EXCERPTS FROM MY SOUL...READ WITHOUT PREJUDICE
SMASHWORDS EDITION
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PUBLISHED BY:
SajeTanira Publishing Group & Nathan Jones on Smashwords
Excerpts From My Soul...Read Without Prejudice
Copyright ©2010 by Nathan Jones
Edited by Charlotte Y. Williams
ISBN: 978-0-9800747-3-4
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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Giving thanks to the Creator for His Blessing of another project completed. This book is dedicated to my family, friends and to those who have had patience, love, and faith in my dream. You know who you are. God Bless and continue to read!
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Contents
Excerpt I: Afrocentric Actualizations
The Day After A Black Man Became President
Excerpt II: Roots and Branches
New Orleans Living – The Beginning
Pushin’ A Pen…And Receiving No Dividends
How I Kick Linguistics In The Game
Life Is A Series of Sound Bytes
Cinematic Inhibition/The Window: A Collaboration
6. Arr. Rue Monsieur Le Prince
6. Arrt Place Saint-Germain Des Pres
Alvin Ailey in Berkeley and Paris
* * * * *
AFROCENTRIC ACTUALIZATIONS
* * * * *
You are an abyss in my heart, Afrika
My face is full of your blood
These hands God gave me work to come home
I, an Afrikan speaks of the rivers in the Congo
I daydream of the warm summer nights, under
Your heaven
I once sat on a throne, drinking the finest nectars
My kingdom was a dominion of prosperity,
My children played freely in our Garden of Eden
Oh! Afrika, how I long to kiss the soil of your beauty
This continent many called “dark” holds the keys to the Universe
To life, civilization, and many lands of forgotten nations.
Afrika, my face is full of your blood,
Oh, how I long to return home
To the shores of your warmth and beauty
Afrika, I cannot forget you
* * * * *
shackled in dungeons, quartered by gender space limited
caught in matrix prism of darkness
cacophonies sirens the air, dark despair horrific
overseer’s eyes watch broken spirits rest on brick beds, peeking
concrete pillows unwind minds, using excrement as linen’s comfort
bodies stacked upon bodies, alive & dead
bodies stacked upon bodies, dead & alive
putrid, the stench, penetrating my nasal cavity
my DNA is remembering, inhumane traumas altering my center
resistance! powerless! denigrated! branded! broken! boxed!
alive/ alive/ alive/
stolen from homeland(s), torn from families
centuries later, my center is pushing & unfolding
seared in biblical lamentation, I pray this history never repeats
amazing Grace, how horrible the sound, not to save a wretch?
a wretch i am not?
i am grandma’s cayenne pepper
a hot plate of red beans and rice
the sweet savory sweat of sugarcane
* * * * *
i’ve ambled through the ages
in shoes well worn
an ancient orphan
many times born
i carry with me
buried deep inside
the memory of an almost forgotten past life.
i hear the waves crash on African shores,
the dust of the Kalahari fills my nostrils
all of Tanzania and the Masai of Kenya
i’ve spied from atop Kilimanjaro
i’ve strolled through the cool jungle
left footsteps along the banks of the Nile
the drumbeats of the Congo
have played in my head
ever since I was a little child.
i’ve felt the heavy chains
and separation pains
breathing death’s refrains
crushed in the hulls
of stinking slave ships
the salty sweat and sting of whips
descendants of Ham, much sinned against
oppression of the spirit
minds driven insane
shackles binding the constricting brain
my belly’s been full on grits and black-eyed peas
i’ve sung in the cotton fields
down on my knees
i’ve shed crimson blood
cried a flood
and drowned in the Mississippi
like Lady Day
i’m haunted by black bodies
swaying on “southern trees”
silently screaming the names
lynched ghosts heard by Billy
* * * * *
We the colored People of the United States, in Order to form a more congruent Union, establish fairness, insure conjugal tranquility, provide for the ordinary defence, promote the universal welfare, and shelter the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and to All Our Descendants, do proclaim and institute this Constitution for the United States of North America (Canadians excluded!).
Amendments-Amended
* First Amendment – Establishment Clause, Free Exercise Clause; freedom of any speech, of all press, Freedom of whatever Religion, and of open assembly; righteous petition,
Congress already made laws respecting an establishment of religion(s), and prohibited the freedoms exercises; abridged the freedom of speech, corporate pundits plunder the press; or the right arms threatened for people to peaceably assemble, and to lobby the Government for a redress of grievances.
* * * * *
if you ain’t driving Mrs. Daisy or rebelling
In Glory, whose “glory” are you supporting?
a private in the military or being a mammy
In Gone With the Wind... Can’t you see just
like the wind you blow like Lilies in the Valley.
how many lessons will the Academy Awards teach
before we wake up and start our own award show?
is it not enough that The Piano grants praise to
a minor, and What’s Love Gotta Do With gets snubbed.
how could Bassett and Fishburne receive no respect?
