American State Union Address:

for the people by the people

Black Pearl

Spectrum Wave publishing

Spectrum Sound Bitez

Copyright@2026

My fellow Americans,

Tonight, we are told this is a State of the Union address. But look closely. What you will see is not a report on the state of our people, but a parade of narcissism. It will be packed with a fascist, racist attitude that does not see you, does not hear you, and certainly does not represent you.

It is not about the people. It is not for the people. It is not by the people. It is about the decorations of a regime, propped up by lies, propaganda, and gaslighting. They want to convince us that what we are seeing with our own eyes is not real. But we are not fooled. We will not be gaslit any longer. We don't want to hear it anymore.

We are witnessing the slow demise of our democracy into a dictatorship. We see neighborhoods being tarnished, families torn apart, and people herded into concentration camps simply because they are not from the "right" side. This isn't a storyline from a Netflix documentary about the malicious presidents of the past—the Hardings, the Wilsons, the Jacksons who thought they alone built America. This is happening now, on our watch.

We must re-align our foundation. We are told to chant "America First." But I tell you now: America is God’s first. And in God we trust. That is not just a stamp on our currency; it is a covenant. Once that seal is placed, that is where our homage belongs. We must stop pretending we are a part of some alignment of power that serves only itself. Our discernment must come from a higher place.

And if we are to be judged by how we treat our most vulnerable, then we are failing. All children should be seen, and all children shall be heard. They must have the right to exercise their lives in safety. They need protection—not just from gun violence that ignores the spirit of the Second Amendment, but protection under the First Amendment, the 13th, 14th, and 15th. Every right under the Constitution, from Article 1 to Article 25, must apply to them. There should be no exception to the rule.

Look at the state of our economy. We are told we face inflation, but we are actually facing a segregation of scarcity. There is no abundance. There is no security. There is no safety. The border is not controlled; it is chaos. Homeland Security has become a tool for oppression, not protection.

We must stop building empires and start building the foundation of this nation. We must stop implementing wars for profit and speak the word of peace. We must live in peace. Stop making a profit off of colonization. Stop making a profit off of war. And for the love of God, stop prioritizing the building of jails over the building of schools.

We will build back the foundation of this nation. We will align our actions with our values. We will stop the chaos, secure our communities, and ensure that our children are seen, heard, and protected.

This is not just an address. It is a call to return to the true state of our union: one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

May God bless you, and may God bless these United States.

Exhibit A: The Black Doves

Black Pearl

Ft. Precious Jam Gemstone

I deserve!

I deserve to be heard!

You can't expect my pain to go unseen, unheard!

Do you expect me to be heard?

The answer's in my every word:

I deserve

Spread

In every word

I deserve…..,

I will be heard!

.

For the Doves, whose stories scroll past, unseen,

On every new feeds, on every bright uncut right out from a movie screen.

Streamed on whole vessels, yet drowned in white noise—

A stolen innocence, a plundered poise.

Their youth was a canvas, pristine and white,

Till the Gilded Age painters crept in with their night,

Their progressive stage masking a tinted black,

A calculated, predatory attack.

The Black Dove deserves more than a moment’s attention,

Beyond the brief, hollow, trending prevention.

A child raised to be seen, but never heard,

A caged, silent singer, a captive bird.

When will society allow them their words?

All we see on the social box, every absurd like Sarah Baartman

Experiment flashing—it’s them, the Gilded, who served

Generations of power, their lanes thoroughly swerved

Black Jobs

Black Pearl

Spectrum wave Publishing

Spectrum Wave Music Ent.

Copyright@2026

Oh, napkins

Table cloths

You

need to move on.

napkins

On the hot pursuit.

napkins

Are always singing

The same old,

Day in

Day out

tired songs.

Every election

They pretend

They care

About Black folks,

But napkins

Don’t give a damn.

One night,

As the world watched

On the flat box,

The wizard came from Oz.

Blond hair, blue eyes,

Orange tan, pale face,

Yellow yoke

veneers shining

From ear to ear.

