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JuntuMae Productions & Expressions in Urban Literature

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Progressive  Elevation

Greetings! We are a small collective group of creative writers who specialize in poetry, short stories, journals, essays, editorials, songs, and screenplays. Our story began in the summer of 1979 and has experienced an amazing journey throughout the decades to share with the world. Currently, there is a webpage in the works to explore our gallery. We are anticipating to launch in summer 2019. We are still in the early stages of building and producing more content. Our goal is to inspire, encourage, uplift, challenge, entertain and hopefully provide knowledge for all to embrace. We’re very excited to be here as this is our first website. Most importantly, we’re here to promote progressive elevation. Peace and blessings to all. Thank you! - Juntu Ahjee

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Poetry

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VICTORIOUS

August 2019

VICTORIOUS

By Juntu Ahjee

Beneath the struggle of hope, lies an omen

Behind every great man, there’s a greater woman

No deed, good or bad, goes unchallenged

Turbulence is expected when life becomes unbalanced


Greatness awaits among many who are chosen

The world can be cold, but a warm heart is never frozen

A gesture of genuine kindness is shared by divinity

And goes a very long way beyond infinity


Whatever hurdles that deter the path of success

Those who stumble & fall will remain blessed

Winners are not decided on who has an award

Rather than how many times a faithful soul scored


Now, far be it from me to try to preach

I’ve been so far below the surface, choked on pride, without speech

It’s been foretold by the elders, with knowledge they teach

I am humbled with discernment, my purpose, still trying to reach


On the journey to fulfill your dreams

Always stay the course, despite how bleak things may seem

When your enemies began to smile, it will no longer be a mystery

In the end of tribulations, you will have the victory

©2019 all rights reserved

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If I Only Knew

September 2019

If I Only Knew

By Juntu Ahjee

If I only knew what yesterday would bring

Listening to my favorite song, every day I sing

Forgetting the lyrics, I learned long ago

Each day that passes, time begins to show


If I only knew the meaning of empathy

Absorbing pain from those who face infamy

Love with evil intentions are unfriendly

Watching your family and keeping close to your enemies


If I only knew the difference between the truth and a lie

Embracing happiness wishing nobody ever dies

Staying grounded to the realities of change

Discernment of tomorrow may seem a little strange


If I only knew what was taught way back when

Before innocence was born into lifelong sin

No matter how woke, each path I take

A commandment of the righteous is surely to brake


If I only knew I would be blessed to see another day

Knowing the abundance of love would be here to stay

No regrets to what the future brings

The humility of man is the creation of kings

©2019 all rights reserved

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Short Story

March 2019

PASSAGES (a survivor’s tale)

