In The Killing Feilds Of America

From Speak EZ N2 The Blu

Wiped Away Ode to Katrina Victims (push play)

Love and Poetry

Sometimes I didn't know who I loved more my self or my poetry. The words that come to me are as satisfying as sex. Especially when you read it for the first time after it is completed. When you memorize it for a performance and nail it the feeling is indescribable. The problem with this for me was sometimes I forsaked everything and everyone around me for the love of lyrics.

Poetry brings beauty into your life if you appreciate it and share it for the right reasons. People came in and out of my life to share this beauty but in this I can say that I lost something. The connection with those closest to me was strangled and stifled because I loved the lyrics and the lifestyle of performing.

How can something you love cause you any pain? I guess this question is asked on numerous occasions by numerous people for numerous reasons. But I have learned that my choices dictates how effective my love is and how effective I am in showing it.

The problem was poetry was a vehicle to hide insecurities and uncertainties. A way to build up an artificial life while running away from the one I had to live daily.

The realization of this made me concious of my interaction and the distractions that can take me off course in becoming the man I want to be to my family, friends, and to myself.

University Of Pennsylvania (a creative mind set)

Maurice always had something positive and proactive going on in and for the community. In 1991 he hosted and moderated a Black Man conference at the University of Pennsylvania for 5 days. This conference consited of poety, music, plays, and real discussion on issues that had been plaquing our community. One such topic was moderated and lead by myself entitled " Are Black Cops Our Friends." The discussion covered the role of Black officer within our community, The lack of involment, and the mind set of being the ultimate authority instead of a servant to our community.

The discussion began with the question, Are Black Cops Our Friends'? There was a resounding yell of no! from the crowd and a constructive discussion began.
The Philadelphia Police does not and has not operated from an holistic approach in our community. Most times when our children see them operate in our community it is from seeing them responding to a disturbance, a murder, being abusive toward a citizen, or moving young men from one corner to another.

This has spawned much tension between the community and the department.
Using a holistic approach by having these officers participate in programs such as little leauge football, baseball, or basketball can have a more positive effect on the community and assist in the mentorship of young children.

Although this would not be a cure all it would lend more credibility to the police department becoming a intricate part of the community.

Pam Africa was in the audience from the (MOVE) organization who had a terrible ordeal with Mayors Frank Rizzo and Wildon Goode. Pam stated that they were constantly harrassed and confronted by Philadelphia Police so much that the were brutally attack by the police, shot at and ultimately having their house and neighborhood blown up with C-4 killing members in the house and firing up them as they attempted to leave the burning building. This was truly a heart wrenching story
delivered by her.

The discussion of Rodney king and personal stories rang through the room attempting to come up with solution that would make our experience with police better.

After the discussion we her the sounds of congas in the hall as we segwayed to the next discussion or performance. This was a lesson in true community service and organizing.

A Evening With A Master Griot

On September 6th I went to the Tin angel at Sarranos on 2nd street in Philadelphia to see on of the most influential musican/poet in my life time. Gil Scott Heron,
a true blast from the past and word revolutionary. Just like the Last Poets he brought words and music laced with social commentary to the masses of the black community and they loved him for it. A modern day moses of his day he came to Philly to share his classic's Winter in America, In the Bottle, The Revolution will not be televised, and losing Detroit. I got a chance to shake the hand of this legend, meet him face to face and to look into the soul of a man with so much insight of the world around him. I fashioned a lot of my music to his style of writing and delivery
due to listening to his Albums over and over again. Although his life has been peppered with troubles, he has always found a way to over come his demons and
sing about it.

Speaking Truth To Power

This statement was mentioned each time before we performed on stage. Maurice set up a college tour at Delaware State University, Rutgers in Camden New Jersey, Temple University, and Philadelphia Community College. This was the time to showcase our talent and give back to our community with our words. Maurice would like to close the show strong so he would have us go in a certain order which seemed perfect.

During this time I had a spiritual awaking to serve my community through service and writing. This gave me the idea to begin a small publication called " Grass Roots Magazine." Since every time we turned on the television all we saw was negative images of black men and women and never saw the positive work that was going on in our community. I even personally called news stations and news periodicals in attempts to get coverage and always received a Luke warm response.

Two of the papers that always gave us ink were The Philadelphia Tribune and The Scoop Newspaper. Junious Stanton of the scoop and Nikki Taylor of the Tribune kept our events and performances on radio and in print. I also need to mention WPEB Radio and Temple Radio who gave us the airwaves during this time.

Grass Roots was a free publication that spotlight positive people within our communities. The activist, entrepreneurs, positive children, Adults, and events.
The first person spotlighted was a entrepreneur by the the name of James who owns "Before and After Barbershop" which I am glad to say is still in business 15 years later. Located a block below Broad and Nedro and across from the AM/PM station.
James has kept this barbershop viable and a continued service to the community.

