policy
Therefore we must ignore fightin and fussin
Hev is at the door so there will be no bum rushin
Let’s get together cause we’re fallin apart
I heard a brother shot another, it broke my heart
I don’t understand the difficulty people
Love your brother, treat ‘em as an equal
-          Heavy D
-          ‘Self Destruction’

Hotep,
Our hip-hop flag will be fliying at half mass this holiday season.  The mic controller, better known as Heavy D has moved on to an eternal existence at the tender age of 44.  To the mass majority, the “Overweight Lover” will probably be best remembered for his laid back, mellow-type of fellow flow.
I can’t front, “Peaceful Journey” and “Don’t You Know” moved me beyond understanding, but “Black Coffee” and the collaboration with Kool G Rap, Grand Puba, C.L. Smooth, Big Daddy Kane, Pete Rock, and Q-Tip, for the making of the 90’s classic “Don’t Curse,” will give any true hip-hop head the nod factor.  Ya heard?
The stop the violence movement began with the consciousness of New York’s M.C’s.  Together, they created the hip-hop anthem of the late 80’s, “Self Destruction.” West Coast rappers responded with: “We’re All In the Same Gang.” For years, hip-hop pundits have debated which coast served the better expression to the ears of the masses.  What say you?
My answer is simple.  The West Coast all-star cast consisted of N.W.A, Tone Loc, Young M.C and Body and Soul.  An all-star cast that could only be eclipsed by the realism of Heavy D on “Self Destruction.” Real Talk.
The stalwart MC, Heavy D, a.k.a. “The Heavsta,” has earned his place in the hearts of hip-hop heads around the globe.  R.I.P., Hev.  It is an honor for me to share your memory on this platform, W2TM.  From MC to MC, I wish you a Peaceful Journey.  That’s what’s up!
Much Love,

MannofStat
Copyright © 2011 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Asante


Hotep,

A penitentiary social setting is designed to give the officers clear visuals of the prisoner’s day-to-day interactions.  The dayroom consists of 6 stainless steel tables with 4 stainless steel seats at each one.  A soda crates that contains playing cards, scrabble boards, dominoes and several chess sets.  A television sits high on the wall closest to the officer’s control station.  There’s on mid-sized television for every 24 inmates.  Real talk.
In this type of setting, no one can watch every program of their liking, but believe me, there are a select few who believe the television came to prison with them.  In their eyes, the television is the answer to their daily dosage of death row reality.  Feel me?
I make conscious efforts to avoid the folly behind the television remote control.  I try not to spend a lot of time in the dayroom.  I enjoy watching sports and Grey’s Anatomy, but for the most part, I keep myself busy with constructive reading material and honing my literary craft.  Na mean?
Loneliness can lead to an assigned seat in the dayroom.  The ink in my pen provides a partition of mental peace.  This partition keeps me away from that assigned seat, a gift from the Creator that I am truly thankful for.  “Asante” (Swahili for Thank You).
Knowing who I am and what my life should be makes it easy for me to get caught up in immediacy.  I often ask myself: “Why am I still here?”  Wouldn’t you?
Our first lady, Michelle Obama recently traveled to South Africa.  While there, she spent some quality time with former South African president, Nelson Mandela, a man who’s more than familiar with the desolation that comes with living inside of a concrete box. Na mean?
Afterwards, the 1st Lady spoke at the Rosa Parks Library in Soweto to the Young African Women’s Forum.  It was there she revealed the answer to my “Why am I still here” question:
“The only thing that happens in an instant is destruction.  Build something…Earthquake; it’s gone, but everything else requires time.  Don’t let the struggle discourage you because it’s hard.  It’s supposed to be hard.”
This year, I’ll be giving thanks for all that is good in my life.  To my fam and supporters, Asante.  The insight and compassion of our 1st Lady is nurturing to a Mann living inside of a concrete box.  Justice can be a long and lonely journey.  Asante.
Peace and Love,

MannofStat
Copyright © 2011 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Me Versus Myself


