Archive | April, 2013
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Rest In Peace. Richie Havens son of Woodstock, father of the times.

25 Apr

The Beast in Florida: A History of Anti-Black Violence

12 Apr

The Florida Bookshelf

Brand new and available today – click on the book title for even more information.

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The Beast in Florida: A History of Anti-Black Violence

by Marvin Dunn

Pubdate: 2/5/13

“Marvin Dunn has written an important chronicle of the most disturbing, yet little-known, racial atrocities in Florida history. The Beast in Florida is a catalog of the underbelly of Florida—a lineage of race riots, lynchings, and cold-blooded murder that is as much a part of the Sunshine State as bathing beauties, palm trees, and alligators.”—Ben Green, author of Before His Time: The Untold Story of Harry T Moore, America’s First Civil Rights Martyr

When we teach our children about the horrors of the past, we do so in the hope that exposing the true nature of these atrocities will deter future generations from repeating them. This is Marvin Dunn’s impetus in writing this book,an unflinching and haunting look at…

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Video

Overgrown

10 Apr

I’ve been a fan of James Blake for a while now, but when his new album dropped I was glad to see it and more glad to hear it. I’ve been told that my musical taste is somewhat odd, I don’t see it as such of course. Anyway, this song needs to be heard and though I’m not really a big fan of music videos, methinks this one is pretty good.

Peace, Jesus.

P.S. this one is even better

Self Acceptance: Maybe I Can Drink The Ocean

5 Apr

This song is indescribably deep with elements from different genres and time periods. Give it a listen independently of the piece or play it while you read. These two go together like potted meat and saltines.

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Judgmental people made me imperfect and in their judgmental stew I marinated. My mirror is the liar and my vision is not to be trusted.

I can recall with some effort when love of self was the order of my day and as common as an exhale.

Good thoughts flowed like time. Now that flow has been dammed and deviated to the desert of second guessing.

The me I know turned into the me I knew. The solid self-reflections of others pelted me from below as that was their only angle.

Confusion was a leech that slowly sapped my love of life, sunsets, seeing people and breathing. My person had a broken leg and was set for pasture.

To the wounded time will heal, for me time is hell. Left flailing in an ocean the only hope is to drink to not drown.

All is not lost for me.

I still have my awe inspirations. My time here is not wasted. The mountains I love so much are here. The trees that sway in the afternoon breeze are still here.The female form that I truly love is still a work of art. I still have plenty of love in me.

We are just primates sitting in front of computers with no keyboards, left unimpressed and bored we tear at each other.

We still have forgiveness in us.

Not Mine

4 Apr

this was the first song I thought of when I decided to publish this piece. I think you should listen to it when you’re done reading my words. It’s much like a continuation of Not Mine.

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Though not flesh of my flesh, not even bone of my bone, you have penetrated my bricked in heart.

Before your first breath, before your first sight, I could feel you growing in me. The world held promise once more.

Not mine is but a short and weak fence that deters nothing and nothing could deter my ever-growing love for you.

I was not blessed with my own like you, but I was blessed with you. I quietly ask, if you be mine, then I’ll be yours.