Pondering of a Thinking Black Man

Hello Faithful Reader,

I hope this month’s edition of The Black Birdseye View finds you well.

This time, I want to speak straight from the marrow. These are…

Words from a Rough Neck Brother

I don't need to steal to get stalked in stores.

I don't need to love this country to be forced into wars.

I don't need to rob them for them to cross to the other side of the street.

I don't need to be a mountain to be treated like dirt under feet.

I don't need to be causing harm to get swept up in storms.

I don't need to want their books to be forced to read them.

And I don’t need glasses to see this country was founded by crooks.

I don't need to be pushing forward to be held back.

I don't need to be an auditor to know this system holds back what we lack.

I don't need to be a dog to be mad.

I can only daydream to remember what we could have had.

I can just go on and on and so will my People in the generations to come.

Until we have the desire to go back and recheck facts

we’ll never be on track.

We'll always be teetering on one side, the side that divides us.

Until we wake up and want more

what are we play-fighting for?

What is the purpose of congregating but not spreading light?

What is the purpose of perpetrating insight?

What is the purpose of looking Black

but not wanting to go back to see where you came from?

What is the purpose of staying dumb?

Lacking the faculty of speech makes us weak.

If you need to be inspired to feel the fire

look no further than yourself.

Go as far as the information allows you to go

To learn what you need to know

To ensure that you continue to grow

into your total and complete Blackness.

They say we are uneducated

so, they keep us regurgitating lies

and implement our demise.

Still, most of us are unaware.

So, I thought I’d share

take corrective measures

erase ignorance

and show the significance of Black unity.

I thought I’d share my pain so you could gain insight from my mistakes

the ones that made me wait years to see me

that pushed back my victory.

I say I love My People because I do.

And I thought I’d tell My People words that are true

because they come few and far between the lies

as time continues to pass us by

and we continue to fight this war I despise.

My eyes continue to cry for us.

But we can’t get along because we don’t trust each other.

We can’t come up because we don’t uphold each other.

We’ve been brainwashed, wrapped in self-hate.

We should be first at war, yet we run late.

And give them the power to seal our fates.

Words from a Black Activist

They tell us we can jump real high

just never fly.

They say we can run real fast

just not pass the finish line.

The problem with the Negro is…

I say: F* this sh*t.**

Black people

Continue to spit on this shaky foundation we stand on

Governed by the Man

who could never understand our plight.

Continue to fight

For more than rights written while slaves swung rotting in the sun

Because they ran

They ran for a freedom that never existed.

We’ve always been resisted

And revisited by the Man’s sins

Evil ways born on the day they decided we could be herded and used

Whipped and bruised

Through and through

For years, unheard and unseen

Flooded by fear.

They lust for us

They don’t trust us

So what if we made a fuss?

What if we got strong

and got along?

What if we could hear?

What if we could flood them with our evaporated tears?

What if Black was beautiful?

What if Black was power?

What if Black could shower white?

What if Black was insight?

What if white stood back

and Black was right?

What if I told you all of this could be true

if we took the necessary measures

and did what we need to do?

Would that inspire you?

Victory may seem strange

but it’s attainable

And your mind is retrainable.

In the name of Black Power

Unlock it. Don’t block it.

If none of this has ever crossed your mind

Now is the time

To rewind

To re-see what they programmed, you to forget.

Look at what they told you and wonder

Hear what they say before they put your ass under.

They call me a troublemaker

I call them dream-takers

Forsakers of the cause

Who back up their misdeeds

With bootleg ass jacked up crooked laws.

EXCERPTS FROM THE STAGE PLAY

Ponderings of a Thinking Black Man

by Robin Ess

So, I leave you with this, Faithful Reader:

These are not just words, they are wounds, truths, and sparks.

What you do with them is up to you. But know this: the fight isn't finished, and neither is the

story. We carry it forward every time we speak up, link arms, dig deeper, or choose to unlearn

what we've been force-fed.

Until next time, keep watching the world through a Black Birdseye View, where nothing is

filtered, and everything is felt.

With respect and purpose,

Robin Ess