It’s the summer of July on the 3rd Friday, just half past midnight. A 16 year old girl nobody knows gives birth to a baby boy in a vacant lot behind an abandoned building. Its pouring rainfall with light hail continuously, but no one can her screams as she is all alone.  After many hours of extreme hemorrhaging, heightened blood pressure and uncontrollable heart rate with no medical care, the young mother dies giving birth, but not before pushing her infant baby boy out of her womb by herself. Within a few minutes after the baby is born, a garbage truck arrives. The driver is picking up a load when he notices a hiss of a sound that went way beyond rain drops tumbling to the ground or the music in his earplugs. As the garbage man approaches a dumpster, looking down stepping into a flood of water and what appears to be mixed with an abundance of blood, he sees the deceased young mother as well as the infant looking up at him barely crying with hardly any oxygen. The garbage man frantically radios a nearby Am care for immediate assistance. He is shaken at what he witnesses after so many years on the job. With the rain storm slowly subsiding, it took a while for the Am Care to arrive. The garbage man with no absolutely no medical training was able to severe the mother’s umbilical cord and give the baby mouth to mouth resuscitation until Am Care arrived. After several days in ICU, the baby survived and the garbage man was held a hero by local authorities. It was later revealed that the young mother was a drug addict and had been raped by one of her relatives. Of course, this affected the baby’s growth process and afflicted him with certain deformities, which also affected his learning abilities. The hospital staff, who had been caring for him, gave him a name ‘BLESSIN’. In fact, the hospital staff would take turns on who would watch over Blessin, simply because he was such a problem child from birth and had no one to look after him. Then at 6 months old, the state determined Blessin should be under foster care. But no family would take him because of his differential challenges. So before age 1, Blessin was sent to a state home for special troubled kids. There he would reside for 10 years before being accepted to a family willing to take him in. It would soon reveal, however, that he would be faced with another opposition in his new adopted family, which that his foster parents were pedophiles. Blessin was definitely handicapped with the inability to read, write and count, but was extremely gifted to understand behavioral patterns of people and unquestionably know the difference between the truth and a lie. Not long after being at his new foster home, he would escape, but not before taking all of the rest of 9 foster kids with him. The other kids then asked, “Where are we supposed to go? What are we going to do? Nobody wants us Blessin, what are you doing?” Blessin replied with a shrewd and desperate look says, “If you don’t know where you came from or where you’re going then why would you wanna stay here? It’s best to keep going until you find out who you are.” Well, it didn’t take long for state authorities to catch those kids and put them back in that toxic social care system, but Blessin managed to get away. Only for a short lived time, as Blessin by being illiterate didn’t understand it was against the law to steal. And after numerous offences, Blessin, now at age 16 is sentenced to 20 years in state penitentiary. Blessin stole a candy bar from a local store, but that’s not what got him so much prison time, the public defender along with the judge and court staff knew this kid was illiterate and made him take a plea for another case to make room for open vacancies in the system. Blessin with no idea what was befallen upon him would spend 20 years behind bars for trying to feed himself. FADE TO BLACK FOR MINUTE! Seems like a very bleak and tragic ending to another sad story. Wrong!  This was only the beginning of Blessin’s journey! During his 20 years of incarceration, he not only learned how to read, write, and count, Blessin also began to understand physics, learn about the definition of word play, study law, learn horticulture, mix sound with images and eventually earn a doctrine degree in developing a program for special needs children with learning disabilities. He became a martyr in discouraging youth from drugs and crime. Blessin also created a foundation for underage addicted mothers by reaching out to children locked up with him. Blessin also met his wife Glory, which oddly enough he would adopt her maiden name as his last name ‘Day’. Together they raised 3 beautiful children and over $70,000 to help dislocated children find safe homes. In under 15 yrs, Blessin was released from prison!  But not as an ex-convict or a registered servant of the state, but a PHD of Lifecology!  Blessin, is truly one of God’s golden blessings! True Story!                     

This story is simple. Be careful of who you treat because you never know of who you might meet!

Peace and blessings!

Written by Juntu Ahjee

©2019 all rights reserved

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81st Street

1st place 2019 National Poetry Month Contest Winner for Nubianpoets.com

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Poetry

January 2019

81st STREET

By Juntu Ahjee

On this block, resided men with mighty pride

In these households, stood strong women by their side

Connecting the gap, where all neighbors meet

Created an unbroken family on 81st street


A small piece of turf that was less than a mile

Where it truly took an entire village to raise a child

At a time when brothers and sisters, were sole to keep

Nothing came between us on 81st street


A house divided could not stand

The foundation that bonded on turbulent land

In a world of wars where ground is below six feet

A covenant of protection shielded over 81st street


The comradely we shared was unmatched by none

Earnest & genuine respect to the old from the young

Gestures of feeding love for all those to eat

Hunger could not prosper on 81st street


Reflecting back as an adult, upon a special time

Of all the treacherous places I’ve seen riddled with crime

I can only remember, winners learn how to beat

Playing with friends on 81st street    

 ©2019 all rights reserved

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Short Stories

June 2019

                                               FOLLOWERS                                                       

(A parable about true courage)

