Whose Flag?

Whose Flag?


Whose Flag? The flag that ignited the Trail of Tears and condemned my Native American Ancestors far from their Promised Land?

The Flag that ignited Manifest Destiny and stole, robbed, cheated and raped millions of Indigenous peoples to broken treaties, destruction and death.

The Flag that ignited the slave ships of the Middle Passage where my African Ancestors were kidnapped from the Motherland. Denied their heritage. Their religion. Their customs and traditions.  And what of those thrown overboard as so much excess baggage.  Or the others who jumped rather than condemn generations to slavery and Jim Crow.

The Flag that ignited the Dred Scott decision telling us we are only 3/5ths of a man? Where are we in the signing of the Declaration of Independence? Do you see any Native or African Americans in those paintings? Not even any women!  So do we salute a flag, a symbol of colonialism, slavery, Jim Crow and racism? Since we were not included by the Founding Fathers most of whom were slave owners?


Do we honor a flag that forced my parents, grandparents and great-grandparents to get off the sidewalk when white people approached? Get to the back of the bus. Settle for sub-standard schools and housing. Forced sterilization which was done throughout the Southern Bible Belt states.

The flag of Dixie-crat racist Strom Thurmond whose death revealed the Black Daughter he had kept hidden for nearly 70 years?

Read the story of Fanny Lou Hamer one of the Mothers of the Civil Rights Movement.





What of our white Sisters and brothers like Murders of Chaney, Goodman, and Schwerner up to and including Heather Heyer? White Americans who fought evil and lost their lives. Does the flag represent them?

Does this flag represent the two Indian engineers who were murdered or the Chinese doctor who was dragged from his airplane seat?

Did that flag represent the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882.



What of the Japanese Americans who were stripped of all their worldly goods and sent to camps just because they resembled the enemy?  And By the Way who is our enemy?

What of the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama–a church with a predominantly black congregation that served as a meeting place for civil rights leaders where  Four young girls were brutally killed.

What of the the nine who were murdered last year in South Carolina during a Bible study by one whom they welcomed as a fellow Christian but who turned out to be a demon.

Tell me again why I should put my hand over my heart or in my case salute since I am a U.S. Army Veteran for this flag. This flag who denied my Korean War Veteran Dad who was in uniform and hungry. Who tried to get a hot dog and the white man said we don’t serve Niggers?

Tell me why this flag and this country whom my Great, Great Grandfather William Henry Halstead who fought in the Civil War still denies it’s promise to me and all his descendants?

Did and was this flag the covering for the slave master who barged into my Great, Great, great, great Grandmother’s slave cabin late at night and forced himself on her?

Did and was this flag the covering and excuse for the Married Redneck Drill Sgt coming to my barracks and calling my name after hours?

Tell me again why we honor this flag and why does this cloth not live up to it’s promise to ALL Americans?









It’s My House & I Live Here

Don’t Come for Me because I’m not afraid to Rock that Orange Jumpsuit!!

You can’t agree with everyone and you won’t but if something upsets you that badly there is always the Unsubscribe, Restrict, Block, UnFriend, or UnFollow options!! Sometimes I do make general observations about what I see on Facebook or Social Media in general but believe me I’m not losing any sleep over what you or anyone else posts. Why? Because I will kick you to the curb in a hot minute before I allow anything to interfere with my ability to eat, sleep or carry on my daily activities. I have and will continue to Delete Off-base Comments at My discretion. Why? Because this is my Blog.

It’s My House & I Live Here! (Apologies to Diana Ross.) Unfortunately I must disable comments on any type of political or racial blog posts because of the haters, flamers & trolls. Not trying to hear asshole bullshit.

There is no reason for arguments and twisted dialogue trying prove me wrong and you right. I’ve noticed over the last six years I usually get a lot of bullshit comments and just plain stupid ass statements when I post something concerning race relations in the United States. Obviously or maybe it isn’t to some narrow minded people my perspective is that of a Black Woman in America. Emphasis on Black.  On that note given what has been going on in the USA over the last few weeks I’ve made some decisions to be part of the solution.

Joined the NAACP

Make small donations to Black Lives Matter. Yes I unashamedly support the Movement. Don’t Like it. Lump it or follow the previous instructions. Close the door on your way out.

I have a thick skin. Keep in mind working in a white environment. Living in a white country if I took to heart every insult, slight, just plain dumbass statement that white people make I would have committed suicide a long time ago. However everyone who knows me that if you step to me I don’t back down from a challenge. Very few people mess with me without experiencing some sort of consequence. I’m peaceful up to a point. My parents did not raise a doormat. Being a Christian does not make me a push-over nor will it silence my voice. It’s not all peace, love and light with me. Get. Over. It.  My circle is small and I keep it that way.

This is My House and I Live Here!!

