Brown Skin Playlist

people turned to savages
scavengers off the unable

and this non-action IS action,

it enables.

the ever omnipresent “they”
subconsciously sways public opinion

our thoughts, agendas and expressions
bent to any whim

we are spoon fed diluted information

turned into willing participants
because, general consensus is: purgatory isn’t as bad as hell

if we bide our time long enough
it won’t matter if we were murderer or witness

the temptation we face is gained privilege

our silence is what mars our true selves
those who refuse to speak against injustice will have no soul to sell

by design, the way we are constructed to think
is that our truth is the truth, simply because of what we perceive

but the thing about your truth
is you’re the only one who believes

the actual, factual, non-biased truth is more than what you see

simply because it is not acknowledged, it doesn’t cease to be

crack rocks of ignorance are sold to the masses
and the dope boys are those in power
as we wait, subservient, in purgatory
fast approaches the final hour

to avoid the brimstone and the fire
find the cause in which you seek

all are bound and shackled within their mental
and only the truth will set us free

*insert “root of all evil”

It’s Winfield via Mays Hall a.k.a. The Pit of Despair [and I mean that in the best way possible]. A couple of weeks ago, my friend Chitown invited me and a couple of my Mays Hall brothers to go Speech Club [Toastmasters International] with him at the bordering school. We went. People gave speeches. We clapped. It was cool. Blah, blah, blah. It was so cool in fact that three of us signed up to give speeches for the next club meeting which was two weeks away. (Yesterday, today.)

Originally I had planned on speaking in the defense of marijuana. Those who know me personally, know I always have a paper on weed handy (yes, it’s true). To my displeasure, a woman from Toastmasters called me Sunday afternoon (the day before the speech) saying that it was to be written within the theme of Love and Romance. Now, some might say I have a jaded view on love. I choose to see it more as simply a sensitive perspective. I believe that romance and passion within love is beautiful (I am, after all, a Scorpio), but overly romanticized love is disgusting and inauthentic.

So in accordance with my feelings, this is more or less the speech I gave:

In our society, Love (or more specifically, romantic Love) is perceived to be the ultimate end-all, be-all. It has the power to transform beasts into men, peasants into princes and mistreated maids into classy Cinderella stories. When it comes to love, ain’t no mountain high, ain’t no valley low, ain’t no river wide enough, baby. Since childhood, at the earliest point in time of our socialization into American culture, we are taught to believe that true love can overcome any and all obstacles. And personally, I don’t think there is anything wrong with that. However, along with the notion that love can best any foe, tame any beast and make still all ill will, there is a paramount hypocrisy.

The problem I have with American society’s perception of love is not the enduring strength a man receives when he is fully invested in love, and being in love, and staying in love. Nor is it the enormous power a woman wields when full-contact, no thoughts, no regrets love immerses her for the very first time. The problem I have with the American perspective is how it has manifested itself into a giant painting simply titled “This Is Love.”

Now there is no actual painting entitled “This Is Love,” of which I am actually referring to, but you see it wherever you go. It’s in Hollywood movies, romance novels, the billboards you pass on your way to work, in the music you listen too or if you watch any type of television within two weeks of Valentine’s Day. The problem with this painting is it sets the standards of what people are to emulate. As in, “If that’s what Love looks like, then what the fuck do I have?” Therein lies the ruse.

Everybody is trying to create the same exact painting, when how can love be made to fit neatly into a little box with a bow? How can love be tied in with a bouquet of roses like a miniature card? How can something as complex and tried as love be homogenized so that to not fit within the set mold is seen as cold, or uncaring? It’s true: roses, jewelry and candy can represent, portray and even show the love and affection you might feel towards another person, but they can never replicate actual love. Even the dictionary, the bearer of language, could never truly define anything other than simply the essence of love.