He invites Black folks

To follow along

His yellow brick road.

( like the color of his teeth)

He said he is returning

Black folks’ jobs.

But I don’t know

’Bout Black folks’ jobs.

Did we ever have

Black jobs?

Where is the Black job?

Where are the Black jobs?

North, East, West, South—

Are those Black jobs?

Remember,

We were told

We were lazy slobs.

Wizard from the North

Refuses to pay

Our back taxes

Court dues.

Removes us from history,

Erases our music,

Denies Black folks

Even though.

We have

Built this country.

Wizard insults Black folks

Instead, by claiming

We don’t know how to use

A computer.

Even though

Dr. Mark Dean,

First Black inventor,

Built the PC.

Oh, yeah,

These remarks—

Black folks find

The wizard’s

Racial patterns.

It ain’t right.

Where the jobs at?

Day by day,

Night by night,

Lines get longer,

Hope gets slight.

Unemployment rising

In the pale moonlight.

Black folks

Are always the scapegoat

In every table cloth

And napkin

Wizard scheme.

But this ain’t a joke.

Black folks,

Stay woke!

What would the world be

Without Black jobs?

Coding us to spy,

Programming us to track—

Digital slave catchers

Never looking back.

Old chains in new wire,

Same ancient trap.

Black jobs, Black jobs, Black jobs.

We got Black jobs!

We are moving on up!

Project 2025?

Another social experiment

Because of Black jobs

Weather man

Forecast

Sums black jobs

Won’t last

Joblawless

Homelessness

Lawlessness

cling so fast

All began on

the first month

If you qualify

On production line

Take your time

Your punch card

Already check out!

Black jobs

Where are the jobs ?

Where are the jobs ?

Where are the Black jobs at?

Chorus

Spectrum Wave Music Entertainment

Spectrum wave Publishing

Copyright@2026

Rain

Black Pearl

Spectrum Wave publishing

Copyright@2026

I met the most wisest

Women in the world;

I have ever known

She once advised me

A long time ago,

When trouble waters,

It entered like a thief

Lurking in the night.

She also said,

When hard times are rising,

Whether it is light or dark,

Our lives would never fall apart

If the sky is red, purple, or blue,

Just sing for the rain.

When it rains,

My daughter,

Go,

let it rain

Allow it to rain on you

Rain,

She said,

You must always

ask for the rain

When it rains,

Please,

Hope it never goes away!

Have the rain flow all the way

Especially, those dreadful nights

Let it rain

Rain form like the mighty army

Do not be alarm

Rain,

Have it circle all around

Let it rain

Rain,

It is a sign of your breakthrough

Trouble waters won’t last long

Here comes the rain

As she sang,

Rain comes my way

I’m in so much crisis

hardships,

say goodbye

Hello,

Rain please come my way

Please make it flow my way

I feel the rain

Showering it down every day

It's about to come on down

As I hear the sound

It is going to wash all of me

Release it now,

Every joy and pain

I can feel the rain

It is come tumbling Down

Wash me

Cleanse inside

Rinse

Recycle

Rain on me

Let it rain

Come on rain on me

I have a breakthrough

Rain

Thank you

For the rain

Rain on us

Shower your heavenly rain

When the rain releases down,

Please,

Bring it my way

I want to pour all

Rain on me

Wash me inside

Breakthrough can release

I feel alive

As the rain comes tumbling down,

Have it come my way

Let it rain

Rain

GALA MASQUERADE BLACK PEARL

BLACK PEARL

Spectrum wave Publishing

COPYRIGHT@2026

This universe is crazy.

Sometimes it’s getting a little bit Lazy.

Amazing

Every story

often begins with

Middle, and end.

Tell me the reason

Why do the good

die young?