It’s early mid-winter, very cold with anticipation of heavy snow. An adolescent teen named Caleb is outside playing with friends his father does not know. Caleb’s father calls to him, “come inside son, we have work to do’. Caleb waves goodbye to his friends and says “see ya at school”! To Caleb’s surprise and delight, his father gives him a brand new hunting knife.  Caleb says, “Thanks Dad. Why after the holidays for such a nice gift?” His Dad replies, “Because tonight we are going on a hunting trip. You are going to experience manhood for the first time son; I’ll even let you carry your Grandpa’s gun”.  Caleb smiles with sheer zeal as he wondered what they were hunting to kill. Caleb asks, “What are we hunting Dad? I know we’re 70 miles from dear country”. His Dad replies, “Don’t you worry son, just follow me”. Later that night, Caleb and his father arrive at the hunting site. Many miles away where there’s hardly no light, a group of other men arrive to participate, with trucks shining bright. Caleb asks, “Who are these guys Dad?” His father replies, “These are my friends, son, don’t look so sad. You’ll still get the first kill, I promise you that.” As the group moves across a clearing, through a frigid pond, into an abundance of cold woods, there was no dear in sight and beyond, which made Caleb feel good. Caleb never killed anything before, and was a little nervous being amongst veterans who were hardcore.  Just as Caleb was at a brief sigh of relief, suddenly he noticed something that was beyond belief.  He signals his Dad, “Look there’s someone over at a nearby tree.” His father grabs his binoculars and says, “Yep, that’s where he needed to be. Let’s go get him boys, follow me.” A sudden look of discernment and fear overcame Caleb, which was far from joy. As his father and the group of men rushed toward the tree, Caleb slowly walks behind and closely observes what he could not believe. An old Black man tied to that tree. Beaten, swollen and bruised from his head to his feet, so bad he could hardly see. Caleb is shaken with shock as his Dad and the other men began to throw rocks. They fire their guns in the air; Caleb is in a state of total despair. His father walks over to him and gives Caleb his Grandpa’s gun and says’ “Welcome to manhood son!”  His father tells Caleb, with the most sinister fiendish look, “KILL HIM!”  The situation was very grim and young Caleb’s nerves got extremely limp.  The other men cheered him on while drinking 100 proof sauce, as Caleb began to feel the heat in the shadow of a burning cross. All Caleb could do was look at his father as his eyes began to well with tears and ask, “Why Dad? Why? Who are you? What are you? This is not right”. His father replies, “They’re not us son, they don’t look like us, they don’t act like us and they don’t belong here.”  Caleb tearfully says, “Dad, didn’t you know my best friend is Black? We fish together on the weekends. We play basketball together. He saved me from drowning in a lake. We pricked our fingers as blood brothers. His blood is as red as mine. His parents take me to church on Sundays. His mother makes lemonade and cookies for us to eat while we fish. THIS MAN REMINDS ME OF HIS FATHER! WHY DAD? WHY?”  Suddenly, stone silence sets in when the men stop cheering as Caleb defies his father wishes very soundly.  His father angrily replies, “Now, you better listen to me Caleb, the Bible says ‘honor thy mother & thy father, for they days may be long on this earth’. These people are savages, sinners and complete scum. They have no place among us good Christian folks or any place under the sun. Don’t forget who you are and who brought you into this world. You wanted to hunt. Shoot that savage in the head. NOW! FILL HIM FULL OF LEAD!” Caleb takes the gun. He’s visibly shaken; terrified, scared, even wet his pants.  He points the gun at the old man, who appears to be tired but absolutely fearless, stares into his eyes, then turns and looks at his Dad and crying says, “I know sin has no color, but I’m starting to wonder what color evil is.” Caleb drops the gun, pulls out his ‘new’ hunting knife, quickly runs over to the tree and cuts the old man free.  Caleb and the old man are suddenly surrounded by angry drunken parasites with loaded guns and nowhere to run.  Caleb’s father, with the coldest stare says, “You just committed the greatest sin against your own kind, you are not worthy to be any seed of mine.” Caleb stands in front of the broken and injured old man with only his ‘brand new’ knife, with a daring look says, “Jesus didn’t die alone and neither will I.  All you tough guys with them guns. Scared of a 13 year old kid with just a knife and a beat up old man huh? If you kill him, they won’t come. But if you kill me, you ain’t got no place to run. How you gonna explain that Dad? CLEAR A PATH NOW!” Caleb’s father tells the men to lower their guns and let them pass. “It’s cold, they have no food, no water, and they’ll never last. That boy’s heart is too fragile and hallow, for my path for him is too treacherous to follow”. The old man touches Caleb on his shoulder and says, “Thank you”. Caleb takes the old man’s hand as the men begin to clear a path to allow them through. Caleb says to the old man, “Mister, please follow me and then run as fast as you can I’ll protect you Sir.” The old man then silently whispers to Caleb and says, “No Caleb, follow me on this path and I will guide you to the light from all this darkness and protect you for eternity.” As they cleared the path, in the midst of a doomed event, they both ran in different directions, almost impossible to see which way they went. The old man disappeared without a trace into the night. However, Caleb’s father could clearly see the glimmer from the ‘new’ hunting knife as his son ran away for dear life. One of the men shouted, “You really gonna let him get away with that?” But all Caleb’s father could do, as the cold fog of smoke remained in tact, was stand there in silence, watching his son run away from him and never look back.   




