All Along

The minute I heard my first love story,
I started looking for you, not knowing
how blind that was.
Lovers don't finally meet somewhere.
They're in each other all along.”
― Rumi

The Light Within The Dark

he who circumscribes the diameter of your thinking,
controls the circumference of your living......

check yourself,
Are you satisfied and the life your living
you sure tis God you're serving?

who made ol these rules,
wats the purpose of ol these schools?

now they say we need mo lawyers and doctors,
true
but we also need more sons like Walter Rodney
too
mo revolutionist and revolutions whatever their form,
soon

water the dreams of our sons, let them believe wat we preach,
lest they figure we can't teach them manhood so they take to the streets,
find their piece through raising the heat....
we will rest them in peace
as we bury them six feet deep

and the wine press shall be empty, none to serve
and the grinder shall be still, the wheel none to swerve
the silver cord shall break at half
and the cloaked man shall read his verse
for we shall have seen the black hearse
and the bloodied sky shall wet the earth
and every breathe we take shall be one closer to our last
then we will know time has come to pass

and we shall awaken,
our transgressions shaken,
and the sons shall be raised
and the generation praised,
not for not being broken,
but rising above it, towards the word that was spoken,
a great word born to last,
for bringing back the wisdom of the past
for being the continents greatest art,
for being the light that is within the dark.

heich.

Paint you pink

What we is ,
        Not what we not,
What we see ,
         Not what we thought,
Cruel reality,
         Swindling what we bought,

What we give,
        Suffices what we receive,
The air we breath,
        In gloom we sink,
A cancerous need,
        I paint you pink,
And to think,
What I see,  ain’t what it be
Tha purple haze…….,
Destined to carry me away

                        heich

Ballad to Soul

What we is, what we be
Secrets shared between you and me
Dreamy future, what we used to see,
Better if, we’d stuck to reality.

What we thought,
For thirty talents, sold n bought,
Our soul’s n minds, confusion lost
From cruel reality, lessons taught
You and me,
Rebels without a cause,
Battles fought
What we fought for,
Up until now,
For what? we know not
But I guess in this battle fields, tis we, we sought
In pursuit of what we are and what we are not.

Back then,
All we had, we had to give,
Free spirits still, regardless of what we receive
But now see,
Every action conceived,
Like your every action is out to deceive,
With every action I come closer to being bereaved.
Benefit of hindsight, this I didn’t perceive,
That you would be to me, a cancerous need,
A need from which I yearn to be free,
A victim or an advocate, of vanity n greed?
You see it all started with a single seed
A rolling turmoil ever since,
A single vice never suffice,
Hollows the inside before raising the surface.

Gone with half a life, the rest so cold,
True story hushly told
This a ballad to my soul

heich
knowledge of self be the first castle.......

Symptoms za Freedom

The
world

 is hollow yet it's full of crap, prepare to gamble.
I give you a handful of chips
tips on what's to come.
av cried a ton of tears,
drunk a tons of beer.
It's fun and fears
but learn to persevere throughout the years,
kept my ears open, eyes looking mouth locked.
Don't rock the boat- if you can't swim,
nobody may be there with a limb to lend,
a truth painful; yet unbend
too much church got them saying we need a modern day Moses.
new testament in hand, written in the blood of coming generations

But the leaders are scheemers and posers
what we need us is some soldiers
It's a post coloial generation.
the anger in a nation,
got the writing on the wall so clear that I can taste it.
Like a kid sniffin' glue somewhere tryin' escape it,
cause we vulnerable and naked got to show them
we can
we will make it

The Need for Rastafari

Fifty years ago, Ethiopian Emperor Haile Selassie I visited Jamaica, one of the most memorable and frenzied events to have taken place here. It's not that all Jamaica was enamoured by the Rastafarians' claim that God had visited Jamaica. It was just that we dared not ignore Rastafari. Then.
Today, his grandson has come to visit on the 50th anniversary, and there is no such national excitement over his visit. Rastafari holds neither the threat nor the promise it did 50 years ago. It has largely been conquered by Babylon, enjoying greater influence and support in exile than at home. Rastafari has been eclipsed by the forces of globalisation or, more properly, by cultural imperialism.
As a cultural resistance, Rastafari is a largely spent force. Or perhaps one could say, at best, that what we are witnessing is not so much its decline as evidence of its success: The things it fought for are now taken for granted. It has been so successful, its influence now so mainstreamed that we are tempted to say it has outlived its usefulness.

The Rastafarians have given us a lot. They forced black consciousness on many Christian churches which had a Eurocentric Gospel and which could not entertain a black representation of Christ.
Today, it is no longer radical for Christians to talk about a cultural identity as part of Christian identity. Even Evangelical Christians are now saying that black consciousness and Black Power can be taught alongside going to Heaven and accepting the Lord Jesus. Church liturgy and music have been significantly impacted by Rastafari acceptance of our cultural expressions and forms. We must never underestimate the positive impact Rastafari has made on us as a society, and how much we are indebted to this despised, oppressed and formerly marginalised group.

When we could only see God through the eyes of our colonisers and oppressors, Rastafari taught us to see a God in our own image. And what we were taught as the unvarnished, unadulterated Gospel, we later discovered, not least of which through Rastafari-influenced perspectives, were simply Western cultural baggage under the guise of universality. We must pay homage to Rastafari for opening our eyes to the deception foisted on us by Babylon.

Our youth need something beyond just grasping for prosperity. Prosperity has to have a philosophical foundation. If it is driven by sheer narcissism and an obsession with wealth and glory - what Rasses call vanity - then can't sustain a nation. Our social-media generation is hooked on the hip, the trendy, the cool things as defined by an American culture of hedonism and atomism. The medium is the message. Our youth are committed to nothing beyond themselves and their narrow dreams.

Read More _Ian Boyle

To Chi and Beyond

Maybe am afraid It'll spit fire
In this hearts streets and illuminate like night

Or perhaps spit water
Into these barren womb and give life
now see the things that pulls the heart to fight
Is the same things that pulls a human being to the light:
The love of love
A means to cope

They say that love will come
Like a whisper in the night
yet perhaps we shall see love come
through the pen when we write
In the pain that we bleed
perhaps in things that we read
And the things we recite

So I try to inhale her dreams and exhale hope
my man told me either she  feel it or don't
So all you want, you can inhale her dreams and exhale hope
But you better also treat her right and understand what she wants

"The most high will not change the persons condition,Until the person changes the condition that's in themselves,"

In short, empress believe, I won't falter
Steady as island rock
Swift traversin' waters
Verses  authored,

I offer
As a solemn sacrifice upon her altar
In order to alter
The current conditions
make we better lovers, better Sons and better Fathers

Because we are caught in a culture
Of defeatism, worshipping victims and martyrs
empress divine we are not victims but victors
If we but witness or honor
your brilliance, your resilience and for sure your beauty is farther
with or without the don chici, fendi, Gucci and Prada

thoughts of loosing you got me shook in a trauma
heart in terror that supercedes Al Qaeda and Osama
palms sweaty damm Karma
moist lips damm mama
like in a dream
But we caught in a coma
Sleep

so see you came to me
Like a whisper in the night
But if you're awake, you'll hear it
through the pen when we write
In the pain that we bleed
In the things we recite
love will come
Like a whisper in the night
Being awake, I've learned
Is the essence of life

Bismillah ir Rahman ir Rahim