music || 'Mesmerize' - Ja Rule & Ashanti

DISCLAIMER: THIS POST DISCRIMINATES AGAINST UN-REPENTING CRIMINAL MINDS

Oh, nobody ever told you? You are right to think that you are right.
Be YOU today, everyday, and in every way. Look in that mirror, smile, and don't say sorry.
Watch your eyes as you smile, they tell you one or two things, my friend. Of the man that you should be, they will tell you. They will tell you too, of the man that you once were.
To focus on who your are now, wander through the eyes, until you find the eye of the mind.
Three things I hope you have for focus: STRENGTH, CLARITY and COMPASSION. With these, you will look and see; see and understand. You will find all that you are now: battle marks and all the glory. I hope you still smile, and do not say sorry.
Know now that tomorrow, you will become a sibling to who you once were, and that, my friend, will be a COURSE on evolution.
One day you will look at your reflection and find memories in every line upon your face. Memories of all the smiles that you never apologized for, and all the YOU's that you rightfully were. Nobody will have to tell you: You're very right, my friend. Right to think that you were right.                                    

The Garden Bleeds

I never knew a love like this. My pen, she beckons me with whispered longings...wanting only, to scribe the promised fortitude found while exposing me. She searches; she walks, as I walk, straight into me: into this far away temple, unkempt, within me. The pen knows this jungle of a heart, and won't let it be. Seeking to plant a garden for scorching days, and a fountain of promised wishes. No more aging temple, no more ravaging jungle. It's an ambitious longing of this pen, for I, you see? Incense of the gods, diffuse, as my pen walks into me. A temple of the past, awoken now, to the fragrance of several tomorrows: a fortitude of beauty's enduring poise. Every line on these palms, she exposes. Each line, composed of an eager tale, bleeding. See this love of the pen, for I; see the blood of my mind's eye. On paper, hard at work to bust these veins, I let love shine through, holding her with a bleeding palm. I bleed the incense of the gods, now. I see tomorrow's promised wishes, now. My veins broken, and my heart throbbing; I know love for this pen, for she has drenched me in blood. I work hard, tilling the garden, as she pours the incense in the fountain. I am now tomorrow's promised wishes. I am now blood. I am the incense of the gods. I have been exposed: exposed to love.

music language & appreciation || 'Sorrow, Tears and Blood' - FELA Kuti

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Sorrow, Tears and Blood: Their Regular Trademark

            Fela Anikulapo Kuti was a Nigeirian musician, and is the grandfather of Afrobeat music: a fusion of funk, jazz and West African Highlife.  A rich engagement of instruments, polyrhythmic sounds, and a great deal of syncopation, characterize the Afrobeat music. Following the richness and unpredictability of sound, Fela Kuti’s lyrics are mostly controversial, precisely reflecting the true situation in the Nigerian government, and with the Nigerian people. Fela was a Human Rights Activist and a Political Maverick and so, free-thinking naturally served as the theme of his music and his life. It comes as no surprise that Fela is still heavily identified with around the world, as a force of action, giving his unique sound and potent lyrics. Across Nigeria, and some parts of the world, his music, even without the lyrics stir up memories of a certain era, just as if it were an image or a piece of literature. 
             Indeed, Fela Kuti’s music has been pervading the global music scene very quickly in recent times, and in spite of the language barrier, people of different descents find his music to be quite magnetic.  He is ranked in the HMV Magazine, as No. 46— six places below Michael Jackson—on the list of 100 most influential musicians of the 20^th century.  The song, ‘Sorrow, Tears and Blood’ by Fela Kuti was released in 1977, following a violent experience with the Nigerian military and government, and the 1976 Soweto uprising in South Africa in which students rioted. This Fela song is one unlike majority of his discography, which are usually very metaphorical and emotive. Fela employs direct language in this song, succinctly drawing the listener into the situation at the scene of the events, and straight to the heart of the message, as though it were a real time event, preceding a conversation with him, Fela.  With such direct language, he paints a real time, vivid picture of violent acts of authority, in almost a way that, however oppressive these actions, the listener is left thinking of authority in light of cowardice.

            Fela breaks into the second verse, with a seemingly evolved agenda. He uses extreme depictions of fear that seem unreal at first, but unhurriedly awaken a subliminal truth within us, of the expression of these extreme fears in our everyday lives. Still, using the plainest words. Fela Kuti employs minimal metaphors in this work, but uses cliché’s, not forcefully delivered, and neither disguised, but directly tendered with a clear intention to our everyday state of mind; as if to say “you have been caught”. 

