Quote for the day

"The other day I got a letter from the government/ I opened and read it/ it said they were suckas..." Chuck D.

Found! Facebook conversation

Ratonda Bender
FACEBOOK FAM....PLEASE READ THIS ! PLEASE READ AND REPOST FOR MY BOYS MISSING LITTLE COUSIN. Just think if it was ur loved one....MISSING: Dillon Alexander, 11 years old. Last seen at Lou Dantzler Prep Middle School located on Challengers Boys and Girls Club
5029 S. Vermont Ave. Los Angeles, CA 90047.
Please call Bobby Alexander at 3237108196
Please keep him in your prayers and for a safe return home. This is my little cousin. — Kwe Johnson
Like · · Follow Post · February 26 at 10:28pm
Frozine Thomas and 2 others like this.

Tanya Merriweather RATONDA I'M PRAYING FOR HIS SAFE RETURN....IF AT ALL POSSIBLE WOULD YOU PLEASE PROVIDE US A DESCRIPTION OF HIM...HT WT ETC. CLOTHING..PLEASE. MY PRAYERS ARE WITH YOU AND YOUR FAMILY @ THIS TIME. THANK YOU GOD BLESS
February 27 at 8:36am via mobile · Like · 1

Ratonda Bender I posted this for a friend (Kwe Johnson)
February 27 at 8:40am · Like · 1

Tanya Merriweather Okay....thanks
February 27 at 3:01pm via mobile · Like · 1

Ratonda Bender Tanya, the young man has been found safe and his with his parents...Praise God
February 27 at 3:02pm · Like · 3

Lynda Conroy Ellison thank you LORD!!
February 27 at 4:10pm · Like · 1

Tanya Merriweather PRAISE GOD......THANK YOU GOD
February 27 at 6:20pm via mobile · Like

Fedett Ladyj Johnson That is wonderful! God is good!
Tuesday at 8:48am · Like · 1

Tracy Walker That's why I started this page!!!!! God Bless! They are all our children!
about a minute ago · Like

THE NIKEL chapter 30

Life had some bandages on his face and lip. He pulled up in Hannibal’s driveway and saw Olivia and Saba sitting on the porch. Saba’s hair had grown and her eye patch was gone. He got out of the car and walked up to the porch. “Good evening, Ms. Olivia. And you too, Saba.”

“Greetings, Life.” Olivia said and smiled.

“Hello Life.” Saba said.

“Is Hannibal upstairs?”

Olivia took his hand and kissed his palms. She sat him down next to her on the porch and spoke to him softly. “Son, Hannibal has gone on to be with his friends.”

“He…?”

“Yes.” Olivia took his hand and led him into the house. It looked so different. The
women were gone. There were plants and flowers everywhere.

"Ball? Gone?"

"Just...Not here." Olivia responded.

Yep

Because Uraeus is a winner

I woke up this morning thinking about Uraeus. Well, I usually wake up and go to sleep and spend the day with my son on my mind. Today I was thinking about what an inspiration he is to me. I went to his track meet last week and he pulled a muscle and knew that he probably wouldn't run. So? I went to his meet to see him not run. What? Uraeus runs the 800 and at the last minute his coach put him in to run the 100 dash. I don't know why but he did and Uraeus ran it without all the "yeah buts." No, he didn't win but he ran and gave it is all. Pushed all the way through and after it was over he walked over to me and gave me the thumbs up. Our signal for I'm ok.

I know so many adults who won't even dare do anything they might not win. I can't tell you how many times I have been at shows and the promoter changed a performers order from third to first and the performer lost it! Talkin' yeah but city here.

He is a winner. This is how you play life. You roll with the changes and you win and you lose and keep playing and you give the thumbs up at the end of the day.

I am grateful for this day

Good morning beautiful people. Good morning world. Thank You Mother Father God for this day. This wonderful day.

Seriously?

Hope Flood

Ok I know some of yall gonna be mad at me but I gotta say it. Viola Davis hair at the Oscar was a nappy ass mess! first it was the wrong color for that dress she looked like a tomato, save that hair style for the nigga awards. not with them white folks. Then her tits were all wrong in that dress, she either needs a boob job or a lift up something (she shoulda got with the drag queens for them tits) ok but her hubby was fine. I know yall gonna tear my ass up but somebody had to say it. And no i aint been nominated for shit so i know some of yall sayn stfu and im hatin' lol



Wow. Reading this post by a black woman made me feel...a way.

