A Voice Will Travel

Hotep,

Reading is fundamental.  My 20/20 has explored thousands of pages from books authored by professors, lawyers, activists, athletes, addicts and death row prisoners, throughout my time in this box.  During the earlier stages of my bid, I read a story about a man who whispered his message into the wind and the entire community heard his voice as it traveled.

Now, I’m sure some of you would probably turn the page and continue with the story, but me?  I had to put the book down and marinate on that visual.  As I’m sure you can see, the thought continues to stain my mental.  Feel me?

My interest in reading is founded on the voice of the writer.  Reading words can easily become a tedious practice, but hearing the voice behind the words can add a dimension to your existence that becomes essential to the understanding of your purpose.  Na mean?

Many voices have been silenced, while others possess a tone that’s barely above a whisper.  I’d like to think of my voice as a subtle roar, a roar riding the winds of this blogosphere.  Reaching the ears of the world and adding that much needed dimension to the existence of the masses.  Ya heard?

As I think of my days in the recording studio, I can recall the high adrenaline rush of being inside the sound booth.  Anticipating the inevitable union between my thoughts and  a blazing track.  The creation felt good as it left my soul and became a recording.  Then the engineer would fine tune the horns, the snares, the high hats and the piano.  But to me, the music was always perfect.  It was my voice that I was unsure of.

The uncertainty was short-lived.  As my voice traveled, my lyrics rolled off the tongues of others.  I grew more confident with my voice when I looked into the audience of a New York hip-hop club and saw heads nodding to my expression, females dancing to my sound and handshakes awaiting my acknowledgement as I departed the stage. 

Those memories are worth more than anything a deceased politician on a green piece of paper can give you.  Priceless!  But know this, People:  my voice has gone from the high pitch of Mike Tyson, to the baritone of Barry White since those days.  My sound is much deeper now.  Ya heard?

Voice – the right or opportunity to express a choice or opinion.

American Heritage College Dictionary 

Live Well,

MannofStat

Copyright © 2012 by Leroy Elwood Mann

The Profile of An Enigma

Hotep,

The following expression was created by Brother Jamil.  Not only is he one of the many ballers here on the row, more importantly he’s a brother with something to say.  He shoots the gift of literary expression just as fluently as the release on his jumpshot.  Na mean?

One of the good things about having to live on the 1^st floor was getting reacquainted with my homie Jamil.  I’m honored by his contribution to this blog.  Word is bond!

As the point guard of this W2TM movement, I’ve elected to get Jamil into the flow of this blogosphere.  I have yet to regret getting him the rock when we’re on the b-ball court.  So, I’m highly confident about feeding his literary hunger with the spotlight of W2TM.  I assure you, this Worthy Opportunity will Reveal his Diligence.  Ya heard?

The ball is in your hands Jamil.  Go ahead and drop some knowledge on the Masses.

Be Easy,

MannofStat

Copyright © 2012 by Leroy Elwood Mann

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The Profile of An Enigma 

They take my kindness for weakness

They take my silence for speechless

They consider my uniqueness strange

They call my language slang

They see my confidence as conceit

They see my mistakes as defeat

They consider my success accidental

They minimize my intelligence to potential

My question means I’m unaware

My advancement is somehow unfair

Any praise is preferential treatment

To voice my concern is discontentment

If I stand up for myself, it’s too defensive

If I don’t trust them, I’m too apprehensive

I’m defiant if I separate

I’m fake if I assimilate 

My character is constantly under attack
Pride for my people means I’m too Black 

Copyright © 2012 by Jamil S. Elamin

On the Move Volume 7: Walking the Walk

Hotep,

It’s mid-March; 14 weeks since my left Achilles heel was surgically repaired.  My progress has been nothing short of phenomenal.  My rehab has been turned up several notches since my Volume 6 entry.  Before I go into the physicality’s of my step-by-step progression, I find this to be an opportune time to acknowledge Mrs. Lillian Jefferson Hodnett of Dry Fork, Virginia.  She moved on to the realm of infinite tranquility on 2/27/12.  She’s the grandmother of my man Chino.  If the name Chino rings a bell, it’s because I gave him a shout, on the “Grey’s Alter Anatomy” post back in 2010. 

Losing his Big Momma is a stressful experience that no human would care to endure.  Feel me?  Through my life experience, I’ve learned at some point and time a man has gotta be a man.  Posers of men abound when situations are favorable.  But, losing someone you love while living out a death sentence can either strengthen a man’s stride as he walks through life’s obstacles or it just may expose the fledgling that posers try so hard to conceal.  I take pride in saying that Chino is walking the walk.  Your Big Momma would be proud of you Dunn, may her beautiful soul rest in peace.

OAN, the stairs have become my fix.  I’ve dedicated 30 minutes a day – three to four times a week – to jogging up and down the stairs.  That’s right!  Your MannofStat is jogging in this piece!  Real talk.  I’m also doing calf raises and light – weighted squats.  A new dimension to my physical therapy has been the Elgin weight machine.  Simply put; it’s a device that assists my range of motion, while emulating a calf raise.  Weighted plates add resistance to my heel.  It resembles the mental foot scale is prehistoric, but I’m sure somebody knows what I’m talking about.  If not, just Google it.  LOL

Walking on my toes is difficult, but I’m doing it.  Dr. C. told me today, that I’m clear to resume my Kunta Kinte Thing whenever the urge occurs.  I can’t explain the relief I felt upon hearing the words:  “you can start running now.” I guess it shouldn’t have been a big deal – since I took it up myself to begin my aggressive stair routine.  But, hearing the official word assured me that my aggressive nature wasn’t a hindrance to my recovery.

