this isn’t about “art”. at all.

it’s about justice. if you watch horrible things happen — that you can prevent — and make “art” off them? for money, at that.

you have a serious problem. that needs to be addressed.

you don’t use and abuse people for your “art”. and if you do? you need to pay for it. restorative justice.

this ain’t no poem. or film. or rap. these are facts.

human life, happiness , the health of this planet — come way before art does. to me. i was raised with integrity. i have a moral compass. i don’t give a fuck about your “art”. lol i give a fuck about you getting a damn job. your days of making money off your “social justice art”, while people suffer?

are coming to a close. lazy ass hoes!!

this was taught to me — by an artist. who values life, over death and destruction. his name is not, amiri baraka. a very sick and twisted — hoe moment man, who i never respected with his black vs. white self hatred — that man’s dick was everywhere.

he had no respect for human life. he cared not about the pain he caused many. a super narcissicistic piece of shit. who cared more about his 1/2 assed poetry than humanity.

to compare that man to malcolm x? is disgusting. to memorialize that man in the museum of african american history without talking about all his abuse? horrendous.

this goes for any person, of any color, who abuses others and don’t get called out.

that hoe moment poet was nothing like malcolm x. who knew damn well, skin color means absolutely — zero. zilch. and i hope people tag all over his face on that mural in newark. throw up a picture of his son. who is a man with integrity. who loves his community. and works collecticvely, to address pain and inequity.

what type of human being you are? what is your character? that’s all that matters.

and a shitload of people now know?

that poet was a huge problem, for black people. you couldn’t be no mixed kid, reading his ass in a shitload of diversity in high school and not think — something is wrong with this man. a kid who comes from love, not hate, you couldn’t take anything of what that man said seriously — about race.

what did ya’ll miss? the man actually wrote — that he hated himself. lol!

that word was forbidden in my house. i don’t hate anything.

but i’m glad he’s dead. he needed to be put in check. along with his crew of hoe moment disciples. all trash.

his son knew not to bring me around him. i woulda smacked the shit out that dude lol. pure filth. and no. i wasn’t the one clamoring to shake that man’s hand. while he sat oggling women’s fat asses at a poetry retreat. along with his rapist friend. who women were brave enough to stand up, and speak out against. i see no difference between amiri baraka and donald trump. one white, one black. both shit. the only difference is? donald trump is still living. he has a chance to correct his actions. and crimes against humanity. period.

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