Next Man Up, Poetry in Motion

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This is a Kun V studios original program. The content of this program does not reflect the views or opinions of 91.5 jazz and more the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, or the Board of Regents of the Nevada System of Higher Education. Here we go. Here we go. Move it. Move it. Move it.

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Yeah, beautiful,

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next man up. Let's

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go,

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peace and love and welcome to the show. I am your host, Donna van Lee Dean, actor, author and rhythmic poet. You're now tuned in to next minute poetry in motion, where the mission is to provide the essence of poetry in motion, promoting peace, love and growth for the existence of humanity and the culture. This poetry show will motivate, educate and inspire you with spoken word through cultural expression. Now let's get on with the show. This is next minute, poetry in motion, nervous

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heart. I'm trying to find a way

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try to COVID sacred and do it just today.

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Go in with a fresh mind and a pure heart. Mistakes were made. Go in with a fresh start. The emphasis is today. The uncertainty is tomorrow. I live another day. That's success. Time is borrowed. Carnage is on a regular another family see grief. Mike's more cut off still, the Tennessee three were able to speak from the crying girl and dying boy slain by salt styles too many bullets to avoid. Pray for them as they attempt to fight for a law made for all, as they attempt to prevent another body to fall history that might get in the midst of infamy, they're setting aside politics for human safety, making enemies Your vote can avoid the timing Your vote can avoid the may be a bully, what it got to be unprecedented as we witness the headlines of an indictment, as the rich make more money on merch poses as victims inciting Another riot never quiet. The problem is alive. More foreigners are crowding US borders, like refugees after Roe v Wade reversed. More women are escaping red states like refugees. More protest in the streets like Help us, please, and dire need of open minds and clear views so that one day, hope is universal health care making headlines on CNN news.

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Excel, PRAY, WAIT for it. Peace never came. Now, beware of a man force bound to take the Republican God bless us as we fight for peace on earth, as mankind kills one another, it's gain more turf, for drugs, for crops, for money, for urgent message, human to human, heart To Heart. Change your route for a fresh start.

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You

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breathe. Let's

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get to

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it. Tossing and turning is harder to breathe. Deprived in my sleep is your love that I need. The day you return is the day that I leave for the final arrival. That's why I believe, from water the wine as your blood. We are blessed. The bread is your flesh. I won't settle for less. I will hunger for more on your grace. I will feed the giver of life. This is Rob.

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The bread is your flesh. I want to settle for less. Settle

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for that

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you I want to love you like a country man.

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I want to hang out with you on the front porch with rocking chairs waltzing on wrinkle wood. I would sing you country love songs like Islands in the Stream,

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because that is what we are. I

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want to love you like a country, man. I want to go outside and catch lightning bugs with you, not fireflies, lightning bugs that Drake the sky like city lights, but we molasses drip of this country, grandma, our twang pour out like lack of proper punctuation that flows so perfect from the mouths of our mason jars.

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I want to stare at the moon beams from your smile.

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It's the kind of moonshine I want to drink so your.

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After is my libation. I want to love you like a country man.

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Love you like chopping wood. Handle you firmer,

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keep you sharp.

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So when it's time to go deep, we go deep

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like southern roots in this slave fill soil that extend this country, all over this country, where everyone can see how country they really is. I want to love you like fish and grits, tripping grits, buddy and grits. And I don't like sugar in my grits, but you baby, you can be the sugar in my crits, I want to love you like a country man like cutting the grass on Saturday mornings, I can be your John Deere to make sure I properly manicure the landscape of our love.

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Love You Like all the chores done, and we can finally watch a movie. Kind of love I wanna love you like a country man going to church. You on the Usher board so I can love you like Deacon Johnson. Love sister Betty. Love you like pulpit. Love you like counting all the money in the back room for the building fund. Love you like watching you sing on the choir.

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Love you like I want to hug every hallelujah that's in your soul. I want to love you like a country man.

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Have you kissed my thick country lips? The lips you say you love to hear me say things like show Liz, show nerve, bless our heart. And look at here. So baby, look at here.

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Clipping. Love you like a country man. Will we be two grasshoppers and lush green meadows wide is all our does? Looking up at the velvet blanket of Vanilla Sky till it's can't see country black outside, but the neighbors can hear us chirping, grass hopping, leg rubbing, language.

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I want to love you like a country man,

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just as long as you love me

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like a country woman, loving her country man, then we can show the world that being country is cool. Here we go. Here we go. Next. Man up.

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The architect,

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to build to imagine,

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is a fashion that leads to a new beginning.

