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

The Mann You Don’t Know

Hotep,

Deuce

As the 3^rd 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

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

Shaking Things Up!

Hotep,

Everyday at 2pm, the prison is locked down for the first of three formal counts.  Only the officers doing the math are permitted to move during these counts.  Well, today (8/23/11) was different.  This is the day that the east coast shook.  Real talk.

Just before 2pm, an earthquake reaching 5.8 magnitude, shook the walls and doors of this mausoleum, better known as Central Prison.  I was shaving when the cell doors began to vibrate, which isn’t unusual.  You see, whenever the ventilation system is propelled to full blast, the cell doors will vibrate, but I didn’t feel a high powered breeze coming through the vent.  So, I went to the cell door to see if there was an officer responsible for the vibrating door.  There wasn’t.

Standing there holding my razor, I could see other faces beginning to appear in the windows of their cell doors.  Faces stamped with looks of uncertainty.  A few were compelled by their uncertainty to turn their radio dials to National Public Radio News.  When it was revealed that we had just experienced an earthquake, my thoughts immediately went to my fam.  I prayed that everyone was fine.  I was overwhelmed with relief when I caught the 5 o’clock news report.  From Philly down to Raleigh, no earthquake casualties were reported.  Whew!

I lived in Cali for 3 years.  The ground shook once in those 3 years.  Fortunately, I wasn’t aware of what was happening until the next day.  I slept right through it.  Real talk.

It makes you wonder: How can we go 1 minute without acknowledging the grace and mercy of our Creator?  I mean, in an instant, millions of lives could’ve been lost.  One minute we’re just going through the motions of our existence, and then the Creator decides to shake things up to help you regain your focus.  Feel me?

How could I not think of this building being reduced to rubble?  Philly (my boot) and my Braun battery operated razor would become relics of the author formerly known as MannofStat.  Death penalty supporters would call it poetic justice, but the favor of my Creator has granted me another expression to speak into the ears of the masses.  Ya heard?

We don’t live in a perfect world People.  The Creator knows this better than any of his creations.  The eastern seaboard was shaken, not just to get my attention, but the attention of anyone who has something at stake in this lifetime.  Humanity is still an option, People.

We have another opportunity to make things right.  Mend the wounds of hate and give humanity a chance.  Many lives were spared today.  If the Creator can do it, why can’t you?

Keep on Keepin,

MannofStat

NP 4 Life

Copright © 2011 by Leroy Elwood Mann