Hotep,

At some point and time everyone makes decisions that will eventually put them at a disadvantage.  Oh, how sweet it might be to be exempt of the flaw or mere human trait better known as “a poor choice.” For example, as a teen, Moms gave me permission to use her Datsun 210 (I know, ancient history, right? They don’t even make Datsuns anymore.  LOL)  The gas needle indicated the tank was half full, before I left. 
I brought the car back with less than a ¼ tank of gas.  Needless to say, it was a minute before I got the keys to that Datsun again, which put me at an egregious disadvantage because I had to hop the Iron Horse (train), to attend a house party in Logan.  Now if you know North Philly, you’d know that there’s nothing friendly about a house party in Logan.  Na mean?
Throughout my adulthood, I’ve become my biggest critic.  I’m always thinking of ways to better myself.  There’s always room for improvement.  In an environment that is set up to make a sane man go bonkers, love for self minimizes the distractions of living inside the box and advantageous decisions will follow.  Feel me?
Looking in the mirror shows me what people see, but my reflection tells me exactly who I am.  Prisoner #0255136 doesn’t show in my reflection.  Sparse thinking is not a trait of my reflection either.   Diligence, creative thinking and loyalty is what I see when I look into myself. 
My reflection is the facilitator to the people – you may know as “MannofStat,” the Langston Hughes of b-ball commentary, the father of “Day-Day.,” the G-Dad of “Deuce” and the loving son of “Stingin B.” That’s a reflection that makes it easy for me, to love me.  Word is bond!
Standing at the door or 2012, there are still many who anticipate my state sanctioned demise.  A 16 year old decision has put me at a grave disadvantage.  Remaining silent has its consequences.  Despite these unfavorable circumstances, I’m really going to enjoy this holiday season.  You know why?  Because I love my reflection.  My poor choices are a thing of the past.  By the way, I made sure I stopped for gas before I came home.  Ya heard?
Happy Holidays, blogosphere, prosperity awaits us in 2012.
Peace and Love,

MannofStat
Copyright © 2011 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Name and Opus

Hotep,

It’s been said that a picture is worth a thousand words, but a thousand words doesn’t always tell the whole story.  E.g.:  Two smiling faces in a prom picture doesn’t necessarily mean the prom was anything more than a date.  A wedding photo capturing a bride and groom exchanging marital vows shouldn’t be written off as eternal love.  Husband and wife?  Yes.  Soulmates?  Not necessarily.  Feel me? 
Recently I had to take an updated pic for my prison identification card.  It’s currently posted on the N.C death row website.  Right before the pic was taken, the camera operator instructed me to state my full name and opus number.  The digital camera recorded my voice as my pic was being taken:  “Leroy Mann, 0255136.”
At first glance, you may suggest that I was in a bad way.  You could presume that I was saying something derogatory.  Possibly gritting my teeth in frustration or maybe even puckering up to blow a kiss at the camera.  Hopefully, the latter isn’t a popular assumption. LOL.  I was simply doing as I was instructed to do.  Real talk.
All too often, still photos condemn a person’s character and sometimes, their lives.  It’s hard to smile in front of a camera when you’re behind the wall.  My Moms wanted to know why I kept sending her pics, of me, with long faces.  I told her that I didn’t want to give the impression that I might be having a good time or that I may be happy in prison.  She simply told me, “get over it Leroy.  I want to see your smile.” How could I not comply?
My bright smile for Moms can be seen on, “A Death Sentence is No Nap.” (4/21/2010)  This particular post has rubbed some people the wrong way.  Believe me, that wasn’t my intent.  I only wanted to make the Masses aware of my up close and personal experience with the state’s execution protocol.  Na mean?
The smile in that photo wasn’t meant to be offensive and it surely wasn’t a display of arrogance.  I was merely fulfilling a request.  I thank God that I’m still able to give my Moms her smile.  That’s what’s up!  I love you Moms.
Peace,
MannofStat
Copyright © 2011 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Monday, October 31, 2011