He also for a short time also opened up a eatery next door to the barbershop compounding his earning potential. This was not only exceptional then, it served as an example of what young black men need to look at in a era of reduced jobs and poverty.

The magazine also featured up and coming writers and street reporters who kept us informed with what was happening positively in the community.

Philadelphia Community College hosted the National Conference Of Black Writers every year. This was a place where we performed and sold our books and listened from the experts on writing. Authors such as Nathan McCall, Sonia Sanchez, Walter Mosley and a rare conversation with Gwendolyn Brooks. This Conference is a Philadelphia gem that needs to stay funded and expanded.

Moonstone Books ran by a book lover by the name of Larry on 13Th street between locust and Walnut street in Philadelphia was were he had 100 poets speak and read from their books. This was a big event every year where each writer would read, network, and sell their books to guess and one another. You would hear the beginners and the polished all day.

To hear a person's truth as they see it gives us a better perspective on how others see the same things we see.

The was shown when I went to Passaic County College for a confernce named "Unsettling America". the confernce was a multi cultural approach toward poetry with workshops and performances by poets from all nationalities.
African American, Hispanic, Jamaican, Japanese, and Itailian writers displayed
their craft and taught at workshops.

The likes of Amiri Baraka and Quincy Troupe were the stand outs that day. They show me diffrent ways of delivering my work through word play and sound.

"We must use our words before we lose them".......Poetica

The Charles Blockson Reception

Charles L. Blockson has distinguished himself as a historian dedicated to black history. His commitment to black history extended to genealogy, and he published the seminal Black Genealogy with Ron Fry in 1977. Blockson also amassed one of the largest private collections of African-American history in the United States, a collection he donated to Temple University in 1984. In the mid-to-late 1980s, he compiled a number of African-American narratives in The Underground Railroad, and created an illustrated map of the railroad for National Geographic. He has likewise worked diligently to promote the preservation of landmarks central to African-American history. Blockson continues to lecture internationally and is considered one of the foremost experts on the Underground Railroad.

Maurice contacted me and told me that I had to arrive at a Literary reception in honor of Charles Blockson a Icon in the Philadelphia black literary circle in preservation of black writing. This place was amazing poets and vendors of black art and jewelry were stationed throughout the hall. Maurice lois and I were setting up our books and getting ready for the reception to begin. A reporter of an independent news paper began to interview us about Ralph Ellison and his impact on black literature with his book "The Invisible Man" Lois answered his question with shear precision and eloquence. Maurice turned the question into a small conversation just as a professor would and expounded on the importance of his work. Well when it came to him asking me the same question I had to be honest and tell him that I did not read Ellison's book. The report looked puzzled being as though I was in the midst of some of Philadelphia's most learned writers. How could I not have read this book?
Being polite he ask me what did I think of the state of black writing today?
I told him that I felt that black writing today is at stand still when it comes to
passing the history to our children. There is no knowledge of men like Charles Blockson who dedicates his entire life to it's preservation single handedly.
I feel we need to do a better job in promoting and reading old and new literature
to our children to give them a much better since of identity.

This satified tha reports and he smiled and moved on to someone else. Maurice on the other hand told me that I should have not stated that I didn't read the book but should have asked for a diffrent question all together. The moral I quess was to not look ignorant in a circle of intellectuals. Now you know I went out and bought his book right away and began turning pages immediately. I was not going to get caught up like that ever again. A list a poets were called upon to make a small comment
on black writing and read a poem. My speech was about the black education system and the need for African American history to be taught in schools. I then began to read this poem entitled "Black Destruction"

The destruction of a black civilization
is now the focal point of the nation
drugs crimes incarceration
the exploitation of explosive situations
drug dealing senseless killings of youths
the lives we're stealing
the graves we're filling
we to save our race
now who is willing
constantly striving always surviving another day
to make a better way
bureaucrats plot and scheme placing poison
in the black mainstream
beating us down, locking us down in cells
man made hell.
Thousands strong gone too long
for a society in which they once belonged
We must stop the destruction and demoralization
of a black nation and preserve our civilization.

This was my signature poem and it went over good with the many who attended.
After the reception I got a chance to meet the man of the hour. I was impressed
with his love for black books rare and out of print. This is what made me a collector
and inspired reader to this day.

Reflections of A Battlefield

It was Ten thounsand of us or more
sent to fight a blood war
in the middle of the night
we engaged in a fire fight
as the battle rose an fell
I felt the blazing heat of hell
I tried to keep calm and cool
and not to act just like a fool
an to myself I wondered why
as all around I saw men die
and on that blood soaked battle sod
I thought about my lord my God
and on that battlefield of pain
I felt that I was born again
Now I'm home safe and sound
with my family all around
and when I think about that day
I fall upon my knees and pray
to end the battlefield of strife
an to save another soldiers life.

