James Earl Jones on his childhood

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blackpoemusic:

For my people standing staring trying to fashion a better wayfrom confusion, from hypocrisy and misunderstanding,trying to fashion a world that will hold all the people,all the faces, all the adams and eves and their countless generations; (…)
For my people by Margaret Walker

blackpoemusic:

For my people standing staring trying to fashion a better way
from confusion, from hypocrisy and misunderstanding,
trying to fashion a world that will hold all the people,
all the faces, all the adams and eves and their countless generations; (…)

For my people by Margaret Walker

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The state raised the glass that kept us one on each side. 

The state paid for your superiority, settled the bill on your complex when

truly yours was always the harder name to say. 

What more can the state meddle in? 

This is the subtle war of isolation and in it, what you conquer you keep. 

I  conquer your tongue.

I conquer your number game, your bedroom manners, your pile of 

rumour papers, the secrets that line your palms, the loose garments you go

to die in, your social anxiety. 

I conquer you.

I claim shadow citizenship and care very little for feeble colours that pitch

the limits of liberty between wanting and being wanted.

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blackpoemusic:

Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete? Proving nature’s law is wrong it learned to walk without having feet. Funny it seems, but by keeping it’s dreams, it learned to breathe fresh air. Long live the rose that grew from concrete when no one else ever cared.
The Rose that Grew From Concrete by 2Pac Shakur

blackpoemusic:

Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete? 
Proving nature’s law is wrong it learned to walk without having feet. 
Funny it seems, but by keeping it’s dreams, it learned to breathe fresh air. 
Long live the rose that grew from concrete when no one else ever cared.

The Rose that Grew From Concrete by 2Pac Shakur

(via artcomesfirst)

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etredepassage:

Djamel Tatah, Sans titre, 1999. Huile et cire sur toile, 220 x 200 cm. Collection particulière. Photo Adam Rzepka
http://djameltatah.com/en/ 

etredepassage:

Djamel Tatah, Sans titre, 1999. Huile et cire sur toile, 220 x 200 cm. Collection particulière. Photo Adam Rzepka

http://djameltatah.com/en/ 

(via cantmakeyoucarebutaware)

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classicladiesofcolor:

Mahalia Jackson photographed by Carl Van Vechten in 1962.

classicladiesofcolor:

Mahalia Jackson photographed by Carl Van Vechten in 1962.

(via cantmakeyoucarebutaware)

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Picking the Olive Free - Nabil Barham

we are ready for a competitive running spree around the olive tree, 

we are ready for we will be running steadily eternally, 

sharp harps and blades and their escapades 

the present is a future forgotten years ago

still sails, hollow commands bellowed cursing decades

a certain liberty is but a stone’s throw away, a stone’s throw 

unto the shore, beyond field and body

beyond the joyous rain and parting clouds

lies the madness of incomplete sounds

a desert of stillness behind word, brick and study

a cool breeze breaks the sound of oncoming waves

sand dances with tumbling pebbles chanting ‘humans are rebels (bells, bells, bells)’

echo magnified in loops to break the chains in the mountain caves

we planted feuds we must settle, brewed mint and tea in one kettle

dirt, roots and love nurture the rugged tree bark on my hands

upon the roof tops, above the paths whereon strangers never meet

rebels mistake sorrow for a joyous feast, mistake fear for righteous stands

misty skies a-top the human myth, the kettle whistles for an empty seat 

so you know we are ready for a competitive running spree around the olive tree, 

we are ready for we will be running steadily eternally, 

if you kick a living rock heavily to replace it with a brick it’s a penalty,  

not a sure secure cure for your battering enmity, 

or a pure intentionality when you’re feeding your infantry with bigotry, 

check your priorities and revise your flimflammery possessory theories, 

your trickery and thuggery breeds savagery in your artillery, 

your treachery stinks from within your capillaries, sourly cultivating diseases and maladies, 

so hand the dove a diary as a form of bribery and let it commence the inquiry,

it’s the dove’s specialty to soar above intimidating secrecy over rocks and sand, you don’t own the land, the land’s rocks merely hold our potential memories, especially when flung at mimicking enemies, so show your face like a celebrity and remember: we are ready for a competitive running spree around the olive tree, evidently we are ready for we will be running steadily eternally…

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It’s what you love, take your time with it. If you came up too quick you’d have to defend your work and it is always more fun attacking than defending

Can’t ignore such great advice, especially when it comes from Chris Blackwell.

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From director Goran Hugo Olsson (Black Power Mixtape). Words by Frantz Fanon, narrated by Lauryn Hill with previously unseen footage from the 60’s and 70’s armed struggle against colonialism in Africa. 

Can’t wait to see this.

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