            The opening instrumentation almost communicates the genesis of a play. Fela also, occasionally, mimics the sound of a police troop on their motorcycles.  In my opinion, these are all language, and serve as part of the reason why I have never experienced a song the way I experience this one. ‘Sorrow, Tears and Blood’ plays on the understated illusion of liberty and control often adopted by a people, when they are most evidently under oppression. Fela Kuti uses this song to tear this veil of illusion by hitting us with language, so untarnished and unshakeable, that it might as well serve as a rock to a veil. When I listen to the song, I ponder about how thin a line exists between ‘power’ and ‘cowardice’, and the use, misuse and disuse of power.

                                                                                                                         

music || 'Somebody Already Broke My Heart' - Sade

music || 'Sweet Disposition' - Temper Trap

rituals on the ocean. low tides, it's 5am. rituals at the beach. the birds perform, as do I. tradition as sure as the sun rise. rituals of the sky & the ocean & I. temple or body. ritual & tradition. emancipation with freedom. religion & the lies. The temple should first be the body. Good for goodness sake should always be the ritual, for in our actions, we pray. The SEED of tradition is this prayer: THE RITUAL. freedom is the fruit. As a tree comes alive and a forest breathes, so do we, when we seek emancipation from the definitions of men. redefine love. And life. And 'quality of'. And know that these are your religion. For in our actions, we pray. It's 5am. The ocean tides are low. The birds, with the sun, know THEIR religion. #Godbepraisedalways

music || 'You Got Me' - The Roots ft/ Erykah Badu

music || 'Slow' - Kylie Minogue

This is a journey I hope to embark on with you my lady.
You will see the sights and hear the sounds, experience the movement every time our souls mingle. Do you not feel them? They walk out into the great outdoors and those heavenly bodies, they applaud them for the way that they stir each other. Let us be two, and not one my love: that's another person's recipe for loving. In your magnetic simplicity and subtle complexities, I want all of you. Let me call you Home, just like I felt the day we met.
You know, Khronos watches with the others in the sky, as we stir one another: I pull you into me, and you pull me some more. He finds our mingling befitting to last a little while: Cherished memories for you and I. Let him -Khronos- hold time for us. Have no worries, The man you marry will have you, just not while we walk this walk.. Heaven's still watching us. Your husband will have you some day and this is what I would out rightly promise: if we match each other's work while we have one another, whoever catches you for both love and family, would desire to have you by his side through every lifetime. With me, a spectacular woman is what you would become. You'll leave me, in the least, a gift to the world, and you, I would leave a gift to many lifetimes and changing universes. I cannot make your promises for you... But I want you. (Let's walk on that lane that never seems to end.) Use me ma cherie. Tell me that your love can conquer fear because mine is ready to.

seasons, species and land. this is the earth that shelters us... this is the stuff it's made of. Yet, they remain beyond comprehension, the system and miracle with which plants, animals, soil and weather know a purposeful existence. With each entity that exists-utilitarian or aesthetic-a recipe for progress, and sometimes transcendence is the outcome. All I say is, Honor the physical, circumstantial, biological & emotional units of YOUR PACKAGING. Trust & Respect the Almighty's command of not only the Factory, but the Owner's manual... Know that you are a recipe & a perfectly delivered package. Not delivered to over-populate, but to overcompensate and re-create love and peace and progress: the stuff of the earth, the stuff of the living! 

In writing to express emotion. A few, when sad, will write about the swans' glide upon a lake spotted with wild lotus flowers. Others, sad also, will attempt to drag the planets of the galaxy far into the ground with words. Each person with their literary disposition: Some Poised, like a sculptor's work of art, others bearing the disposition of a starving tiger. Packaged emotions, is all it is.

you define your relationship with the world. you, alone. choice-making is the ultimate art form. choose accordingly everyday.

i dont think about you. i never do. i do, however feel you on the occasion. and when i do, i immediately feel tears flood me. and it ends.

