Author: Pharaoh Robinson

Watch the booktrailer for "Chokolate" & download Sexsensaul eBook (PDF)!

2011-12-28T13:08:00.000-08:00

"Chokolate"
by
Pharaoh Robinson

The Official Book Trailer

Sexsensual eBook
(pdf)

Is now available for your reading pleasure

on your laptop/pc right here from my blog spot!!!

PURCHASE HERE

Download and for best reading/view of this PDF ebook use your mobile phone or eReader use these FREE APPS!!!:

Android Market: Adobe Reader App. - $FREE

iPad & iPhone Users: PDF Reader Lite - $FREE

New Kindle Edition !!!
Sexsensual

Click Here: http://amzn.to/uulFf2

Author Website: http://www.sexsensual.biz/

Follow @Pharaoh78

Dirty Diana

2011-11-30T21:33:00.000-08:00

"I decided that night to never again hide her. I had release her and hope he would not judge me or run from me. I had to force him to accept this piece, this intricate part of me I buried deep inside and played the homely wife. Never again after tonight.” – Dirty Dana

“Help!

Somebody help me!” Michael’s breathing was deep and full of the unknown. His
breathing was laced with fear. He struggled against the restraints that were secured around his wrist and ankles bounding him to what seemed to be a chair. The blind fold was tight around his
eyes; he could only see the extremely dim lighting of what seemed to be the
fireplace.

“Help!

Why the hell am I naked! What the…” Michael’s baritone voice.

“Michael..Michael...”

“Who’s there? Who are you?” Michael questioned.

“Calm down Michael. It is ok baby. I need you to just relax.”

The click-clack of her heels neared from behind. Michael’s head swiveled to follow and find
the direction from where the approaching heels were coming.
The voice echoed carrying into the room. Her near-naked body was laced only with a silk white robe and black high heels. Slowly she dropped the robe as if he could see her. Slowly she admired her rising nipples one by one. The slurping sound could be heard and she savored her own plump nipple that sagged slightly back into place each time and moaned. She traced her nails across his head slowly, palmed his cheeks and then slowly dragged her nails down his neck and
chest, then caressed his still half hard dick that pulsated.

“I had to do it this way. I want….and need you to understand me.”

The woman stated as she licked her lips and freed her jet black silk mane that flow effortless to the middle of her back. Her coal black skin defied midnight and glimmered with oiled curves.

“Kara is that you? What the…what is this shit?” The curiosity rose in his nervous voice.

“Why the hell am I tied up and naked in a damn chair? Where am I? What is this about? You better…”

The slap paused him mid-speech knocking the rest of the sentence and thought from
his head. She gripped his cheeks to listen

“You are in my world. Do you understand? This is about me, baby. I have to give or should I say show you someone. Now, you need to be a good boy, you might like her, maybe not. Frankly
she doesn’t give a fuck.”

She was leaning in his ear. Her voice was different; intense, controlling, and seductive. She took her tongue bringing his ear lobe into her mouth.

“Show me who? What’s wrong with you? You need talk to me, Kara.”

The crackling fire was the only sound filling the room. Her nipples were hard. The occasional caressing sensation only erected them more. The slick nectar would cool on her inner thighs as she moved around him. Her heels clicked and clacked against the hardwood floors.
There was momentary silence. Kara slowly straddled her husband’s legs and began to massage her clit slowly. Moaning she took the wetness, traced his lips once more and took her finger and sucked the remaining juices into her throat savoring her taste. He licked his lips and she slapped his face hard. It echoed throughout the room.

“What in the hell was that for? Shit.” Michael steamed and fought against his
restraints. He bucked his hips to no avail.

“Awww you don’t like it. Or should I say her.” Kara snickered, gripping his face with
her left hand and his warm manhood in her right… enough to take control.

“She gets better you’ll see.”

She dragged the flat of her tongue across his cheeks and kissed him deep forcefully
dancing her tongue into his mouth. The kiss calmed him momentarily. The confusion and shock seemed to take his body. Kara caressed his now hard manhood with her hand stroking it.

“Yes, relax this is will be painless. Unless you make it otherwise.”

“You…you not going to hurt me are you…baby?” his anxiety stricken voiced asked.

An evil grin surfaced over Kara’s face as she stared at her helpless lover. Her pussy pulsated at the power she had imposed on his six foot four Adonis-like brownish bronze frame. Ignoring his plea, she released his face. Bending down, animalistic she snarled as she took him in whole, her tongue against the flat of his scrotum and slurped up. She drooled and slurped leaving the tip of his dick with a plop from her lips as she moaned. Again she straddled him looking down at her saliva drenched work. Michael stared up at her with the blind-fold like he could see.

“You don’t even like doing that.”

“I don’t but she does. You just never let me do it her way.” Kara said massaging her clit and tasting herself. Her hips moved and vibrated as she got louder.

“I hid her.” She moaned, removing her hand and sucked her fingers clean.

“I kept her away from you.” She moaned and sopped her fingers hungrily again.

“Hid who? Who baby?”

“I hid her all this time, thinking you would…” Kara screamed and moaned.

“What the hell? What is that?”

“It’s her. It’s all her!” she screamed and groaned out.

The hot fluid spewed across Michael’s chest, spackling his face, running down his legs. He could feel her vibrating body as she screamed and release the warm fluid all over him again.

“What the…is that piss? This is crazy!”

~Slap!~

“Don’t fucking judge me.”

The stinging reverberated as he spoke shutting his words off mid-sentence again.

“Don’t ever judge us again. No, that was her. Talking to you, saying everything I have always wanted to and held back.”

Kara’s legs collapsed and sat straddling her husband. She gripped his head and shook him.

“I love you. She loves you. But you have to learn to let us be…and love us.”
She pressed her breast against his wet chest. Michael manhood was throbbing, his mind was perplexed. She gripped his fever-pitch rigid dick and, with her other hand, she traced his lips with her juices. She stared into his eyes with false impunity. She kissed him deep working her tongue in her husband’s mouth deeply moaning. He wanted to retreat, but he was completely consumed by the event taking place that moment. Her actions and words had complete control over him. He wanted answers. Kara descended to her knees and pulled Michael’s hips to the edge of the chair. She gazed at him while doing so.

“You will enjoy this maybe” She smirked.

