Editor's Note: I feel the need to explain the gap in the postings to Word to the Masses (W2TM). Let me start by saying that Leroy is fine and writing as much as ever. As his editor for W2TM, I take great care in making sure his expression is representative of the Mann I know.
A crisis in my own life has prevented me from performing my duties consistently over the past year. As things take a turn for the better, my focus can now return to W2TM. Leroy appreciates your continued support and looks forward to sharing his literary expression with you for the foreseeable future. Rochelle
A crisis in my own life has prevented me from performing my duties consistently over the past year. As things take a turn for the better, my focus can now return to W2TM. Leroy appreciates your continued support and looks forward to sharing his literary expression with you for the foreseeable future. Rochelle
This is dedicated to Ms. M. NourbeSe Phillip (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M._NourbeSe_Philip
) the author of ZONG!
Capital punishment is the tumultuous waters surrounding my
being. It seems the soul of a Mann is
suited to sail the swells of where I don’t belong; like a ZONG!
Holding precious cargo, water wherever my eyes go. Waves of destruction, currents of
extinguishment. Lives enveloped by seas
of greed. Various cultures and tongues
trapped and bereaved.
* Evidence is sustenance
is support
is the law
the ship is the captain
is the
crew
perils is the trial
is the
rains
is the seas
is the
currents
the case
is
murder * (ZONG! #24)
ZONG! Is bubbles under water
ZONG! Is literary rock climbing.
ZONG! Is the blueprint of watery skies, within the eyes of
one forced to swallow their demise. The
soul never dies.
Drown me in your corruption and my voice grows louder as it
rises beyond the surface of insidious mental entrapment. Once suffocated by your law, my legacy now
levitates above you all. The wave of
contempt crashing against my physical existence stings my flesh but strengthens
the tendons and bones of perpetuated literary expression.
The Who? Where? Was…
The It, When? How?
What have I become?
ZONG! Is my parallel experience.
ZONG! Is a story that must be absorbed because it can’t be
told.
Like a building burning with children screaming at the tops
of their lungs. Voices rising within the
flames, leaving behind burnt flesh without names.
The 60-plus homes incinerated. The city’s fraudulent response to restore
what was lost.
Is this ZONG!?
Or is this the concrete coffin encapsulating my memories?
It is frustration. It
is chaos. It is the cacophonous eruption of voices impeded by violence. Where is the justice? Why is there no peace?
I can only sing a song with the Earth, Wind and
Fire cascading my desires, for freedom, racial equality, and the reparations
for the men thrown overboard – into the abyss of a death chamber – as I stood
on deck and did nothing but remember.
Who is this that proclaims my life ends on a particular day? My hour is unknown to man if it is in THE
CREATOR’S plan, my exhumation from the depths of reproof is already at hand.
Still Livin,’
MannofStat
Copyright © 2015, by Leroy Elwood Mann
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