Othello, a Shakespearean classic no dap, another slap
but Babe, a pig gets a nomination
what a slap in the face. I need to inhale over
that diss. i am pissed off cause Quincy got recognition while
Oprah greeted and served, damn! The Academy’s got
its’ nerve for casting Mammies, Toms, and Stepin Fetchit
we are blackface cooning the 20th century
Jesse and Whoopi provided a cushion of consciousness
in spite of the madness. God did not flex a muscle! once, again
we win in the category of mu-sick! great way to pacify
Black folks. Black folks when are you going wake up
and start your own Academy Award show?
Black folks in Hollywood wake up.
don’t you know Hollow-wood doesn’t
give a hoot about us?
* * * * *
Can survival in this onyx shell sustain all the bloodshed, fears, and tears?
As I recollect on living I think about many of the names and pejoratives used to describe me. Let me see. I’m been called: “dumb,” “destructive,” “dangerous,” “deviant,” “deprived,” and “disturbed.”
Oh, but it gets better. He’s a “drop-out,” “delinquent,” “dope-addict,” “street-smart dude,” a “welfare pimp,” and “dysfunctional.” But I say I’m still here.
Yes Lord, I’m still here.
Even laws have been passed to isolate me from the mainstream of society.
I’ve been Jim Crowed, Grandfather Claused, written down as 3/5 a person,
and now Three Strikes and I’m Out. What more can happen to me
before I cease to exist in this damned Nation?
Alas Babylon, I’m still here. Yes indeed, I’m still here.
Looks like I’ve failed every attempt to live a life of fruitful prosperity.
If it were not for frustration, humiliation, and anger I think life wouldn’t be worth
living at all. But I’m still here. Yet I’m perceived as impulsive, aggressive,
animal-like, and child-like without fail...having natural rhythm, sensuality,
and uninhibited expressiveness.
Never is my person seen as poetic, creative,
innovative, avant-garde, or assertive.
But by God! I’m still here.
Yes, I’m still here.
The funniest thing about this lifestyle is that I continue to run into brick walls. Think about it, I’m the last one hired and the first one fired.
I’ve been “black-mailed,” “black-listed,” and “blackballed.”
And I ask for what? If I had a choice I think I’d rather be rejected, prejudged, and discriminated against. But since I don’t have a choice in the matter,
I’d better thank Jesus for all his blessings, right!
Look here. I’m still here.
I’m still around in this chocolate-covered skin.
Yes, I’m still here.
If it wasn’t for Grace and Mercy, I’d probably be dead.
Let me tell you, I’ve been spit on, kicked, shot at,
beat, stabbed, hosed, bit by dogs, even been
hand-cuffed, and thrown in jail.
But look at me, I’m still here.
Yes, that’s right, I’m still here.
Man I thought my ancestors had it bad,
but when I add it all up, all of it’s bad.
The onyx shell of my fore-parents was chained, beat, enslaved,
had no human rights, and slave codes were invented to keep them subdued. And the names were even more humiliating then the ones I’ve acquired over the years, bearing tears and fears.
My ancestors were “coons,” “niggers,” “bucks,” “ pickaninnies,” “mammies,”“boys,” and “uncles.”
I never knew that when one grew old one became
white folks’ relatives and kin.
But yes, I tell you, I’m still here.
We are still here.
Fascinating ain’t it, as to how I can still exist in this
black, bronze, brown, chocolate, pepsi, coco butter, walnut, chestnut, cafe-au-lait, mocha, auburn, butterscotch, maroon- orange, maroonish, maures, moorish, sudanic, ethiopian, onyx, amber, olive, Mediterranean, reddish skin, and still survive the harshest realities, a mound of plights as high as Mount Kilimanjaro,
all in this lifetime and yet be here.
I’m here and I ain’t going nowhere.