It is a concept so terrible it can make you want to die, cry, break things, call her phone over and over and over and over and over again until it’s 3 o’clock in the morning and she won’t answer the phone but all you want to do is hear her voice on the answering machine, and as the world burns around you, nothing else matters. But love can be wonderful, love can be brilliant, love can inspire, love can be all those things that Lionel Richie sings about. What we all seem to forget is that love between two people is unique as the people themselves, and no two loves look or feel alike.

The point I’m trying drive home is: Shape and develop your own love. Create your own painting, and make it as beautiful as you want, because you can design it look just the way you want, and just the way you don’t. Below is a poem I wrote for a woman whom is very close to me (which I also read at Toastmasters).

This is Winfield saying, “Do the right thing.”
Peace & Blessings to All.

The Right Thing

The alarm clock reads 4:00

Honey is asleep, still,
Snoring me a lullaby,
White noise from the television singing backup

My fingers run up her taut stomach,
Trapezing around her navel,
Combing the light fuzz

Honey heaves short, labored breaths from deep within her chest,
Enveloping me in the moment,
and in her somber luminescence

Scruff from my chin itches her shoulder
As I push nearer, hand on her belly

I pretend to know what burden she holds

Dreams, hopes, love…

His name would be Jeremiah, but we’d call him Jerry
Or Nathanial and then I’d call him Nat

What if her name was Mary Ann?

With her mother’s eyes…
Young yet wise beyond her years
Genuine to a fault

She’d have my look of disdain,
Unable to unclench her eyes
When her heart was full
Of pain, of anger, of sorrow

Coated a warm, bronzed molasses
Honey ambition, chocolate natural ability

She would smell like the coconut oil
That we would rub through her hair
And be able to grin so wide
You’d be able to count every tooth

Then Honey begins to cry,
Asleep, still

Threading a finger through her long, brown hair
I say,
“Honey, it’s okay.”

She turns to face me and moans a requiem with such melancholy,
I almost cry myself

I want to be anything she ever needs

Whispering, I let her know
I love her

But I don’t even know if she hears me or not

How she spoke my name just oh so divine;
Like none before her and none other since.
She was rare as a passing second in time,
Spanning the length of my self, inch by inch.

I lose all strength when her glance and mine cross,
Barely keeping balance, her love my crutch.
Truly, my Helen, a war worthy cause,
A playwright’s dream to ado about much.

No beastie alive, to me, could deter
For all that I am is meant just for her.

I know, I know, I know… it’s been awhile since I’ve posted, but calm down and change your stankin ass undies. I come bearing gifts.

A friend of mine sent me this link to Aaron McGruder’s Black Jesus. It’s just one ingredient of the Super Rumble Mixshow, along with Tubesteak, Negrology, Dear John Witherspoon & the Negro News Brief. The shit is hilarious.

If you don’t know who Aaron McGruder is, he is the very talented creator of the Boondocks, which was originally a syndicated comic strip but is now a cartoon on CartoonNetwork’s [adultswim]. Give it a look see, browse through the other clips and I dare you not to laugh!

The Cure

It’s Gettin Old

Tubesteak Exposes Obama! [part 3]

& don’t forget to check out parts 1, 2 and 4

Peace & Punch,
Winfield

As ‘Prelude to Sunrise’ crescendos,
Sheep Hill waits, quavering like a flower ready to bloom

Early morning’s mist beads on the cheek
Of every leaf,
Collecting in the cleavage
Trailing down to the tips and swelling,
Teardrops suspended from every lash

And when first light fuses past the horizon,
Placid yellows,
Self-deprecating reds and burnt oranges
Blush
Over my purple mountains majesty,
Foreshadowing the foliage to come

And with the sun,
My heart wistfully rises, bloating
Until my soul aches

Because like I know this place,
This place knows me with a bittersweet fondness,
A chilling warmth,
Like a summer sunrise in Williamstown

Wading in repressed nostalgia,
Some days are worth more than others

I would live to breathe
For my Berkshire beauty queen
If so many of her promises weren’t weaved with duplicity

But nothing ever changes.