While the good often

Stands against all odds,

I find it sad when

A common man

Has a liver scare

No healthcare

He couldn’t afford

He got off life support

, so give us the reason

While the other man

Lives,

By getting high

On his own supply

Fools the world

He remains

Glamorous

He dresses in his

Suit and tie

Escort installed

Makeup

nails

lashes

High Heel shoes

Thousand dollar

ticket

Plus

Donate over

ten-thousand

Night hour

Follow the leader

Devil’s playground

Clock strikes 12

The show must go on

( gala masquerade)

Blood sacrifices

Mimic the pleasants

To eat cake

Food lands

Into the trash

While the show must

Go on

Red carpet

Everyone

Having a ball

Refuse to ask

Hides behind mask

( gala masquerade)

Around a corner

Behind,

(gala masquerade)

Behind

a parking lot

You may

Find,

A family hides

in tents like

Long distance

Friends

/sea at west

/military island

Scared straight

No crust bread

While Shivering

in the cold,

They sing a tune

To keep warm.

Give me the reason

Why

Ignore the disadvantages

World in crisis

The show must go on

See the main attractions

(Gala masquerade)

City never sleeps

City all may not eat

City prices are high

Like crimes

Take a bite of apple

, but the show

Must go on

Center stage

Everyone

Looking all

Doll up

Very fancy

(Gala masquerade)

The universal is crazy

Some man life is so easy

While other man finds it the hard way

Mustard a job

He/she will work

As a slave,

by being held

In a bear cave

Because the head

Took a bribe against

Natives’ lives.

Diamonds

Art

Museum

Millions

To billions circle

Wave their hands

After the fans

Snap for the camera

Guests Step inside

Dance the night way

Where is their pride

All hidden secrets

Are no longer hide

Day by day,

Charity

Never belongs

To the common man

(Gala masquerade)

SPECTRUM WAVES MUSIC ENTERTAINMENY

COPYRIGHT@2026

Democracy Or Regime:

The Choice

We Made

Black Rose Pearl

Black Pearl

Spectrum Wave Publishing

Copyright@2026

Did We Vote for Democracy or Regime?

We once lived beneath a security blanket, vast and wide,

Democracy, our shelter, our guardian, our guide.

It nestled us safe from the coming storm,

A steadfast promise, faithful and warm.

It built an economy with an even trade,

Where voices could speak, unshaken, unafraid.

Ideas could rise for the whole world to see,

And even in critique, we breathed freely.

Democracy rode as a horse, mighty and true,

Pouring strength into education, health, and stability too.

It swung the door open for every woman and man,

And called that word by name: Equality—its plan.

It ensured no child, no woman, no man would go hungry, be left behind

And barred the iron fist—unyielding, never sundry.

But in 2024, some doubted this grace,

And woke a sleeping serpent in its place.

It came as a regime, with a cold, dividing hand,

And began to strip away the freedoms of our land.

It took from the many, gave to the few,

And those who followed, believing its power true,

Will learn in time: that borrowed might decays,

And the light they worship will soon fade away.

We are hanging by a string when it comes to democracy, ladies, and gentlemen. Look.

Now look—see how democracy’s foundation is strained.

A journalist, born of Baton Rouge, who carried the pain

Of ancestors through slavery, sharecropping’s chain,

Jim Crow’s cruelty, and civil rights’ gain—

For thirty years his voice was clear,

Using the First Amendment to persevere:

Free speech, free press, assembly, belief.

Yet before a crowd, in stunning grief,

As he stood to receive honor, a moment brief,

The regime took him—a public arrest,

Silencing truth, and putting justice to test.

Toni Morrison, a world star, with wisdom clear,

Warned how they come for the art we hold dear.

Journalism is part of the collective soul,

A vital piece that makes the nation whole.

This pattern is not new—this regime has been here before,

And now it returns, seeking ever more.

See how election pillars begin to sway:

In Georgia, 2020, boxes were taken away.

Agents of influence, in shadow and light,

Altered the balance of power and right.

Scotland is begging back for the captain and the crew which the regime had subdued.

When numbers are tampered, and data won’t match,

When ballots go silent, and totals detach,

What becomes of the vote? What becomes of the trust?

When the system is shaken, and fairness turns to dust?

