Monday, November 25, 2013

Thanks Be To God

Hotep,

This post is all about the ‘feel good effect’ when the world expects you not to feel good at all.  This post was inspired by my Aunt Nettie.  A simple gesture can produce something great within a Mann that isn’t expected to feel good about who he is.  I love you madly Aunt Nettie.  This is for you.

I recently came across an inspiring story about a woman refusing to give up on life.  Ms. Lu Ann Cahn is a blogger and author of the book “I Dare Me:  How I Rebooted and Recharged My Life.” Talking about living testimonies, this lady doesn’t allow one day to be left behind as insignificant.

At 33, doctors removed Lu Ann’s large intestine, due to ulcerative colitis.  Two years later, she beat breast cancer – undergoing a mastectomy.  Her 1992 report, “Breast Cancer: My Personal Story,” won an Emmy.  You’d think that would conclude her story of tragedy to triumph, right?

Well, at 45, doctors discovered Lu Ann had kidney cancer.  Real talk.  A kidney and a rib were removed as a result.  She recovered from all of this, but still fell into an emotional slump in 2009.  She dug herself out of this emotional pit known as grief and defeatism, by seeking new adventures and blogging about them.

Lu Ann stepped out of her comfort zone and partook in a polar bear plunge.  As if the icy temperature of the water weren’t enough to blog about, Lu Ann entered a skating audition for the “Philly Roller Girls.” Then, after a major snowstorm, she took to sliding down the stairs of the Philadelphia Museum of Art.  That’s right!  Those same stairs that made Rocky Balboa the people’s champ, Read about it (One Year of Firsts.com).

I’m all too familiar with the knack that strong women have for inspiring.  It’s second nature to them.  I’ll give you a prime example:  My Aunt Nettie is the youngest of my Mom’s 5 sisters.  The loss of my Nana has been an emotional anvil for her to bear.  Feel me?

Most recently, my Aunt Nettie sent me some pics of a young MannofStat in the company of my Nana.  As you can see in this particular pic, strong women have always been the bookends to my physical existence.  My beloved Nana on my right (your left) and my beautiful Moms to my left. 

This pic was taken so long ago, but I remember everything about it as if it were taken yesterday.  We had just returned from Pearson’s Sporting Goods, when my next door neighbor, Mr. Vince captured this moment worth cherishing.

I was 12 years old – weighing in at a generous 91 pounds.  My Moms was totally against to idea of me playing organized football (125 lbs and under).  I have every reason to believe my Nana accompanying us on a quest for a football mouthpiece, was a display of support for her grandson’s desire to suit up and compete.  Na mean?

Not only did I obtain the necessary apparatus to prevent me from a broken jaw, but more importantly I shared some quality time with two of the strongest branches, of my family tree.  These ladies are the reason my heart pounds for a woman that exhibits strength when she’s expected to wither in the coldest moments of life’s setbacks.

These ladies will forever be remembered for their moxy and crisis management at a time when a young MannofStat was oblivious to the crisis at hand.  Word is bond!  I’m thankful for their strength and guidance.  The inheritance of their “Go-Getter” spirit dwells throughout my being.  I’m ever so thankful for that.

And I’m especially thankful for my Aunt Nettie digging through the pitfalls of her own grief – only to emerge with memories inspiring to her nephew.  Asante Aunt Nettie!  Nana’s fighting spirit has somehow found a way to flourish through our responses to the trials and tribulations of today.  I’m consumed by the “feel good effects.” I hope you are too.  Thanks be to God!  And Happy Thanksgiving

Much Love,

MannofStat
Copyright © 2013 by Leroy Elwood Mann


Sunday, November 17, 2013

Pace of Passion



Internal bells ringing because my bosom beats at a rapid pace
Leaving a trace,
Of an expressionism of passion,
In the fashion of pseudonyms, verbs, and prepositions;
The structure of a soul’s unmasking
A literary Viagra that keeps my ink stuck on stiff
It’s a gift, not a wish.
Like an Orca swimming amongst humans,
Not a pond loaded with fish.

My ink exudes calamity, but calamity is my calm.
Views from the news only proves to be lewd,
Then blank pages transcend, and the art is the emotion exiting my palm.
Seeing a future beyond these walls,
Escaping the demographics of Unit 3’s halls.
Seeing the cries coming from eyes,
That tells subtle lies to surmise,

The pain that comes with being left behind.
My many hours spent within soft time,
Leads to phonetic dances within my mind
Because these expressions are mine,
Until your ears come near to hear the explosion of a poetic landmine

The drug of choice?
The chronic ink rolled within the bluntness of my voice
Going toe-to-toe with the state,
Making way for historical debate.
Literary pugilism; my championship bout highlighting an inevitable fate,
Failure seems to be the fog through which we glimpse triumph.
The trademark of triumph is an essence of tranquility that traces the grooves of realness

So feel this:
Drastic cases in foreign places,
Relates well with my demographic like the holes in kicks awaiting the laces.
How in the world could I not write this?
Why on earth would I keep this to myself?
This pace of my passion is not a question to be asking.
Does he mean this?  Does he mean that?
Is he talking to just me, or maybe a select few?
This penmanship of struggle can’t be called work.
It’s simply what I was born to do.

Always 100,

MannofStat
Copyright © 2013 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Sunday, November 10, 2013

Brimstone Tone


Potholes in my lawn won’t impede my progress going through the yard.

At times, walking through your past is essential to understanding where you presently stand.
But backpedaling through life, eluding what may appear to be a dim future, isn’t the walk of this Mann

Always on the defensive, anticipating the next man’s attempt to violate,
Sun up, to sun down, surprise is the element that hones this mysterious trait.

Mindless chatter applied to simple-minded acts,
Mix it like batter and what will you extract?

Simple Simon the Pieman!  Go bake a cake clown!

My frown is renown as the expression of life’s hard lesson.
Catastrophic situations rarely lead to standing ovations.

Rejected mail, cancelled visits, chow hall cacophony,
Is all a reality of the commonality behind a number that once bore the characteristics of humanity.

Casual thinking? No time for that!
A gentlemen of leisure?  Where’s he at?

Living in this box is my personal Hell on earth.
A lifetime within this existence doesn’t make this world my turf.

The softness of Mom’s voice being muffled by a mesh,
My lady’s beautiful brown eyes clouded by stains on the plexiglass.

It’s gotta be a test,
     Cause I can attest,
          To not always being at my best,
And still remain at the top of my game as the fire within proceeds to manifest.

My footing holds firm within this box of stone.
I stand alone repelling the state’s drones,

With a chiseled mind, spiritual outlook and this distinctive Brimstone tone.

Always 100,

MannofStat
Copyright © 2013 by Leroy Elwood Mann