Answers to some this Q: What makes your service or product valuable.

I am so glad you asked.This is how I answered the query.

​I am a wordsmith, poet, spoken word artist, and singer/song writer. I create and add value to the arts in the city. I convey a message of love, piece and hope. I put into words what others feel in their hearts. I teach about the African Diaspora experience. I am clear about my vision as an artist and I enable people to experience the humanities through my visions of artfulness. It is my aim to bring stories about me personal experiences and the greater community out of obscurity. Some of my work focuses on the issues of injustice in our society, some of my work presents historical art work of others that have contribute immensely to our Diaspora experience, but little is known or discussed about their artistic contributions; such as blacks who were Hitlers victims and survived Nazi concentration camps. I am here to raise awareness and of my culture; use my voice so that the masses are knowledgable and can seek peace for the greater good.

Good Morning America

Good Morning America
(in my Bernie MC voice, I surely do miss him)

America we are head for the brink of disaster if we don’t get our priorities in order.

Humanity is the only thing that will keep us growing, thriving and surviving.

That thing that we all are looking for is love.

Its the thing that comes for above.

Above the madness the clouds are nothing existent

Good Morning America, rise to the occasion of forgiveness

Admit your mistakes and you will grow in grace.

Our children deserve a chance to run in a race free of hatred, bigoted scenery

Good morning America, when to bombs bust in the air, no-one will care.

“What set you from, your klan, creed or the color of your skin.”

There are not lethal weapons that just take out the poor and leave the rich behind

Wake up America from the sleep on mediocracy and advance in the dance of discovering other space and times.

Good morning my sweet land of freedom rining from the majestic hill tops of Georgia

Good morning America from the shores of the Pacific beaches that are nestled in the Arcadia of the oranges groves past

Good Morning America (to Be continues)

Slaves No More

I am excited about my opportunity to share my poetry @ that launch of Rise, an Anthology of poets from the Los Angeles area. Here I have put excepts from my poem, Slaves No More printed in the Anthology edited by Mark Lipman.

Our humanity is in our DNA

Our dignity tossed overboard by the meat ships that sailed the Atlantic

“No more weeping and a wailing. . .” freedom physically for us has arrived.

Our suffering  now is of an intellectual and spiritual kind.

What would Nat Turner, who led rebellion in 1839, say to our black young folks today?

“Your freedom came at a very high cost, but some yawl still choosing to be lost!

We still live like we’re not oppressed in a land; marginalized by bad water and police brutality.

The shackles on our mind is slavery; the overseer, mass communications

Steals the soul and exploits our Nubian minds, sells our souls up the rivers of destructive imaging.

Dresses up and pants down is an indication that our self-esteem ground level thinking.

Black men stop generically stop labeling black women hoes, the commodity of capitalism that is not the true meaning of Hip Hop.

You guest it the rest is in Ashay Speaks!

Beyond Baroque

681 N. Venice Blvd.

Los Angeles, CA 90804




This is an update about my coming book. I am so excited.

Today is also a day that I write a poem.


The thing that is most dangerous are unmet expectations.

Let them go with each breath that you take .

Expecting something that will make everything alright eats at the soul.

Let them dissolve into the ether of forgiveness.

Let serenity nature the anticipation of the unknown.

Expect nothing of anyone with the anticipation of waiting for yours to come.

Life will bring balance in the corridors of willingness.

My Beloved

In September 2014, my life came crashing down. I lost my beloved daughter, Marian Monique “Mimi” English. She was born January 22, 1977. So, I am thinking about her today as her natal birthday approaches. This is what emerges out of the ashes of my grief.

I could cry for a thousand years

Tears could not covey deep sorrow’s painful howls.

I felt them when I lost you.


My heart possessed the joy of comprehending the gate of separation.

The sting of death will never immobilize my love for you.

Captured in  memories are the essence of family;

United in ancestry that lives on forever in history.

Time stand on the cliff of Infinite wisdom.

I cling to the hope that someday we’ll meet again.

Far beyond physical dimensions of time. . . .