Kara stared at Michael’s dick licking her lips. He stared wondering what was to come next. He was quiet. He was tamed. Kara took his hard dick deep in her throat winding her neck ever so slowing enjoying it in muffled moans. She stayed down deep on his dick working her tongue against the base of his shaft and upper portion of his balls. Her mouth watered releasing her saliva from the corners of mouth. She took her free hand and began massaging his hardened prostate with her fingers. Finally, she pulled her head up gasping in enjoyment.

“You taste delicious, so thick… so long.” She panted not bothering to wipe the flowing juices from her glazed mouth. Without warning she slid down again.

“Oh Shit” slipped from Michael’s lips again.

Again, she slurped viscously at her husband’s dick. Her fingers moved up and down against his prostate. She pulled away licked her middle finger and pressed it against his rectum.

“What are you…”

Kara shut off her husband’s words mid-sentence once more, engulfing his manhood in one swallow. This time, long stroking it until the tip dangled from throat her lips, pulling her finger half way out, then as she engulfed him again she slid it back in. This unknown, never-before-felt
sensation was new, violating, and somewhat irresistible in pleasure for Michael.

“Oh ma gosh.” Michael dropped his head back in sexual confusion.
Kara worked her head with abandon as if her life depended on it. Michael’s body began to vibrate. He could the beat of his heart in his own ears: words he formed that didn’t make sense in
his throat. Kara removed her mouth and kept stroking her finger in him.

“You like it.”

“No.” Michael bucked his hips in agreement.

~Slap!!~

“Yes. No I like it” He nodded in submission “No I don’t. I don’t.”

Kara slurped just the head of Michael’s dick, snaking her lips deeper each time. Michael groaned pressing deep inside her penetrating new places of climax. He began bucking into Kara’s mouth,
her eyes watered. She wouldn’t pull away or released his manhood from her throat. She was too excited. Her body, like Michael’s was present, but her mind was off somewhere deep in the realm of passion and pleasure. Her orgasm this time was purely cerebral, brought on by the immense satisfaction of her husband’s moans and uncontrollable foreign dialect that made no sense but was clear in connotation. Kara screamed and sucked simultaneously. Her body lost control and spewed juiced in a stream down her butterfly-motion moving legs. Michael’s orgasm was a powerful experience as he released thick watercourse fluid from his pulsating dick down her throat. Michael’s hips jolted in disjointed movements against the restraints, shaking as his toes curled and popped. Kara savored all she could. And what she couldn’t, flowed from the
corner’s of her mouth down her chin as she swallowed her accolades.

“You taste so good baby. We like you. We love the way you taste.” Kara said with a glazed face.

She left nothing to chance hitting the floor as she took her fingers, wiping her chin then savoring the juices from her fingers.

“Kara never swallowed or would do this.” She smirked.

Michael’s head dropped down in mental exhaustion. The energy of his orgasm had sapped him. He panted with no words just breathing. He looked up no longer confused, simple in awe by what
had just taken place. All his questions had been answered. She had blinded-folded him so he could see.

“I’m sorry if I never saw who you were, or made you feel like you could not be you. All of you.” he stated bewildered at his own epiphany in the moment.

“I will leave you now my love. And anytime, I mean anytime you want to meet her.” Kara said taking her hand and rubbing her clit, then tasting herself.

“We will be here all night, just call out “Dirty Diana.”

“Just be naked in that chair sitting waiting. And asked for Diana…Dirty Diana.”

“She will be there in charge and coming to take you there…”

“Kara? Are you going to untie me?” Michael asked sitting there in the dark in front of the fireplace. His body glowed with a slick coat of sweat.

Kara began walking upstairs her long sexy curvy silhouette in stride adjacent to her. She turned and smiled.

“Who’s Kara?”

Marvin's Room: Fed Up Boyfriend

2011-10-19T15:25:00.000-07:00

Marvin's Room: Fed Up Boyfriend

The next time he call let me answer the phone, and say
She den’ found better, stop whining, 8 page letter, No Aliyah
No she’s not coming, just like when she was with you, not coming
Now from me she seems to keep running,
and screaming she can’t stop coming
Men like you got no pride, wonder why women keep backing away,
they see feminine insides, look at your DNA, you written in bitch
I’m just staying, fuck you nigga, she den found better,
that was real talk I hope your homeboys heard that
Now I’ll starting hating as soon as you stop faking, never that
I’ll just keeping taking her to places so deep, I am the abyss in this,
too far for her to look back and the only time she looks back
is when I'm hitting from the back

Now she den found a good guy, with a lil bad guy, lovin her gentleman thug
Love it when she bite the sheets, look back and say go HAM
Now you was just calling, I was just pleasing
I make love to her mind, then she touches herself
She just came I hope didn’t hear that, no I hope you heard that
We had sex four times and that's just today
Yesterday we found out something new
she pushed me off and said she was about to spray

Love to the see the expression up on your face
So you should just move on…and fuck you nigga,
this is Marvin, so save yaself or kill yaself and move on
She den found, I do it better, now get off the phone
and watch me work in the video sent to your iPhone

S.Q.U.I.R.T.

2011-08-24T14:45:00.000-07:00

S.Q.U.I.R.T.

Spray my face nectar sweet, trickling down my chin

Quench my thirst; clinch my tongue as I lick vertical lips in reverse

Unwind your vocal cords, scream and strip your throat, squeal until verbally hoarse

Invoke your hips until you pulsate, rotation until your legs vibrate, kegal me continuously

Revolve your pelvis until your orgasm evolves; speaking in tongues in the language of come

Thrust until you cuss, salivate and seethe, clinch and release balled fist until you cease to exist…

Siphoning the sap from your roots nuzzled in your bush, with humidity sticky on my lips, nectars dew

Que your vertical lips vocal cords to sing, pulsating diaphragm rhythmically push me away and pull back

Unintentionally you shudder, language lost you stutter, as your legs flutter, my head your thighs wrap

Ironically this is tragic comedy, as you cry, happy with the ending, this addiction is just the beginning

Resuscitation of your fever, I orchestrate oral addiction, licking you physically I control you mentally

Treason in multiplicity, under my control, you squirt allegiance to me, you scream I pledge to thee

Copyright@Pharaoh.Robinson2009

I Make Love To: Saartjie “Sarah” Baartman

2011-03-07T08:05:00.001-08:00

She is chocolate milk
My thick heavenly silk
Don’t reduce an ounce of her fat
Give me my Africa in jet black
I love her Cape Coast alpha curves
Take my tongue across her sweetest nerves
I kiss those places, where they made fun of her

