A Pretty Picture

Hotep,

Word to the Masses has been the window to how I see the world, for the past 3.5 years.  Within my words I’m sure it becomes adamantly clear that I choose to be close to a few, but I avoid many.  

Now, that’s not to say that I’m an unapproachable individual.  It simply means that I’m very particular about the people I keep company with.  Is there any fault in that?

While you marinate on that, allow me to introduce you to one of the few:

You may know her as my Editor-in-Chief and Homegirl, but she’s so much more, blogosphere.  She’s that best friend you know won’t hesitate to tell you when you’re in the wrong, but you don’t mind hearing that from her because she’s always going to have a knowledgeable perspective to follow.  Not a common trait of the casual friend.  It’s a trait worth treasuring – a trademark of triumph, an essence of the tranquility tracing the grooves of realness.  Feel me?

I’ve never been that person who seeks friendship.  This one of the few, has been a presence within the picture frame of my existence.  She easily brightens the cloudy skies, and paves the muddy trails within this picture.  Having her in my life has made my existence a picture worth looking at.  Word is bond!

There have been glimpses of You all throughout this picture.  From my childhood days of hanging out at Your candy store (The Goody Shop).  To the adolescent memories of parties and proms that continue to play over in my mind as fresh as yesterday’s events.  Would it be cliché to say, she’s always been in the picture?

Happy times have been the fixture of our union, Ma. 

Even to this day,

I’m happy to see You.

Whether it be a pic or in person.

I love the sound of your words,

Whether they’re wrapped within the vernacular of Your mesmerizing tone,

On the phone

Or a scribe of Yours that I choose to read alone.

You’re the Gem that’s never been lost.

Your signature to this picture creates a canvas that is a beautiful sight to see.

Your eyes within the skies, Your smile surrounds the branches of every tree.

I say all this because there’s nothing more to tell.

Paint a pretty picture; I’ll give it a name

I thank my Creator for the work of art that is Rochelle

Happy Birthday Luv!!

Much Love,

MannofStat

Copyright © 2013 by Leroy Elwood Mann

A Wise Man Once Said…

Hotep,

Reverend Isaac Villegas (pronounced vee – a – gas) has been a fixture in my creative writing class since day one.  His value to this class is that of a center beam, to a bridge.  Without him there would be a discouraging distance between the students and the accomplished lectors who consistently leave us with one to grow on.  Na mean?

Under the direction of Reverend Villegas, this week’s assignment (10/16/13) is to find a symbolism – within the book of Daniel – and somehow apply that symbolic imagery to a circumstance in your own life.  Now, you already know, your MannofStat can make a symbolic connection to the last drop in a tube of toothpaste; if you keep pressing you’ll always get something out of it.  Feel me?

But this particular assignment will not be exclusive to my perception alone.  I decided to share this experience with my man, Chris Gregory.  He’s a spiritual brother who bears the breastplate of righteousness in such a humble manner, that it can be daunting to those who chose to shy away from spirituality.

Chris chose to break down the symbolism of the statue that represented the four kingdoms in Daniel 2:31-35, and how it parallels the phases of capital punishment.  But first, I asked him to explain the character of someone labeled as a “Wise Man” in this penitentiary setting (Daniel 2:12).

“God bestows the wisdom upon us.  The way a man carries himself; his decision making; and personal life experiences.  I was 20 years old – coming through the door.  I wasn’t strong in my faith.  Over the years, I’ve grown spiritually, and come to realize that man isn’t in control.  God’s time reigns supreme.”  Aight!  Now listen.  If you thought this would be a friendly game of tic tac toe; step away from the board and observe a chess master checkmating capital punishment.

A wise man once said:

The four kingdoms – or the four phases of capital punishment – is a statue that represents the misperception of man being in control.  Head of gold – A system in place, in which lawmakers believed it to be flawless.  Some viewed it as untouchable.  It was believed that anyone sentenced to die, through a court of law, was deserving of it.

