The Global Indigenous Muurs

DISCLAIMER: This video is not implying or suggesting that slavery never happened or the people mistakenly known as “African American” descend from the islands presented in the video. This video is not intended to cause hate or hard feelings between “Black” Americans and Central/West Africans. It’s intended to show the other side of the world most Black Americans would never research because they were taught they came from Central & W.Africa. The VAST majority of the people mistakenly known as African American did NOT come from Africa, and were living here in the Western Hemisphere (Turtle island) before anyone else. If you’re still in doubt watch Pt.2. & Pt.3. People who say “Black Americans don’t look African because they’re mixed.” Okay well I found pictures of NON-mixed people, so what’s the excuse now? read more

The Smallest Most Inconsequential Thing – A poem by Ras Ahmeer Levy

“The Smallest most inconsequential thing”

The smallest most inconsequential thing
Easily overlooked, blown about by the ferocious and careless wind
Can you imagine nothingness?
So often cast aside as……
The smallest most inconsequential thing
Lost to the eye of the lofty and high browed
Neglected and left to fend for its self, to weather the storm
Swept aside as so much dust at the entrance to the tabernacle
The smallest most inconsequential thing
In the darkest repose, in the dankest of corners where light cannot reach forgotten and cold
The smallest most inconsequential thing
The loneliness, the emptiness, the silence, the blackness, the void
Hidden from the wise and prudent that daily sweep the dust from entrance to the tabernacle, proud of their works and their washed hands
Hidden from hateful eyes and dulled ears, marred by pride and shame, unable to see the beauty in the jewels of the sky nor hear the exclamations of babes and those suckling’s whose words and meditations are an offense to the ears and a rebuke in the mouth of the old and regretful
That smallest most inconsequential thing
A speck, a concealed within the womb of eternity, feeding from the hidden stream, groping in the blackest black
Growing nurtured by the everlasting completeness of the dark, lulled to sleep by the lapping waves, the run and return of that primordial sea
The fullness
The Joy
The spark
The breath
That smallest most inconsequential thing
Now exposed, naked, something from nothing, singing the beautiful song of creation, bursting forth into being
A light emanating from the darkness, a light returning to light
A candle perfect and upright whose flame flickers not in the torrents of the storm
A tree planted standing firm whose roots feed from the everlasting rivers of waters, standing as a sign an eternal impression for those who have eyes to see and ears to hear
Love loves even the smallest and most inconsequential of things. Was not the tree of life once a small and inconsequential seed churned in the dust of the earth? read more