And as dawn breaks and the shadows trickle down through the valleys
Flooding across the clearings,
Light filters through the trees,
Cross-hatched all down Cold Springs,
The Village Beautiful takes a deep breath

Savor your chilled warmth
And shiver in devotion

Usually, on certain holidays and this one specifically, I like to fast and contemplate the ideals that the day “promotes.” So, in honor of Martin Luther King, Jr., I present:

The MLK Day Mixtape

1. Paint It Black – Gil Scott-Heron, Evolution (And Flashback)
2. The Rape Over – Mos Def, The New Danger
3. Nigger Hatred – Nas, Nigger/[Untitled]
4. Be A Nigger Too – Nas, Nigger/[Untitled]
5. Ridin’ featuring Dead Prez & Talib Kweli – David Banner, Certified
6. The Mystery of Iniquity – Lauryn Hill, MTV Unplugged 2.0
7. Stress Rap – Cannibal Ox, The Cold Vein
8. Caught In The Hustle – Immortal Technique, The Silenced Revolution
9. Make You Feel That Way – Blackalicious, Blazing Arrow
10. Baba Says Cool For Thought – Lupe Fiasco, Lupe Fiasco’s The Cool
11. Johnny Was – Bob Marley, Rastaman Vibration
12. Handcuffs – Lupe Fiasco, Trials & Tribulations
13. Black Girl Pain – Talib Kweli, The Beautiful Struggle
14. Fire Falling – David Banner, Mississippi: The Album
15. Blind Mary – Gnarls Barkley, The Odd Couple
16. Somersault – DangerDoom, From Man To Mouse [...]
17. Black Zombie – Nas, The Lost Tapes
18. Niggas – Asheru, Insomnia: Sleepless In Japan
19. Retrospect for Life featuring Lauryn Hill – Common, One Day It’ll All Make Sense
20. We The People Who Are Darker Than Blue – Curtis Mayfield, Curtis
21. The Proud – Talib Kweli, Quality

Also, I’m attaching this episode from Aaron McGruder’s cartoon series The Boondocks called Return of the King. If you haven’t seen it, I’m sure you all can gather from that what the premise is. There is great truth in this life if you choose to listen. Enjoy and check out the links on the mixtape.

Peace, harmony & community.
Winfield

Like how we came to pretend
Coffee and a hug
Every now and then
Kind of, sort of makes
Us
Into friends

But who, in your world, could I play
In a reoccurring role?
Syringing my faux feelings to make your heart beat or risk
Myself,
My true nature exposed

Who could I
Really
Be…
In relation to your Stimpy?
Put plain,
Are we not broken,
Pleasantries feigned?
Ultimately, ending as ends, estranged,
In a relationship of convenience
A Ren only temporarily, simply.
Yet, we’ve come to pretend
That a phone call every three months
Kind of, sort of
Makes “us”
Into “friends”

And there has been
Far too many to count,
But they know
Who they are.
Ghosts from my past.
Lost friends,
All could be
Blamed for life moving too
Fast

For the taste of realism,
Bitter yet distinct, leaves
Nostalgia of our old habits to ferment,
Fester, stink.
I swear,
We knew each other.
The long chill of once familiarity
Sweeps through like old memories
Of an empty house.
It seems that so many are lost
In the shuffle
Of one’s own doubt

But, here we are,
Spaced by infinity.
Connected by adventure, tedium,
Horrors, to make us cringe.
Childhood secrets left in the chrysalis of adolescence
Forgotten as women and men.
Somehow does that kind of,
Sort of,
Make us,
Into friends?

