Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Barack Obama is Jack Johnson (by Darias OhiniJonez Lanham)


Before this begins, let me start by stating that any person of color or with middle to low income status who has faith in the government is a fool, but I can't help but note the parallels between the far rights reaction to Barack Obama and the White worlds reaction to Jack Johnson in the early 20th century. Just as much of white America was insecure at the thought of a Black man physically dominating them at the turn of the 20th century, I believe the election of Barack Obama has caused some sort of intellectual inferiority complex to arise in these stogy old Republicans. There is always going to be a stigma when it comes to being Black and successful in America, and the office of President is no different than any other realm. No elected official, even the village idiot that proceeded him in George W. Bush, has faced a backlash of this magnitude from mainstream and fantasy media (Fox News) and one can't help but believe race plays a factor. As a man who inherited a corrupt, financially crippled nation with a distraught and paranoid populace, the Whites and token Negroes who should be applauding his efforts at social reform are instead jumping down his throat. Much like the elitist run media of Jack Johnson's day, which used highly visible Whites to slander Jack Johnson's achievements (Glenn Beck= Jack London) so has the conservative media used their puppets to awaken fears in the largely White Tea Party and their supporters, that are frankly unfounded. I'm sorry White America, but if you make less than a few million dollars a year, you've already lost the country. And your support of Glenn Beck, Rush Limbaugh, and Bill O' Reilly is only lining the coffers of the same people who are bleeding your nation dry. Again, I don't trust any politician, Black, White, Chinese, Hispanic, polka dotted or however, but when you allow aversive racism to destroy your reasoning, having your prejudices used to blind you to the facts, there's no hope for people of all racial or social backgrounds. White America, you as workers also earn 262 times less than the average CEO. White America, before the Obama Administration, BP failed numerous safety inspections under the Bush Administration without receiving penalties. White America, do not forget that the problems we face as a country did not pop up in a vacuum, they have been building ever since lobbyists took over Washington. Why are you setting your sights on the corrupted, when you need to be aiming your weapon at the corrupter; would you cut a weed out of your garden, or rip it out by the root? Don't be upset when the good fruits of country die because you let the weeds of deregulation choke America's lifeblood. Just as Jack Johnson won for being the better man, Barack Obama seemed to be the only politician with any real interaction with the people over his career, therefore he seemed most sensitive to problems facing ALL Americans.

Back on to this inferiority complex I spoke of earlier. One of the few things that made the old racists inciting all this mess (Rush) comfortable was security in the superiority of the White Male over Women and the Black/Brown huddled masses. Sure, Blacks can get jobs, even run for office, but on no condition should they be at the top of the political world, the forefront of America, representing a country that will soon be just as Black and Brown as it is White. I'm not saying there's an evil group of Republicans ringing their hands coming up with evil plots to destroy Black people (which Reagan did, crack anyone?) but when the reactions are things as foolish as questioning his citizenship, I have to wonder where does it come from? His middle name is Arabic, but he was raised by Christian White grandparents and a White mother. People in the media discard the facts in order to present pre 1970's White America's biggest fear, which is a militant Black male in any sort of power. How dare Jack Johnson so brutally beat every Great White H(y)ope that he faced? How DARE you think you can run our country Black man? You could've done anything else in the world and been a token, but instead you've decided to attempt to run the "Free" World. The fact that he presents his own ideas to innovate is what I think infuriates the right wing Republicans and even a few Democrats. He's not (apparently) under control of anything but an attempt to bring his own vision to politics, though I personally think his views have been compromised. So the Tea Party and the Republicans present the intellectually inferior (polite speak for stupid) marionettes like Michael Steele.

Much like the cowardly Black leaders who condemned Jack Johnson's domination of lighter hued opponents, these Republican puppets attack Barack Obama not with any real issues in mind, not offering any positive alternatives, just simply stating I don't agree. I have no problem with disagreeing, and as this isn't boxing, one can't argue the point of him being right/wrong with no gray area. There is gray area in politics. But when you have no alternative, please keep your mouth shut, you're bringing nothing but confusion to the health care and financial debate. Where were these people complaining about American resources when our funds were being allocated to slaughtering people in Iraq. Where were these people when Ronald Reagan deregulated the market, got the upper crust rich, and left the rest of America to fight for whatever was left over, essentially not even giving us scraps, just economic droppings. You didn't raise a fuss then. I'm not a Democrat, I'm just enraged that people are choosing a party that has always had only the elite in mind. Regardless of color, 99% of us aren't elites, and never will be. Get your head out of the sand America...