The moral and message of this story is clearly simple. Racial bigotry and hatred is a learned behavior. It’s hereditary in the homes, schools, churches etc. To this date, there’s only one planet where humans exists but occasionally, angels pop in for a visit. Hate is a wasted emotion and life is way too short. Look into your heart, what remains unseen. This story took place in 2019.     

Written by Juntu Ahjee

©2019 all rights reserved

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Literary Essay

March 2015

Freedom of Speech: Watch What You Say

            “Liberate the minds of men and ultimately you will liberate the bodies of men” (Marcus Garvey). Unanimously, the freedom of speech is protected by the First Amendment of the United States Constitution. It could be considered the most important liberty we have as a union and a nation.  Freedom of speech creates the ability to generate new ideas, give insight to different opinions, and allow expression of individual values. In contrast, this compulsive behavior of sovereignty has taken a double standard in our world. The sins and atrocities of the past still determine how society adjusts to change. We are now in a state of such political correctness that the liberty of free speech is becoming more non-existent.

            It is a malicious falsehood to believe words are not powerful enough to influence impressionable minds. Even those with a privileged upbringing can be intrigued by persuasive language. Speaking your mind or giving your opinion is the only truth we posses as human beings. This is what differentiates us as individuals. Unfortunately, sometimes even in a free society, this abrasive behavior can make for an uncomfortable environment. History has surely taught us the power of words. “I believe today that my conduct is in accordance with the will of the Almighty Creator” (Adolf Hitler).

            Does intelligence breed ignorance? Can good intentions have evil consequences? Words take on an entirely divergent meaning when it's injected by one's personal opinion. Television, social media, talk radio (among many others) incorporate this function to subsidize their common agenda. It's all about popularity. The majority rules and an indigenous thought could lead to severe ridicule. In other words, if you go against the grain, you'll get thrown under a bus. The tragedy which occurred at Charlie Hebdo in Paris cost innocent lives over a play of words. 

            “Freedom of speech, however, is upheld by certain rules and laws in our society and governments. There will always be a minority who refuse to play by the rules. This reality means that merely having a public profile and expressing views on contentious issues can put one at risk” (Yousef Munayyer). There is a serious contradiction in the representation of free speech. An incident occurred recently at the University of Oklahoma where a fraternity made derogatory racial chants in a song. This, of course, was met with swift punishment. Does the punishment fit the crime? Would this incident have gained as much attention if it had not been video taped? Were those students exercising their right to free speech? The growing consensus is that if African-Americans can call themselves the 'N' word, then why can't others use that term. It has been perpetuated through rap music for years, and many Caucasians see a justification. Words only have power if they have meaning behind them. Analytically speaking, America has always been extremely biased and hypocritical in race relations. These same so-called liberals who scrutinize every single racial epithet which goes viral, makes one wonder what truths are being expressed privately. Many believe that racism is non-existent since the election of President Barack Obama. On the contrary, it's more prevalent than it was 50 years ago. Not acknowledging that racism is still a deadly cancer in this country, is just as much racist as those who preach it. Furthermore, making people disappear for speaking their mind is not solving the problem. It's merely putting a bandage over an open wound until it bleeds again.

            In today's society, free speech is delegated soley by popularity. Political leaders have adopted this theory for years.  However, some subjects are still taboo, such as gay marriage, legal marijuana, and abortion. Who determines what you can say and what you shouldn't say? “When it emerged in 2006 that AT&T, Bell-South and Verizon may have broken U.S. laws by aiding the National Security Agency in possible illegal wiretapping of its customers, Congressional representatives called for an FCC investigation into whether or not those companies broke the law. The FCC declined to investigate, however, claiming that it could not investigate due to the classified nature of the program– a move that provoked the criticism of members of Congress” (Wikipedia). Regardless of personal opinions, religious beliefs or political preference, free speech only pertains to what the majority wants to hear. By design, free speech was the gateway to an open democracy, now it's just an allusion to censorship. People are afraid to be themselves because of the backlash or dislikes that will follow on their social media page. There was a time when being opinionated was noble. Significant change began to increase when one took a stand. This is what describes true democracy; the ability to agree to disagree.

