I wanted to share with you all what I delievered for this years Poetry contest for the Red Clay Review:

I hope you enjoy my views on Music and what we here in the mountains think about.

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The Gift

I classify it a gift to have an entire symphony,

Escalating in your head.

Those that disagree use the same psychology,

To critic any mode of the theater.

Charisma has an eclectic tone all its own.

Allowing me to utter in perfect English,

What many miss hidden beneath the undertones

Of lyricists.

Perk of an ear, I can hear,

what many seek to synchronize behind allegories of spoken word therapy, dub-step, Japan-pop, jazz, scream’O, emo,

Without taking a breath or allowing my ears to eat grass, the mesh of acid rock

Blue grass blues may confuse you;

Thankfully I can soothe you,

For without missing a beat,

Nor to  be motivated by the articulated innuendoes,

I can share the story of

How music died and along with her originality.

We all can agree they were wed,

Beautiful brides and groom to be.

At her tomb stood children whom, all had the same sound,

Many little souls,

Asking for validation from generations,

Seemingly singing from the same throat,

Songs on different tempos,

Men of flesh and bone,

Woman with her empathetic touch,

Each allowing talent to gather rust.

Mountain Radio

I speak in melodies of the morning,

 Supposing the rays of the sun ignore thee.

I creak the floor boards of your warming,

 Abode, tempted, as a harp to charm through.

I leaked, as it where, while exploring,

  Any sense of the night, from cornering,

  Hoping to release you from yesterday’s tune.

I breeched, more determined, by the boiling,

  Convinced you’d succumb, to the mantras of some,

  Who’ve lived lives based on ideologies of one.

I beseech, my children, who find it most boring,

  Sing in hopes of encouraging,

   Aspiring your fellow man to think of what he can,

  These sounds will be the only one’s worth employing.

I teach, the stranded in seas beyond his landing,

  Of worlds in remiss, of hopes and bliss, refusing to entertain,

   Rebellious mouths whom profane,

   A pass time worth not spoiling.

I resend, nothing, for assure am I a harp-man,

Both of sea and land, sounding trumpets of Christendom, very little joy can be found,

From the separated secular radiomen, each cascading radium.

Wind Instruments

Seeking for a long time, how to express my unrest.

Speaking for a long time, while pumping my chest.

Rhythms building from a fire,

Tempos determined to carry us higher.

Harps carried in our pockets to keep us quiet.

Wind instruments used as pacifiers.

After the radio molests the ears,

There is a place in the woods,

The hills of Carolina,

where you can hear all day,

sounds we’ve almost allowed to only be found,

When we place our ears

To the ground.

THey wanted my real name and address, yall don't get that, but the poems are nice.

  Word Count: 411

Listed  are three segments of prose for the 2018 submissions of the Red Clay Review. The genre of discussion was Music; so excited was I about the event that I did not believe a moment was too soon to share with you the joys that found in the Hills of Carolina regarding such a beloved theme. Win, loose, or draw; I do hope they bring you as much joy to you, as they did for the one that wrote them. They are entitled as follows: The Gift, Mountain Radio, and lastly Wind Instruments.

  Each were designed to tell the story of how a man of the hills feels about the world he has to hear in song through our contemporary radio, and just how different it is compared to what he makes for himself with his harp in hand.

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They told me to only send between 1500 words and 80 lines for poetry. I was mad cause 80 lines is like 250 and that is what I produced without really thinking 411 words that told a whole story in two minutes. They wanted 80 lines, so I sighed heavy and just called it Prose. LOL But really it is seperated by three segments of poetry. It is just too much to ask me to cut things down and splice words when everything is in the punch lines.

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I did edit a lot of the work though. You all have the unedited version. If  I could have sent them all of it I would have but I  want to win this poetry contest so I try to follow the rules.

I read some of the stuff from last year and was like, they are taking anything, let me give them my best.

Fingers crossed.

Ok so here is where you have to go to tag in for this poetry submission:

The Red Clay Review is accepting submissions for its 2018 music-themed edition. Contributors can submit prose up to 1500 words, up to three poems of up to 80 lines each (I already blew that out of the water, most of my stuff was 300 lines plus so I have to down size some work) ((I might give yall the unedited versions just for fun. ))

  and or up to three original images. Poetry and prose must be sent as.doc,.docx, or .rtf file attachements; images must be high res files. adress is rcr@cccc.edu include writers name, mailing address, phone number, and word count. Entries must be recieved by May 10,2018. Contact Summerlin Webb at 919.718.7270

There is a poetry and prose contest in my area and the deadline is May 28.

