Encapsulated Rebel

By Ruhudeen Ali
April 17th, 2009

Patience wearing thin
from this encaged thing
uncomfortable under the skin
just what is it within?
Losing touch with kin
lost among the sin
playing games in the suffering
searching for something.

Soul is an encapsulated rebel
seeking to revel in the sweets of the devil
falling into trouble peace it can't settle
digging our own graves with the shovel
living in a bubble numb to the rubble
falling down to tumble cursing the humble

No fear of the tremble
forgetting the parables
destroying the temples
dancing to the ensemble
riding hellfire's shuttle
exploring new damned levels
your fellow man is the imbecile
there are funds to embezzle
the world's lost all its mettle
of the iron brave kettles
looks are pretty but states are disheveled
families are dismembered
and the people are transgendered
what has society rendered
when everything once engendered
is now thrown in the blender
the devil is the devil
but the devil man resembles

Feeling irritable the soul is abominable
enemy armies are formidable
yet the spirit remains indomitable
love contained in the fortress isn't imitable
unattainable to the devil
no matter how much is paid under the tables
sabers cannot conquer the untold glorious fable
of you and I and what we are able
to accomplish with just a wish, the world is our navel
carve a new path, cast aside all the labels
explore as naval commander, set free and enable
others who think themselves disabled

Those chasing after bezels
forgetting life is ephemeral
giving back to the Lender
going back to the Sender
narrowly passing by a margin slender
joining Paradise's members
without trying to offend her
it's this life, I wanna end her.

1 Litre of Tears - The Diary of Aya Kitou

Chapter 1:
14 Years Old (1976-77) - My Family

"Mary Died"

"Today is my birthday. How big I've grown! I think I should thank Mom and Dad. I'm determined to get better grades and be much more healthier so that I won't disappoint them. That's part of the reason why I want to enjoy the prime of my life. I don't want to have anything to regret in the future. I'm going to a school camp the day after tomorrow. I must study hard to finish my homework, otherwise I won't feel free. Keep it up, Aya!

Tiger, the neighbors' fierce dog, bit Mary on the neck, and she died. Tiger is big, but Mary was very small. She went up to him wagging her short tail to show she was friendly.

"Mary, no! COME BACK!" I shouted desperately, but . . . She died without being able to cry out. That must have been so frustrating for her. If she hadn't been born a dog, she wouldn't have had to die so soon. Mary, I hope you'll be happy wherever you are!

Our new house is finished. The big room on the east side of the second floor is like a castle for me and my younger sister, Ako. It has a white ceiling and the walls are brown veneer. The scenery through the windows is different from what I'm used to. I'm happy we have our own room, but a big room makes me feel a bit lonely. I wonder if I'll be able to sleep tonight?

Starting in a fresh mood!
1. I should wear T-shirts and pants (more comfortable for moving around in).
2. Daily tasks:
*Watering the garden
*Weeding
*Checking if there are any insects on the backs of the leaves of the tomato plant I planted
*Checking for lice on the leaves of the chrysanthemums and getting rid of any I find at once
3. I mustn't neglect my studies!
4. Besides all these, I should record what happens everyday in my diary . . . without fail.
I order myself to do all these things."

- from 1 Litre of Tears

Our Prime

By Ruhudeen Ali
April 10th, 2009

Children laugh and rush out the door of the house.

A Fresh breeze, birds and trees rejuvenate without doubt.

Playing games and past-times to the sound of wind chimes

music plays to the gestures of ecstatic mimes.

A moment is created eternally sublime.

A foreboding gust wrestles the leaves suddenly.

A storm gathers the theives.

"We've got to leave" shouts a voice aloud.

Beating rainfall trekking back with aches and pains.

Dark clouds shroud the achievements of the proud.

Looking back, why were we so numb?

It's time to go back inside to where we came from.

Amazing Creature

By Ruhudeen Ali
April 3rd, 2009

Isn't she an amazing creature?
In her prancing and going about
she leaves all wonders left to envy.
But admirers of her form, without a doubt,
don't understand the allure contained even deeper!
Oh what splendid Divinity did make this graceful beauty?
In futility the lush world mimics her every feature
all attempts to convey her praises, in reality,
exist beyond the poets' nomenclature.

She is woman; wife, mother, daughter, sister, neice,
As mother, she is man's very first teacher.
Of compassion all other creatures only share a piece
Suffice it to say that Heaven itself lies at her feet!
As wife, she is man's perfection of peace
she will help support you in every task and feat.
As daughter, from hellfire's sears she is man's protecting sheet
she strengthens man to leap beyond any and every difficulty.
As sister and neice, she is the rose of every family
helping you smile even in defeat.

In every way she is the pair to man.
If he is the rugged arm she is the delicate hand.
If he is the table spread she is the supportive stand.
He is the grazing sheep and she is the supple land.
How can she continually supply
when she's so much in demand?

An amazing creature she is, woman is her name
all who encounter her majesty will never again be the same!

The Goal That is Sought

The Goal That is Sought"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
by Ruhudeen Ali
October 9th, 2005


My mind is a frontier awaiting to be known and explored.
I once traveled from thought to thought misguided by maps,
until I realized the wayfarer is the better guide for the tour.
From him I learn what I cannot find from those printed traps.


They say, "Beware! follow a path that has already been paved with footprints clear!"
But I see those prints leading to places I wouldn't fare - so I reply, "I hardly fancy the
snare!"
Right then and there, I decided to make my own trail; for I imagine my destination is near.
My footprints will set a new precedent to follow for those who dare.


But why this insecure feeling I bear? Do I hesitate in making my own mark?
Afterall, did not those before me experience the same thoughts?
And yet this is my own land, my own mind, my own heart!
"If I'm barred from making such a path, then who else dare start!?"
Reassured within, I gallantly lift my head far from naught.


And suddenly the thought harbors a new fear; I realize there's no record of anyone being here.
With no maps and wayfarer to help steer, I must rely on this fragile being called "self."
I take for granted that I will return to everything once held close and dear.
Hopeful, and yet foolishly I shout, "Perhaps this new land will grant me great fame and wealth!"


And before I know it, the seemingly fertile land begins to transform to my surprise.
What I had first imagined turned out to be a toxic marsh disguised as a mirage!
Could it be, the maps were true and wise? And all the while the wayfarer only told lies!?
"Do not challenge conventional wisdom" - why had I never accepted the adage!?


I was beginning to see that I was misguided by my whims.
Perhaps it was this realization that helped me escape that dark and deceitful prison.
As I gather myself I miraculously stumble upon yet another map!
And without second thought I follow its path, praying to avoid another mishap.


It tells me to take so-and so's path, and wait for an applause.
But even I know that's a detour because I can already see my destination's gate.
So instead I just pause for a bit and meditate.
Instead of turning to a map or the wayfarer again, I start singing a hymn,
I hear a voice inside say, "Forget the map and the wayfarer, those with the hymn find the answer within."


This inner voice threw my heart back to unrest -
"Why do we follow maps if they only begin as humble guess?
It's only time and experience that make them refined and refreshed."
Rethinking it all made me lose desire for my own quest; it was clear I had to redress!


I used to think, "wouldn't it be great if I could make my own map?
Charting each corner of my thoughts, with no gap."
Suddenly it all became clear to me, that my dream to create my own map
was nothing but seeking vanity; more self-righteous crap.


And from that moment on, I realized that maps, wayfarers, and hymns can only take one so far.
It's not about making known one's own teachings, desires, nor disposition.
It's about one's passion to reach the goal of helping others that brings one beyond par.
So instead I now say: Put an end to all your vain-glorious missions.
They only succeed who have selfless visions.