After he showed the world he could defeat any man despite his color, the racist vitriol of the day lead to a witch hunt of Jack Johnson, which resulted in him expatriating himself after a trial by public opinion. Will Barack Obama, the only recent President who's thrown a crust of the American Pie at the have nots, be ousted from office in similar fashion, getting Jimmy Carter'd out of history despite having the most active Congress in decades, despite seeking bipartisanship with the same people who want to ruin him as a person. Add that to dealing with comments about his wife and family that serve no political purpose, designed just to inflame America further. On November 4th, 2008 I had assumed that America was finally starting to grow beyond petty prejudice, and we could lead a fight to overthrow and change the corrupt ways of a system, with being American as the only bond. Now I see that we have a couple more decades to go before that can be a reality.

Saturday, July 10, 2010

More Poetry By Darias "Ohini Jonez" Lanham


Night Riding

Eternal darkness turns to light

I see myself riding comets particles dangling like strings from kites

Blowing effortlessly on cosmic waves

And celestial breezes

Don’t blow my high, don’t blow my high

As I trip off forbidden fruits of youth

That freeze time and space

Making yesterday never and tomorrow non existent

Let me meditate in the now!

More than likely with a Heavenly celestial body

Vibin on a plane that’s extraterrestrial probably

The Universe is our playground

And out of this atmosphere we can never be hurt

Damn I wish we could never come back to Earth

Let’s take this limited endlessness

This short taste of infinity

And be one full nothingness as we drift along…

Ms. Neo Soul

Dedicated to my favorite singer and only R&B artist…

As her silky tones put neo soul kisses on my earlobes

Soothing vibrations tickling the strings of my heart

Massaging away all the stress of the day

Leaving just me her and the song

If music is love vocally your touch is intimate

Sensuously teasing every inch of my being

My eardrums transform into G spots

As you lay verbal climaxes with every lyric you say

Lil lady will you stay? Sing a song for a lonely poet…

For the breath between your words has become the breath between my heartbeats

Your high notes are my highlights

Writing hymns dedicated to the godliness in your voice

Though your song has become distant the spell hasn’t changed…

When I dig deep for the inspiration of ages

I think of one of your simple lines…

Let me love you baby

If only I could, because distance and destiny set our two worlds apart….

From breakfast to dinner I missed your face

Well baby I’ve been missing you from December to April

And those cheesy long distance calls don’t compare…

To your melodies kiss after your physical hug

And three months overdosing on your spiritual drugs

Believe me baby, you’re worth the wait

I got a sweet Georgia Peach won’t you come and get a taste

Let me ease your mind….

Water Bearer/Earth Sign

For ______ I want but can’t have…

Your whimsical ways entice me…

Its art watching you transform futility into fruit, and foolishness into significance

Ignorance is bliss but you ain’t slow…

My baby just likes to play crazy for those who don’t know

Sexy brown Afro Latin, eyes full of wonder movements full of passion

I was always a sucker for love but you’re every emotion in action…

Missing more than the sound of your voice…

I miss sneaking to touch your hand when you pass me a Vanilla Dutch

Just because I was too afraid to ask to hold it

I was too afraid to ask for more

Because soft emotions are easily molded

And my heart could have been smashed, stretched or possibly broken

Besides, you ain’t meant to be held, just beholden

Air gives life to Earth, water bearers bring fruit from dirt

Bringing worth from nothing

Or at least making worth feel like it’s worth something

And if worth is worth something to you

Water bearer can I get an April Shower of your lovin…

I don’t need a storm, just a sprinkle or a drip

Because my left cheek still remembers your lips

And my right cheek got jealous of the left

But my eyes sank into yours and fell into the depths

My heart grew wings and flew out of my chest

To guide you home on every single step……..

The Moon (dedicated to the title)

I wrote you a 6 page love letter after we met

The mind sex of your deep brown eyes had me vexed

I saw a Universe in you that was so simple it seemed complex

You want nothing less than the unconditional

But unconditional had conditions I couldn’t reach

Expectations I couldn’t foresee

I fell from Heaven riding your wings

So I grew my own, is it too late for you to see?