The organizers want written compositions on a theme dedicated to MUSIC. I thought it was pretty interesting and right up ally.

They want three compositions, no more than 1500 words and it all has be digitally sent to there online database. If anyone is interested PM and I will send the information to you as to how you enter the contest.

  I think the more the merrier when it comes to things like this. I read a few from last year that they published in the RED CLAY REVIEW magazine and thought they did wonderfully.

Made me excited about entering something in this year.

 Our affilates and marketers: those that assist in getting the word out about our art and keeping up with pop culture and it's relation with the world were verbally abused today.

 Normally we like to hold onto the notion that any publicity is good publicity. Today we will have to say, Foul language is never necessary.

THIS IS WHAT START THE VERBAL ASSAULT: We are sorry if you are further offended.

 NowThis‏: publicized Eminem as he went after the NRA in this powerful performance from the iHeartRadio Music Awards. An interesting question was poised by an anthologist known as Advent Voice who is assisted by numerous broadcasters in getting his art out to the public. He asked in light of his observations over the years. " What do you do with people that refuse to see obvious political propaganda, especially when it is displayed in our Pop Culture? Doesn't the artist begin to feel they are being ignored or unappreciated?" When he saw the show of rappers using the voices of today's youth to help bolster a very serious argument, which has been ongoing for a long time now, "Freedom of Speech and 2nd Amendment rights," he and so many others must ask, "Who's side are these American performers on, why are they not educating the public on the real problems if they have chosen to speak, why do they continue to dance under cryptic lines and use inclusive language such as, "THE NRA is Standing In OUR way."?? Who is Our? Who is he speaking for, certainly not himself who is the promoter of the movie 8 mile which is supposed to be the story of his life and those he knew growing up, whom never understood real gang violence but set out to promote it, if not encourage it. Of course you can not phase Mr. Shady he is whatever you say he is, if he wasn't then he would have told you of some other way to incorporate him in the limelight of the world. Right now he poses as the mentor of our youth. Very interesting. And they have the nerve to say music has nothing to do with how people feel about politics. It's just a mode of expression. I agree in freely expressing ourselves but where do we get off claiming one organization cares more about hunks of metal verses the lives of their children. It is in the protecting of these rights that our politicians feel they are doing their part, I wonder besides polling strife, what has Mr. Shady done for the positions of his 1st and 2nd Amendment rights?

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We were called all sorts of names and the art was ridiculed because we decided to ask a question. Instead of feeding into the bait of being called an *asshat* we rebutted with this latest post on ethics:

The internet has become a volatile place. If you support an opinion different from the mainstream thought you will be tagged as a "backward thinker," retarded and targeted by mean spirited people who when confused or frustrated or have no answer for a question will become violent in nature and speak horribly to you. I happen to like the responses of people that disagree with me. I don't claim to be right about a thing. I just like to talk and think. What I don't like is when someone calls me an asshat on Twitter because I or my affiliates asked a question? "Who's side are these American performers on, why are they not educating the public on the real problems if they have chosen to speak, why do they continue to dance under cryptic lines and use inclusive language such as, "THE NRA is Standing In OUR way."?? Who is Our? Who is he speaking for?" We feel anyone that is willing to ask for spare change from the government (SpangeDGov) every chance they get should only speak on the viability of the amount of pot they smoke and have to sell to make ends-meat. @Scope2Mars was verbally attacked today for saying (this) in response to our previous posts: Leave it to a supporter of marijuana & #TheSimpsons to disagree with me. (Me was in reference to everything associated with avproductionsblog.wordpress.com and this reddit forum) Anyone with a college degree in anything outside of #Memes please feel free to respond. Do not feel discouraged by anyone who has already apologized for the mental illness they carry & use to #SpangeDGov. It should be understood that because we value the rights of free speech and desire to express how we see things in the world, that respect is in order when discussions are to be had on topics that bring up controversy, not to go around calling people, asshats. It is language like this that gets you "Fired," from work or "Blocked* on Twitter. Because the world is changing and we the consumer is making a mass majority of what is seen and desired on the internet, there really needs to be a discussion as to what is to be excepted and what is not. If we don't want to talk about it. The least we can do is take proper steps in safe guarding our own presence on the internet and make sure we are doing our best to keep open minds and forums free for those that desire to simply ask a question.