            The internet has created a platform for society to express freedom of speech. How far have we evolved as a country? In close observation, by various blogs and/or comments on a multitude of sites, an astounding number of people are massively divided. Honesty, it's a feeling of being rejected backwards towards segregation. “With the increase of smart-phones in recent years many have all griped about the narcissism of people who spend all their time on social networks, text messaging at a dinner table or taking photos of the food they eat. There is talk about how social networks and new devices like the Google Glass visor have diluted privacy, to the point that Google published do’s and don’ts for using the visor as guidelines on how not to be “creepy or rude (aka, a ‘Glasshole’)” (Tom Risen).

            Ultimately, words can build and destroy nations. A provocative opinion or ingenious idea can mold generations. Freedom of speech is what chronicles America. Occasionally,

society will face opposition on many issues. The defining moments when people can come together for a righteous purpose is humanity. Whatever position an individual represents relies on their choice of words. Right or wrong, words are what tell the mindset from children to adults. What is the comparison between extremists and fanatics? Upholding the rhetoric of madness a brilliant mind incorporated with the stroke of a pen. What do the Klu Klux Klan and the Black Panthers have in common? They both want to sustain the constitutional right to express their cause among those who reject them. Speak now or forever hold your peace

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Short Story

February 2019

TRESPASSERS (an allegory about truth)

It was the last day of school and one week before the summer, a young African-American fifth grader named Jasmine (Jazzy) receives her report card. Jazzy had problems with math but worked very diligently to get a passing grade. To her surprise she received all A’s. Jazzy’s teacher even rewarded her a certificate for outstanding student of the year. All of her classmates applauded and congratulated her achievement. Jazzy stood proudly full of smiles, as this was a first reward for her. At age 10, she found a new beginning, because for the first 9 years of her life were very challenging. Jazzy was born with dyslexia and had a slight speech impediment. But last year was the worst, as Jazzy’s father passed away in tragic car accident.  Not to mention her mother was suddenly hit with a tremendous amount of debt and expenses. However, Jazzy’s spirit remained resilient as she never once allowed none of those terrible obstacles, for such a young age, to get her down.  On this particular day, she had more bounce than ten thousand basketballs! Jazzy along with some friends walk back to their neighborhood from school only ten blocks away. There is some gang activity and a fight breaks out, but Jazzy is on cloud 9 and pays it no mine. She goes home to her Mom and waves goodbye to her friends, runs in and embraces her Mom, then shares the great news about her report card. Jazzy’s Mom smiles with sheer joy and tells Jazzy we are going to celebrate this one and says “I’m very proud of you baby and I know your Dad would be too if he were here.” Jazzy looks at her Mom while eating sunflower seeds and causally says, “I know Mom, but he’s here in spirit”. Jazzy’s Mom then says, “Well boo boo, don’t stay up too late. We are going to visit your Grandma in the morning since school is out.” Jazzy then says, “Ok Mom!” Later that night, Jazzy’s Mom is awakened by a very loud noise. As she looks out her bedroom window at what appears to be a fight between gang members in her front yard. She then becomes extremely concerned as she noticed one of them with a gun. Jazzy’s Mom, then calls 911 as she reaches for her own gun in fear and protection of Jazzy. Suddenly, as quick as a finger snap, her house was hit with a barrage of bullets, ripping through the sheetrock of walls, destroying furniture and shattering glass. Jazzy’s Mom was hit 4 times, once in the shoulder and once in the back. But she couldn’t feel a thing as she ran vigorously to her daughter’s room to shield her from the bullets coming in, as she was also hit in her leg and chest. When the gunfire stopped, Jazzy’s Mom forcibly kicked down her daughter’s bedroom door. She stood petrified in disbelief and says, “No, no this is a dream, I’m not awake right now, I’m just not awake right now. My baby is alright! My baby is alright! She’s okay! I’m dreaming! Please Lord Jesus, tell me I’m dreaming! TELL ME LORD! NO! NO! NO! OH NO, no, no, no no! Jazzy’s Mom reaches down and cradles Jazzy, who was hit in the back of her head by a stray bullet and died instantly. Jazzy’s Mom, who was very badly wounded herself, could not feel a thing as she profusely bled and wept holding Jazzy’s lifeless body in her arms. As the smoke began to clear and the dust started to settle, it was revealed that, in fact, it was the police that mistakenly shot into the wrong house trying to apprehend the gang members. And after months of extensive investigations by state authorities, the police officers were not charged with the death of Jazzy or the endangerment of her mother. Also, those gang members still roam Jazzy’s neighborhood to this day. Jazzy’s Mom, however, did recover from her wounds and after months in ICU, she was released. She currently resides with Jazzy’s Grandma. Jazzy’s Grandma asks, “Baby, everything is gonna be fine, but are you okay?” Jazzy’s Mom responds by saying, “Oh yes Granny! Jazzy paid me a visit while I was in the hospital which is what kept me alive. She said, ‘don’t worry Mama, it didn’t hurt at all, didn’t feel a thing. I slept sound as a rock all the way through. Oh yeah, Dad says hello and we’re doing fine. Great to see Daddy again! Don’t worry about us. We will catch up with you later. I love you!”