Osayimwese Offers Music to Cease Fire Org

We are working on donating music to the Chiacago based group Cease Fire who is presently trying to stop violence amongst young black boys. "In the Killing Feilds of America" is a song that depicts the ungoing struggle violence in the black community. Help us fund good organizations that is trying to stop the genocide in our communities.

Buy a the MP3 @ www.cdbaby.com/cd/osayimwese

Poetic Ventures Site closed

Due to the Recession another business has to close. No Poetic Ventures is not over but It's time to move on from paid websites. It served me well for the last 15 or so years but now I will place all info in this blog. so follow me in a new direction.

Republican Rhetoric

Fascism is alive!
So say the Republicans.
The saviors of our rights
Turn out the lights
and continue to walk backward while blind folded
It was duly noted that it was Saddam's time
No need to find W.M.D.'S
When White Men Do Shit.
No United Nations, "We'll go it alone"
Get Karl on the phone to spin the Hoover Doctrine
So tight that it could not be unwoven even by Johnnie Cochran.
With no rationalization, take a nation
Kill God's creation as spirits yell Allah Akbar
As they explode taking a soldiers life
Who has a daughter and a wife
Don't shoot photos of the caskets
They'll see our loss, learn the true cost of war
Blood, Sand, and tears evokes fears for wives and mothers
Hold your dogs back as they attack humans
like it was the sixties in Guantanamo just not Mississippi
Bring it on is the catch phrase that tethers rage to the tongue of Rush,
Hannity, and Glen Beck as they re veil the truth.
So much that it forced a man to shoot cops
to protect his 2ND amendment rights to bear arms to the alarm of the cops he shot
Mission accomplished in killing our surplus.
Killing our children, Killing our economy and Killing our spirit
Another contract on America.
Thank God for the ousting of the thieves as they leave a broken
country, with broken pockets, broken hearts and Rhetoric.

speak EZ CD preview

"1. Intellectual Freestylin - Osayimwese"

Robins Book Store Book Signing

Dr. Maurice Henderson set me up for my first signing for " The Reflections Of A Blackman's Mind." at Robins Book Store located one block above Walnut Street in Philadelphia. I was on the bill with with Miss Black America Laverne Pinkney a beautiful slender woman who was also releasing her first poetry chapbook under " New Arts Production" a mini publishing company owned by Dr. Maurice Henderson.

This small yet quaint book store hosted some of the greatest writers of Philadelphia
and tonight I would make my debut. Laverne Pinkney went up first and read some powerful poems that had the women nodding their head in agreement with her words and gestures. When I was introduced to the mic a sense a nervousness hovered over me until I reached the podium.

There is where I first introduced myself to the small audience with my then Fiance',Shambra, My son Simon and daughter Ebony eagerly waiting to see what I had in store for them and the audience.

I began with a poem I wrote in a 8Th grade creative writing class. This poem was simple yet good enough to be graded with a B- the minus was for punctuation.

This poem broke the ice for me because after the applause from my first poem I wanted to share my enter most thoughts.

So I went to a poem called the pretender. This poem show how I dealt with living in a foreign country while in the US Navy. There were other Blacks on the ship I served on but they even seemed foreign to me because the were from all over.

Louisiana, New York, Baltimore, South Carolina, and Detroit. At 18 it was hard to navigate new surroundings but through writing I keep things even and calm.

The audience responded to this poem and others read such as Black Destruction, Black Survival, and The Reflections of a Battlefield.

I sold most of my books that night which was a good accomplishment for a first timer.
Maurice told me that I had a lot of work to do because I read from the book and he wanted to see me be more expressive and explosive on the mic.

Ron's Ribs

Rons Ribs was a famous rib spot on south street. Not only did Ron serve some of the best ribs and chicken in the city. He was also a community activist who lent his space to jazz bands, community events and poets.

This is where some of the most progessive and intelligent people gathered.
I remembered a night when two brothers, one Mel Davis a Lt. Junior Grade in the United States Navy and Butch Slaughter another member of the Navy held community meetings and book reading clubs called Harambee's. These meeting place me closer to my African history and roots.

During one of these meetings they had at roundtable discussion on male and female relationships. Just as today this was a very heated topic. There was one male at this meeting that drove the women crazy, I will call him brother X.

Well Brother X kept us on the defensive all night. When the Sisters would ask a question like, Why do brothers cheat? His answer would be, Why do Sisters Cheat?
obviously you are not giving the man what he needs at home.

The women were fighting one another to get at this brother? The next thing I heard was a woman state, What is it that you want? Many of you still run out all times of night even if things are good at home.

