I gotta get focused...I have much that I've set before myself, and haven't made any real head way in the matter. (sigh) Really have to get focused. I am at least making small steps, although turtelish they may be. I have finally begun the revamp process for leethepoet.com, which will pretty much shrink the site a great deal, but make it betterto look at. One would never guess that the same person designed thissite and illpoets.com. Oh, wrote a new joint the other day (Tuesday); I planned on spittin' it at Mango's but I forgot to print it up before I left work. It was basically inspired by an "incident" at work where a co-worker (and friend) asked me to perform "Wait Till Mornig" at a book discussion being held for black history month by one of the interest groups at my job. The interest book is an african-american interest group, and the book is entitled "Fear of a "Black" America". The young lady who asked me to perform my poem was cool with me, so I agreed. However, her co-chair within the interest group felt it may have been inappropriate for the event. Now, I wholly understand both sides f the argument, and I probably wouldn't have been folks favorite brother after that, but the truth IS THE TRUTH! Everything in that poem is factual...but some folks still don't like the truth being said to loudly, or self-assuredly, or firmly, etc. So, I wrote a piece called "Pardon the Interruption", a poem that attacks the frame of mind that we can only celebrate the parts of black history that all american's can approve of. Also makes arguments for and against Black History Month in its own way, and the negative ramifications. Dope piece. Hope to spit it really soon.
Which kinda begs the question, by the way: Where are we going? Do people, especially black people even care about black history anymore. Seriously. I feel that as a people, we are just sick and tired of being sick and tired. Think about how educated our parents generation is; my mom's has a PhD, as well as her sister. Their other sister has two master's degrees. My pops just got his third master's degree, and his brother is in the field of medicine. I know folks that were full-time sophomores and junior's when I was a freshman in college, and had the same status damn near when I graduated four years later. The value system isn't the same; our generation is spoiled and is slacking. Part of that can be put on the shoulders of our parents, because they got complacent after the civil rights era began to die down, figuring they had truly gotten what generations had fought and died for. And I'll be the one to make the unpopular statement, if our generation doesn't step up soon, we're heading back to the days of Jim Crow. Ya'll actin like it can't happen, but these youngyin's comin' up now are getting more and more out of control. Eventually, someone is going to try to make sanctions to handle things and lock folks down. Stop bullshittin' and raise your kids right!! Old school worked for centuries, stop trying to act brand new and play your position! Ya'll may discuss amongst yourselve or leave your comments below.
"Now is never the time to be apathetic or complacent"~ Lee (the Poet)

Okay, so let me tell you about the worst piece of film I’ve seen in the last five years or so. Now, I realize this was an Arabesque/ BET films production, but even that couldn’t have prepared me for the garbage I endured. Also, as a disclaimer, even when a movie is utterly horrid, as this film was, I still will often watch it all the way through. Part of me likes the punishment I guess, while the other part of me wants to find something redeeming about the movie. No such fortune with this piece of $#!+ movie, Midnight Blue.
Plot: The story is a romantic comedy that primarily focuses around two brothers with different perspectives on life, trying to save the family business, a national cosmetics enterprise on the brink of folding. The plot starts off with Tom, who is the “playboy”, who is trying to smash off this fine ass chick, Nicki. Eventually, Nicki winds up seeing the picture of Tom with his girlfriend (played by Angelle Brooks, who is fine and could get it. Shorty was phat as a mu’fu…whoo!) and leaves in an angry huff. As he gives chase, said girlfriend sees the aftermath and smacks ole boy in the face. As we go to the family business HQ, it turns out that Nicki is an accountant at the family business, and his girlfriend is a senior officer. Real smart beginning, huh? The other brother, Luke, naturally, is the older, smarter and more responsible of the two siblings, who wants to make sure this next product release is successful, as it’s the family businesses last chance to stay afloat. The family business has put their last resources into the marketing campaign for a men’s cologne called blue noir, which is supposed to drive women wild. The only problem is they need $500k for the campaign and only have $300k.
Apparently, there is also a jaded lover of brother ‘A’, who wants to make the brother suffer for betraying her love. They make it clear that this jilted lover has a lot of money as she sits on a houseboat with a punkl ass man-servant (who actually used to be in Robert Townsend’s Partner’s in Crime joints on HBO and Hollywood Shuffle). SO, said angry woman proceeds to set this younger brother up in a card game, where dudes LITERALLY handed cards across the table. Shade, this movie was not. Mind you, the dumb ass brother actually stole the money to bet in the card game from his family’s company in hopes of getting the family’s business out of dire straights. Of course he loses the money ($50k), and then forges his brothers name on promissory notes, unknowingly giving 40% of the company to angry ex-lover chick when he doesn’t have enough to pay off his debt. She then miraculously arranges for the father of the two boys, who is beginning to suffer from alzheimers or PTSD to meet up with this bad chocolate chick in the cemetery. Son macks this broad in the cemetery and winds up having her stay over for the night. She then proceeds to fuck the father to death, and calls right after to let ole girl know her mission was complete. I mean why not choke him, or poison his ass, that’s how you kill someone? Still there folks, wait a minute longer, it gets worse.
Eventually, the fake player brother breaks up with his girlfriend because she found some draws in his couch. Two days later, she winds up falling for the other brother. A little bit later, she follows a hunch and follows Nicki, who has been acting strange by shoving key financial documents In her purse and running off. Finally, she pursues Nicki to a pier and plays James Bond. Do you know this broad broke out some binoculars like she just walks around with them joints…what, this broad a bird watcher or something?! She then calls the older brother (on a phone that looked like a cordless phone, not a cell), as she walks on to a houseboat she don’t own looking for the fifty thousand her ex lost. Here’s where the dumb shit got outrageous!!! The older brother shows up in an attempts to help her find the briefcase, because if it’s money, then it has to be in a briefcase, right? Right. In their search, they turn up a list that cites fives steps to humiliating and destroying dudes brother, one of the steps being “kill his father”. They seem completely unfazed by this list and keep looking for the $50k. They wind up looking in the refrigerator, where the woman finds strawberries and cream and starts eating them. Dude gets turned on, and they bone in the crib! And then they stay the night! I mean they were using fruit and spilling champaigne n’shit…! Now I’m sorry, but if you are trying to rob somebody who robbed you, who has written evidence of murdering your father, the last thing you should do is fuck in their crib. Maybe fuck up their crib, but not in it!
At this point, I won’t even tell you the absurdity that was the ending, as you’ll have to see that for yourself. Now admittedly, there were a couple, and I mean it, two funny moments in the movie. On top of that, all the women, save for the angry jilted lover were fine as hell. However, I found it interesting that the two villains that were women were dark skinned, while the the rest of the women were more “fair- skinned”. Even the extras, like waitresses were bad in this joint, but they all seemed like the same type. Shorty that took out he father was diesel, though. She must have been a dancer because her legs were all like…pow, ping…and this was still a terrible movie.