Invisible Mann

Hotep,

The freedom. 
The anonymity. 
The power.
At one time, this was my perception of invisibility, endless days and nights of being wherever I wanted to be, whenever I wanted to be there.  Eagles’ games, Sixers’ game, any hip-hop gathering that ever ventured through my city...that's Philly if you didn't know.
Invisibility would give me the jump on crowd control, ridiculous traffic and long lines at the concession stands.  I wouldn’t have to deal with false accusations or mistaken identities.  My light-skinned, 5’8” medium frame would no longer be a commonality.  It would be my business and my business only.  Na mean?
All of this talk about being invisible is a mere fantasy, maybe even childish, right?  But, the truth of the matter is that my existence in North Carolina’s basement (Death Row) for the past 14 years, qualifies me as being invisible to society.  Oh sure, society is aware of a death row prisoner costing the state millions in tax dollars, but to not know me as an individual makes me invisible to a society that sees me as less than human.  Feel me?
Well, on March 13, 2010 I stopped being invisible to society.  Not only can society now see me as an individual, but they can also hear the voice of a Mann that yearns for the justice of freedom. 
The words of truth coming from this Mann, debunks media satire or the furor of detractors hiding behind the guise of anonymity.  Power belies invisibility.  Word is bond! 
The fact that I’ve been reaching the eyes and ears of the world for the last 19 months has convinced me that being invisible is not for a Mann or anyone who has something good to share with the world.  Ya heard?
Deuces,

MannofStat
Copyright © 2011 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Monday, October 24, 2011

The Embrace of Novocain

I still get misty-eyed when I see you on television, whether you’re putting your arm around the Queen of England so endearing or tenderly holding hands with a wounded soldier or sick child.”
-          Sophia A. Nelson


Friends for Life

Hotep,
The above quote has been etched in my mind ever since I turned the pages of “Black Woman Redefined,” a literary window to the core of the professional black woman in America. 
This particular quote was taken from a scribe written by the author – Ms Sophia A. Nelson – to the 1st Lady Mrs. Michelle Obama.
I think very high of our 1st Lady.  I honestly believe that her personality is the Novocain to our country’s pain.  Her mere presence alleviates the stress of childhood obesity.  And she empathizes with any socio-economically challenged community, because unlike most 1st Ladies before her, poverty was not just a topic of discussion.  Feel me?
But, that’s not the reason this quote has left a stain on my mental.  Allow me to exhale:  This blog is my voice.  To know the Mannofstat, you have to understand my homegirl, Rochelle.  She’s the prime example of the good that exudes from a union between an enigma and someone who isn’t afraid to reach out and understand what society may have written off as unredeemable.
Throughout my years in this box, I’ve been cautiously selective about who I communicate with, outside of my family circle.  Having a pen pal is a predominant option for a death row prisoner.  If a prisoner is unconcerned that the initial bond to a complete stranger, is predicated on him/her being a condemned killer, then it can definitely workout for the best.  But see, that’s hard for me to accept, because I’m nobody’s killer and I don’t care to exchange pleasantries with someone who believes that I am.  Feel me?
Rochelle has been a Godsend. Long before I came to prison, long before she left her stamp on Corporate America, we shared a platonic relationship that has the makings of a best-selling novel, but knowing Rochelle, she’s much too modest to admit that, but I’m not.  LOL.
Throughout the last 20 months, Rochelle has introduced me to the world via the blogosphere.  She has educated me on the ups and downs of being a corporate executive and she’s helped me to understand the definition of being “career driven.” Her professionalism is inspiring.  No doubt.
It’s been a privilege to see her life, through her eyes. In April of 2010, Rochelle took me on a helicopter ride to the Grand Canyon and treated me to a champagne brunch on the floor of the Canyon.  She’s taken me to board meetings, NAACP galas and a walk-a0thon to cure breast cancer.  Her recent departure to the grand country of Kenya has given me the opportunity to see the beauty of “The fourteen falls,” near Thika, a creation that I had no idea existed.  Na mean?
The pain of being inside this box is indescribable.  How is it possible for me to believe that I can make a positive difference in today’s society?  Well, the only answer I have is the blessing of a life-long friendship that has embraced me with the warmth of a Kenyan sunrise and the diligence of a North Philly go-getter.  My Novocain.  Ya heard?
So, here I am, bringing my intent to fruition.   Chelle has assisted my career as a writer and helped me to understand my purpose.  It’s no secret that the 1st Lady has done the same for the 44th president and look how that turned out.  Feel me?
Thank you for believing in me Rochelle.  I’ll appreciate you for today, yesterday and the many more years to come.  Happy Birthday Ma!!
Being strong can also be feminine. I don’t think feminine equals week. Being strong is very sexy.”  
- Actress Sanaa Lathan
One Love,