Black labia clamshell black pearl
Plump dark nipple relaxed and ripe
I take in my mouth and suckle Eros
No media attention or followers needed
Never oversexed
She and I make love without sex
Rhythmically rolling her hips
Sweet watermelon full lips as she walks

When I can’t have her
I dream her up in variations
Softly eating caramel pussy on a stick
Riding red bones highs deep into my nights
I rub down southern brown earth-tone thighs
Tonight I am naked with a big beautiful mulatto
Last night black coal kaleidoscope legs wrap me
’til I begged

Sometimes we are Congo-drums
That dance with rhythmical feet
In mystical dirt sweaty and beautiful until it hurts Beating bodies coming until we hum
I make love to it, I make love to her
I make love to them
Round full lips, rotund black hips
Until they sashay and sway soulfully away

We make sextory, birthing exotic little stories
In multiple shades of beautiful black
You are the naked history lost
Due to sticky pages over the ages
Swallowing the heart of many men

Silently men fantasized from multiple nations
With exotic curiosity that sped the hearts velocity
Going on mental sexual vacation to your places
To make love to the daughters
That I love, and hold up above

I say again with mental images of over-curved
Black beauties with sexual nerve that unearth
Walking around with the world on their backs

I make love to it, I make love to her
I make love to them
I make love to the daughters of Saartjie Baartman

©2010 PharaohRobinson

CLIMAX PILL

2010-12-30T19:08:00.000-08:00

Take me at your own risk
And let me be your narcoleptic narcotic
Of screaming impaired double vision climax
Your sweet deviation of cataplexy sexual seizures
Slurping you into slurred speech of subdued context

Clutch your legs with pre-cream conditions
Then play me back to experience me in renditions
Ignore your conscience pleading you to leave this bad habit be
I am the hot delirium that makes your pussy convulse and hallucinate
You are not crazy when you hear talking voices from between your legs

Midnight whispers that break you off in your sleep
Hot flashes as your body thrashes, fucking my shadow to sleep
Through the idiomatic actor inside of you indoctrinate yourself repeatedly with me
Oppressed silhouettes in dream state, exploit your nights as you find sexual freedom
Wet windowpane invisible images of me, your sweet rain man you Kegel me like your hand

You see, I am your Sexsensual psycho Eros Therapist
Disabling your paranoia feeding multiple-orgasmic cornucopia
Chills run deep with orgasm-amphetamine that squirts compulsively
Substance abuse screams with tactile twitches of Schizophrenic pussy lips
I am your body’s perfectionist, as I stroke you; you are habitually addicted to me

PURPLE PUSSY BLUES

2010-12-30T19:06:00.001-08:00

She is electric guitar string legs
Wrapped around juke joint smoke
Dancing on Love Street in black sweat
Purple pussy rhythms on a mahogany stick
She is corn whiskey strong Chicago cold syrup thick

“I sing her purple pussy blues and drink her rhythm 'til I’m drunk”

She’s my drunk drum-set, beaded doorway blues
Beating black molasses asses, thick as cold syrup
She is the epitome, my midnight song
Black snake moan bring it home
She is the sensuous suck
Amorphously contorting me
She is everything I can’t hold

“I sing her purple pussy blues and drink her rhythm 'til I’m drunk”

She is southern vertical lips
My Miss Mississippi moonshine
Tantalizing ass
Eyes open wide
When I lick it from behind
She is sweet liquefied
Ceaseless
Sanctified satisfaction
When she throws’ it back
I might change my last name
To her last name
Just call me
Mr. Jackson

“I sing her purple pussy blues and drink her rhythm 'til I’m drunk”

Pharaoh Robinson Delivers A Good Book!

2010-09-20T13:06:00.000-07:00

The New Face Of Erotica

Pharaoh Robinson delivers the book “Sexsensual” to women of color that uplifts, nurtures, and sexually praises their sensuality and sexuality. He strips media driven images of what shade of black is beautiful, lyrically making love to every shade of black in unimaginable ways. He manages to talk to women through a deep portrait painted in eclectic erotic mental stimulation that is both fantasy and very human. Reading “Sexsensual” at times you feel transported, his words tickle your spine, or drizzle down your leg if you will. He permeates femininity with the sexual reciprocity from his open erotic masculinity. He is the erotic, romantic, loving, woman’s man, and masculinity black literature has been missing. You fall in love with his words and your sexuality at the same time.

Through poetry Pharaoh speaks to the mind, body, and soul. He navigates through your mind deviling and undressing your most intimate erotic inhibitions. Giving women the courage and power to unleash sexual egos, alter egos, and open creativity. He even manages to encourage men to give power to women to be sexually liberated and free.

Pharaoh Robinson is erotica at it’s best, unique, lyrically canning, and truly one of a kind in poetry and literature. He is nothing short of “Sexsensual”.

Sexsensual Live

2010-03-10T12:33:00.000-08:00

My New Online Video Show!

On UStream.com

Sexsensual Live!

VIEWING:

Watch the show live on Ustream.com
Just search the word: SEXSENSUAL

Join and chat with others in the Sexsensual Chat Room!

On Sexsensual Live we discuss mature topics concerning love, romance, sex, erotica, fetish, sexuality, sensuality, relationships, sexual masculinity and femininity, and much much more!

You can log to Ustream to ask your questions.
Or
You can send me a note Tagged.com
Or
To my Facebook Fan Page during the show as well.

My Facebook Fan Page!!!

2010-01-29T11:13:00.000-08:00

I have recently launched my fan page for the book "Sexsensual" on Facebook!!! I would love to have your support as a fan. You can find me by searching on

Facebook: Pharaoh Robinson

Backcover Synopsis:

“She is electric guitar string legs
Wrapped around juke joint smoke
Dancing on Love Street in black sweat”
–Pharaoh Robinson

Sexsensual is a poetically erotic, powerful, thought provoking journey of fantasy. Taking readers on an extraordinary erotic mental journey that masterfully weaves poetry into sexual fantasy, creativity, love, romance, sensuality, and mental stimulation to create what is called, Sexsensual. Pharaoh Robinson dares to recreate “Black Love” through prose that explores the essence of black male and female sexuality.

This promising, fresh and eclectic masculine voice is what Black erotica and literature has been missing. Pharaoh Robinson is truly one-of-a-kind representing a side of masculinity that is pleasurable and mentally intoxicating. He will transport you to a new world of fantasy past the normal limits of imagination and reality.