PS- Here’s another unseen ditty from the files of Lee the Poet

Fear

Fear of letting you in
Fear of letting my emotions out
Fear of losing you
Fear of the pain that will ensue
Fear of the unknown
Fear of being alone
Fear of this house never being a home
This is what I wrestle with in my moments of silence
This what I wrap myself up in before I go to sleep
You wonder why I never need a blanket
It’s because the heat from this fear is oppressive
Disorderly compulsions obsessive
Fear of my own strengths
Because sticking to strengths is an indirect admission of having weaknesses
Fear of not being able to touch on my terms
Fear of what is or is not to come
An ill developed socially challenged child who managed to graduate
Diploma and degree in hand
“You can go play with the rest of the adults now, boy”
“Hey, tuck in that insecurity mister!”
“Where are you going with those phobias untied?”
“Were your fears like that before you played with them young man? How many times have I told you to put those fears back where you found them when you’re done?”
“For the last time, when you’re carrying your fears, you are not to run?”
When there’s fear
Don’t run
Don’t run
When there’s fear
I guess that’s why I’m here
Exposing these fears in invisible ink for everything I hold dear
Your smile
My mother
Her embrace
His wisdom
My sanity
Discarding vanity
Realizing the obvious that was there all along
One of the most courageous actions you can commit
Is to admit to yourself you’re afraid…
…and deal with it

This was on MSN.com; regarding bad Oscar nominations, which cited Halle Berry winning in Monster's Ball a bad call. I love me some Halle, truuuuust me, but I couldn't agree more.
Worst Picture
In 1989, Spike Lee made his masterpiece "Do the Right Thing," a volatile, edgy ensemble piece about deteriorating race relations in a Brooklyn neighborhood on the hottest day of the year. The film was a much-needed cinematic slap in the face: unblinking social commentary masked as entertainment. It was angry and funny and shocking, fueled by real humanity, yet never yielding to cheap sentimentality. Oh, yeah, and it wasn't even nominated by the Academy for Best Picture! Instead, films like the conformity-embracing "Dead Poets Society," the hyperbolic "Born on the Fourth of July," the schmaltzy "Field of Dreams," the biopic "My Left Foot" and, sigh, "Driving Miss Daisy" instead earned nominations. The same year that Spike Lee opened audience's eyes to the dangerously explosive nature of race relations in America, the Academy looked away, and instead retreated 30 or 40 years. They awarded "Driving Miss Daisy" the Best Picture trophy. That cozy, unthreatening exploration of a relationship between an aging Southern matriarch and her African-American driver was just the type of movie that critic David Thomson calls "feel-good liberalism" that the Academy eats up. It was nice and safe and told you exactly how to feel. The fact that Lee's film was snubbed when the nominations were announced was bad enough; that "Daisy" drove off with the Oscar for Best Picture just showed how out of touch the Academy was -- not only with cinema, but society. Oscar irony has never been more bitter.