What then of our rights—the

Vanderwolf:

Code of the Grifter-Builder

Black Pearl

Spectrum Wave Publishing

Copyright@2026

In a world gone cold and digital-bare,

A Grifter rules from a titanium chair.

His screen glows blue with encrypted light—

A silent theft, performed by night.

No vaults he cracks, no masks he wears,

Just lines of code and phantom shares.

A cold world-wide his net is cast,

From crypto-shadows fading fast.

Each algorithm, sly and neat,

Transfers the wealth from street to seat.

if (poor) { withdraw(hope) }—a cruel command,

While gold blooms soft in his gloved hand.

He trades in trust, in influence sold,

In phantom coins and promises bold.

A billion here, in foreign lands,

Paid out in invisible strands.

---

Watch how the numbers dance and rise:

while (nation.sleeps) { harvest(public.good) }—disguised

As growth, as trade, as destiny’s course,

While he reroutes the people’s resource.

From Medicare—a ghostly cut—

From food for children, doors once shut.

A million plates left bare, unfed,

While his accounts are richly fed.

A jet from Qatar, sleek and white,

A “gift” that lands in plain daylight.

Then troops deploy, a promised shield—

A policy signed, a battlefield sealed.

---

And every time his balance grows,

A city’s warmth begins to close.

A factory shuts, a clinic fades,

As wealth is drawn to offshore shades.

They call him Senate, call him Rome—

They cheer the empire he’s brought home.

But who built high those marble halls?

The ones who answered when he calls

The ones who lost their health, their bread,

While he dined richly, softly fed

On favors sold and tariffs killed,

On futures traded, dreams fulfilled.

---

Why do they praise his cunning name?

Why wear his logo, burn his flame?

Because he speaks in graphs and gains,

In quarterly reports and lanes

Of endless growth, of rising tides—

But whose boat sinks, and who abides?

The poor man’s tax, the worker’s sweat,

Are digits in a secret debt.

No leak you’ll hear, no siren sound—

Just wealth transferred, and hearts unbound

From hope, from care, from common grace,

Replaced by his stone, starless face.

---

And still the cold code spreads its roots,

In policy and prized pursuits.

From Vietnam’s resorts to UAE’s gold,

A story bought, and sold, and told.

Each transaction bears a chain—

A hospital bed, a child’s pain,

A meal removed, a check unsigned—

All logged and locked, and redesigned.

Till all that’s public, all that’s shared,

Is pixel-dust and empty air.

And he, enthroned in data streams,

Rules over vanished community dreams.

---

Final Stanza:

So builds the empire, strong and vast,

On algorithms meant to last.

The treasury bleeds a silent red—

The Grifter lives, the poor are dead.

And in the cold, unblinking glow,

The world becomes his great Roman show.

While far below, in dark and drift,

Lies every sacred, stolen grift.

---

Crafted in the era of the ghost ledger,

where every fortune is a silent debt,

and every emperor is a code-embedded grifter.

The Forecast

Black Pearl

Blaq Roc Forecast Chronicles Vol. I:

Spectrum Wave publishing

Copyright@2026

So you see, Marcus… My worst days were a layered hell.

To face the enemy’s fire was one thing.

To face the contempt of your own command, another.

But to come home and be hunted by your own government—to have your service erased, your activism smeared as treason, your very love criminalized—that was a special kind of warfare.

They wanted us to be silent. They wanted us gone.

But here I am. And here you are.

In this room, with these records, with this truth.

I survived the trenches, the silence, the Red Scare, and the Lavender Scare.

And I left it all for you—not as a burden, but as a weapon.

Knowledge, son. Knowledge of the game.

Because all money, all power, flows from the same fields.

And if you understand the field… you can learn how to grow something new in it.

Let this be your forecast:

The storm never really ends.

But you can learn to read the clouds.

And you can build a shelter strong enough to weather whatever comes next.

I was your mentor.

Now you are the keeper of the chronicle.

See clearly.

Speak truly.

And never let them make you feel you don’t belong.

---