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Placing pieces to a puzzle, isolating in this bubble can get a creative in trouble, but trouble is the only way to make a statement. To see a world only in one way, as if it were any given Sunday is a blasphemy. Hey, I'm not special. I'm just an architect taking what was once in the ground and turning it into a multiplex of ideas, of truth, of proof, to the youth that you can look into others

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or something, and identify you. Blueprints on the table. Don't mind the ink stains. My excitement leaks through the design from the screws all the way to the different colors of paint. The world that I want to build Could Kill Bill, but that's all fiction to the glorious bastard's description the depiction of richness shifts this interest, reimagining the Invictus shiftless, empty, bottomless pitless mentality of a racist interest. I'll repeat. The depiction of richness shifts this interest reimagining the Invictus shiftless, empty, bottomless pitless mentality of a racist interest I invest in the contest of others to create togetherness so that we can burst through this bubble of sloppiness,

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so that we can

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kill the inner Grim Reaper,

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so that we can then call upon the gods that we were birthed from and ask those gods to give us that spark, to give us that light, that torch, to give us that thing that never dies, which is more life

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again, guys.

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I'm nothing special.

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I'm just an architect

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ready to build something new.

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Know your man.

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Never faced by

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no demand.

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We need a leader. You with vision, your Paramount move the world impact the next generation of a young boy and a girl, terror is on a rise. Harness headlines throughout the land, we're in despair, yet I want a peace mission, lending helping hand. I'm a Nourse and territory accompanied by corruption, life, peace, joy, taking it once, degrade, abduction. I'm taking on a fight falling believe and you lead the way. Boost. Humanity is on us For a brighter Dave,

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you

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I

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let the sun set easy on the days I have left. I am very unaware of the duration of my breath, and I like the ones enjoy without a worry in the globe or the concern of a direction that no one knows. My youth is far behind in the physical tense, but my heart remains that with a strong innocence, I haven't got long in the blink of an eye. So let me have this as up here, off in the sky, you

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I haven't got long in the blink of an eye, so let me have This is up here often. Scott,

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yeah, let me

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tell me chime in on this one right here. Man, you the people mission. Don't talk about it.

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Let's

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go governments on, shut down. I gotta find no hustle for right now. No bell to shakes, no pork base sitting third place with minimum wage. Hold my linen. Don't force the bank to turn it down from alone, it's time to kind of profile the gap minute resting for committing no crimes. More problems I type more problems. I don't know what solo misses trying to solve the rich dude can barely pay the card, no light bill. Stressed out. Y'all stand tall with my head high. I refuse to nail on welfare, on food stamps, but food prices are sky high in two weeks, though, food stamps won't be enough to get by. Workers leave a job because they own strike because the pay is low. Inflation. Spice got suicides, got pill addiction, got more in debt with no remission. More problems the top more problems. Give a talk. It's a human issue. I'm trying to solve more problems. Talk strong. It's a human issue. I'm trying to solve them.

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You

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thank you for tuning in to next man up. Poetry in motion. I am Donna Billy Dean, before we dive into our second segment, I would like to propel you our listeners with the first power message. It's a message about ownership. Own up to your flaws, your imperfections. This includes relationships, friendships, and how you move through life as a whole. Accept the fact that you're not perfect. You're human, if not, it can lead to gas lighting, destruction, to the person you associate with and to self, look yourself in the mirror, recognize where you are, where you went wrong, to make it right, your future and potentially Your legacy depends on it.

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La on a track you

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day.

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Man, I had enough looking at these urban skiers, polluted can just develop with this urban vibe, but

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this temporary, it was cool for a short time. Just need to leave the city limits for a night ride. I'm good now.

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Just need time to meditate. I see the move. Let me ride out. For the sake of better faith. Let me ride out. Just need an ultimate rule of sensation. Cruising 80 not alone, a historic highway straight through, no hesitation. I'm feeling good now the windows down, the cool that he breathes and leading. I'm gone now. The house is clear. Now, just as clear as the night sky. A cruise up the hill can almost touch the moon, stars. Sometimes the lines tap, the lines by the moon X Nourse, its energy got the countryside. It sits on the horizon. The statement man, I'm riding through a vision of soft painting like Dave brush my body smooth light strokes, applying cool night colors, applying a daily killer with no rush. It's detrimental to the soul to ride back on this night, chasing the moon the horizon so romantic back be nullified. The mood ruined by Twilight

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between me and Mother Earth is around alone. The grooves, the curse, the stars, highlights the media, displays of work for me. Let me get back to the city bank. Let me get back to the hustle, the bustle, the grind. That's not a farewell to catch it later, the moon rising. We'll do this another time. Well,

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yeah,

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turn your face from faking to the one who gives his grace. Slow your pace from racing. Pump the brakes and show some faith. Rid your load of baggage. It's not easy making space, but that love is possibility, worthy of the chase

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and worthy of the chase.