The stationary bike has become a fixture in my recovery as well.  I’m doing 15 minutes at level 3 (maximum level).  It’s crazy how the stationary bike poses as an indication of my post-surgery progression.  No matter how hard or fast I pedal that bike.  I remain in the same place and time; Central prison serving a death sentence.  But I’ve come a long way since last December; mentally and physically.  Na mean?  Walking the walk is just another example of a Mann on the move.  Ya heard?

Hold ya head Chino.  Our long walk is a just reward.  Word is bond!

One Love,

MannofStat

Copyright © 2012 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Take a Deep Look

Hotep,

As a onetime owner of a fish aquarium, I’ve spent countless hours observing the habits of the following carnivore fish:  (2) Snakeheads, (1) Barracuda, (1) Alligator Gar, (1) Jack Dempsey, (1) Tire Track Eel, and (1) Albino Algae-eater.

These aquatic occupants lived with a sense of caution.  With the exception of the algae-eater, all of them fed on other fish.  As long as there was food in the tank, boundaries were respected, but when the goldfish and Rosey Reds were scarce – all bets were off.  Na mean?

These fish have no agendas.  Their attention span is no longer than their last trip to the other side of the tank.  Their survival instincts calculate their every move.  The more they eat, the larger they will get.  If one fish outgrows another, the smaller of the two has a much lower rate of survival, nothing personal; just life inside the tank.  Right?

Now allow me to give you a visual of the death row housing unit (tank).  It’s set up in a similar fashion.  The C.O. sits inside a booth, and observes the containment unit that houses the death row residents.  Each resident has his own story, his personal stamp of accreditation.  Various walks of life locked into a single limited space.  SMH.

For the most part, boundaries are respected, but the peaceful coexistence can easily be rattled by the poisonous effects of greed and envy.  Feel me?  When you look at the fish; it’s never personal.  There is no agenda.  However, on the row, your agenda speaks much louder than any words.  One person’s agenda may be limited to this particular day and time, and go no further than the confines of the concrete barriers that encage us.  Na mean?

That type of agenda isn’t healthy for the individual that has set personal goals for himself, goals that transcend beyond the barriers of this box.  Ambitions of freedom tend to clash with agendas founded on mental institutionalism.  Word is bond!

A look into the tank provides a means of entertainment.  The fish swim amongst one another without any regard for the prying eyes on the other side of the glass.  The “big fish” will always stand out, but if he’s oblivious to the official oppression that regulates his day-to-day interactions; his existence is no more than a daily vice to the eyes of the authoritative observer.  Ya heard?

Keep it 100,

MannofStat

Copyright © 2012 by Leroy Elwood Mann

On the Move Volume 6: A Legacy Never Dies

Hotep,

Life is too short.  You wake up today; you’re gone tomorrow.  We just lost “The Voice” (Whitney Houston).  SMH.  Right before her untimely demise, we lost “The Pioneer” (Don Cornelius) and before him, “The Legend” (Etta James) left us.  If nothing else, death should teach us that we shouldn’t go to sleep with cloudy minds.  None of us are promised tomorrow.  Feel me?

I’m not caught up in how these individuals left this realm.  I only know they’re no longer with us physically, but their legacies continue to live through our existence, which brings me to W2TM. 

Every chronicle, poem, debate or loving expression is a building block in the construction of my legacy.  Some have chosen to depict me as a homicidal monster, unworthy of living.  Hey, what can I say?  It’s their right to believe that, but they couldn’t be more wrong!  It’s also my right to freely express myself in this manner.  The benevolence of my legacy speaks louder than the hateful screams of my captors.  Ya heard? 

Welcome to another chapter of my legacy:

My physical therapy sessions have been somewhat laid back, up to this point.  My therapist, who I’ll refer to as “Mr. Su,” has assured me that the sessions will become more intense as my condition progresses.  I’m more than comfortable with “Mr. Su’s” methods because my conditions is drastically improving and he spent a great part of the 90’s working as a physical therapist to the Philadelphia Flyers and other professional athletes that represented my beloved city.  Real talk.

I’m well into my 3^rd week of physical therapy.  At this point, Mr. Su’s main concern is to continue to reduce the swelling around my left ankle.  He begins our sessions with 10 minutes of ultrasound stimulation.  The apparatus used to massage my Achilles tendon resembles a portable shower head.  The rhythmic sensation relieves the stiffness that causes me to walk with a limp.

The next phase of our session is electro stimulation.  A small pad containing electronic sensors is placed onto my Achilles heel for 10 minutes.  It relaxes the muscle that surrounds the afflicted tendon.  This is the best part of my therapy sessions.  Well, that and the ongoing Eagles talk between “Mr. Su” and myself during the treatments, but anyway the electro stimulation makes me feel like I can do my “Kunta Kinte Thing” (running) as soon as I get off the examination table.  This treatment is probably the main reason my ankle is beginning to look normal again.

From there, I go into a stretching routine-using a towel.  Currently, I’m unable to do calf raises, so the towel is used to give the tendon a good vertical stretch.  Na mean?  The stretching is followed by 15 minutes of Thera-Band exercises.  The Thera-Band resembles a giant rubber band.  While sitting upright, I position the Thera-Band underneath my toes- cradling the top half of my foot.  With my left leg fully extended, I add resistance to the Thera-Band by pulling it toward my stomach.  Imagine a sling-shot with my foot acting as the catch.

My left foot moves in a motion similar to pressing downward on a gas pedal.  I’ll hold it for a few seconds, and then bring my foot upright as If I’m releasing the gas pedal.  20 reps a set ain’t no joke.  Believe that!

This legacy moves uphill, but continues to gain steam.  Your support is what pushes me toward the pinnacle.  God blessed a child with a voice.  At last, the legacy unfurls.  No clouds in this forecast.  Feel me? 

Love, Peace and Soul,

MannofStat

Copyright © 2012 by Leroy Elwood Mann