This story is dedicated to all who lost a child or a loved one because of senseless police and/or gang violence. This happens far too often in our neighborhoods, and our children are suffering because of it. Our children deserve a right to live abundantly. Jazzy could have easily been the next doctor, scientist, teacher, businesswoman or have a cure for cancer. To take the life of a child is destroying the future.   Peace & blessings!

Written by Juntu Ahjee

©2019 all rights reserved

Literary Essay

October 2015

Guilty Until Proven Innocent: An Exoneration of Freedom

by Juntu Ahjee

            “For as the blood of Christ had been shed on this earth, and had ascended to heaven for the salvation of sinners, and was now returning to earth again in the form of dew and as the leaves on the trees bore the impression of the figures I had seen in the heavens, it was plain to me that the Savior was about to lay down the yoke he had borne for the sins of men, and the great day of judgment was at hand” (Nat Turner).

          A disturbing and horrific truth exist in the American justice system, or lack of justice. Many are eluded to believe that the criminal justice system solely consist of people convicted of felony offenses. This couldn't be more far from the truth. In fact, an alarming rate of innocent civilians are incarcerated as those who have committed crimes against society. Statistically, we will never know for sure, but the few studies that have been done estimate that between 2.3% and 5% of all prisoners in the U.S. are innocent (for context, if just 1% of all prisoners are innocent, that would mean that more than 20,000 innocent people are in prison). This is an unacceptable and gross injustice to all citizens. In colossal proportions, it devastates people of color in minority communities. It brings to question in ones mind, if in fact; is it generational genocide by design?

          Try to imagine preparing to start your day for work, embracing your family, sending your children away to school, and on the way to work you are ceased by the police to pull over, only to become the case of a mistaken identity. Make no mistake; this can happen to you! The criminal justice system has failed on every level imaginable. We are now in such a deranged state of capitalism to where power and control supersede growth and wealth. Greed has saturated the economy of good & evil, in default very few invest in morals nor acknowledge right & wrong. Justice is bankrupt as long as corrupt souls write bogus checks. The mutual benefits from a free society bloom from fair negotiations.

          Is wrong the new right & right the new wrong? The world consistently breaks brand new ground without warning. The monopoly of life will relish in deceptive behavior. Will mankind adapt to the teachings of the youth or adapt to the sins of the elders?  The grim reality of being persecuted in a savage penal system is invidious, if you're innocent it's a nightmare.

            Kwame Ajamu was just 17 in 1975 when he was convicted of murder in the killing of a Cleveland money-order salesman. On Tuesday, Ajamu, now 57 and out on parole since 2003, wept after a judge cleared all charges against him. A witness recanted his testimony after it was revealed that police intimidation was a key factor in bringing a conviction. This young man served 27 years of his life in prison based on a lie. People who were found to be wrongfully imprisoned can receive more than $40,000 for each year they were imprisoned per Ohio state law. Can you really put a price tag on a human life? The prison industrial system more than quadrupled that amount each month from inmate labor.