“This is only his first book and Pharaoh Robinson delivers one of the most mind-catching erotic bodies of work ever written.” - Indigo Blue, TwitterMugshot

“His poetry is illegal access into the inhibitions of my mind. I love his poetic violation.” -Marsha E, Tagged. com fan

Remember Me

2010-01-12T14:30:00.000-08:00

Let the memories of this night
Dance in your head years from today
Rock with me on the porch grey haired beauty
Smiling a smile, I remember you

See my reflection of sweet confection
Wash those wet dishes with recollection
Smell my cologne and feel our sweet redidition

Whistle that tune, moan those blues
That rocked your thighs, with sweet soul
Remember the poetry of a poem that was physically written

©PharaohRobinson2009

"SEXSENSUAL"
BOOK RELEASE DATE: Valentine's Day Feb. 14th, 2010

Email me at: Pharaoh.Robinson@gmail.com for more information

Black Body Blues

2010-01-04T12:06:00.001-08:00

Black Body Blues

Sweet Southern Belle
Make me yell,
Give me a back alley yell

Stroke the blues in my soul
Kiss me with the rhythm of your hips

Give me that Mo’ Betta
Butter hot melting love
Like no other.

Wrapper your legs around my neck
Savory chocolate, vanillas thighs
Black Tom Cruise lost in heaven
Drownin’ in black skies

Put you root on me
Chalk me with your walk
Shake that chicken leg love
Thick like gumbo, lick the pot love

Stroke the blues in my soul
Kiss me with the rhythm of your hips

Black lovin’
Sweetly drug me silly
Southern heroin in yo’ hips
Soul sista voo-doo black sweat delight

Sweet Southern Belle
Make me yell,
Give me a back alley yell

© Pharaoh.Robinson2009

My 1st Book Interview with Twittermugshot.com

2009-11-12T10:40:00.000-08:00

Artist Spotlight: Black Erotic Poet – Pharaoh Robinson
By

indigobluePublished: November 11, 2009

Black Erotic Author of SexSensual What’s up TwitMUG Fam this is Indigo Blue. As you know Twitter Mugshot keeps you up to date with your favorite Celebrities on Twitter. Today we’re showing luv by bringing you our FIRST EVER TwitterMugShot artist spotlight.

TM: Thank you for taking time out for participating in this interview it’s a pleasure to be able to speak with you today. Let’s go ahead and start with the introductions, please tell us your name.

Pharaoh: Thank you. I write under the pen name Pharaoh Robinson

TM: What’s the meaning of your name? How did you come up with it?

Pharaoh: Pharaohs were strong, powerful kings in Africa. I strive to be that. It was a screen-name for a website I joined about 6-7 years ago called Mochacity.com. I share my poetry on there as well as on yahoo 360. The name stuck and I embraced it.

TM: Where are you from?

Pharaoh: I am originally from Kansas. I relocated in 2004 to D.C. with forty dollars and a suitcase, sleeping on the floor. Humble beginings that left me humble, blessed and motivated.

TM: How long have you been writing poetry in general and erotic poetry?

Pharaoh: I have been writing poetry since my 4th or 5th grade teacher Mrs. Jones introduced poetry to me and gave me the book “Black Like Me” by Howard Johnson. I started writing erotic poetry in middle school. I guess some boy found their dads or big brothers playboys and porn videos stash enticing and intriguing. I found the short stories in porn magazines more vivid than the nude pictures. I’d flip straight to the stories. My early erotica was much more subtle and naïve. It was more romantic in nature, kisses in waterfalls, just being attentive to girls/women. I questioned myself then why I was so intrigued by human love and our sexuality. It was never uncomfortable with me to seek through writing, but sharing was a no-no. I didn’t want to “get in trouble” so to speak. Twelve or Thirteen and talking about what I was talking meant a but whooping. I knew it was taboo.

TM: What motivates your poetic creativity?

Pharaoh: I am motivated and inspired my life in general. All aspects intrigue me on some level.

TM: Why an erotic book by a black man?

Pharaoh: Because it’s who I am, first of all. I’m an erotic, abstract, complicated at times, creative, loving, sexual, sensual, spontaneous, and a loving black man comfortable in his own skin. Secondly, we need it. This book is the missing black masculine interpretation of sex, erotica, love, black cool, and romance. We need this book our black women need this book and black men will related to this book.

TM: How do women respond to your poetry? Have you ever used your poetry to get women?

Pharaoh: All women respond differently.. Some are taken aback. Some are completely turned on and out, infatuated with my writing. Many feel a sense of relieve that I write erotica that is tastefully done. I think it reveals a power that black men don’t even know they have or rarely tap into anymore. No, I’ve never used my poetry to get women, I’ve been accused of it. But I was writing erotica long before I started to share it. I started to share my writing in college at poetry readings/ciphers. They called me a freak, horny, and so on. The thing is I am rarely horny when I write. Now I might write something that turns me on and that’s what women get to read the same thing that made me horny.

TM: Do you use personal experiences in your erotic writings?

Pharaoh: I rarely ever do. I am usually creating fantasy even I have not explored, I am pretty out of the box when I write, no boundaries except ones what I want to set.

TM: What is the title of your book? Why?

Pharaoh: The title of the book is “Sexsensual ”. I created or coined the word Sexsensual from giving a lot of thought to what my work meant to me on many levels and reading Walter Mosley’s book “Killing Johnny Fry: A Sexistential Novel”. I love that book. It is the ultimate mental joyride of sexual human emotion on a multitude of levels. I’ve read it 10 plus times and from researching romantic poets and black poets. I think I write from a very existential perspective. My poetry is about intrapersonal discovery of what sexuality is and can be. Sexsensual means: The discovery of one’s personal sexual sensual enlightenment in one’s life. That sounds like something a sexual Buddha would say, and well he would lol. It embraces the mental, spiritual, and physical aspect that makes us human beings and sexual.

TM: You model right? Is that you on your promotional bookcover?

Pharaoh: Yes I do mostly freelance nothing major. That is me on the cover.

TM: What kind of erotic poetry and short stories can we expect to read?

Pharaoh: You can expect my work to take you on mental journey that is revealing, uninhibited, abstract and very original. It will make you wonder, blush, turn you on, and maybe turn you out on a mental level. It will represent the missing link in romance, sensuality, and love-making a lot of times today, mental stimulation.

TM: Has any of your poetry been published?