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OUR ART WAS SMEARED AS PORNOGRAPHIC AND UNPLEASENT SO WE BLOCKED THE VIEWER LEST HE/SHE IS FURTHER OFFENDED & WE HAVE SET OUT TO APPOLOGIZE IF WHAT WE CALL ART HAS OFFENDED ANYONE.

 There is a little piece of us that is happy with the outcome. Our art is doing more than we ever dreamed.

It is making people think.

This guy says some of the funniest things.

A lot of the time it is true. A lot of the time it is cruel. I like to think his point of view will change lives.

https://www.reddit.com/user/LaughingMANB/comments/83w68h/plebian_messages/?ref=share&ref_source=link

It's Lit is an online platform of a magazine that asks people send in Short Stories written by black authors for them to review and apparently they pay commissions for the best short story. https://www.theroot.com/bloody-mae-1823500565 <<< That is the link>>> My only hang up was the fact that if you not on Google+ then you will not be seen,

  Which means they miss out on stories like this one:

  Serial Lovers:

The years fly by when we are made to count them by the number of lovers.

This is the thought process behind my generation. The institution of marriage, commitment to one, until we both meet on the other side; is an ideal that has faded in time.

 We have no regrets. No heritage either. Destined to wander from lover to lover, seeking validation until the other transpires. The lot of immortals; especially when we count the years by the number of lovers.

 There was one family, that lived on a hill, far from the cares of the world. Separated by two highways, that connected two towns. A home for every member of the family. A place for every lover. A secret place that you'd never find. Would certainly miss, if your not looking for it.

  He certainly wasn't.

When he met her, she was married. To keep with customs, he waited until death separated her from the vows, which kept her lips and hips from his. Sure she had daughters, five to be precise. To be committed to her was the prize; especially when you are made to count the years by lovers.

 From a distance he cherished her. Made himself indispensable, just to be near her.

The five beauties were all perturbed; professing disgruntled annoyance that she should have so young a servant. "Shouldn't he marry? Why is he always at her side? Even after Papa died, in her dry spell, heart attacks and days of mourning, he remained?"

  He has children. Two out of wedlock, so he no longer trusts women. He was never honest about how many he conquered. Forever counting the days by the number of lovers, can be a strain on a man.

We watched him from a distance. See him in the hills there, arguing with GOD over all he has seen, heard, lost. Demanding answers for what are impossibilities.

Some presume he counts the number of days by the number of women, because a siren of a lass bit him. Passed syphilis and it touched his brain.

  Why else would he fly into rages when discussions turn toward the decriminalization and persisted legalization of prostitution, marijuana, and the coddling of heroin users. The castration of innocent men, and the sterilization of young women. Vaccinations that destroy our children's brains and the continued funding of vaccine research instead of the support needed to affirm natural detoxing exercises.

To fund the detox of sin is a dream he professes as he continues to count the days by the number of lovers.

 Everyone used to lover to hear him orate.

Every lover, listened to his wisdom, amidst the nights of drunken stupor. Each loved the heart of the man, even if there was no room solely for them in it. Second to Jesus was fine; not to the whole world. What woman do you know of virgin thought would tolerate a man who's calendar is filled with dedications to the numbers of which he loved?

  Of the five daughters only the widow loved him best. Some would suggest in her years of pious declarations this was nothing new. To love has the same flavors of the first. Eighty-four to his fifty years younger of date; she kept up with him as she counted the days according to their play dates. She will leave him nothing. But that is not why he loves her.

  The curse of his immortality, rests on the charge of his soul; To conquer each woman till your no more; counting the days by the number of lovers.

The curse of the Serial Lover.

 https://www.reddit.com/user/LaughingMANB/comments/83ghnw/head_hunters/

The above aritcle was written in response to this past Women's movement. I have a few art pieces that I feel give the proper illustration to the thought process that goes into the writing. Part of the joy of being an anthologist, Finding ways to illustrate the things we say.

  Maybe some of you can answer the many questions of morality poised in the article.