          Between 2000 and 2010 the number of inmates serving sentences in private prisons doubled. Today, the $5 billion industry houses close to 20 percent of federal prisoners and about 7 percent of state prisoners, and private prisons are increasingly being used as immigration detention centers.

          A prison population of up to 2 million – mostly Black and Hispanic – are working for various industries for a pittance. For the tycoons who have invested in the prison industry, it has been like finding a pot of gold. They don’t have to worry about strikes or paying unemployment insurance, vacations or comp time. All of their workers are full-time, and never arrive late or are absent because of family problems; moreover, if they don’t like the pay of 25 cents an hour and refuse to work, they are locked up in isolation cells. Corporate stockholders who make money off prisoners’ work lobby for longer sentences, in order to expand their workforce. The prison industry complex is one of the fastest-growing industries in the United States and its investors are on Wall Street. This multibillion-dollar industry has its own trade exhibitions, conventions, websites, and mail-order/Internet catalogs. It also has direct advertising campaigns, architecture companies, construction companies, investment houses on Wall Street, plumbing supply companies, food supply companies, armed security, and padded cells in a large variety of colors.

          In order to continue this thriving slave trade, requires people at any cost, regardless of innocence or guilt. Anthony Ray Hinton is an Alabama man who was on death row for the murders he was accused of, against two restaurant managers, John Davidson and Thomas Wayne Vasona in Birmingham, Alabama on February 25 and July 2, 1985. He remained on death row for nearly 30 years, often in solitary confinement. The Jefferson County district attorney’s office on Wednesday April 1, 2015 moved to drop the case after their forensics experts were unable to match crime-scene bullets to the gun. Prosecutors admitted they could not match bullets found at the crime scene with Hinton's gun (the only evidence in the original trial). On April 3, 2015, Hinton was released from the prison after Laura Petro, Jefferson County Circuit judge, overturned his conviction and all charges were dropped against him. Hinton's representation was provided by the Equal Justice Initiative. He is the 152nd person exonerated from death row in the United States since 1973 and the sixth in the state of Alabama. This is a merciless reality; this is a fact of life in the American judicial system.

          It brings a provocative question to one's mind, which is, what repercussions happen to those who are trusted to make valued decisions over peoples lives?  Do the rules still apply to those who willfully abuse power and authority in the name of justice and righteousness? If we as citizens want to alleviate the problem of civil unbalance then we must first confront the cancer of racism, destroy the hunger for greed, and hold those accountable who forsake our freedom and liberty for profitable gain. When the tables are turned around, only then we will begin to see equal justice. An analogy to a ship facing a great tidal wave swarming on both ends without no sign of land. How resilient do poor people conquer unbelievable circumstances at impossible odds? Why does absolute privilege  determine who wins or who loses?

          One thing is unquestionable; we will all face judgment one day. In this life or the next, each of us will be held responsible for our individual actions. The probability of karma exists as certain as the law of gravity.  We can no longer turn a blind eye to this evil travesty which is affecting our children as well as the families of their children. Growing paranoia of immigration laws, past atrocities from different minority groups, fear from personal prejudice has this country divided at an unprecedented level. Isolation and consolidation is the only solution to those who masquerade the truth about who they are. It's what people know about themselves which makes them afraid, not crime. Righteousness is a fallen branch from a broken tree shattered into millions of splinters. Justice has been compromised into a commodity for wealthy lawless political parasites who drain away the endurance of honest, hard working law abiding brothers and sisters. One should think for a moment about so many who have lost their lives, being separated away from their families, the despair, the anger, the tears, the pain, the danger, the fear and victory against those who try to oppress us. Time is something you can never get back, but death is imminent.