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All right, here's another one.

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This one is called confusion.

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Confusion. This state of mind when brothers and sisters walk around like zombies, doing that same old thing, polluting their lungs while poisoning their brains, holding their heads up high, strutting with no shame, faking like they get an education, but what they really getting is insane. You see our children, our beautiful, creative children go to school every day, learning to read and write, and still can't read or write. And according to the symbol, formerly known as Prince, he says, the sign of the times. I say, there's so much confusion. We seem to be blind, confused, state of mind,

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whatever happened to Dr Martin Luther King Jr's Dream, which was deeply rooted in the American dream. Though the American Dream is nothing but a scheme built up on the backs of who yes, Aboriginals like me and you. Now in 2024 What do our people to do? Drink and drive, say toast off pandemic lives. So we all know what that is, right. Confuse his state of mind. See, everybody is out here partying and celebrating when this world is studying recycling. Hate, white against black, black against white. Stop. Let's take a look at the statistics that keep track. In fact, it's white against black, black against black, and cop against black, and wonder why death is a fascination to the youth from the east to the west. Death is at your rest. There's no need to wonder why rappers need to wear a bulletproof vest. Tupac and Biggie pop smoke and Nipsey took slugs to the chest. Y'all know what that is? Right? Confused state of mind. See, I've been out here searching for the beginning of our existence, but finding the end to all resistance. The time is now for some drastic change. The time has come for some mental rearranging. Let's flush out all our Euro ways and look to our ancestors for new days. To you, this may seem somewhat extreme, but Malcolm told us all, by any means necessary to accomplish this goal, which is to open people's eyes and revitalize our soul. With this we can leave this long, drawn out confused state of mind behind, confused state of mind.

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Here we go. Here we go. Next man, up. You.

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That girl from way back style, she got me southern dreaming, thinking, creamy, fine, brown, sweet as mine. That girl from way back style, she got me southern dreaming,

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she prayed.

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And my

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she presses through the fields of the magnolias. She's funny. Them thick curves as a groove, a slow rhythm, compelled by Melody a hummingbird. Country Girl is striking. Fauci sex appeal, never discrete. Guitar plays celebrating her beauty with Southern Rios.

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Cool.

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Words from the Gulf moisture to the buyers, so fierce she make them knees, Bucha, she's delectable, like cornbread, oxen that Southern Christina, such a treat, like a Louisiana crawfish on my feet. This dream feels so real.

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She's got the remedy. This dream feels so real.

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She's the one for me. I thought she runs deep like OGS for classic and palace and Cadillacs. That thing rise slow,

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Bucha. Is faster. She got that fire hot sauce with intellect that Southern inspired your stretches wider, low mosquito creatures and swamps. Nothing else matters.

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She's sweet as Georgia peach. Southern victim hospitality. She got that good goo, a seduction too good to be reality. Man, look at how she moving

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slow. Chop. Chop. This

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is

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ecstasy. I close my eyes. Don't wake me up.

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She's vivacious, like family, cookout those Friday afternoons, two step diploma and be eating my soul food. Natural beauty. She wasn't natural for Nourse skiing, a natural glow, so natural this queen, she calls me King. Can let this one go. I'm good. This dream

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feels so real.

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She's the one for me. In my opinion, the greatest action cartoon in the world, besides Spider Man was the X Men. And who was the most popular X Men? Everybody couldn't wait to see. Yeah, Wolverine. That dude was mean with a growl let you know he means business, with biceps bulging through his yellow X Men, uniform slash types. But you might not want to tease him about it, because he'll be like you're talking to me, and within an instant you'll be high, telling it faster than a crack head, chasing a high but it wouldn't matter, because he'll catch you. And with his animating claws, he can take on sentinels. He can take all magnetos hitch men. Take on villains of all sorts, but he always felt he still came up short, thus he could never really take all those anti mutant groups with their picket signs designed to administer hate with words that hurts worse than a jab from Juggernaut, and had it not been for his fellow mutants to offer him some encouragement, some motivation, some sense of hope for a better future, he would have given up a long time ago,

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but I always wonder If he would go to the X Men mansion, in his room, sit on his bed,

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alone

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in the dark.