***Warning: This entry uses metaphor and sound effects to denote certain graphic bodily functions, read at your own risk**
Ha, so let's skip past my nephew's basketball game and jump to where I had the chicken and garlic pizza at Uno's that was extra cheesey. Let's pause at the part where I thought to myself, "I'm going to pay for this later". Now, let's fast forward to when I have to drive up to Baltimore by 7:30 for a feature at Ad-Lib's spot, Porter's Coffee House. It's roughly 6:45 when I call Lynn asking where she and her homegirl Tinisha are (my bad for maiming your name boo, but I get mad phonic when I can't think of how to spell something). Lynn tells me she's right around the corner but she needs to stop @ the CVS.
Cool, I can double check and make sure my "system" is in order before I head downstairs. Okay, evrything is cool I guess. I go to warm up the truck. Lynn pulls up and says she wants to get her camera out of my crib. (sigh) I reluctantly go get it as it's almost 7 now, and I really don't feel like speeding. I go back inside and (psssssssssssssssttt)...whew, glad nobody is here to catch that, oh, wow, that's just awful. Camera. check. Let's go. Call Ad-Lib to let him know I'm enroute just after receiving calls from Mood and Takia back to back. I assure him cats are indeed on their way and will be arriving a different times and I'll be there as close to 7:30 as possible. Once I'm on 495, I see that traffic is rather thick.
BUBBLE (that would be my stomach folks).
settle
BUBBLE
settle
BUBBLEBUBBLE.
Okay, I get on the shoulder and let the ladies know we're making a slight detour here because I know there's a gas station just off of exit 15.
Pull up to the gas station and rush inside...toilet paper...check. Toilet, usable and in decent condition...check...soap...check. Okay, let's rock.
(Censored)
Wash hands and go back outside and linger, as this is a multi part ordeal. Ooops, run back....
(Censored)
Okay, I think I'm good. Let's go. 95 north and I'm moving when...BUBBLE...sigh. Okay, I'm going to exit 35A here because my sister used to live off this exit and I know there's a gas station off of it. Get to the gas station and the conditions are much better.
(Censored)
Ugh...I hope to God I don't have to see a roll of toilet paper again tonight.
Get to Porter's sometime after 9 and are greeted by the Dri Fish and Native Son shortly thereafter. Eventually, tummy stops quaking and I can enjoy the ambiance of said quain little spot. 13, Mood and myself killed it...royally. I didn't make any sales that night, but cats who actually stayed and heard us loved us. Left Porter's after 12 to head to my boy Jumand's crib to check him and my boy Julian out. Got back to my crib around three I think, maybe it was 2:30?
(sigh) No more Uno's for me, I'm good.
PS- The journal was supposed to auto post an entry that informed folks about the feature, although I believe I put it on the illpoets.com calendar. Since it didn't post by itself, here ya go:
Does any one find the term soft porn hysterically ironic, or is it just me?

Oh, if you're going to be in the baltimore area, check representatives from the illpoets.com collective this Saturday:

Porters Coffee House.
771 Washington Blvd. Baltimore, MD

Every 2nd Saturday of the month.......From 8-11 pm with
"State of the Art" hosted by Ad Lib.
Enjoy poetry, music and a buffet for $10 per person. The webpage is www.porterscoffeehouse.com for detailed directions.

PPS- Check this play out if you have the time, I've seen it 3 times already, Free Jujube Brown!