          “For what will it profit a man if he gains the entire world, then lose his soul” (Matthew 16:26)

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Poetry

A Soldier’s Son

by Juntu Ahjee


in the battlefield of love and anger

a soldier's son never cries

in the midst of pain, despair & danger

a soldier's spirit never dies


a broken man who bonds with mighty pride

finds reassurance from family ties

the strength he shows through endurance to guide

only resonates from those who survived


a soldier never leaves a man behind

in the combat of good and evil, many were left

a soldier's prayers were never declined

because Jesus wept in hope that faith be kept


a soldier can fight for right and wrong

misunderstood by many, misjudged by some

a prophet's story was told in lyrics of the same song

in a war of souls, a man walks alone & trust no one


life is a promise, death is a reality

but a soldier's son can never cry

only God represents immortality

because a soldier's spirit never dies

©2015 all copyrights reserved

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Poetry

March 2019

DISCOVERIES

By Juntu Ahjee

It was foretold in the past

God watches over babies and fools

Faith is a remedy to pain, to heal a bleeding soul fast

For a wounded heart vulnerable, in a world that’s cruel


Those who don’t know, don’t worry

Misunderstood by the chaos surrounding them

A blind look in the mirror where the future seems blurry

Ignorance is perishable among the brilliance we condemn


Insanity is adaptable to a crazy world

Who has enough sense to face reality?

Without the benefit of a doubt while living in peril

Facing the consequence of uncommon duality


What is normal in a toxic, corrosive society?

An opinionated mindset is objectionable

Who elected to be born without anxiety?

Ye who stands alone is what makes you exceptional


What is ordinary to some, depends on how it’s defined

Many perpetuate nefarious ideology as means of control

Who you are determines the direction of your mind

 Enduring the complexities of what makes a person whole

©2019 all rights reserved

Dedicated to those suffering from mental illness, emotional deficiencies or just misunderstood.

 You are not alone! Peace and blessings!

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Poetry

February 2019

MORAL GENOCIDE

By Juntu Ahjee

Since the existence of time, to which nothing waits

A soul is a vessel inhabiting life beginning to the end

All rebuttals will be resolved at the gate

By default, we’re born into sin


In apocalyptic days that we face

There are no reparations for a superior race

The only ramifications are the choices that you make

The prince of darkness never shares, only takes


It’s imperative to remember, to be mindful of the wicked

Enemies, family & friends; those we love we also hate

It’s reciprocal when the laws of karma come to pay a visit

Joy and pain of life and death does not discriminate


 Even with 40 acres and a mule with the power to spend a trillion

There’s still no escape from gentrification of good and evil

Not building and sacrificing the economics for our children

Immobilizing the destruction of our own people


I was told we’re living in the days of revelations

We can not eradicate the future of the unknown

A warning to those who fear eternal damnation

Be very careful of the stones that have been thrown

©2019 all rights reserve

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Poetry

August 2019

Through the Eyes of an Angel

By Juntu Ahjee

In this life, pain is birth

Born into a world made of water & dirt

Awakened from confusion, not knowing her worth

In the eyes of an angel, she is the most precious jewel on earth


She screams tears of joy, not that of sorrow

In hopes of what love will bring tomorrow

Don’t fret little one, things around you may become very hallow

I am your angel, you have all my love and will never have to barrow


She wonders, ‘why so much despair and anger?’

‘All I wanted to do was play with toys, maybe grow up to be a singer’

 Sometimes family can bring harm to you worse than any stranger

Fear not, I am your angel, I will protect you from all danger


She then asks, ‘God, why does love hurt so much?’

‘Why I am afraid at the slightest touch?’

She became a rock totally invisible to crack or bust

In the eyes of a child, how do you know who to trust?


In the end, she no longer cries or asks questions

Her demonic enemies cannot hide full confessions

Fear not baby girl, I am your angel, no need to keep guessing

I will forever keep you away from evil with eternal blessings

©2019 all rights reserved

This poem is dedicated to Maleah Davis and any/all children who are victims of abuse. Regardless of race, color, religion, class or whatever, this is one of the most extremely disturbing vile stories I’ve ever heard, and I’m deeply wounded by it. No child deserves this! It’s unacceptable!  The kids are the future folks, we must protect them at all cost. Whatever it takes. Peace & blessings.    Juntu

Hattie Harris Book cover concept jpeg 2.

The Legend of Sister Hattie Harris

July 31, 2019

This is a rare opportunity and a privilege to tell the story of an incredibly strong African-American woman, who was not only a powerful force of nature with her family and those she touched in her path but also a major game changer throughout the course of history.

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Life Is a Story: Embrace Every Chapter

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Why put off today, what you should have done yesterday knowing tomorrow ain't promised.

Grover Gutter Sr.

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One of the greatest perks of my job is getting feedback and interacting with readers. Contact me if you’ve got any comments or questions for me, I’d love to hear from you.

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