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The Fire in the Stripped Soul: Why Your "Hope" Is Keeping You Trapped

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  Look here, Tribe. Pull up a chair, lean back against the porch railing, and let’s have some real talk. Today, the calendar aligns us with the frequency of Imani—Faith . But let’s get something straight right out of the gate: we are not talking about that passive, hollow hoping they handed us to keep us quiet in the cotton fields. We aren't talking about sitting around, hands folded, waiting for a miracle to drop out of the sky while our neighborhoods bleed and our families struggle. No, family. Real Imani is the raw, active, unyielding fire that stares down the deepest shadows of life without flinching. As laid out in the Warrior Handbook for Life’s Journey and the strategic blueprints of the Player’s Pyramid , Imani isn't a feel-good emotion—it is a weapon of mass creation. It is a razor-sharp focus that forces the universe to align with your inner vision. Look at our collective narrative in this American wilderness. We survived the auction blocks, the horrors of the Maafa...
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Final GoodBye III- Writing for Healing

His Story is Mine

His story is mines,
Better yet my story is his,
For now I can no longer deal with what was,
Now I have to deal with what is.
A great tree has fallen in the forest of life,
A tree that provided shade for many and a shelter from strife.
But this is not the end of his tory for his story is mine,
And his story will live through his bloodline for all time.
His story is not over because his story is mine, and I need for his loved ones to read between the lines.
Although his body is gone his spirit is strong, that explains why through the pain and confusion he lived so long.
Fear not because his story is not over because his story is mine,
He has made it to peace and he rest with the divine
We are the seeds and saplings grafted from his tree and now he can rest in comfort for his story can be told by we.
His story is not over, because his story belongs to me
For I am a proud branch on his family tree, I will always remember those that came before, those that struggled like no people before.
Like Miles Brown and the lady known as Ms. Ann their stories will live because it was passed to my hands
Like Herman Brown and Rosa lee
Like Geneva and Herman brown the second, and Cleven Brown now can peacefully join their essence
Although his body has now been returned to the earth
His story and their story has been cemented  in  time by Cleven Miles Brown's birth.
His story his mine, his story is ours, his story is ours.
Now tell it.......

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