Instead of being lost in your vastness

I now appreciate your simplicity

When our minds meet it’s deeper than intimacy

Square peg with a round hole, how could you ever be into me?

It’s in fault that I perceive greatness

And if you would be so gracious as to open your Gates

That is the Heaven of your presence

I’d meditate on the Moon and watch comets fly by

Because we ain’t stars, just meteorites on the skyline of a lifetime

If I gotta race through infinity with anyone it’s you

Your nothingness is fulfilling

Water giving life that only takes shape when poured into you

Positive energy in motion, ecstasy embodied

I can’t be falling too fast, because I’ve been falling for a year and a half…

6 seasons and 18 cycles showed me I love you…

Stream of Consciousness Pt. 1

I wish Planet Niburu was real…

Save for a little intelligent company--- loneliness

A world free of hurt, safe from agony

Ripe with pure clarity

Devoid of social opiates

That cloud my mind…

Star child of darkness, like a system at the Edge of Known

Insignificant in my omnipresence disconnected from reality

There is no Universal truth but experience

People take the needle of belief and transform into fools

Forgetting all intelligence is built on ideals

Rock is strong but a slave to waters softness and persistence

Perpetual motion through existence is the fate of energy

I live as pure vibration radiating into Unknown

Casting line for company on this short voyage to eternity

Sense out of chaos, controlled variation is my futile goal

The elegance of the soul is found in its ugly points

Speaking tongues in consciousness streams

Trying not to drown in my own virtue

In trying to become God…

I finally became human…

I Am (Gaining One’s Definition)

Born into formlessness; created for a notion that is reality

Nothingness is everything in the grand scheme

Ugly truth is in our identity crisis

Pseudo celestial beings rationalizing our own self importance

Would you still love me if you know how hideous I truly was?

That I didn’t come with feathered wings

That Commandments don’t come with my entrance

And Revelations don’t come with my Exodus

My divinity is a figment of Our Hope

Of the primordial potential we remember but can’t obtain

A suicidal deity is how I define mankind

Playing God, embarking on technological Armageddon

Like a child marveling at the beauty of fire

Who has not yet tasted pain…

Drunk and Suicidal Pt. 1

When the world blows…

I’ll be here alone

That’s the Hell I’ve earned

Some sins can’t be repented

The Judgment Day of my mind

Makes my soul forever burn

An idle mind

Is one of Lucifers tools

So what the fuck am I?

I try to be good

Even tried being God

Only left wondering why..

Momma don’t cry

Daddy don’t be ashamed

I’ve only failed me

Locked from Heaven’s door

Hades closed its gates

Someone swallowed the key

I don’t care where

I wanna go somewhere

Away from inside of me

Love, loyalty

Don’t mean shit to anyone but me

I wish I could draw so you’d see

Cuz no one hears…

Halimah…

(Distance is but Space and Time)

Halimah, can I taste the nectar of life

That is the kiss of your lips…

Distance doesn’t exist

When it comes down to matters of the heart and soul…

Even Heaven beholds your presence

When your name is one of God’s virtues

Intellectually blessed with wisdom that comes in simple phrases

One sentence affects my world view

My perspective becomes that of the angel

Manifested in you… Gentle, patient, kind, humane

I fantasize of your fingertips brushing away my sorrow

When I think of this definition of you

I refuse it because it is limitation…

How does one define God? God is Love personified

And beyond that sweet four letter word, I can’t define you

Building you temples through poetry, like an Arabian Isis

Praying you bless me with your affection

Until I meet you equal…

I won’t be satisfied without you…

Eternity is a long wait…

Poetry Is Dead

Poetry died when it became cliché

Emotion replaced with alliteration

Calculated thoughts being over analyzed

By pseudo intellectuals and their philosophical posturing

Fuck your standardization of my truth

Fuck your meddling in my metaphors

And definitely fuck those two degrees you obviously paid too much for

Cuz you’re still dumb as dog shit on toast

My poetry doesn’t boast it explodes

When my ego implodes, and my id and superego

“that’s Nigga and God to you mortals” fight over my soul

Sometimes the pen and pad swallow me whole

Spewing my words into a new dimension of thought

That’s Heaven or Hell depending on what my mind is on

Scriptures encrypted in my cerebral cortex

Sucking me into a lyrical vortex

Of broken English and Shakespearian prose

Resurrecting Osiris, Isis, and Horus

Showing you what Christ is--- but the Pope he abhors this

Cuz him and his buddies in Rome got the Virgin Mary whorin’