Pharaoh: Yes, actually the published piece is not even erotic. The poem is non-erotic. It is a poem about the 1940’s lynchings of black men entitled “Trees Like Me”. It was inspired by me seeing the pictures of black men hanging from trees in the South and the Billie Holiday song “Strange Fruit”.

TM: Do you write your own poems or do you collaborate with others?

Pharaoh: All that I write is my orginal work. I write it so often and fast that I don’t memorize it. I do not collaborate.

TM: What is your poetry about and what image do you think your poetry conveys?

Pharaoh: My poetry is simply being “human”. Everything concerning us good and bad, civil and uncivil, animalistic and humanistic, sexual and sensual.

TM: Tell us about your upcoming book and when should we expect it?

Pharaoh: Sexsensual will be out January 2010, my website will be up then too. You can expect this book to be that book you are like I have never read anything like this before. I think I have my own writing style. It’s my gift to somehow tap into human emotions and play the song of the heart in that moment. That’s when you capture and hold a reader, and they are then not reading but mentally in tune seeing, feeling, touching, tasting, smelling, and absorbing your words. The book will empower men and women to be creative and more mentally in tune in their approach to sex. It will be a powerful book nothing the less whether I sell one book or a million books.

TM: Is this your first interview or do you have some other articles/stories or video links about you posted somewhere for public viewing?

Pharaoh: This is my very first interview! And I will give you the first interview when the book is printed too. You have my word, cell, and my email address! I will do some “You Tube” like reading of my word once the book is printed on my website.

TM: Who are your favorite authors and why?

Pharaoh: Mosley truly inspires me. He is a profound dynamic writer. His books should be a partof educational English and writing classes, despite content. Like Me” author Howard Johnson. It was the first novel I read and inspired me to write. That book is another book that should be a part of American history. I read a lot. Currently, I am reading “Paradise Lost” and “The Devine Comedy”.

TM: Who are your artistic influences? How do you differ from other authors upcoming and mainstream and do you share any similarities?

Pharaoh: I am influenced by old school artist more than anything. Singers like Etta Mae James, Tammy Terrell, Same Cooke, Marvin Gaye, blues singer Denise LaSalle, Lenny Williams, Maxwell to name a few. Photography like Gordon Parks, and human beings in gerneral are artistic influence for me. I’m a people watcher. I think I differ on so many levels. My work is not trendy. I have never written for anyone or any following just myself. My work expresses black male masculinity in a way it marries femininity. This is not sister-girl type writing, it’s not street-lit, all of which I read. I’m often compared to the author ZANE, because of the sexual nature of my work. We are however very different.

TM: Are you looking for an independent publishing deal or a major publishing deal?

Pharaoh: I am not looking to do a major deal, but I would not turn down the opportunity if it was right. I want people to read my work period. I will still share my work on social sites if never get a deal. MY fans gave me my start. I haven’t put a book out yet and I have 23,500 fans on Tagged.com, and another 1,000 on Blackplanet. I will, however, self-publishthe first book. Sexsensual is a trilogy, one of three books. The first is erotic poetry, the second is an erotic poetry and short stories book. The poems will be interludes to the short stories with the same title. And the third installment will be the erotic novel.

TM: Have you ever performed your poetry in live performances such as spoken word? What type of experience have you had? Where?

Pharaoh: I tried sharing my erotic work in college it was excepted with mixed emotions. Spoken-word is very popular. Spoken word artist don’t always embrace erotic poetry. Most who do or try erotic spoken-word have no vocabulary or concept at all at times. And if done wrong it can be totally distasteful and not well received. I think my work is more vividly seen when a person reads my works.

TM: Do you have a demo or press kit, or electronic press kit, or any other promotional materials?

Pharaoh: I’m a “techy” and right now the internet is my number one tool right now, social cites. I get to go right to people to show and tell them about my work. And my handheld T-Mobile G1 is my all day tool. I do alot of work on it, even write on it.

TM: Have you ever thought about becoming a songwriter?

Pharaoh: Not no out right. However, if an artist read some of my work and was like I want to turn this poem into a song or give me some poetic lyrical content, I’d do it in a heartbeat!

TM: Are you working on any special projects and or collaborating with anyone?

Pharaoh: My first book is my special project. I am not collaborating at the moment, but if it was right I would.

TM: Are you on Twitter, FB, or MySpace?

Pharaoh: I am on Twitter find by searching @Pharaoh78. I will launch my Facebook page in December closer to print.

TM: Do you have a good following? Where can fans read your poetry?

Pharaoh: I would say so for a book that’s not out yet. My fans are loyal all 23,000 plus on my Tagged.com page. I’ve complied a personal mailing list of 500 plus fans too. I amassed those following in less than nine months. I have some that are like I will buy twenty books. I’m like we’ll see. I hope so! I can be found of Tagged.com, or people can go to my blog spot http://pharaohrobinson.blogspot.com/ they can comment and even rate my poetry work that will be found in my book.

TM: Who is your fan base? How do you show love and respond to your fans?

Pharaoh: My fan base in terms of age is around 22 to 55 year old women single, married, bi-sexual, and some gay fans. I have few male fans right now. I show my fans love, first off, by writing quality work. I interact with them as long as it doesn’t get too personal. I try to keep it business-like. However, writing erotica makes some readers very curious.

TM: What are the craziest things fans have ever said or done?

Pharaoh: Wow, some fans have actually admitted to coming from reading my work, pure mental stimulation. One woman admitted she prints my work off and well, let’s my poetry works well with her BOB (Battery Operated Boyfriend), and she reads my work while using it. Some women join my mailing list and send their own poems to me, pictures, and videos. I take it as simply meaning they like my work.

TM: How do you feel about the state of black male and black female relationships?

Pharaoh: This is such a complicated multidimensional question. I would say the state is the same as it has been since slavery, in trouble. The destruction of the black family and black love have not been repaired. It has seemly been replaced with too many black men and women independent of each other, naïve understandings of love, family, and deep frustration on both sides for black men and women.. We need to not get back to our roots of love, but create a new foundation. Things bigger than status, money, relationship hierarchy, not being a playa or playerette. At the end of the day, Black women love and follow the lead of black men. If there were no pimps, thugs, drug dealers, disrespect toward women, and false images of the successful. We’d have fewer women feeling the need to have a thug, a drugs deal, and or a pimp. As men we can set the tone for our women. They will follow, they want to follow us proudly. This is not a slight to feminist. Following our lead is like dancing someone must lead. At the end of the day it is woman standing by our side.