Open-ended questions Rock.

 unapologetic nature.

I live my life like there is no tomarrow becaue it really is not promised to you.

The sun comes up everyday for those with a routine life, and a 9-5 job.

The traveler, like myself. well we just don't know.

So every time I speak I seek to leave you with something so it can never be said I just wasted you time. Nor could it be said I never finished a story or did not finish my story. My race. The course. The reason for being around. I am really never satisfied with much because I want so much.

Anyway. If you never heard from me again I hope this newest article says enough to keep you for years to come.

https://avproductionsblog.wordpress.com/2018/03/07/living-life-like-no-tomorrow/

It started over a cup of coffee.

It always does.

I walk into the resturant and I pay for everything. (I am  the man; It is the American custom).

The lady already pissed me off, because I said I was paying for the meal and I don't want a water. Water for everyone else, but this guy. She the had the nerve to ask was I eatting. So apperantly if you don't order a glass of water you are not eatting.

The money is secured and the arguement is over. So I thought.

She comes back and asks if we all want drinks or can be helped with anything.

I said I wanted coffee..Make it two coffees for me and the young woman.

Two cofees turn into one cofee.

It was like magic, I could not explain. To appease me my guest gives me her coffee. I tell her, to give me a minute and surely the waitress will come back and this can be fixed. The girl tells me to leave it alone. (Now I am pissed)

I drink the cofee, deep in thought. Am I a five year old to be treated like a child, when all I asked for was coffee. I am here with someone, so would it not be assumed that I desired two coffee's; "Why do I only have one?"

Leave it alone, I am asked. As if I am the one with the problem.

I am the one drinking coffee, I could leave it alone, but I asked for two.

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The woman comes back and asks about her coffee.

Not to me, she told me to leave it alone and so I did. (The waitress brings the coffee.)

Deep in thought I contemplate how a man can be ignored in this day and age over a cup of coffee. I am not supposed to be in a rage. She, the waitress, certinaly is not to be tipped; especially when she forgot my coffee, but I am considered the unforgiving one; the angry bastard, because I reminded her of her problem in forgetting my coffee, and I was not tipping her. (I worked like a dog in resturants and everyone got coffee when they asked, that is service. When I mean everyone I mean the racists pricks that would not tipp me cause I am black, got coffee and I never spit in it. I am kind to this one, this crazy child that ignored me and I am called all sorts of names because I would not tipp.

There is a double standard here that pisses me off and it should not cause it is about COFFEE.

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Remember my friend asked me to leave it alone. So I did. Why did I listen to her.

On the drive home she called me less than a man, because I left my outrage alone. This is what she said.

" I did not notice that you were missing your coffee, I was picking up my food when you ordered, I was not around. (This is a lie, cause remember I ordered two coffee's, who was i ordering them for the air.) (SHE CONTINUES THE LIE AND OBLIVIOUSNESS THAT SETS ME OFF). I did not know she was treating you so bad. When I asked for something she got it for me, so you should tipp her."

(WE WERE SITTING AT THE SAME TABLE>>>>I WAS DRINKING YOUR COFFEE>>>BECAUSE YOU TOLD ME TO LEAVE HER ALONE!!! YOU ORDERED ANOTHER CUP FOR YOURSLEF BECUASE SHE IGNORED MY ORDERS< I AM NOT TIPPING HER)

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Jesus said to love those that persecute you.

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IT IS COFFEE!! WHY SHOULD I FEEL PERSECUTED OVER COFFEE!! (JESUS ALSO SAID BE ANGRY AND SIN NOT) (HE SAID WHEN THEY HIT YOU TURN THE OTHER CHEECK)

DIDN"T YOU JUST SAY YOU LOST RESPECT FOR ME BECAUSE IN MY SILENCE I CHOSE TO TURN THE OTHER CHEECK AND LET THE WAITRESS FORGET MY COFFEE!! YOU RESPECT JESUS AND HIS ABILITY TO FORGIVE THE UNFORGIVABLE BUT WHEN I DON"T THROW THAT BIMBO OF A WAITRESS ON HER BUMM FOR FORGETTING MY COFFEE AND NOT LISTENING TO ME WHEN I ORDERED TWO OF THEM I AM ONE TO HAVE LOST RESPECT IN YOUR EYES;

JESUE ALSO COULD NOT STAND A HYPOCRIT!