Thank You Mother Father God for this day

Good night beautiful people.
I love you. I do.

The unwind free write

because sometimes i feel haunted by dead babies and children and women and fathers who tried and tried and they didnt make it to see the next day and i pretend its just for fictions sake but secretly i believe these dead babies and and children and mothers and fathers find me somehow to tell their stories because they know i will and if i dont there is no sleep for me that sounds crazy to you doesnt it tell the truth it sounds crazy to me to and perhaps i am just superstitious and maybe nothing will happen if i just come home and go to sleep but i cant manage that and now i want to go to bed because i had a long day and long and thankfully easy day but i have to get up early tomorrow and i want to go to bed but i just wrote a poem about a mother scrubbing the blood stain from the front of her house and the blood was belonged to her ten year old son who was shot and he did nothing and these stories keep coming and tamara told me that one about her neighbor and i dont remember if he was ten but he was young and i cried when i heard the story and that was years ago and i never forgot and i pray for my sons safety all the time all the time God please be with my son and I know God is and i still pray and this free write will not be edited just read or dont maybe go to bed and get some sleep but me i cannot do that just go to bed not now not before i say something stupid and funny and it doesnt even have to be funny to you as long as it makes me laugh because laughter will keep the stories away until the morning or whatever

The today - draft 3

There are mornings yet to come
We make up songs to sing

Today we scrub
Tomorrow
We will get her through tomorrow

Let our collective energy
Be enough to get her through the night
We hold each other

What will we have left of him
If we erase the blood stain
We scrub and we are afraid
Girls will jump rope here
And not remember his name

We used to love
We used to laugh
There are no hymns to hum as we scrub
Today we take turns scrubbing stories

Stockings are a joke a memory a luxury
Skirt and shoes
It is everything to brush teeth
Put on lipstick
To speak
To pray

Our lives
Our bills
Our sex
Our relationships
Our work is a codine blur
We robot through
With her
With our sister

We can't keep track
Back to black and red so fast
From blue to green to brown
Too many colors

This is the rainbow Ntzoke called enuf
We secretly hope the fumes will kill us too
But we breathe
For her
For ourselves
For him

This is no mother's duty
Others walk by like this is common
We scrub the cement walk with her
With borrowed prayers
We lift skirts and fold up jeans
Bend to knees both hands on brushes

Head over red bucket
Filled with tears
With Pinesol
With ammonia
With bleach

If she is that boy's mother
We are all that boy's mother

Breaking news at ten or not

Daddies fall to their knees
Mamas cry

Shot on the way home
We have heard this story before
Somebody shot him about to jog up the steps
A ten year boy who did nothing
But play basketball around the block

The today - draft 2

At Rochelle's
Sharing stories about our hoods
Everybody's got a story about theirs
We are storytellers

Little girl around the corner from Blue
Named Melody can sing better than Lauren Hill
Since she was three

Tara's neighbor's cousin's twins
Remi and Martin grew up to be
Drug and alcohol rehab counselors
They say Remi had a girl she named Moet
But I don't believe that
We just can't let a story be good enough
You know

Michelle was too quiet
She aint never quiet

Rocky
The woman upstairs from her
Had a ten year old boy who played basketball
Around the block
Comin' home about to jog up the steps to her house
Somebody shot him

We've all heard stories about kids
Shot on the way home
Mothers crying
Daddies falling to their knees

Breaking news at ten or not

We got quiet with her
Took a moment to breathe
To be that boy's mother

Fill a red bucket
With Pinesol with ammonia with Ajax with bleach
Bend to knees both hands on brush
Scrub the cement walk with prayers with tears
Others walk by
Like this common
Like this is her duty

This is no mother's duty

We breathed in the fumes
Halfway hoping that they might kill us too
This is the rainbow Ntozake called enuf

Too many colors
We go from red to blue to green
Back to black and red so fast
We can't keep track

Of our bills
Of our lives

It is everything to put on lipstick
Skirt and shoes
Stockings are a joke a memory a luxury

There are no songs to hum as we scrub
We take turns
Scrubbing our stories
About life
About when we used to laugh
How we used to love

We scrub and we are afraid
Of erasing the bloodstain
Because what will we have left of him then

We hold each other
Our collective energy might just
Make up almost enough for
The next woman to breathe and make it till morning

We will get her through tomorrow
Tomorrow
Today we keep scrubbing

Keep making up songs to sing
About mornings yet to come

Oh quotes I find on Facebook, I love you