10% of your bread for her favors---

Now if that ain’t some game I don’t know who’s really a player

Fuck Mayor I’m running for dictator

So dictate this while your ears are wet, pussies…

The revolution will not be televised it will be digitized

And spread through guerilla mass marketing

IP addresses targeted like virtual terrorist cells

For uploading truth screaming Jihad against Babylon

Cuz my God ain’t make no punk; He gave me a sword that transforms to a mic

That slays demons in the hearts of men

But you’d rather I spit about flowers and gumdrops; Cuz my authentic Black masculinity Is too powerful to be held or controlled by your creative fascism

If poetry is dead I’m going out blasting

With twin 40 Cal’s of truth taking out men women and children

Splattering ignorance across this North American wilderness

An oasis in the desert of foolishness and debauchery

Drink deep of my wisdom, escape the Hellfire of false reality

Poetry is dead, and you killed it with your fear

Fear of the thunder that is the African drum beating in me

The prehistoric vibe that moves me; raising pyramids from sand, mankind from my loins

And until you see the beauty that is the ugliness of my truth

And stop perverting what has already been raped and vilified…

Poetry is dead

New Poetry From Darias "Ohini Jonez" Lanham

Evolution (Mr. Preacher Man)

Sorry to disappoint all you power hungry bastards and greedy people

But there is no blueprint and real life has no point…

See, we all fucked up and ended up at some transformative point in history

Where our things are either going to disappear or kill us

Personally I’d much rather we get rid of things, get in tune with our inner whatever it is

And drive ourselves to the brink of perfection with only the string of humanity stopping the freefall

I free ball through your existence stuck in Woodstock 2069; playing solo’s on my psychic air guitar

Trying to rip mankind’s soul free from the mortal coil, a fate I can’t escape

So I figure if I trick everyone else into the delusion of true immortality we can die oblivious together

ARGGHHH!!!!

I’m not an existentialist, I’m an I don’t care…

I don’t care about your universal truths

I don’t care about your everlasting life

I don’t care about your stock options

In fact, I don’t give a fuck about money save for comfort

But you stumble over each other chasing imaginary shit

While I get pulled into your rat race because of mob rule

I would be the cat, and pick all of you off

But the cat seems like a lowly creature

So I guess I’m just a man beset by beasts

And I’m forced to howl and growl and scratch too…

Reality got you fooled into thinking that your tax bracket can change you

And that ghosts can come from Never Never Land and save you

In reality, the only salvation is the embrace of real nothingness

That comes at the end of this fantasized Something.

Yeah I said it, you’re not real, only God’s imagination

Animated on a stage for the supernatural’s entertainment

The State vs. Freedom of Fuck it…

Once upon a time mankind had the right to say fuck it…

But other men started making rules to protect the stuff…

What stuff? You know, the stuff societies are made of

Money, Gold, and Politricks

Need Laws, Punishment, and Religion to survive

See, the state doesn’t like Free Thought

Cuz it equals Free Action

And that ends in a big Societal Breakdown

Once people realize politicians are Tooth Fairy’s in tangible form

And they and their ilk are no less imaginary in their inventions

Free Thought will elect a President of Common Sense

That can police the world and tell us not to hurt each other

But without the right to allow our Freedom of Fuck It to evolve

It becomes trapped to the conditions of the people who want it destroyed

Monday, June 28, 2010

Rasheed Chappell




Well, for a first Inside The Artist feature, we picked one of the illest MC's in the Tri State area. The streets have been waiting and finally, some new Rasheed Chappell has hit the web. Every since this author heard the single "Building 8" I knew the brother was something special, and he returns with a special brand of street knowledge on the reggae/soul infused "I Know". Biters take note, trying to take a chunk of this brothers ghetto gospel for your own might crack your teeth. It's THAT hard...

D/L here, streaming below