My weekend was cool. Saw hotel Rwanda, which was excellent. Would have enjoyed it more if I ain't have to go to Rivertowne movie theatre to see it. This African cat was having a conversation throughout the movie two rows behind me. Not simply talking...a conversation. Also, I wish I didn't know so much about the actual plot, as it took away the effect because I knew what to expect (that so rhymed). Saturday was GTA: San Andreas, evading high speed police chases, stuff like that. Went to cop some movies at Wal-MArt, which officially sucks to me because their entire music selection is edited...and limited. However, copped Catch Me if You Can, The Legend of Bagger Vance and Annie on DVD. For those who want to clown, I really wanted to hate Bagger Vance the first time I saw it, but was enamored with the poetry that was fused into the dialogue and cinematography. As for Annie, Carol Burnette did her thing in that movie, hate if you wanna. After Wal-Mart, dropped by my father's crib to check him, where I wound up seeing the whole clan from that household! Sisters with all five nieces and nephews, little cousin Toya, my brother and his girl and houseguest Jackie. Insanity at its finest. While we were all there, my father decided to hold a financial seminar which was hella cool. I, fortunately, was familiar with most of the stuff he mentioned; but folks need to do stuff like that more often for their children.
Also, God truly is good. Yeah, and I mean that, potna! Most of the times, when I drive, I'll do a little prayer before I set out on the road...not just for me, but all my loved ones as well. I believe that prayer has prevented loved ones from gaining even a scratch in recent accidents that have totalled automobiles. I believe that prayer protected myself and the lil' homie Lynn. Yeah, so last night, what you know about evading a high speed police chase in which the suspect is driving upwards of 80 mph on the wrong side of the road straight at you around a bend?! Yeah, could have been a lot different, but the kid was saved last night, y'know?
Prior to that (have to tell this story buddy, sorry), what you know about the last 55 seconds of the superbowl being erased by one of my friends (as we were behind the rest of the world and watching the game on TiVo)? Sheer comedy. Nobody was mad, but she took it really hard and swore cats were mad. I simply thought is was grounds for clowning for years to come. It's funny because I always joke with her that remote controls belong in a man's hands. Aside from that, American Dad was highly offensive and insensitive to many cultures and many people. So naturally, I thought the shit was hilarious. Don't think it will stay on as long as Family Guy, as it's definately more political, and we know what happens to political humor, right? That's right, the take it out of the newspaper and write nasty letters about it...the Boondocks is still that fire, though.

To the man that was bold enough to eulogize Malcolm
The solid fixture on the side of Ruby Dee
Proud and strong black man
Rest in peace

Wow. That's big, man. Ossie has been doin' the damn thing forever, man. It always made feel warm inside to see them (Osside & Ruby) looking so strong together. I'm speechless...
Ossie's Bio

I know I may be a little late to the party, but, John Mayor's Cd rocks! Anywho, just dropping a kind of semi-sweet line...seeing what's up with ya'll, although I don't know how many of "ya'll" are left. Regardless, here's another joint I actually did once because I liked it, but wasn't sure if I felt it. On top of that, I didn't want people thinking I regarded mysel as God, which was not the intent of he poem. But then, I hope that would go without saying. (sigh) The life of a poet.

This Ain’t Me

This ain’t me
Could have sworn I’d be well on my way to millionaire status by the age of twenty- three
This ain’t me
I’m not in the space I thought I’d be
Government’s talkin’ ‘bout fighting a war on two fronts overseas
This ain’t me
This ain’t me
I’m a corporate clone
A 9- 5 drone
GetUpandGotoWorkandThenit’sBackHome
This ain’t me
Living in his Mom’s basement
It can’t be
The real Lee remains faceless
My intention
Is to fall asleep and wake up in my dimension
Where G’Dubya and his henchmen can’t affect my ascension
This ain’t me
This is not 2 double “O” 3
Must be mixed up in the matrix tryin’ to get free
Life’s a big bitch
I’m just tryin’ to flea
Bite her ass back until I find me
Kindly remove the cranial IV
You can’t undo the things my mind’s eye sees
I bleed H2O mixed in with nitroglycerin
If agitated it becomes an explosive concoction
This ain’t me
Unless I’m on stage rockin’
With my eyes closed tryin’ to change that I’m a prophet
Come on stop it
There’s no profit
Writer’s Block is my dam for all the flows that’s allotted
Eye Conscious
I stressed
Eyes haunted
Seen the ingredients for the Apocalypse, here are the contents:
Religious discourse
Causes confusion for wars
All because of when and how you pray to The Lord
Add one Bush, One Colon, One Dick
Osama Bin Laden on some Twin Towers shit
Who sane?
It ain’t Sadaam
Tryin’ to fuck him when North Korea’s got bombs
Subtract Homeland Security from all privacy rights
Divided by your social status in life
Race, religion, money, gender, and who you bone
Are all documented on your home and cell phones
This ain’t me
This is God
Not Lee
Indirect reflection of me
A carbon copy
Heed the scriptures, heed the warnings, heed the signs
Heed: The Most High returns
Prepare your hearts and your minds
I gave you signs and ya’ll did not listen
None of these signs involved Mel Gibson
Put ‘em on the news you did not pay attention
So now it’s high time for divine intervention
Babylon has come in the most wicked ways
Perverted my words and triggered the last days
All who follow my teachings shall not be afraid
Heaven soon come to destroy what’s man made
Fear not Bush because he is not God
Don’t listen to Sadaam
He is not God
None of you should fear this man- made war
Be more concerned with the Lord’s sword at your door
This is not me
And this not you
This was merely a test to see which path you’d choose
They each claim God but they all gon’ lose
I know all my children, do not be fooled
Cause none of them work for me
No
None of them work for Lee
No
And none of them work for you
No
So here’s what you’ve got to do:
Pray