* * * * *
Out from the dark we ascend like a lotus plant
we travel throughout history like a joule, a unit of energy
a force like Newton’s neutrons moving through a distance of one
meter in the direction of that force,
We explode in history like an Atomic bomb
dispelling the myth of uneducated Africans whose
intellect rivals the talents of Einstein, yet surpassing his
In the 21st century we are the hope, the pride, and the dream
of the formally enslaved Africans, 145 years removed from chattel slavery
and I represent the 5th generation of freedom, a descendant of a strong willed
african from the shore of the Canary Islands, who escaped the jaws of slavery two
years before the Emancipation Proclamation
From the degradation of the Godchaux/Jonas Sugar Plantation
to Bertrainville to New Orleans, to the blessed
Hypolite, Papa, Nolen, Roland, now me
the blood of freedom flows through my veins, constantly
we reinvent ourselves like the Phoenix, altering our invisible existence
* * * * *
“I was born by the river in a little tent, and just like the river I’ve been running ever since”- Sam Cooke
Ran out of my mother’s womb Ran from pain
Ran from the slave hunters Ran from sadness
Ran from the slave drivers Ran from stage
Ran from the slave castles Ran to the stage
Ran from the slave ships Ran for the bus
Ran from the missionaries Ran for the train
Ran from shackles Ran for the subway
Ran from whips Ran from racial stereotypes
Ran from dogs Ran from racial profiling
Ran from horses Ran from being boxed in
Ran from guns Ran from you represent the race
Ran from loud sounds Ran from Niggas and flies
Ran from bounty hunters Ran from running
Ran from the KKK Ran from prejudice
Ran from the Military Ran from discrimination
Ran to the North Ran from racism
Ran to the Hills Ran from responsibility
Ran to the jungle Ran from hate
Ran from the castles Ran to love
Ran from this country Ran from hurt
Ran to Canada Ran from terror
Ran to the river to lose the scent Ran from oppression
Ran from the Police Ran from the oppressors
Ran from gangs Ran from madness
Ran from gun shots Seems like I run from everything
Ran to work Ran from myself
Ran to school Ran from Jim Crow
Ran track Ran from Apartheid
Ran on the football field
Ran on the baseball field
Ran on the basketball court
Ran on the soccer court
Ran the 100 meters, the 200 meters
Ran the 1X100 relays
Ran over hurdles
Ran, representing all nations in the Olympics
My feet are tired of running
Ran from love
Ran from sharecropping
Ran from Reconstruction
Ran from Post-Reconstruction
Ran from Jim Crow
Ran from Segregation
Ran from color only sign
Ran from de jure laws
Ran from de facto laws
Ran from the South
Ran from Code Noir
Ran from Slave Code
Ran from Dislocation
Ran from disenfranchisement
Ran from discrimination
Ran from prejudice
Ran from racism
Ran from mental slavery
Ran from the Projects
Ran from public housing
Ran from the Military
Ran from this country
Ran from the Police
Ran from COINTELPRO
Ran from gangs
Ran from drugs
Ran from the “ghetto”
Ran to work
Ran to school
Ran track
A brotha is always running
“Can’t keep running away”- The Pharcyde
Running, running, running
A brother is always running, fast
My feet are tired of running
* * * * *
What is Black? Is Black synonymous with words wisdom and knowledge? Or knowledge and wisdom? WHAT IS BLACK? And… What is being Black? Definitely NOT a lack of ANYTHING!
I heard someone say that Black is a “state of mind.” Well if Black is a state of mind, you wouldn’t mind me giving you a Piece of my mind state as it relates to being Black.
Black is not a color, the last time I checked. I discovered that Black is an ESSENCE, an ESSENCE, an ESSENCE, and yes an ESSENCE that is an efflorescent blessing of CREATIVITY...Not Destruction or NEGATIVITY!
All colors originate from this hue. But what is Black? And what is being Black? Of course there are many Black Carbon Copies perpetrating as Black as BUSA (Black USA would define the term).
You see Black is another whole existence in this Universe; especially in America’s chapters and verses.
It appears to me that there is no love giving to Blacks or being Black! But if you’re not Black, but act Black, is that equated with being DOWN or COOL? Is Black a “state of mind” or a game changing sign of the time?
“ into the sixties
a word was born........Black
& with black came poets
& from the poet’s ball point came:
black doubleblack purpleblack blue black beenblack was
black daybefore yesterday blackerthan ultrablack super
black blackblack yellowblack nigger black black whi-teman
blackerthanyoueverbes 1/4 black unblack coldblack clear
black my momma’s blackererthanyourmomma pimpleblack fall
black so black we can’t even see you black on black in
black by black technically black mantanblack winter
black coolblack 360degreesblack coalblack midnight
black black when it’s convenient rustyblack moonblack
black starblack summerblack electronblack spaceman
black shoeshineblack jimshoeblack underwearblack ugly
black auntjemimablack, uncleben’sriceblack williebest
black blackis beautiful I justdiscoveredblack negro
black unsubstanceblack.” --Haki Madhubuti
and Black become synonymous with A Movement in the 70s
and James Brown echoed a voice for all Blacks ---“Say IT Loud I’m Black and I’m Proud!”
Ungawa Black Power...
Black Love
Black on Black Crime
Black Orpheus
Black Church
Black Psychology
Black Studies
Black Leaders
Black House
Black Schools
Black Education
Black Muslim
Black People
Black Music
Black Noise
Black Vote
Black Community
Black Economics
and the Black Bourgeoisie
Black First...the 1st Black
Black Mayor
Black Caucus
Black Graduations