MannofStat
Copyright © 2011 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Hot Chocolate Takes Me Away

Hotep, 

Albert Einstien once theorized that time is an illusion.  He believed that anything we’ve ever wanted in this existence, we’ve already attained in a parallel universe.  Personally, I’d hate to think that there is another me somewhere enjoying my freedom, while I dream of freedom from a death row cell.  Feel me?  But, I would be open to the possibilities of time travel.  Wouldn’t you?
I mean, who doesn’t wonder what life would have to offer if we could physically travel through time?  Now, I’ve voyaged memory lane quite regularly.  This blog is overwhelming evidence of that, but to actually relive the past after living the future would be an opportunity your Mannofstat couldn’t pass up.  Na mean?
I’ve always enjoyed the sweetness and warmth that Hot Chocolate brings, so that would be my means of travel.  A couple of sips and I’d be in the kitchen of Madame C.J. Walker, witnessing the first time she used a straightening comb.  Holla if ya hear me Sistas!
I wouldn’t want to, but I’d have to experience the assassinations of some of this country’s greatest leaders.  I would be compelled to feel the full effect of the Civil Rights Movement and the ugliness of racism.  And you know I’d definitely have to stop by that hospital in Hawaii to see the newborn that would eventually become our 44th president.  That’s right, I said Hawaii Mr. Trump.  SMH
Watching my life from a distance, I would relive my reaction to the death of my biological father.  I’d then take a deep swallow of Hot Chocolate to move onto happier times.  It’s 1973 and I’m posted up on the corner of Marshall and Girard.  I smile as I watch the man that raised me, “Pops,” flick it up with a 5 year old Mannofstat on Easter Sunday.  Afros, butterfly collars and big belts.  Nothing about this visual says: “ Step-parent or Stepchild.” Ya heard?  Love you Pops.
Another sip of Hot Chocolate and I’m in upstate Pennsylvania visiting my brother “D” at his college campus.  Walking those college dorms after homecoming football game was a favorable experience for a 10 year old Mannofstat.  It’s hard to leave this phase of my journey.  Word is bond!  Holla if ya hear me D.  Love you Bro.
Before I take my last sip of Hot Chocolate, I’d have to stop by my grade school, St. Peter’s, that fateful day in 1979.  The day an 11 year old Mannofstat stepped to the girl he believed he’d be with forever.  She eventually became his wife, co-defendant and the reason your MannofStat is currently fighting for his life.  Feel me?
Today, I realize I dedicated my love to the wrong woman.  Real talk.  The law of attraction teaches: “Your life is in your hands.  No matter where you are now, no matter what has happened in your life, you can begin to consciously choose your thoughts and you can change your life.  There is no such thing as a hopeless situation.  Every single circumstance of your life can change!”
I can’t change my past, but I love me some Hot Chocolate.  Here and now, I’m willing to let my Hot Chocolate take me into the future.  That’s what’s up!
One Love,

MannofStat
Copyright © 2011 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Sunday, October 9, 2011

