Ain’t It Funny?

Hotep,

Life is funny: sometimes to the degree where it is not funny at all.  In saying that, I need to apologize to my brother for the many times I have laughed at situations that are not funny.  “That shit ain’t funny, Lump.”

So much hurt within my lifetime, I have a tendency to ‘roll with the punches’ whenever I encounter an unpleasant discussion that has the potential to shatter my optimism.  So, I laugh as a means of taking the sting away from the pain.  Forgive me, D, I know everything ain’t funny.  Sometimes I am simply laughing to avoid crying.

For example, when I heard that Donald Trump would throw his name into the race to become our 45^th president, I laughed.  ‘This dude can’t be serious.  Ain’t no way he’s gonna become president.  He doesn’t even have a political background.” I laughed again.

I laughed at his uncouth responses to illegal immigration, the war on terror (ISIS), and federal income taxes, all throughout his republican primary campaign.  Then, he won the primary.  I stopped laughing.  The stakes had changed.  He was now one victory away. One victory away from obliterating the progress of the last eight years.  One victory away from annihilating the precedent set by Rowe vs. Wade; A historical shift that permits women to exercise pro-choice.

Do you think it is a coincidence that requests for IUDs has increased by 900% since Trump’s election became a reality?  There is nothing funny about that.

As a man, I am disgusted by Trump’s verbal assaults on women.  As an American, I am outraged by the large percentage of white women voters (53%) who voted for Trump.  This is the same presidential candidate who told television reporter, Billy Bush, that groping women without their consent is foreplay to the inevitable act of a celebrity getting whatever he wants.

Sadly, there are millions of girls and women who have fallen victim to this primitive and crude behavior.  In some cases an unwanted pregnancy is the result.  So tell me, should it be illegal for this victimized woman or girl to have an abortion?  Does she deserve to be jailed because a man chose to make her his victim?  This is a strong possibility in a ‘Trump America.’ “That shit ain’t funny, Lump.”

It is, however, funny to me that many Americans believe that Trump will take this country to a higher plateau of global superiority.  When in all actuality he is setting this country back to an era where women did not have a say outside of the parameters of a kitchen.  And their entire existence had to be validated by angry white men who wouldn’t have any problem with the antics and capitalistic rhetoric of the 45^th president.

Trump’s campaign was the home of riotous actions. Punches were thrown.  People were arrested.  Trump even encouraged some of his supports to punch people, who opposed him, in the mouth.  He also declared that he could shoot someone in the middle of 5^th avenue and not lose any voters.  “That shit ain’t funny, Lump.”

Ain’t it funny that the 2017 presidential inauguration will be a direct contrast to the historical observance of Dr. Martin Luther King; A man who stood tall against the white supremacy that Donald Trump exudes.

Ain’t it funny that our president elect still finds time to twiddle his thumbs to edify his cyber-bully persona?  “I don’t know much, but I know how to get angry white men to vote for me.” Really?  I wonder why.  “That shit ain’t funny, Lump.”

I know, I know, D.  Everything ain’t funny.

Always 100,

MannofStat

Copyright © 2017 by Leroy Elwood Mann

I Rest My Case

I don’t have many memories of my dad.  A party when I was maybe 3.  He was choking the neck of a champagne bottle.  When he saw me, he told Moms to get the camera.  My dad kissed my cheek, put his cigarette between my fingers, and tucked my other hand around the base of the bottle.

I can still feel his arm over my shoulder as he said, “C’mon, Bee.  Get a shot of me and my Lil’ Mann.”

Other than that, the extent of my memories with him revolves around the disturbing presence of sirens, screams, and chaos.  Throughout the years, people have told me:

You’re no different from them,

You’re just like all the rest.

But at 1^st glance, my 2^nd chance is a SON

That sets in the West… Courtesy of Compton!

You don’t know me, so how could you see

I’m a troubled father with a happy SON?

If he can’t get the truth from me, Word is bond

He’ll get it from no one.

They put me away for killing when killing

Wasn’t a part of my mental

This is highly confidential.

But fuck it, SON

This ain’t no truth I deem to be incidental

21 years after the fact,

I’m labeled a killer so killing me might

Kill the memory.

The blood in your vein, however

Will register the pulse of my name forever.

So their story can NEVER be our story

Now is the time to give you mine; a history

Without the gloss of commercial fame and glory

There were always good times, and some bad

With women throughout my life

The victim in this case was a dear friend

My codefendant was my wife

I said, “My codefendant was my wife.”

Pain and strife;

Stabbing me in the heart like my daddy’s knife

SON, here’s a picture of my Life:

My dad did time at Rahway, he was killed at 31

Murder was the case for Moms; I’m guilty

Of being her youngest,

The only one of 3 who can say I’ve done this.

Not the crime of murder,

For which I was charged and strung up

Like Nat Turner.