TM: Has anyone ever criticized your poetry or misunderstood it?

Pharaoh: Yes, and I let critics do what they do best criticize. I don’t care I don’t write for them, never have never will. I write for me. I just so happens some people like what I write. So I write for them too. I’ve had people come down on me, while others are like hell I need to spice up my marriage with ideas from your work.

TM: What type of response do you get from your fans?

Pharaoh: Fans love my work. A lot of them were never into poetry, let alone erotic poetry. And they are fans now. I love them and they love me. We are great in our world.

TM: How do men feel about your erotic poetry?

Pharaoh: Heterosexual men are like hey, I ain’t never read nothing like this. However, I feel you. Can I post your work on my page with your copyright? Some print it off and admit they recite it to women. I do have homosexual fans. I get asked to write homoerotism, I can’t. Okay I won’t write it. I can do anything I put my mind to. I’m heterosexual so I chose to write about that sexual genre of art. I hope men buy the book and get some ideas of how to tap into their creative side, or hell flat out use one of my stories or poems as the blueprint.

TM: Do you think your poetry can help stimulate a relationship?

Pharaoh: That is the foundation of my writing to mentally stimulate. It will definitely do that and open new horizons in relationships. And understand not every fantasy has to be lived out. However, even the power of talking and telling your lover during sex your fantasy can be extremely powerful, like role-playing.

TM: Is your poetry more geared to singles, couples, or both?

Pharaoh: It’s for mature adults’ period.

TM: Bonus Question: How do you feel about how black women are being portrayed in rap lyrics, and music videos?

Pharaoh: I think the depiction could be more artistically creative. It’s not creative or beautiful. It buys into the stereotype that Black sex, romance, and love are nasty too much. We create the vision that we want the world to see us as, and we can do better.Again we black men set the tone. Those women want our attention, black male attention. Look when black men were “power to the people” so were sistas, we gangsta rap and hip-hop took over and said I need a woman like this, that, and the other. What did the women in the videos do? We have a strong blakc family man as President of the United States. What are black women saying “I need my Barak Obama?” We lead…

TM: Do you have any challenges you’d like to share?

Pharaoh: That’s a book in itself. I’ll just say moving from Kansas to Washington, DC was a culture shock for me as a black boy coming to a largely black metro area. I didn’t know such a thing existed. I called my momma like “Ma, I don’t see any white people.” I was living in Capital Heights, Maryland at the time sleeping on the floor, renting a room out. I was in shock. I’ve spent night crying, finding myself, and at the end of it all it comes in the form of writing. Use your gifts and talents to find yourself, your calling and run after it don’t walk.

TM: How would you define the word “success”?

Pharaoh: Success is not money. I’ll keep this short I have a bucket-list, a realistic one. And if I can complete that list, I am a success, and I’m well on my way. Success is the love and care I give my daughters, family, and friends. Success is living a long healthy life to me and most of all loving people.

TM: What Writers 101 advice do you have to offer new authors striving for success?

Pharaoh: Stopping writing for success and just write. Write because you are hungry to share your work with others, because you have something to say. That is the ultimate success as a writer to me.

TM: Where do you see yourself 5 years from now?

Pharaoh: Married and a successful. I am single right now and focsued on my career goals. I can’t wait whoever she is. I might already know her.

TM: Any last words?

Pharaoh: It’s been a pleasure. To my fans continue to be free in your mind if nowhere else. Love and make love like love is gone tomorrow. Support my book and God bless.

TM: TM thanks you for taking the time to shed light on your career as an upcoming author. We look forward to hearing more of your poetry! We don’t wish you good luck, we wish you SUCCESS!

Contact:

Pharaoh Robinson

Pharaoh.Robinson@gmail.com

http://www.tagged.com/pharaoh007

http://pharaohrobinson.blogspot.com/

http://twitter.com/PHARAOH78

Tears Of A Man

2009-08-19T07:11:00.000-07:00

Tears of a Man

A thousand times a thousand lies
Giving bonds and years for a night’s flame
You silently cry a million tears and still you give me life
Simply you are love’s perfection, to my every imperfection

And still you love a heart
Filled with too much pride and thousand lies

You won’t go, your heart won’t leave
Your faith won’t waiver, Love’s angels save her
In love with me, more than man I see in the mirror
I push her to the edge, as she hangs on to a faith I cannot see

And still you love a heart
Filled with too much pride and thousand lies

But tonight I cry in my own arms, a man alone
A face I can’t stand to see, a convicted soul is me
Unable to go home to a heart and soul of a woman
I can’t hold myself tight enough, to ask her for forgiveness

And still you love a heart
Filled with too much pride and thousand lies

As my eyes water and soul burns
Your hands embrace this face, you kiss my lips
With a love that says, we are endlessly wingless in flight
My tears can now cry for man in love someplace forever past heaven

Pharaoh.Robinson@gmail.com

Blues Poem: Sweet Pussy Blues

2009-04-17T14:15:00.000-07:00

Swimming in chocolate bayou
Everglade glazed lips slosh around
In sweeter nectar to make me feel better

I drink only the best
Black moonshine, liquor me up thick
Bent over backwards from behind I take mine

Talk to me sweet pussy lips
Kegal that song, sing them sweet pussy blues

Slowly I get drunk
Numerous shots of nectar’d wine
Voodoo spells on my lips, blues girl wind them hips

Dance that vertical lip dance
Make your hips tick, and rock my lips
Scream that hoo’ doo’ reluctant to release you.

Talk to me sweet pussy lips
Kegal that song, sing them sweet pussy blues

Magical spell, with that blood hound hell
Grab my head, break my neck if I turn it loose.
Shake it and let loose

See line woman, loosing my head
Under that red dress, catwalk legs
Make me love it, until you fly away

Talk to me sweet pussy lips
Kegal that song, sing them sweet pussy blues

© Pharaoh.Robinson2009 All rights reserved.

My Soul's Pen: Dying Glow

2009-04-14T13:10:00.000-07:00

"From my 2nd book I am finshing: "My Soul's Pen", a non-erotic might I add, abstract perspective on life, love, culture, politicss, religion, and a Black Man in America.