The Judicial Toothache that is Death Row

Hotep,

A toothache can be a crippling experience for the mightiest of men.  The uncertainty of its origin combined with the continuous pounding of an excruciating headache that has the effect of an ongoing brain freeze that would make an orthodontist beg for an extraction.  Believe me, I speak from personal experience.  Real talk.
I was politickin with my youngsta Frost, today (9/12).  We spoke on everything from Hurricane Irene, to the message behind the acronym, “KRS-ONE.” That’s Knowledge Reigns Supreme Over Nearly Everyone for those of you who aren’t familiar with the greatest MC ever to bless the microphone.  Word is bond!
My man Frost is a likable cat who speaks well beyond his 23 years.  I feel it’s only right that I’m able to relate to this youngsta.  Considering the fact that he’s the same age as my own son, I feel the need to share my wisdom and life experience with someone his age.  Not only because I can hear my son’s life perspective in his words, but mainly because it has become my mission to reach out to anyone enduring this judicial toothache, better known as Death Row.  Feel me?
Death row can drain an individual of all self-worth.  Leaving them vulnerable to pessimism, this in turn induces their evolvement of becoming a product of this environment.  Daily debates about the television, personally assigned seating arrangements in the dayrooms, the weak preying on the weaker…  a formula that produces emotional anguish beyond the understanding of the average individual living on the other side of this wall.  Na mean?
This toothache decimated my personal ambitions and put me in a circumstance that has proven to be a gift, wrapped within a curse.  Overwhelmed by being reduced to a mere number, no longer able to be in the ongoing company of loved ones and remission of choice, to come and go as I please and wear the clothes of my liking.  Sixteen years of peeling through these pessimistic layers has allowed me to solemnly serve my purpose.  Rather than seething about my present circumstance, I’m helping youngstas like Frost to understand that pessimism is an emotion not a philosophy.  My method for the extraction of pain.  Ya heard?
Keep it 100

MannofStat
Copyright © 2011 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Sunday, October 2, 2011

Me and My Boot

Hotep,

As you should already know, I strained my left Achilles tendon back in July (Old Mann, http://word2themasses.blogspot.com/2011/08/old-mann-real-reality.html).  It’s been a frustrating process, but educational as well.  Educational in the sense of, I’m learning more about my body as I continue to age gracefully.  LOL. And, it’s frustrating because this particular injury puts my Kunta Kinte thing on ice, indefinitely.  Na mean?
Philly
For the past week, I’ve been concerned about going under the knife again, but the doctor feels that my injury will heal with time and proper care.  So, rather than face another surgery on the same leg, I was sentenced to wear a walking boot for the next two months. 
This walking boot is hideous.  It’s equipped with an ankle splint, 5 Velcro straps and an exterior that resembles the latest Frankenstein footwear.  It covers my leg from toes to knee and it weighs at least 3lbs.  When I’m walking throughout the unit everyone knows I’m coming.  I feel like I have an RV strapped to my leg.  SMH.
This boot has been a constant reminder of how I tend to get swallowed up by my undying love for the game of basketball.  This injury isn’t as bad as it could’ve been, but it was severe enough to make a brother reinvent a negative circumstance, to bring forth positive results.  Feel me?
I figure, since I’ll be lugging this 3lb apparatus around for the next couple of months, I may as well embrace the company and give it an identity, an identity that would aspire rather than frustrate me.   Let’s see: The Mike Vick story is inspiring, without question.  I can see a Super Bowl in our very near future.  The saga of “Rocky” inspired an entire generation. 
Teaching us that those who fight for what they want will experience a flavor the sheltered will never know.  And my man Will Smith created an inspirational summer time anthem over 20 years ago, that still makes me reminisce about my days in front of the water plug or behind the wheel as I cruised the plateau.  Yeah.  Now that’s inspiring.  Ya heard?
The verdict is in people.  My city is the common denominator of all three of these inspirational examples.  Allow me to make a proper introduction: Blogosphere, meet “Philly.”  The much needed inspirational jolt, that will get me back into Kunta Kinte mode and the definitive symbol of why I need to stay off the court.  But, for the record my jump shot is still water.  Word is bond!
Stay tuned,

MannofStat
Copyright © 2011 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Looking Into A Tear