Brother Mel intervened to get some order in the meeting an give Brother X a chance to redeem himself because at that time he was on a Island on his own. Not a man in the room made a sound. It was as if every man's mother called their names at the same.
time.

Brother X was not moved he came back complaining how a woman would draw you in by giving everything you want and then slowing taking things away making you barter and beg for it. He specifically complained how women liked to withdhold sex when ever they get angry, or would bring up problems with you without focusing on their own faults.

Well the claws came out. The temperature rose in the room went up by 80 degrees and rising. Most of the brothers attempted to shut him up when a sister by the name of Stephanie said " let me at him."

She stated that Brothers need stop lying to women and be truthful so a woman can make a choice. The brothers all raised they're hands and one brother by the name of Jay stated " Even if we tell you we have a woman or we don't want to be exclusive you don't hear us.

Jay stated that he was out at a party where every one at the table was the X boyfriend or X girlfriend of other at the table.

He stated how couples could not keep a commitment to one another would easily give up when times get hard.

This was the first of many Harambees where brothers and sister progressively came together to discuss community issues.

Ron Ribs was the place where the hottest Poetry Slams Occured poets such as Tyrone Highsmith,Lois Moises, Selvin Gordon, Kimmika Williams, Stephanie Renee, Eric Webb, and Crystal Brinson.

This was the beginning of some positive spoken word performances.

What A Great Day

Woke this morning to history
it stared me in the face with reflections of
Martin, Malcolm, kunta,Emmit, those ancestors lost along the way

The chill in the air did not come from the Artic, It came from the millions
of Ancestors who came to bear witness to an historic event in the universe
nestled between millions of people they all stood proud.

If you listened to the wind you would hear the drums of Kenyan, Masai,congo,and morrocan warriors play.
The bugles of the soldiers who battled for our freedom on this soil slaves and country men
and if you close your eyes and really listen you will hear the tears of Fredrick Douglass stream down his face.
I woke this morning to history

Where every man, woman, and child, jew and gentile stood in the center of this land and proclaimed
that I am American! African, Hispanic, Irish, german, italian, Haitain, Jew, and Arab.
With no care and no fear of the future but with hope of the progress to come.
I woke this morning to history

I am only one of millions who some time ago pressed the button of hope to end tyranny and uncertainty in my heart.
My choice was made in hope of setting us apart once again from a world that was ran without a compass.
My choice was made in order to chart a new path through a new man who respected my voice and my choice.
I woke this morning to history

Got down on my knees and thanked God for Barack Obama 44th Presidency.

What a Great Day

Osayimwese Nadir Karume.

I Have A New Dream

I have a New Dream
That Little black boys and black girls stop getting killed in the cross fire of their neighborhoods.

I have a New Dream
That we as black people will study and learn about our true selves and no longer allow other cultures to define who we are.

I have a New Dream
That black men stop turning their neighborhoods into killing fields and black women stop allowing themselves to be exploited in such degrading ways.

I have a New Dream
That we as parents will begin to take a better interest in our children educational future and stop expecting other institutions and people to handle our affairs with them

I have a New Dream
That we as a collective will stimulate economic growth in our community by creating and spear heading entrepreneural businesses and supporting them.

I have a New Dream
That we will begin to respect life,respect our elders, our father, and mothers as God intends us to.

I have a New Dream
That we as Beautiful Black African people come together collectively and address all of our problems so that we can return to greatness as a people once again.

I have a New Dream
For you, for me, our children and our future.

Written by James E. Johnson Jr. (Aka) Osyimwese Nadir Karume

History is Mine

I think back on the day when we were slaves, bound and chained like cattle. Our eyes lowered as white men looked over us and sold our women and children.
In the south we hung in the breeze where cotton fields swayed to the southern wind as our women screams cracked through the silent nights.
I watched dogs of german decent bite down on us while we fought in world wars to protect our America. While German soldiers were afforded better quarters than us.
Our Blood spilled over these green pastures in this land of liberty for our Freedom.
From Vietam to Iraq we withstood attacks, foreign and domestic with limited potection
as we marched on Washington for a King, marched on Washington with a million men, marched on Washington with a million more to tell them we knew the score.
As we got Am-bushed and taken aback to the attacks on our voters rights in florida twice! smelled like Mississippi of the 1800's, I had to check the date to see if I had it straight, This wasn't the Magnolia state? Our people drowned in a town called Katrina but they still maintained their stregth though it all even if Moises did not hear their calls.
History is mine in a time to remember that history is made not by chance but by necessity. With God Blessing and God's speed may Barack Obama be blessed during his
44th Presidency.

Written By Osayimwese Nadir Karume (AkA) James Edward Johnson Jr.