We on a new plateau

finding new places to go

walking through the sand

like nomads on this land we roam

minds run a muck

but bodies be like sitting ducks

lucky if we awake by sounds of rifles

gun battles get shot down by our own trifles

this cyclical recitals of performances of cheap talk and waltz

people think they entitled to the gold too bold

foolhardy speaking the unspeakable when it's false

halt who goes there we beat a missionary down

so now who committin' assaults

people exhault kings and then wait for their fall

bought into tall tales people got the gall and

causin poor conditions by their own default

kids turned to henchmen

schools turned to opium dens

people prayin amen

for troops to come from the U.N

people thinkin save em

pullin up they boot straps they depend on em

this revolution wont be shown so fuck CNN

my people feelin disappointment time and time again

casualities of war done in by policemen

stop oppressin them

stop detestin them

stop arresting them

stop enslaving them

system protectin lies with their hopeless liability

even CIA druggin they own citizens with LSD

while we starve with hunger and poverty in the street

the devil fat full and greedy for more still want beef

the same rich beggar of this political economy

panhandling better yet robbing people's fidelity

this psychological labotomy

leaving divisions entrenched in the biohazard of society

so don't sigh at me

cuz we tired from seein the schisms causin this immobility

have leaders thinking they Ashanti chiefs

but sleep in money they all the aristocratic thief

they souls still weep while there minds spiritually bare

we cry inequality so tell me what's fair

I swear nothing in this world can compare

to the unity of people when we talkin warfare

welfare of people

we rise so you can call us the children of the sun

we radiate the truth and we put in work till the job done

We tred through monsoons in lagoons

This the maroon platoon

Bloodshed for the enemy refuse for the weak to be the death of me

Tribes like mau mau bladow get down when you hear the sound

Got the spirit of nat turner when we cop the burners give ya something

More than heartburn more like a heart attack to put ya body into ashes in  an urn

when  ya slice ya cheeks to get dem scars

blood drippin on my face its red tears we never fear

its like a third eye see through the ancestors see how life is hard

The Mis-representation of Black Leadership

  I seriously love my people. At times though, I get very frustrated with the things that we do, so I am taking this time to give some tough love from within. Like Phillis Kwentoh does in her article on page . Trust me there are times I even get frustrated with some of things I do, but after facing the consequences this ensured that I would never revisit those times that caused my frustrations again. I honestly, share the sentiment of Dr. Carter G. Woodson when he titles Chapter 11 of Mis-Education of the Negro , "The Need for Service Rather than Leadership". People are too concerned about acknowledgement, awards, seeking validation from whitey or darkie instead of just doing what is right for the benefit of everyone. I have learned from literally a very rude awakening that if you take up the responsibility to do something, do it and do it with a 100% effort; otherwise don't do it at all. Like turning in things late, or not turning it in at all, not keeping track of things that need to be done, doing things fly by night.  People take the responsibility of an Ashanti chief and then put in the work of an Aristocratic thief. Then have the audacity to expect something in return. What people have forgotten is doing things out of the love of the struggle. Let me strongly reinforce what the struggle is within the context of a student at Syracuse University, because people have thrown around this word struggle as if struggling where equivalent to sipping tea at noon. The struggle is first and foremost, making a commitment  to make sure you get out of a so-called prestigious predominately white and institutionally racist university to receive your piece of paper called a degree just so that you the student supposedly can move more smoothly up the social ladder of success. The struggle is constantly working against the facade of a bourgeoisie mentality that has been adopted within the Black population to feel the need to automatically appropriate themselves to European standards in efforts to acclaim their self-worth. The struggle is doing things that need to be done without complaining or passing the blame on to someone else. The struggle is dealing with professors or other people in your environment who may not believe that you can make it through this path of life. The struggle is helping those at a grassroots level, those who are attending schools that are in jeopardy of shutting down, or those who don't have enough to make it through the day. Whether you want to believe or not if you are a Black student at Syracuse University you are privileged and as such you should dedicate as much time as it allows to ensure that you overcome not only your own obstacles, but help your brothers and sisters through their struggles as well through the love that you should have for each other. This does exempt staff, faculty, nor the community at large. We all have a position to play just like everyone in their home has a position to play within the house. We are just a large extended family, and as a family we should love one another. Thank you and enjoy the 8th issue of The Black Voice.

Currently Reading The Holy Bible Containing the Old and New Testaments: King James Version, Black Imitation Leather see related

 I gotta say I always need a good break for me to think about past actions and events, and I have to say last semester while people thought on the surface I was excelling, I must admit I clearly failed myself and others on a couple of different levels. Dang that just took me a lot to be this vunerable, but I am learning to be more honest with myself, but at the same time teach people how I should be treated, because we all know the worst feeling of giving yourself to someone and then having that very same person stab you in your back, shit I have even done it to other people, and having to deal with the guilt of that.  (I know some of you are like dang he need to get it together, but then act like they are perfect themselves..I'm going to need for you to do yourself a favor and stop , cuz im sure u have had your fcuk ups too.) Also, I am starting to really appreciate the good in people. Also I am trying to elimate some bad habits that might have not allowed me to succeed in some of my recent endeavors. All I know is that at the end of the day we all need to hear the truth all the time. Not at times when things aren't going the way they should be. We would be better off as human beings. Working towards being a successful human being. Acknowledging wrong and moving on!

oh and I said I would post watever I wrote..so I have written a rhyme in a long time, I did this one wit my cousin..this is my part of the rap ... i gotta say not so bad being that its been a couple months. oh its to dat Kanye instrumental on guess whose back wit scarface.

Who is he

Me Nahmean

Speak dat truth never loose like a hoe’s pussy

Guarding the minds gate

My shit penetrate

Have niggas and bitches open and flip they mind’s state

My flow sick have  pussy cats throwin up PMS till they menstruate/ raising the stake I sacrifice my blood in a cup and acclaim myself holy

oh moly I know ya can’t believe I said it

but Im committed to dis life

Strife

Like the shit was my wife

I divorce death cuttin hearts wit knives

Stop breathing/bodies sleepin/corpse decayin

Gangsta priests are praying thief stealing souls in the streets

Concrete tombstones to the kingdom of heaven’s throne

I make the sky fall to cause cyclones

Have the whole terrain blown

Breaking everybody’s bones

System enslaved with the violence so I free with the violence

Going up against the department of defense

Eye for an Eye

People keeping up defense with lies

At peoples personal expense

The world don’t make sense

When our freedom is in a cent

Buying jails claiming innocence

Nobody can’t smell the scent

Of bullshit when their honesty is spent

So they lament out of luck from their torment

Till they repent, they reinvent themselves

cement they real descent free and don’t resent

Where the mind went

the world don't make sense

the truth hesistant

afraid for atonement (*Resent echoes out*)

Guess whose back

Niggas don’t know jack flippin pounds of crack smoked out like cigarette packs

Guess whose back

Like a heart attack killin dese characters for the way they act