Hotep,

A scraped knee…a busted lip… a jammed thumb.  The discomfort of these ailments is enough to make a child cry.  In some cases, even an adult will shed a tear due to some physical anguish.  No matter how you look at it, pain is just a part of life.  Whether it is physical or emotional, at some point pain will breed a tear.  Na mean?
Throughout my stint in prison, I’ve experienced the pains of a torn ACL, a severely strained Achilles heel, a broken finger, several foot surgeries and a toothache that would make a shark go vegan.  Ya heard?  Crying as a result of these pains was never a factor.  I guess it would appear as though I’ve become immune to physical pain, but that’s far from being the case.
As I’ve grown older and become somewhat wiser, I’ve come to understand the tear as being a jewel of one’s soul.  For me, physical pain is no longer worthy of my soul’s treasure chest.  Now the birth of my grandseed is worthy of a tear.  The sight of my Moms during her toddler years warrants a tear.  Happiness and gratitude have the capabilities to muster waterfalls of my inner jewelry, but know this; the thought of my years inside this box is definitely worthy of a jewel or two.  Word is bond!
Last month, the release of the “West Memphis Three” made headlines.  One of the 3, Damien Echols was sentenced to die.  The other two defendants were serving life sentences for the murders of 3 eight year old boys.  It is believed that the murders were a by-product of satanic cult activities.  Damien Echols wore all black clothing.  He listened to heavy metal music and even considered himself a Wiccan.
For 18 years, the courts viewed these men as grotesque murderers.  Many were convinced of Damien Echols’ guilt, but there were others who were immediately skeptical.  They felt he was singled out for being an outsider in a small town.  Supporters such as singers, Eddie Vedder and the Dixie Chicks held benefit concerts on their behalf.  Books were written and a documentary was made to jump-start the “Free the West Memphis 3” movement.
After nearly two decades of being referred to as “child killers,” Judge David Laser vacated their previous convictions and ordered a new trial.  Prosecutors then allowed the men to enter “Alford” guilty pleas, a plea that permits a defendant to maintain his/her innocence while admitting that pleading guilty is in their best interest. Real talk.
16 years in this box for a murder I didn’t commit.  A hip-hop artisit in love with his craft.  My promotional photos were a comprehensible display of my hip-hop culture and there is no doubt that I was singled out for being an outsider in a small town.  The jewels of my soul flow heavily when I weigh these factors of my case, but you can believe the faucet will continue to flow when I walk out of this prison to make the most of my second chance.  That’s what’s up!
Keep it 100,

MannofStat
Copyright © 2011 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Sunday, September 18, 2011

The Mann You Don’t Know

Hotep,
Deuce
As the 3rd anniversary of my grandseed’s humanly existence approaches (9/24), I find myself torn between the pride and frustration of being a Mann. 

Only God knows how much I’d rather be assisting Daveante Sr., in giving “Deuce” a grand b-day celebration.  I’ll tell you, being parked inside this box isn’t going to permit that, but my current situation isn’t irrevocable.  Na mean?

I have to say asante (Thank you) to my Creator and all parties involved in the good that has taken place in my life.  The good has been my window seat throughout my tour of negativity, giving me a clear view of the Mann on the inside.  This box isn’t the end of my journey; it’s been more of a temporary education center.  I’ve learned so much about myself, much about other people and much more about what it means to be free.  Feel me?
This blog isn’t just about me; “W2TM” is a manifestation of my people’s love.  It’s a reflection of the knowledgeable people around me and the blueprint for the people who come from me (Holla if ya hear me, Day-Day).  These words are the breath of my existence.  My expressions expel the myths about the Mann on the inside and reveal the facts about the Mann you don’t know.  Ya heard?
If I could provide a world free of high risks and failures, I would grant my grandseed this and much more, but for now my beloved “Deuce,” my b-day gift to you is my offering of the truth about the Mann you don’t know.
Now I know that you’re far too young to comprehend the impact of my words.  I’d much rather you got to know your G-dad up close and personal.  I’ll continue to strive for freedom, but my words are available now.  In time, you will understand exactly what I’m saying.  I am “Lump” to my fam & friends.  I am also “Dad” to your dad, “Doc” to my hip-hop community, “Leroy” to our government and MannofStat to cyberspace.  But, to you – and for now, only you – I’ll always be “G-dad.”
Your Dad, Day-Day
We share a bloodline that’s filled with purpose Deuce.  Poverty, tragedy nor prison can change that.  You are a part of the good that is happening in my life Lil’ Mann, my window seat indeed.  So Happy Born, Daveante Elwood Mann, Jr., a.k.a., “Deuce.”  G-dad will always be with you.  Real talk.
Your G-Dad