BTW being Pro-Black does not mean being anti-white. It does mean looking out for your own people in world where any one of us can be executed, exterminated or annihilated at the whim of sadistic police.  Cops who have been given a free pass to do away with an entire race just based on their biased stereotypes. Cops who know that there will be no consequences for their actions. They may get put on some type of administrative leave but they still collect their paychecks while those Black families who lost their Loved ones struggle to bury them, take care of children left behind and must live with a hole in their hearts forever.  My house is on fire so I must take action.

Racism has been real for me my entire life. From the day I was sussed to white school and sat next to a red haired white kid and the first word out of his mouth was nigger to a few years ago when a white co-worker attempted to assault me at the job. Thanks to my U.S. Army training I got the guy off me.

It’s real people. It’s real. That white co-worker after threatening another white co-worker was “allowed” to retire. That means he can come back to the job anytime. That means next time might be my last time.

Will there be a hue and cry from white America if I disappeared from the scene. Honestly. No. Just like on Sunday white people will go to their respective churches. Worship a white Jesus and go on with their lives. After all Black Lives have No Value in America. Stone. Cold. Hard. Honest. Truth.


Black Lives Matter

Kevin Hart INSPIRATIONAL Interview At The Breakfast Club Power 105.1 (6/10/2016)


Baby Boy

He looked like an Angel albeit a broken Angel splayed out on the cold marble floor. His head at angles with his twisted body along with his staring unseeing eyes extinguished any hope that the embers of life still burned within him.  The earth came up to meet him and swallowed him into the heavens.  The Benjamins make a poor parachute.

Cupid shot by his own Arrow.
Cupid shot by his own Arrow.


Baby Boy

Baby Boy Got $200 sneakers as a reward for cussing the teachers and failing in school. Teacher or principals fault. Grades all F but it ain’t me you fucked up can’t you see! School’s for Fools. Some place I don’t want to be.

Baby Boy he never wrong. They got it all mixed up seeing me strong. Y’all know I’m the King of my crew. God’s Gift to everything.

But in the back of your head all you can see is yo’ no count Daddy, welfare system and crackhead Momma staring back in the mirror saying you gonna be like me.

Hanging out in the upper class nabe with my hoodrat crew. See a few things I wanna take. Wait a minute! What’s that I hear! A siren in back of me. Starting to fear. Next thing I’m on Lock down in Juvie Hall. Where my crew at now when as I’m taking this fall.

Baby boy lying in a ditch. Worse off than being a Snitch. Off to Rikers’ to be somebody’s Bitch. Baby Boy. You Done. You Done.


His rhymes had got him to the big time. Opened new doors of upper class vice and sin. The immoralities of the 1%. I gazed at my son from the balcony of one of the greatest art institutions in the city seeing not the young man who had entered the 27 Club of the Immortals but every little boy running up and down Linden Blvd., Jamaica Avenue, Fulton Street or Sedgwick Avenue running to be the next 50 cent or Jay-Z finding fame and winding up on 27 Jump Street misjudging the doubles lives one foot in the hood and the other on Central Park West or the Upper East Side seeking Hipster fame and validation.

Jump my Son/Sun. Jump out of your dreams and into Eternity.

Return of the Prodigal Daughter: Series Three



Return of the Prodigal Daughter: Series Three

Saga of JoyBaieda Rueine


924 Belmont Avenue ~~ Brooklyn, New York


Once the Amusement activities ended thus began Winged Garuda who brought the Initiatory Tones. Twinned Flutists paired one higher in elevation than the other but each in sync with the other. Kinship of the Elder lifts up and protects the younger. Beginning One Pulse. Pause. Two Pulse. Pause. Half Pulse. End. In this way the meeting place and all in attendance were Blessed.

Le Gui and Laila Piscatorious miraged upon the scene bringing with them their aquatic environment in suspended animation above the group.  In his seductive voice with a grin and a chuckle Le Gui announced Representatives from Mer-Land All Present and Accounted For!”

Mer-Land was once a Dominion called Coney Island.  Now a bit split off from the mainland but still essential to the Lands.  Each district of Mer-Land was governed by it’s own unique Merlin.  Dominions. Territories. Districts.  Orderly Chaos. That was the 22nd Century.



My Heart is in Havana  

 Quantico and Flowering Inferno 


In the midst of the work who should tumble out of the ether but Sir Frederick! He landed rather ungracefully with big Kaflump!  Sir Frederick or Rick as he liked to be called seemed a bit startled looking out of place in an area where he had not expected to be. As though he was in the midst of one action and quite suddenly lifted into another.

“I felt the pull through the process of flow but tried to put it off on finishing that last Cheesy fries which were not sitting well and at war with my digestive system.   Yours is the strongest power of Realization I’ve met in over 100 years.”