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I wonder if he reflects and ask himself, why people hate what they don't understand constantly being called a freak. But he counter attacked that notion by considering himself a hero, but heroes are the ones that torment themselves the most. And what's worse, he can't remember his past

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sounds familiar, but he built a false sense of pride for his animanium skeleton, his ability to rapidly heal, but his inability to die takes him further away from his connection of being human, because he's committed suicide every time the sun settled down for slumber, but he could only stare at the crimson red waltzing down his claws caused immediately his wounds with clothes. The pain from his puncture is only temporary, but the pain of not knowing who he is feels like a shotgun blast to his soul. But I just want Wolverine to know I understand, and to tell him that sometimes roses do grow in dark places, and that martyrs never asked to die for this purpose, but I know he prayed to die for not understanding his but Wolverine, my brother, you're no different than us, hitting what you don't understand, trying to figure out where you came from, but here with the purpose you're not sure of. And Wolverine, I know you're not sure if there's a God, because you look at us and wonder if we're made in God's image. Whose image are mutants made?

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I know you feel like a clock without a craftsman. So you curse us because you feel that God showed us favor, but those people with those picket signs curse you because you favor God, because even when you're disappointed in us, you protect us. You're invincible, indestructible, Wolverine, if you only knew how much we want to be like you, because we do everything we can to figure out ways to live longer, to heal faster, it's our inability to understand that everything comes with a price. Every gift is not wrapped in a nice box with the ribbon. Sometimes they appear as aluminum claws piercing through skin, a skull that can take a bullet and a soul without a clue of its origin. Ironically, my friend, we're just like you, because you're confused on what to do, questioning your existence, confused of your purpose, sometimes wanting to die, never giving yourself a chance to see.

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How great you can be.

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And that sounds familiar,

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I like to express my truth as I hydrate your soul with poetic flows, I rise, I heal, I feel your spirit break past the empathetic orders to your essence. Do you know you're great? The world is late at your recognition, but not I. I dignify you, and I vibrate higher too. I meditate with roots and see seeds sprout. We trees in the eyes of God and of God in the eyes of myself. Self, love is the epitome of happiness. You are blessed. And let knowledge be your lessons. Dirt. I question and everything just manifesting in your presence. I move forward broken pieces because I shine bright like the glorious sun in the summer time, I'm feeling mighty fine with my rhymes, words and body, the growth of your spirit. Can you feel it? That's the vulnerability. Talking walls coming down. I see your soul cry. Get high in tune, just like rain splatters at your edge. Let the tears guide you to streams of successes. You're the best ever yet to become better than your mama. Make her proud, wear your crown. Loud, speak bold volumes of wisdom, because the kids listening. Can you see the broken homes in their eyes? Communities dying, the papers lying, but stay true, Pinky promises to contracts. Bring black back, perpetrating from those you appropriate. Ain't that crazy. Remember where you came from, your past and your future is Unison in the face of the present. Make it fierce into blessings. I speak for those who voice got lost in the wind, I hear your soul. You're not wrong, united in being more than a statistic. Shaking my body for riches. Ain't my vibe. I mellow to bad dude and light my sage, old age, young spirit, I know better. I write poems to my ancestors to let them know I got them and affirm their abundance. I spit balls from my hood spread love. It's the Brooklyn way bigs in my spirit. Homage through art is how I pay. Dreams are rooted from pain. I'm not in this for fame, but to help my home, young sister, alone, single mama, make it ends meet, struggling artists striving beyond feet, pop stars so his son can eat. Speak for the little ones. Bullets more abundant than books. You're not just your looks. I walk the road. Let's travel to shy light in dark spaces. I love melanin faces. I want my people to win, as I just do. I admire how you heal. Reflection of how I heal too. I sit with purple stars at night. Journals to journeys. I wish positive mental minds freedoms from the confines of judgment. I wish you what I wish minds, eternal peace. Keep yourself at ease and just flow. It's lay so,

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it's lay so

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before we go, I would like to conclude with the final power message to uplift each and every listener and to get you in a good airspace. It's a message about maintaining a healthy mind. Never focus on others fortunes. This could lead to envy, jealousy. It's only a waste of time polluting the mind to where you lose direction, to your destination. Everyone's path is different. You will fail, dwelling on someone else's stay locked in, stay in your lane, and within time, you'll reach your destiny. Thanks for tuning in to next man up, portrait, motion, I am Donovan Lee ding, to see my inspirational and poetry reels, you can go to YouTube at Donovan Lee ding. Also, you can find my poetry books, children's books and coloring books on Amazon under my name, Donovan Lee ding, I am Donovan Lee ding, actor, Author and rhythmic poet until next time.

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Hey, drive you

Transcribed by https://otter.ai