Silver chest and arms – the death penalty opponents (chest) began to voice heartfelt issues concerning capital punishment.  Many protests and rallies were soon to follow.  The arms of silver represent the strength of the humanity within these actions.

Abdomen and hips of bronze – Politicians seek political gain by taking a firm stand on crime.  The death penalty is the smoke screen for their true intent to capitalize on the tax dollars of a system in peril.  The abdomen of bronze in essence is the “belly of the beast.”  The bronze hips are the appellant attorneys with the unbearable caseloads.  The heavier the belly, the heavier the burden is for the hips to bear.  The rotundity of the bronze abdomen won’t permit the bronze hips to carry the weight of true justice.

Legs of Iron – The media that runs with half – truths about the particulars of a crime.  Keeping society ignorant to the facts.  The sale of these media outlets is all that matters. 

Feet of Iron and Clay – The media playing on the ignorance of society is eventually brittled by the release of innocent people from death row.  Some states even abolished the death penalty.

The rock, which breaks the statue, represents God’s intervention (the innocence project, the exposing of the SBI’s science fiction and the Racial Justice Act).

In closing, I asked Chris to define true justice.  “True justice would be the restructure of the criminal justice system.  First and foremost; the financial status of a defendant shouldn’t matter.  Racial profiling shouldn’t be the deciding factor in the issuing of an arrest warrant.  Crimes of corruption by judges, prosecutors, detectives and crime lab agents should have greater consequences than a forced resignation.  I am now 39 years old when the judge said, ‘may God have mercy on your soul,’ he was just a mouthpiece reiterating what God already had in store.  My outcome is never decided by man.”

Spoken like a true ‘wise man.’ That’s what’s up!!

Much love,

ManofStat

Copyright © 2013 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Standing Alone

Hotep,

My creative writing class really got interesting this week.  Not to say that it hasn’t already been interesting.  It’s more like this week’s session increased the momentum of an already fruitful experience.  Na mean?

The week prior, Dr Kuhns issued copies of an essay written by Professor Mirriam Cooke.  She holds the position of Professor of Arabic Literature, at the prestigious Duke University.  An Arabic scholar, Miriam is also a published author (“Opening the Gates: A Century of Arab Feminist Writing”) whose literary appetite led her to the sands of Egypt – where she lived abroad and studied Arabic culture. 

Her brief stint teaching Arabic in an Afghanistan prison isn’t without merit.  She’s made it her life’s purpose to engage the natural instincts of writers pushing the pens from the far eastern culture, to western civilization.

Her essay, “The Prison Memoirs of a Muslim Sister” was founded on the struggle (Jihad) of Zaynab al-Ghazali, a Muslim feminist incarcerated for conspiracy to kill and overthrow the regime of Gamal Abd al-Nasir.  Her story is written as an auto-hagiography (self written bio of a saint) within the pages of “Days From My Life.” This sister refers to her story as “a legend of torture and hardship.” Her jihad is anything but esoteric.  She and those closest to her consider her experiences to be public property, important enough that they should become instructive for others. 

After reading Professor Cooke’s essay, I was inspired to share these words with you.  It was a challenge, but I fell back until I had the opportunity to personally meet the voice behind this teaching tool.  Standing before me (I was seated in the front row) was a woman – small in stature, but bearing the heart of a titan – that once taught in an Afghanistan prison.  Living conditions – here at Central Prison – are not something that would draw the interest of a person who has witnessed confinement on the gravest of scales.  Professor Cooke’s mission became clear when she began to take questions from the class.

Listening to her dip in and out of her Arabic tongue, in the most condensed of a lecture’s setting, I wondered if the mission of Professor Cooke was somehow a beacon for my own personal struggle.  To say the least; I’m glad that our paths crossed.  Not only did my literary passion receive a mainline injection of metaphorical adrenaline, but also somehow Professor Cooke’s teachings revealed a condition of understanding to a conscious mind  - well equipped with experiences of hardship and social pariah-ism.  Sometimes standing alone is the best way to keep pace with one’s self.  Ya heard?