DYING GLOW

I see soft baby feet
That run across my body
I feel tiny hands pat my chest
Late night sweat I can’t shake off me…

“Daddy”

I hear them whisper
First words, see them take first steps
Midnight drool from my mouth, taste of baby-spit
Sweet smell of thunder storm rain and baby powder in he midnight hour

“Mommy”

I dream of forgiveness
Wish for her breast to swell
Her body to glow, shiny bright
Deem lights, mysterious silhouettes

“We want to come home…”

Convenient deception, human contraception
Idle mouths that still move with methodic hands
Wash away the glows season to season, for random reasons
Yet, every night my children sleep with me…

MIND SEX

2009-04-09T11:16:00.000-07:00

Come with me
Close your eyes
Get naked with me
Press it, against me roughly

Remove nothing
Yet strip everything
Bare yourself nudely
Lick me, then bit me rudely

Remove your inhibitions
Unloosen it, until unconformity
Wrap your legs around me in unity
You get used to me

Allow me to fondly your soul
Caress the nipples of your mental breast
Breathe my breath, cinnamon sweet
My lips swimming in vertical lips stream

French kiss me mentally
Stimulate me hard
Deep throat verbally
Never touch me, but don't touch

We climax through eye contact
Black bodies in hot sweats created mentally
Muted orgasms scratch my back, in my mind
Wrapped your legs around my mind, squeeze me tight

Touch me
But don't touch me
Kiss me, but don't kiss me
Caress me, but don't caress me

Warm gushes from mental pushes
Squirting hot joy you coat my mind
Slushy wet in my mind, you grip and ride
Climax until euphoric intoxicated sex highs

Fuck me, like I’m there, without touch
Suck me, wet your throat mentally quench yourself
Taste your nectar off your finger tips thick like its me
Scream as you beam my dick up in orgasmic star track like dreams

Let me fuck you, but not fuck you
Let me choke you, but not choke you
Let me stroke you deeply, but not stroke you
But don't let me touch you...

© Pharaoh Robinson

The Girl, That Grew Up A Boy To A Man

2008-06-12T13:09:00.000-07:00

Five years ago I pick-up up and left Kansas to find my way in life to be able to give something to me daughter after her mother and I broke up. I didn’t wanted the break-up, I would have suffered for her to give her what I thought was the best. A dysfunctional marriage would not have been the “best”… so I left. I left with nothing but the ringing of “You ain’t sh!t” in my heart that hurt from my daughter’s mother. Not because I was not trying. I was not rich. I could provide the “bling” lifestyle, so I wasn’t sh!t. Mind you at the time I was walking to work in the dead of winter and had given her my car and helped furnished her apartment.

Forty dollars, and a suitcase to my name I moved to D.C. sleeping on the floor with no family. I had a job. My mother asked why? How would I make it? My only response was “I have to go and be a man.” With no real solid answer I continued “find my way”...Like most my father was not around. My mother did great with me, God Bless her heart. There are gaps though that no woman can fill when “manhood” is concerned. That is up to that boy to become a man or not, a father or not.

I left my heart, my daughter, and sole being and motivation. I still remember the flight attendant who caught me trying to face so far into the plane window to hide my embarrassing tears she gave me a seat in the rare of the plane. Phoenix was only one years old at the time. Many days and nights I was to depressed to want to her hear voice goo and gag into the phone or say “DaDa.” She was born on Father’s Days…Ever since that day I promised God to do right by my gift. As much as she is my baby, she’s his baby. She changed me in a way that only saved people find God or get reacquainted with him.
Five years later, as she is going on six years old, but thinks she twenty-six and some change. I called her to fight depression, and to find motivation. Her voice lifts me up and let me know there is reason to go on. She is my little legacy and God gifts to me. Even when she calls early in the morning she’s my Sunshine and God’s everyday gift to me. I couldn’t hide the fact she’s the only woman to make me cry if I think long enough like this past Tuesday morning Jun 12, 2008

“Daddy you sleep?”
“Hello”
“Daddy..wake..up!
“Heyyy baby…”
“Get up we need to talk!”

It’s funny to receive a phone call early in the morning from a five year that is campaigning and hashing out her birthday plans. Everything is as organized and straight forward as nature and the seasons in the little heads of children.

“When are you coming to pick me up? I miss you.” She said excited in wait for my reply. “And I want to go the water park for my birthday. Schlitterbahn water park in Texas.”

“What do you know about Schlitterbahn? That’s where daddy went when he was a young boy.”
“I saw it on television.”

Smiling as I lay in bed. Knowing without having talked to her that’s where I planned on taking her in way.

I lay there thinking back. Realizing that what I wanted in life is solely based upon her happiness, her comfort, her well-being. Overwhelmed, tears formed in the corners of my eyes at the thought this child, my child, and a gift from God is all that matters. I see it not as a burden to have a child, but a gift from God. A responsibility from him to me, to fail her is failing him. Fatherhood is that simple to me. To take care of my child and let her know she is love, and be a positive light in her life.

“Daddy! Are you listening?”
“I want to change day cares. They are getting on my last nerves.”

Lost in my moment of tears and thinking of her she had been holding a full fledge conversation about the important factors in her life. Her dislike of her current daycare and going to a water park for her birthday summed up the weight of her childhood worries. I found my morning humor and motivation in them.

“I’m listening baby. And you can’t change daycares. Okay.”
“Oookay”
I sniffled and her alert ears heard curiously.

“Are you crying daddy?”

What was the point of lying to five year old. With her, my heart and child, there are no egos, no prides to hides, no half-truth to be ashamed, just honesty. Honesty that is as pure as hers. I already knew all her questions to follow “Why are you crying?” “Why, are you crying if you’re not sad?”

“Yeah, baby daddy is crying. He is crying because he love you. You know you made daddy a man. So daddy is happy. Crying happy.”

“Ohh…” she paused and absorbed all she needed to understand and discarded the rest.

“When are you coming to pick me up? I miss you.”
“The last week of July baby. Just you and me. I promise and pinky swear.”
“Yay! I love you daddy. Get up for work now! I love bye-bye…”
“I love you to baby talk to you tonight. I love you. Gimme my sugar!”
Muahhh

I love my daughter and all the profound moments she brings to me. All that she reveals about me to myself, I often feel naked in those moments of finding self. She is in Oklahoma and I’m in D.C. Yet she always make it seems like I’m less than a mile away.

“When are you coming to pick me up? I miss you.”
“When you leaving DC to come get me?”

My Father’s Day is everyday every picture in my office, every screen saver, every thought, and the echo of her voice in my head that can bring a tear in heat beat.