Much love,

MannofStat a.k.a., “G-dad
Copyright ©2011 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Sunday, September 11, 2011

The Art of Expression

Hotep,

As long as I have this platform, I’m always going to have something to say.  It’s been a blessing, not only for me, but for those closest to me, as well.  Using this blog as a canvas and allowing my words to paint an expression, is something that I was meant to do.  Writing is second nature to me because I’ve always had something to say.  Na mean?
Through this blog, I’ve introduced you to the expressions of Mr. Blue, Bucktown and Bigg Dogg.  Today the stage belongs to J-Rock.  A quiet brother with much to say, the recent death of Amy Winehouse sent J-Rock into a poetic fit.  He calls this expression, “Heroine vs heroin, Mourning vs morning.
Conscientiousness can be an open door.  This particular thinker has welcomed us to explore, the depths of his mental, getting all in you like intestinal.  It’s no longer a mystery why J-Rock is on point like a decimal.
Allow him to explain the main course before you feast on his poetry.  I assure you, your literary hunger will be well fed.  Word is bond!
One,

MannofStat
Copyright © 2011 by Leroy Elwood Mann



The Art of Expression
My connection to Amy Winehouse is through the struggle.  Her music is a testimony of wanting to be free.  It’s no secret people are oppressed.  Everywhere someone is a victim, a political prisoner, an addict and suffering is just part of their day.
For an African American young man it is common to see your peers stereotyped by the media, mistreated by the courts and beat by the police.  Usually the blame is poverty.  Otherwise, paparazzi will assign a victim and a person to be responsible.  Well, what about Amy?
This is my responsibility in life to be positive and constructive.  So the experience of writing this piece is an accomplishment on its own.  To share my thoughts with words is a blessing, it’s a great feeling.  It wasn’t until after the poem was complete that I realized mourning and heroin could be used differently like a homonym.  So, this expression was my own reminder of how words can be a weapon like a two-edge sword.  The alphabet is amazing.  All it takes is one letter to turn a weakness into a strength.
I wish I had the chance to hear more songs by Amy.  Her death moved me to write about her life as well as others including my own.  It is often said that a painting or piece of art will find you and grab your attention.  I hope this gets someone’s attention like it got mine.
Amy Winehouse was a beacon of hope, a warning, a signal to keep fighting no matter what.  As long as we struggle to live, her inspiration will never end. 

Heroine vs heroin
Mourning vs Morning
 
The world is dark/ You are my night vision – Close to my heart
What is my left – hook?
When my death is in jeopardy.
Love poison this eulogy.
I’m poised / Suspended in your rite of passage – pass me.
We don’t need magic to imagine AMY BEING checkered free.
No Alcohol / Not even a wine-house,
Maybe then, they might recognize real tragedy.
You are the right prescription / The bloods Attack
I can’t refuse / Its so wrong to hold back.
Can Not deny the place where I belong.
Inside your fire  / my heat understands / Your strength / Your warning
The world is getting brighter.
Good / Its mo’_’rning!
Never forget the emphasis on yo’U’
Where everything is black / Pray the STARS will have a better view.
I’m feeling dumb – surrounded by hoodlums / Cadillac Music.
Choose quick / I should let you write about the THUG LIFE /+ AND Who Wins?
Can’t forget your cataract / Gangster Waterfalls – NEVER END
Remember LeFT Eye / Shed so many tears
My vision blurred in fog / So why bother – Dear Mama.
No Psalm / The hate you gave little infants  ~ F^^k Everyone
Smoking marijuana bong / Tupac stay calm.
Your poetry is like a street CAR name
Desire-in my ARMS – Heroine you’re not alone.
Love stay STRONG