In July of 1997, the North Carolina death row population exceeded 200.  If I were to get any rest, it would be on a bunk bed in the midst of the dayroom.  For 18 months, whenever I was able to close my eyes, a prayer that I’d wake up in the presence of my Creator accompanied the act.  But, every day my eyes would open to the face the indomitable foe; Uncertainty.  Over time, I began to realize why I kept waking up in this realm: Life is meaningful from top to bottom, but mysterious in every direction.  Feel me?

Those many days of waking up to the clamor of a death row existence has given me the motivation to survive any indomitable presence destined to make my acquaintance.  Word is bond!

I’m sure Zaynab al-Ghazali felt the same, when she was locked away in a men’s prison (War Prison) – being tortured on the daily.  As a show of her endurance, she referred to her body, as a battlefield on which good and evil is played out.  A Wali (Muslim Saint) indeed.

Asante (thank you) Professor Cooke for seeking out my struggle.  Your teaching tool has adjusted the torque of my literary future.  That’s what’s up!!

Peace,

MannofStat

Copyright © 2013 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Less is More

This post was originally slated for 9/11/2013

 Haiku – A Japanese lyric or verse having three unrhymed lines of 5,7, and 5 syllables invoking an aspect of nature or seasons.  A poem written in this form.

American Heritage College Dictionary

Hotep,

Today (9/11/2013) marks the 12^th anniversary of worse terrorist attack, on US soil, in American history.  So it’s only right that I begin this post by paying tribute to the victims of 9/11 and their families.  This tragedy was a horrific image of our country being blindsided by the opposition to world peace.

Skies witness man’s works

The opposite of world peace

Towers fall from skies.

An American tragedy never forgotten.  Word is bond!!

For the 2^nd week in a row, Ms. Kelly Lennox played host to my creative writing class.  She’s a poet who introduced our class to various works written by Etheridge Knight.  He was known for using the haiku style of writing to express his pain with drug addiction and racism.  

Now, before today, I couldn’t tell a haiku from tofu.  Both are foreign to me.  Na mean?  Ms. Lennox challenged me to create a haiku about something displeasing to me.  I had all day to come up with the haiku expressing my displeasure for the horrific acts of 9/11.  But I only had 10 minutes of class time to come up with this:

The Bing

Face between spaces

Beings behind bars rain bombs

Steel gauges Man’s redemption.

In this piece, I chose to use an aspect of nature living within a cage.  ‘The Bing’ represents the confinement within the prison.  It’s an experience that can prove to be subhuman.  There’s a cage on the showers.  There’s a cage in the dayroom.  There are multiple cages to accommodate outside recreation.  But none of these cages have any relevance without a face between it’s spaces. 

Some beings choose to exercise when occupying a cage.  Others choose to get better acquainted with the occupants in the cages nearest to them.  Then there are others who utilize the cage as a weapon.  Food, urine and even feces have been launched through the spaces in these cages.  Real talk.

The steel surrounds my existence.  My sink and commode are made of stainless steel.  My tabletop and shelf are steel as well.  Even the foundation where I rest is steel.  The cage will either redeem or regress a man’s character.  A tangible used to gauge an intangible.  Feel me?

I was told that most haikus go untitled.  I chose to leave the 9/11 haiku untitled because I want the viewers to see exactly what they saw 12 years ago, today.  But, ‘The Bing’ is my person experience.  Ya heard?

After today’s lesson, I’m convinced that poetry is no more than a writer’s expression.  It doesn’t become poetic until someone else reads it.  And for the record; the cage hasn’t regressed this Mann’s character.   My redemption comes through the hands of my Creator.  Not the hands of man.

Nuff said,

MannofStat

Copyright © 2013 by Leroy Elwood Mann