Somersault (Zero 7 Remix) – MF Doom [prod. by Danger Mouse]

[Chorus - Sia Furler]
You put my feet back on the ground
Did you know you brought me around
You were sweet and you were sound
You saved me

She wondered would it hurt again, a scary new setting
a Mary Lou Redding, perfect 10, was it worth it then
he woulda made the clicks switch way back
for a quick pitch in the haystack
with a bad bitch, like payback with interest
used to keep a nice cool trimless
flipped it for a highschool gymnast
she was thicker than the kick off supersonic
sicker than the bubonic, to Vik it was plutonic
wow…found a new playmate,
at this late stage he couldnt get the name straight
told her it was all up in your calf muscle,
showed her how to pull it off
brawl, laugh and tussle
at one point, she thought he was a lame cat
with game for the rats, a dog to claim the blame at
he told her maybe its your mama fault, for givin you the shaker
somey-somey-somersault

[Chorus]
You put my feet back on the ground
Did you know you brought me around
You were sweet and you were sound
You saved me

Butterflies at the very mention
the flutter of her eyelashes helped to clear the tension
then went and tripped and fell head over heels
for V, and got dirtier than Red Rovers wheels
no matta how high stake the price,
this good luck charm on his arm, shake the dice
its gymnastics, practice makes nice
she’s not the type to be enticed by fake ice
ahh, the stench of first love
the quench of the thirst made it worst, you need a burst of
upper-thrust motion, trust, devotion
lust is like the sand where the beach meet the ocean
soaking, felt joy in her whirlwind
never ever did he mention boyfriend/girlfriend
demanded her respect
then ran and did a handspring, almost landed on her neck

[Chorus]
You put my feet back on the ground
Did you know you brought me around (Somersault)
You were sweet and you were sound
You saved me (Somersault)
All
All
You give love to all

Over this past winter break, I had access to a handy little site where I could find most anything I wanted. I was listening to “Who’s Gonna Save My Soul” off of Gnarls Barkley’s The Odd Couple, and I found myself marvelling at the genius of Danger Mouse. Not to gush or anything, but I often rave about his brilliance to supersede any defining genre and simply “make music.”

To make a long story short, I ended up downloading his whole discography [which by the way, was fragmented and took over 2.5 weeks to piece together the whole thing]. After listening extensively to all of his works, I took it into my own hands to mixtape what I considered to be one of the strongest compilations of DangerMouse’s genius. So without further ado, I present The Danger Mouse Mixtape:

The Danger Mouse Mixtape [Code Name: A-Bay Zag] (1:11:15):

1) Skit 1 – DangerDoom, Occult Hymn
2) Soul of a Man – Beck, Modern Guilt
3) It’s Not So Hard – Sparklehorse, Dreamt for Light Years in the Belly of a Mountain
4) Something To Say – Martina Topley-Bird, The Blue God
5) Green Fields – The Good, The Bad & The Queen, The Good, The Bad & The Queen
6) Public Service Announcement – Jay-Z, The Grey Album
7) Don’t Take My Sunshine Away – Sparklehorse, Dreamt for Light Years in the Belly of a Mountain
8) History Song – The Good, The Bad & The Queen, The Good, The Bad & The Queen
9) First Gear – The Rapture, Pieces of the People We Love
10) Who’s Gonna Save My Soul – Gnarls Barkley, The Odd Couple
11) Skit 2 – DangerDoom, Occult Hymn
12) Lies – The Black Keys, Attack & Release
13) White Light – Gorillaz, Demon Days
14) Orphans – Beck, Modern Guilt
15) Interlude – Jay-Z, The Grey Album
16) Baby Blue – Martina Topley-Bird, The Blue God
17) No Social – The Shortwave Set, Replica Sun Machine
18) The Sound – The Rapture, Pieces of the People We Love
19) November Has Come feat. MF DOOM – Gorillaz, Demon Days
20) Oceans & Streams – The Black Keys, Attack & Release
21) Would Be Killer – Gnarls Barkley, The Odd Couple
22) The Downer Song – The Shortwave Set, Replica Sun Machine
23) Bada Bing – DangerDoom, The Mouse & The Mask