Let me know the fire, and its hot meal

Sometimes, before deciding that change is the answer, aim to first only understand. understanding ourselves is sometimes all we need to make the strengths triumph over the weaknesses. it doesn't mean we changed the weakness, or it went away. it just means we have accepted to free ourselves. freedom is life.

a text msg from me to a friend:

You told me once: life is a balance between what we want and what others want. I agree. To take it further, life takes the form of a 'broken boundary', and can only be illustrated, demonstrated and captured, but not encapsulated by singularity. So, to further the former definition, life is a balance between security and freedom, in every waking moment and within every art of decision-making.

must seek Jah's wisdom, to see the strength in the difficulty, the courage in the danger and prosperity in our hands. "Turn painful to graceful."

if justice were appropriately defined in this world, compassion would be in its place, and not spearheading a cause, where justice is required.

When the devil attempts to try us, he is hunting for God. So, we must encourage him to try harder. All is to the glory of God #alwaysbelieve

Think NIRVANA. Enter NIRVANA. And meet the enemy WITHIN. This world holds a great number of people fighting us in order to fight THEMSELVES. ..Enemy lines..

Whatever u place a tight grip on in life, will always pose a threat to your peace of mind. You will bear "crucifixion" for ITS OWN SAKE.
We must find the basis of our identity: What we are fastened to. Observe it, as it is often an incentive for the choices we make. And when we do, we must Master it like a light switch.

Lust is a confusing and confused emotion. It steals from all the ones we thrive on, and creates & re-creates the ones we need less of.

I have seen sadness. Of such depths that I could but only live in one moment. Every care about tomorrow, I handed to the wind. To set the future ablaze, if I could, I would. To feel pain over loss & to be-yourself- lost, all at once. Certainly u do not wish to entertain life's gimmicks for another day. Let tomorrow get lost in time, while u drench urself in ur battle to cry out memories of an everlasting moment.

Burst your veins hard at work to open your heart

The Theater of the Mind. Where your minutest fears operate the deadliest weapons. And your greatest hopes are left in search of a plough. It's funny down there, you know..

If you're to be like water, you will find that not only the man in the mirror, but the mirror itself is you. Let time calm you a little and you'll find your reflection in your problems.

And I'm grateful. When I die & I turn to dust, I pray to combine with the earth willingly & w/ gratitude. Grateful is all I pray to become.

A mastermind is either of two things: the Great Debater on the subject, or the Creative Scientist. So total competence or pure innovation.

Time does beautiful things, at the price of patience. The beholders are but the humane.

Sometimes the ego needs only be observed, and not fed. Take a moment to realize what brings it glory and What causes it shame.

as i remember an old movie, i re-live my days of 'effortless magic'. calm days.
a time when the only romance of contentment i knew, was that which involved film. at first, i found water guns, and discovered one-man plays with the guns. then it was bicycles, and then one man plays with those as well. then the video games came and brought me a stage: i acted out these adventures and triumphs and hits, for hours a day. oh lovely! how so lovely! because there i was and there was music: statuesque. day dreaming, time-traveling over sound and words: life-giving. but i still knew no addiction without chains. in a day-or was it all my life-i found film!.....the greatest companion to music...the conversation with life... the mirror in and of life. i love all these still, and i am glad to say my heart's not a lonely place; but less content, indeed it is. my heart beats 'fortissimo', for i have known the magic of life since She gave me life. Statuesque: She must be music and film and many calm days and great triumphs. SHE is.

And when I awoke to another day-tomorrow, as they say-I realized I knew you only yesterday. With clarity of vision, I saw that tomorrow would never lure you in upon its arm. Yesterday-forever is what I call the desert road your memories could not survive. Upon the thought of u, I see a mirage,but this one holds no promises ahead...it sits still in the past. I'll think of you in the summer rain...deserted pain

Dark room and negatives. Greenhouse and seedlings. I'm loyal to the process as God is my witness. Time's beauty is its loyalty: the beholder's but the humane.

And let the man, the little man, drag the planet and its entire solar sisters below ground. Not the lightest one did he choose: From the emotional moon he carries himself, suspended-he jumps-and pours himself over this Jupiter. Let the man into the soul of the entire solar system: he's weighty with passions of the heart; he's falling with pain and finds little gain in the blue of the sky nor the stars that shine. Let him pull out the waves of his emotion..the frequency of his very demise. No Cosmic Octave.. No Ocean waves... In no way is this little man alive.

I must see something far. Blue and covering great mass. I must see something far, a moving lake upon which little doves bathe.
I must sea little and great things far.