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I tell you not to tipp her, not because I wanted coffee so much, but because she blatenly ignored me and did nothing in my mind to deserve kindness, not when I have to chase her down for coffee...and you have to call her name as if she is so important. You say she needed Jesus and is a Sinner and no matter what I should be kind to her. Which I agree with you, and I am kind by not doing what really comes to mind when someone treats me as second rate and I never said a mean thing to them.

It is not hard to be a Christian, it is hard to deal with people that will allow hypocrisy to go unspoken of or corrected in the name of peace, or misunderstanding. Or the temptation of satan and my past making me border line bipolar. To belittle any confrontation as unseemly and undignified if one uses there fists or show contempt for the actions of others. The woman that shared a table with me tipped the young waitress and encouraged her behaivior and passed the blame onto me because I did not tell her what both of us saw. The woman claims she did not see the disrespect of the lack of coffee on my table; It was merely coffee, easily forgotten; As forgotten as the one who spoke to her about a Jesus that allows the denizens of this world to do as the wish with no real world consequence.

Remember Jesus forgives all and I should too.

Who cares about the coffee right...it is just good stuff.

Dear Voice of the Martyrs,                                                                                                           3/1/2018

  Last year or two, I wrote to you about the imprisonment of men and women in America; who are being kept in similar conditions that your founder WurmBrand had to contend with in Romania in 1945.

  Your response was that due to all of your work in NK, speaking to me about solutions or missions here in America would not be possible.

  As the years mount and I study and learn that the institution, G.E.O; which has become a bane to my existence and that of 237,000 other people; of this country and have been active since 1984; (I find this date fascinating because it coincides with that of the NK DPK and their labor camp development.)  According to your records and eye witness accounts, we should not be surprised to the behavior of those from Communist countries; The question remains, “How surprising is it when we hear of similar methods of punishment are pressured upon Americans in their own country?”

  “What happens when American citizens climb Capitol Hill just like Richard and Sabrina, crowd into the galleries and the great halls floor were four thousand religious leaders are found believing, “The state could count on the church if the church counts on state; Communism and Christianity are fundamentally the same, and certainly can coexist?”

  We as Americans, freedom loving people, want to believe the Cold War is over; that the fighting will end when we stop fighting; but the inner core of me suggests we’ve not even begun. Especially when Private Prison Corporations can get away with structural genocide that has occurred in this country for so long and no one questions it.

  I am inclined to quote Sabrina every time I get a chance in regard to the standard of righteousness that is supposed to be upheld by the institutions that fuel our economy, “I don’t want cowards, around me.”

 If you were to compile every report found @ www.avproductionsblog.wordpress.com in regard to G.E.O and Private Prisons here in America~ “Do you really not believe that there is no room for discussion on the purging of these institutions?”

Using Jailed Migrants as a Pool of Cheap Labor https://nyti.ms/2lv8xxo  lets compare notes: https://adventgradepress.com/2016/09/2014/#more-263 … When we are made to look at a map like that we can't help but ask who in congress can be trusted? 

 https://www.nytimes.com/2014/05/25/us/using-jailed-migrants-as-a-pool-of-cheap-labor.html?smid=tw-share

Sound the resistance for the men and women that have no voice! https://avprodcutionsblog.wordpress.com/2017/11/19/the-rage-of-landslide/ … Those that deny the Holocaust would be the ones that pool their money for institutions such as G.E.O. and CoreCivic!

Under Mr. Trump, Private Prisons Thrive Again https://nyti.ms/2lFd91O  If Trump knew the truth: I know he'd do more than Obama would have done. It can't be said he had anything to do with it, when to government has gone rouge since '84.

https://www.nytimes.com/2017/02/24/opinion/under-mr-trump-private-prisons-thrive-again.html?smid=tw-share

I feel an intense level of exasperation with people that suggest "Time in Prison," is a learning experience for most young men, it teaches them how to experience "Oneness With Self."https://twitter.com/Maggie_McNeill/status/966084465171734528 …

Except that NPR supports the War on Whores, which is the new War on Drugs and will keep the prisons full. Because of THE CHILDREN!!!!! H

                                                                                                                        Your Advent Voice

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I am still waiting on a response.