When share our favorite song and the only song that would put her to sleep as a baby and to this day “This Woman’s Work”

America: My Gift and My Curse, My Pride and Pain

2008-06-02T08:49:00.000-07:00

I am a 29 year old professional young black man. I grew up in Wichita, Ks. and attended an all Black Catholic Elementary a middle school. Then I went on to an all white catholic high school. I experienced a glimpse of America as began to journey into it as a young black man. I like Michelle Obama is for the first time really proud to be an American a patriotic American. White America will ask why? Let me explain…

For the first time in a long time America is facing what it had been scared to do, which is truly voice our thoughts on America Racial Issues. Americans of all color are paying attention and facing America's darkest secret of race...and how far we have come and not come. I know black and whites alike that are uncertain if this country is truly ready for a Black Man as president. Black and whites alike fear for his life and the set backs if such an event as Hillary Clinton stated for not dropping out of the race of the Presidency.

My great-great grandmother 100 years old as of May 2008 use to share with me as a boy what American history book in my schools would not. She shared with me what American government would not. She shared with me what many White Americans of the 1930’s, the 1940’s, the 1950’s, and the 1960’s may have chose not share with some of there kids and grandchildren about how they may have treated blacks or how black were treated. She talked about working on a plantation as little girl post-slavery. The friends she lost, the stories her parents told her about life slavery. I learned of a history that has been brushed under a rug. I know of times purposely drown at the bottom of the sea, that today most Americans alike are blind to. She told me to find out about my history about my America.

People of Color have benefited from the Civil Rights era in general. One of the largest immigration came during that time. The larger percentage of America only knows the bleached, down played version of American history and racism. You know like I know why it was kept out of American Educational History books... Why are there no pre-elevation systems of African Americans not mentioned??? The Atlantic Slave Trade, Chattel Slavery, the battle over Emancipation Proclamation of Slaves, Brussels Conference Act of 1890, post-slavery plantations, 1900 to 1940’s Lynching’s, Whites Only/Coloreds only, the Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment, the foundation of the government’s Jim Crow Laws, Separate but Equal, Brown v. Board of Education, Dred Scott v. Sandford, the psychological systems of breaking blacks for the processing of slavery, the foundation of Wall Street America’s 1st Fortunate 500 Company (Slavery), the first largest import/export product was not TEA it was Africans/Human beings. The slap in the face of the most common human emotion, love, with the Anti-Miscegenation Amendment. This basically forbade interracial marriages nation-wide. Yet this portion of American history is referred to as simply a black-eye instead of a disease.

Some will say get over it. Some scream old news. They are acting like victims, can you just let it go? Some will say White America has helped endlessly to elevate Black Americans with endless scholarships, funding, and grants. Whites have helped and many Blacks have capitalized on it. The gift and curse about American Social Systems aiding African Americans only came about after the inhumane governmental systems of racism that were and are in place unfortunately. Justifiably so, I agree that strides have been made. Let us not forget or be blind to the government systems that were in place. Inhumane systems that would not be needed if Democracy was represented equally, or a equally educated Black, White, or any man of color were hired based purely on character/knowledge/rapport/skills. Instead we are a nation so steeped in the color of skin America is naked for the world to see no longer is it in the dark. Our struggle with democracy in America is very different. Considering the fact blacks were first seen as animals, tradable livestock, economic bargaining tools, stock, and so forth before being seen as human beings in America. We were seen as 3/5th a man, with no right to vote in the Three-Fifths Compromise. We were then seen as outcast citizens and treat with hatred and distain.

The roots are just now truly being mentioned that peaceful man of change Martin Luther King was assassinated. The whites who march with black are never mentioned! His story is just now really being told, often cast in black and white film to be made to seem like it was oh so long ago. The government killed a man of peaceful protest who marched in the name of change.

Educational and media outlets alike do not focused on black Americans in a positive "light". If it’s not sport or entertainment you wouldn’t see ninety percent of Black Americans on T.V. Going even further to how far America has not come in terms of Race Relations. Even the formerly black-owned BET does not choose to enlighten or educated Black Americans wit the sufficient knowledge of black experiences in American history. Yet, glorifying nameless unimportant Black American Gangster in the name of “up-liftment”… If it weren’t for Sports or Entertainment America would more than likely be the most segregated nation around.

I do not condone Reverend Wright’s comments either. Yet, I understand where he may have been trying to go. He preaches from an angered heart seemly. That mixes some truth, with some empty rhetoric. Then I think about what era he grew up in? What America did he see? What America did he experience? And I can relate, but not allow my heart to harbor the same resentment. When just a year ago while I was doing my job and was asked “When is Fried-chicken Day?” by a group of white co-workers at my government agency or having “nigger” carved on my locker in high school or the occasional white woman that grips her purse, as I counter with warm hello and a smile to ease tension. Maybe I was spared, okay, I know I was spared the trite humdrum racial experience of that time. American History needs not bended truths like his for us to face our past as Americans. That’s something we are doing, and facing as white and blacks alike are voting for a Black Man.

Obama’s position as Black Man has to the most difficult since Martin Luther King. He is black and white, seemly he is not black or white enough, or middle of the road enough to win “US” Americans over. You see he is an “example” of the unspoken pain, resentment, a broken chain of untraditional conformity, he is change, and fear we have buried in America for too long. Maybe one day America embrace itself, it’s brethrens, it’s kin no matter our skin color and change…maybe one day we’ll change…with or without him as president…

As Obama has tried to run a “race forward” “let move on campaign” a “time for change” time and time again America speaks. America sometimes speaks in favor of this man, sometimes against this man, in racist tongues, in color-blind tongues, and/or political tongues. He is tied to both sides. Hopefully he will be judged on his politics, character, knowledge, passion and content. Not the color of his skin or black blood and white blood.

For many Black Americans this is a very proud time for the first time, as may be the case for White Americans as in terms of race, change, and social progress. Michelle Obama was speaking for more people than realized. The complexity of being black and our experience under American Democracy is an abstract, a soulful tug-of-war at times, a pursuit of happiness, and a constant cycle of change toward progress. America is my gift and curse, my pride and pain. Unlike yester years, today, I want my bricks of history, culture, ingenuity, love, and patriotism to be embrace and not short-changed or thought of as less than.

“I love my country though it has shown and reminded me time and time again I am a Black Man…yet I am American…I am proud…I am for change…I am patriot for the Democracy that escapes it’s own true meaning at times. “ – Cory Robinson 2008