Sept. 8, 2011

Today I'll Be A Millionaire

From Uhuru Pen by Prince Atum-Ra Uhuru Mutawakkil

Transcription

TODAY I'LL BE A MILLIONAIRE
From the Desk of Uhuru
5/21/2011
Time Commenced:
11:48 Completion

Awoke this morning. Today is a new day, today is a good day. Today is 992. I eat breakfast. Kiss Mama on the way out the door, perfecting our ritual and our daily refrain.

Today, Mama, I'm gonna be a millionaire.

Pushin' '72 Nova with recycled cregers on the boldening fat voils because the trues were stolen. Satellite system cost more than the whip, but I'm cruising and no chump will catch me slippin'.

Chicago broadcaster announced K-Wes will be in the house. I look at the digital radio clock and then at the 'lex on the wrist that Grandma gave me for Xmas. Lost and found, it's real and that's the only deal. I got an hour to get downtown. Maybe I can catch K-Wes coming or going. For today, Mama, I'm gonna be a millionaire.

I made it just in time to see him and his crew exit, walking towards the devil red Lexus. I go forward, I gotta go for it, rap or lie. Security close ranks, I hold my CD up like a white flag. Diamonds let them know I come in peace. So they remove their hands from their piece.

I hear him say, "Young blood ain't comin' to be a beast. Let the brotha spit his piece." I'm already in my zone when he said, "You have twenty steps to that car." I figure a bar each step. But at six, he stopped and started bobbing his head. Then he remote started his security jeep. More bounce was the track to be contributed. Before long, passerbys stopped and stared. Kanya stopped me sayin', "Man, you can't give this away for free."

So I asked him if he could feel it? Because I promised Mama today I'm gonna be a millionaire. He asked me to ride with them to his studio to see what else I got. He give orders and now I'm in the booth. Cued up, the engineer signaled my mic is hot. I give them my best because my best is what I got.

An hour late, I'm on the phone on my way home telling Mama we made it. I just signed with K-Wes, and he made us a four time millionaire. This was always our dream, a vision we shared. I had two checks cut. When she met me at the front door, I hand her the gift. Written across the box: "With love, Mama, you are a millionaire."

Today, we became a millionaire.

Ras Atum Ra Uhuru Mutawakkil
PO Box 9900-228971
Boscobel, WI 53805

----

"I KNOW YOUR FACE"
From the Desk of Uhuru
6/15/2011

From Akebulan to America, our blood soils the land and sea alike. A tragedy and betrayal of humility. A stolen and frozen, forgotten legacy. Help them to remember my name.

I know your face.

Enslavement of the flesh, mental extermination of all the rest. Now that the chains have been removed, the manacles of the mind we recycle like extreme conservations like a toddler who loses his shoes. Conservative habits. We know we should lose. Lord, help them remember my name.

I know your face.

They tell us we have gone from two N's to secular gods. Somewhere that godship turned into pimps, gangsters, and hustlers. And all the others, we will omit. Like we omit from our minds that these titles and deeds help feed our mutual adversary. Unsatisfied greed.

Help them know my name.

Poetic flows become poetic blogs. But poetic fools create poetic fogs. Becoming poetic hos for minute profits. Selling their souls as they distance themselves from the collective identity by becoming their own non-entity. Pushing and pandering atomic poetry as rap. Free radical in all form. Causing carcinogen ruptures in the hood and in the mind. Now you wonder why so many of our people are dying. Help them remember and know their name.

I know your face.

We have become lovers of vice. Disregarding and even preying upon all that's nice. Using our skills for sport and game. Asphyxiated like Semigel with his precious. With a Gollum. Ghetto disposition. We wonder why the hood is filled with so much hate. I know this all sounds like a pessimistic state, but what can I say when you have been imprisoned? Your duties, honor, and responsibility are off vacation. Fighting and demanding for what's right is not even in your personal rotation. Mother of all love, help them know and remember our name.

I know your face.

We all know it's not all bad. Of course, there is always good. But what good is good without equality and balance!

When what really is in the heart is nothing but concealed malice. Walking and speaking like an evil-alice living in a wasteland as your version of a wonderland.

But who created that world for you? That you feel compelled to play a sanctioned and unsanctioned role in.

So they can criminalize you as they socially disenfranchise you, ostracize you when they criticize you, when they lionize you and perhaps even amoralize you. And keep you fantasizing.

Just pause for one second and gaze in the mirror and educate the self. You will know my name.

I know your face. Because I know you. But you don't know me for you have distanced yourself from me. But you and I are one.

Remember and know my name.

For I've seen your face when I look in the mirror. Do you see mine too?

I know your face. Know and remember my name.

Ras Atum Ra Uhuru Mutawakkil
PO Box 9900-228971
Boscobel, WI 53805

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