“Done this” implies living through death

When there should be no life left

I’m 48 now, still thriving and surprising my captors

And their execution klan

Accusers will not understand a Mann

They’re more receptive to a defendant pointing

Fingers from the witness stand

They couldn’t smell the gunpowder

Or hear the kill shot ringing louder

Than it did that fateful night

I know, I know, I know it wasn’t right

To protect the one responsible for all this hurt

But SON, it’s a wonder my eyes ain’t covered in dirt

There’s beauty in barely being able to blink

Seeing so much to live for

My Lil’ Mann playing football

And my Lil’ Mama all grown at 4

Let this voice be the wind

That blows through the tip of a pen

THE PEN

It’s a different world in here

A bubble-type atmosphere

I can shout “INJUSTICE” at the top of my lungs

And it still falls on deaf ears

Hear this punctured heart that bleeds

All over my sleeves;

A truth beating at the base of the next generation’s eardrum:

I am a troubled father,

With one happy SON

I rest my case…

Still Livin’

MannofStat

Copyright © 2017 by Leroy Elwood Mann

It’s A Wrap

 Happy New Year everyone!

I just wanted to take a moment to wish you all the best in 2017.  2016 was a VERY challenging year for me, but a very productive year for Leroy.  I spoke early in the year of an illness that hampered my ability to produce Word to the Masses with the same consistency you had become accustomed.  I was not the one who had become ill.  The near lose of my mother and corresponding long recovery, took my time away from Word to the Masses. 

I’m thrilled to say that my mother, although permanently altered, has made a remarkable recovery. That makes it possible for me to refocus my efforts on sharing Leroy’s expressions. We have discussed a pretty ambitious schedule for 2017 and I’m looking forward to getting back to raising awareness about the injustice of mass incarceration, the challenge of increased recidivism, and the elimination of the death penalty.  We are hoping you will come along for the ride.  Checkout Leroy’s summary of his 2016 activities.

Stay Tuned,

Rochelle

W2TM Editor

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Hotep,

Happy Kwanzaa!

As a tremendously productive year comes to an end and another begins, I am inclined to look forward to bigger and better, in 2017.  I have to admit, this uplifting year was somewhat deflated when the realization of a ‘Trump America’ left me speechless.  However, it did inspire a written expression titles, ‘Leaping Backward.’ It will be featured in the upcoming online edition of Scalawag magazine (scalawagmagazine.org).  Oh! Excuse me.  I haven’t mentioned ‘Swag Mag’ on this platform yet.  So, allow me to do so:

Swag happens to be one of the great things that happened to me as a writer in 2016.  I made the connection last summer through my good friend, Kris Agoranos, who is also the co-founder of Life Lines.  But, I will get to that in a minute.  For now, let’s just focus on my first article being published in Issue #6 of Swag.  Much thanks to my Swag editor, Matthew Witt, for feeling the intensity within the words of, “3 Shifts Of An 11^th Hour.” [ http://www.scalawagmagazine.org/articles/letter-from-death-row-three-shifts-of-an-11th-hour ] So far, the journey with Swag has been amazing and one of several highlights in our 2016 campaign for social justice. 

The year began with our 3^rd open performance of Serving Life.  I was hoping for our artful presentation to be continuous throughout the year, but the prison administration had other plans.  Although it seems the recent administrative shift has worked in our favor, because our cast was recently given the green light to begin rehearsing again.  The plan is to bring more outside audiences into the fold of human beings Serving Life from the brink of death.  The term, “break a leg,” doesn’t begin to define my focus going into such a great opportunity.  Na mean?

I feel as thought this year’s pace accelerated in March, when Mr. Frank Baumgartner hosted a conference (Race, Innocence and the End of the Death Penalty) in which the monologues from Serving Life resonated with the audience of the Genome Sciences Building in Chapel Hill.

Our hard work and civil resistance was bearing fruit.  People in the position to assist and mobilize were hearing our plight.  And by June, the death row population was granted regular access to the telephones. Our family, friends and loved ones salute this great accomplishment.  But, there was still no room to grow complacent.

Our motivation was high.  The conference room where we hold our weekly classes transformed into a sacred ‘clearing’ where no manmade ceiling existed.  The Life Lines movement was born by the time my granddaughter turned 4 (7/20/16), and listened to me sing happy birthday (my first as a G-dad) to her over the phone; a beautiful moment in time.  SMH.

Death row is life that stands still, yet we were pushing forwarding in a life-changing manner.  We started releasing spoken word expressions through [https://soundcloud.com/lifelinesjournal]. In a matter of 30 days the outside support for Life Lines grew tremendously.  The Life Lines website is projected to launch after the first of the year.  But the blessings continued and more doors began to open.

I formed an alliance with Swag by mid-summer.  The editing process with an established publication has enhanced my work ethic.  It has also increased my coffee intake.  LOL.  But, I would much rather be busy working, rather than allowing myself to accept the racial inequality that has me stuck in this long line for capital punishment.  Swag is a great platform for attacking such a grave injustice.

The combination of the early success of Life Lines and my article in Scalawag caught the interest of the cohosts of TalkingBullPodcast.com.  My interview with Josh and Adam was something special.  [ https://soundcloud.com/talkingbull/episode-9-life-lines-113016-120-am ]

I am also looking forward to an upcoming interview with Shane Claiborne and Tony Campolo, of the Across the Pond podcast, which transmits from the U.K.   Stay tuned for more on that venture.

So there it is, 2016 wrapped up in the sum of 850 words.  Holla if ya hear me, Chelle.  LOL.  We can assure you that W2TM will remain committed to raising awareness about the social ills of mass incarceration, racial injustice, and the forgotten humanity that continues to exist on North Carolina’s death row.  2017 is an opportunity to be greater than 2016.  Ya heard?

Much Love,

MannofStat

Copyright © 2017 by Leroy Elwood Mann