Black Ice (short film)


The short film Black Ice is finally up for viewing. Visit the link below. Thank you all for the support and feedback. There is so much more to come.

They say a storm is coming

They say a storm is coming…

That soon the sea will open the doors of its eyes to tears and the oceans the windows of its mouth to wail because its home has been plundered.

They say a storm is coming… That tomorrow I will wake up in the remnant of what my kind has done to our world and I will hear the foot steps of rivers running to safety.

They say a storm is coming… That I should pack hope in a duffle bag and my dreams, well, my dreams I should leave for the storm to wash clean.

They say a storm is coming, like I wasn’t here all along.

Written by: Adewumi Godwin.

ūüďł: @photospeaks_photography

Gang shootings  (poem)

The darkness covers the tracks of our every move
Dark hoodies bandanas and 40oz got us in the retaliation mood.
All it took for our souls to be shook and hooked on colors was the cover of our dead homie tony.
Glocks locked ready to spray down the flock spotting niggas to get popped
What a better night than Christmas Eve
Knowing by midnight that a opp will receive
A gift of pain revenge is what we hope  to gain.
I never thought of killing another
Until they took one of my brothers
Take a sip of some hard liquor to get our blood’s pumping
Ready to blow, soul pouring with perpetual thoughts as we walked
Hunting, see a nigga with  the wrong color and it’s *da da da pop pop” on sight in the dead of night.
There they go, take it slow this is where we end it all
Three niggas we know to rep on the steps of death
Parked in the von humboldt park
Tell me why I fell victim to the idea Noah’s ark
Riding to a great cleansing of opps
Get shot off top for some shit that was gang related ~Deandre

I thought one day this stuff will become outdated.
Expirated blood splatter from the windpipe as he choked.
There is no hope for the minority.
But you’re really the majority.
Screaming black lives matter but adding more deaths to the story.
You make me sick to my stomach.
Coughing from the smoke.
Inhale, I’ve found a home here.
Exhale, there’s no escaping this.
Dressed in blue during the day.
All black at night.
Killing for the green, doing time for the white.
You laugh at gays but express more of the rainbow.
Colors, seeing all these colors but your own.
Red covered his skin as you popped one in.
“There’s no jobs here, this is how we survive‚ÄĚ is what you tell em.
People like you don’t deserve to be alive.
Sell drugs to kill your people slowly.
Spend the money on materialistic things and pretend like these streets are your only way of living.
Enough with the gang banging and start investing into a new business. ~Jamy


Collaboration week day 3