I had used all my Initiation Tone to draw forth all strong enough to meet the challenge.



Some only saw him as a fop or a dandy but within lay the intellect of many genius and the strength of multiple Warriors.  In secret a Scarlet Pimpernel and Zorro of bronzed sepia hues.


Fredrick H. Halstead_Sept. 6, 1898_Little's Brother
Fredrick H. Halstead_Sept. 6, 1898

Agile | The Daily Post





The last time that I was super Agile was back in my Army Days.  I was extremely agile and in excellent physical condition.  Anything that the Army demanded or need to do physically I could do it.  Those were my glory days.  Even after I got out of the Army in Nov. 1981 I was still in great shape. This continued well into my early 40s.  I did have the beginnings of arthritis but except for menstrual cramps and sometimes acne I was in fantastic condition.



During my late 30s and early 40s I had the strength and energy to earn my BA in English from Marymount Manhattan College.  I Was Powerful!!



Fast forward to Nov. 2008 — Stroke.  Actually I probably was having small strokes beginning at age 47.  My vision was off and but I still continued to drive and made believe that I was okay.  At the time I was unemployed so No health insurance therefore No doctors.  Jan. 2008 I started working at the museum and had a stroke while at work. My bosses forced me to go to the hospital. I lost most of the vision in my left eye. I won’t go into the ugly details.

This was the end of my Agility.

Either last week or two weeks ago I was nearly pushed down the subway steps.  This is one of my greatest fears since I have very poor depth perception. Usually when I get off the train I wait for the maddening crowds to go up the stairs first.  Actually this near fall down the subway steps occurred when I was going down the steps not up but either way I leave early for work then step to the side because people are always in a mad rush!  Also now I have shortness of breath so I need to rest before going up or down stairs/steps.

Over the years I’ve come to hate all stairs and steps.  My ideal dream would be to live in a place with just ramps or on one level.  The Aging process is slowly but surely taking away my ability to do the things I want to do.  Therefore the older I get the less I socialize and tend to stay home on weekends especially in the winter when falling is a major concern. Next month I’ll be 59 and I will be staying safe at home!

The Death of Agility.











Secrets and Murders in the Blue Room






Secrets of the Blue Room

Magnificent Bed Chambers built for the Arousal of a King who never came.  At least not in this bed.  Many were the amusements of the Monarch. Well known for spreading his seed in every village, town and port of call.  Awaiting his Majesty to Christen the springs in hopes of numerous heirs to the throne.

Though tis rumored that the Lord and Lady of the Original House were murdered in said bed. No Scarlet Pimpernel arrived for their rescue. For the mark of Zorro heralded their demise.

Two Old Grandfather Clocks Chime quarter hours slightly off sync in Church fashion of Call and Response

First Off I don’t know why they built and shipped such an ornate bed a blue monstrosity to this hot dank humid climate?  The Humidity cloaks the atmosphere like a Misty Foggy blanket. These islands are just swamps inhabited by misery and strife. Trying to make good impressions long after the opportunity has passed.

The sheer fragility makes one hesitant to mix sweat and semen.  The languid heat infuses already heavy air pushing aside lust in favor of a cook refreshing draft.

Rot and insects will have a better time conducting ultimate deconstruction within weak timbers. It’s untold comforts belie creakiness and stiff joints.

More of a Silky Satiny Blue Mausoleum than a Lovers Nest. A place for ravens and crows to pluck out the feathers, straw and hay hidden within the fancy done up mattress. No Scions of Industries conceived upon such extravagance and Luxury. Yet Musky aromas abound.  Time Traveling Hobos and Vagabonds wander through the past occasionally sticking their heads out into the present.  Shadows ache from moving sloth-like across the walls. Their progress impended lights and darkness.



















Diorama | Panorama Written Pictures



People Who Burn Brightly Die Quickly


Pain is a Living Creature penetrating every orifice

I was thrown out of the garden  while the Dead mock the Living

Harsh Faces ~~ Satin Souls

Somebody pass the Blood for the Unleavened Bread

Oh it was a Grand Funeral!  The hearse was covered with flowers yards deep that traffic stopped for crowded Internal rain drops

Bursting forth Waterfalls filled with limbs and fins

She was an untidy rambling garden slightly unhinged with the gate left open








Lena Horne “Stormy Weather”

Film Noir Brooklyn Style 


Film Noir Brooklyn Style 


1950s revisited in 2018


Foggy Misty Rainy Early Morning around 1:30 am Along Rockaway Avenue Between Fulton and Hull Streets


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Devil in a Blue Dress

Denzel Washington starred as Easy Rawlins which was originally based on a detective book by Walter Mosley




Cotton Comes to Harlem Official Trailer #1 – Raymond St. Jacques Movie (1970) HD