Ramadan Rap

by Ruhudeen Ali
August 29th, 2009

My focus is falling short like a Keebler elf
I'm working on my feebler self
but I'm needing help
from the scripture that we keep on the shelf
searching for somethin spiritual like a feeling felt
Ramadan shows me my deeper self
showing me my spirit's asleep like a sleeper cell
hoping I escape the Reaper's Hell
I wrote this on a freakin Dell
prayer I need this well
so I can grow like a fetus swells
and await the day when Jesus tells
the Law to the people well
and ring the steeple's bell before he'll
make us peep through shells freaked as hell
cuz we can tell the heedless fell
deep in Hell cuz they bleep and yell
stuck in the heathens' jell
in pits with reeking smells
snuck in sales on Adidas' shares
now they're creeps in jail
that act a fool like needless dares
people lost in feeble pairs weakness glares
seekin affairs with fleeting care
mocking vows cuz nobody's keepin theirs

I'm strugglin to keep my prayers
observin the ego slayers
who preach to the evil sayers
I'm eyeing peaches and pears
but I'm fasting and eagerly aware
of the hour when I devour the food shares
and though I'm no sooth-sayer
I can predict we'll meagerly share
the rations among utensils and dinner-ware
pack the rest in tupper-ware
where it goes in the refridgerator for later
masticator's gotta stop eating before fajr prayer
breaking his wudhu cuz he's a flatulator
sitting there with a calculator
figuring when he can eat his apple n' bagel

Yo its rough like the skin of an alligator
meals delayed like procrastinators
appetite's shot like a bullet from the terminator
stop being a hater don't be spiritual girly men
call up a friend and have him come from afar to an iftar
even if he's from Agrabah and his name's Jafar
but yo this ain't Aladdin get to food-grabbin
take a napkin and before Taraweeh take a nap in
the sack bin but don't let your nafs become the captain
that's why you gotta slap him, cap him
put you in control of the cabin
anything to make it happen
so we can reap rewards that we can't fathom
the path is described in the Lord's Canon
supported in the testimony of His banner
all's well when you make Him your daily Planner
so stop the silly banter and pick up the Prophet's mantle
and dismantle all that which is mangled
and make this your Ramadan anthem
crescent moon and star-spangled. Salam

Demetri Martin's "If I"

I first saw this years ago but forgot how funny, unique, and inspirational this is. Maybe it might inspire someone out there....Enjoy!

PART-I


PART-II


PART-III


PART-IV


PART-V


PART-VI

My Song

by Ruhudeen Ali
July 29th, 2004

My song, where is my song? Where could it possibly be? I have searched my entire life for it and as of yet, to no avail. I wander around this earth in hopes that I will encounter it and that it may speak on behalf of what I could never express.... I smile from afar when I think I've found it, only to be let down when I get closer. I feel peace when I recognize a part of its intoxicating tune, but feel unrest when I cannot find it. I try to express this thirst of longing in my heart with words but it is fruitless. When speech's words are exhausted beyond expression and the tongue is tired from her dance; the heart's content is still not met. That is when I search for my song, that it may speak on behalf of my heart - my very essence.


As I explore this world I see young lovers together, embracing one another and picture myself in their shoes, thinking to myself, "that is not my song." I see beautiful women all over the place and picture myself among them but feel in my heart, "that is not my song." I go to fancy restaurants and eat of the gourmet meals and think to myself, "that is not my song." I watch all kinds of movies and feel moved by its drama that I might find myself within it, yet think to myself, "that is not my song." I listen to all kinds of music and search for the mood that soothes me, yet think to myself, "that is not my song." I talk to the rich and hear their stories; trying to identify, and yet I say to myself, "that's not my song." I see all kinds of bribery, trickery, and deceit and feel in myself, "this is not my song." I see the life of the wicked and think to myself, "that is not my song." I enjoy all the luxuries of the world, still feeling unsatisfied, I remind myself, "that is not my song." For my song will bring peace and satisfaction to me and nothing else.


Then I go and speak to the humble and weak, and think to myself, "I hear some of its words." I sit with my brothers and sisters and hear what they have to say, and think to myself, "I recognize this tune." I read the Qur'an and say to myself, "I remember this rhythm." I visualize the Prophet (saw) and his companions (ra) and think to myself, "I feel its beat." I feel the pain and sorrow of longing from them and say to myself, "I'm beginning to hear." I humble myself before my Creator and think to myself, "Could this be my song?" I break down and cry, and cry, and hear it's tune getting louder. Yes, it sounds similar, but still not quite there....


My Lord! I've come to realize, my song is not on this earth, but only with You.


For You are the Singer and everyone dances to Your tune. How can I possibly find what I'm searching for because what I'm searching for is actually You. Traces of Your tune can be heard when I turn here and there, but still the whole melody is not played - anywhere. Running frantically to and fro, I search for Your song in this world but feel rejected and frustrated when I don't find it, so I await Your Glorious surprise and throw myself before You in the hope that You will give me Your tune and pleasure and fulfill for me my purpose in being Your slave. Lord, give life to my heart and help me be who I am meant to be, happy as can be - THIS is my song and I will not fully hear it until I meet You.

The King & The Prince

by Ruhudeen Ali
July 25th, 2004


Oh singers! You who claim that you speak to the hearts! Hear your King and gather around me for His Majesty shall need your assistance. You have talent for speaking from your hearts and the depths of your souls, so I will need you for a task; that you may sing me a song - telling the tale of this one's heart.... This I ask of you all, for his is a tale of sorrow and grief. His is a tale of riches; a tale of poverty.... He is the Prince, and without him my kingdom is lost, for I have no other heir. I need you to rescue him with your song, for by God he will not respond to anything else! My words are of no avail to him, nor are his to me. With each moment that passes, with each heart beat, he awaits your song of redemption to ease his longing to be understood. In my foolishness, I was not able to understand him, but your song will convey to me his grief and true message.


Now hear me, I bid you to go to him. With him are the troops you will need on your task. With these, could you muster up such a thing? Who among you has such talent? Now then, I tell you go see his tears, which will travel down-stream and moisten your words. Go and feel his heart-throbs which will lend rhythm to your words. Go and witness his pain which will give more power to your words. Whereby with these, you shall be able to sing his heart's pain to all. Is this army not enough to support you on your task? Oh, what song is there that can sing the sorrow of this sad Prince?


You must accomplish this task, for I fear that if he is not awoken, our kingdom will be in utter ruin. He, my beloved son, in whom I entrusted the kingdom's daily affairs. He, my beloved son, who strengthened this one and his kingdom and brought honor to it. He, my beloved son, for whom I was doing all. He, my beloved son, to whom I promised so many things. My beloved son, who I neglected and because of my neglect, he suffers me and I him. I now weep for him, and he for me.


I tell you, truly this was not my kingdom from the start, but it was his. My son, although I thought myself wiser, was wiser than His Majesty. I governed my people with firm command, reason, and justice, but he had pity, compassion, and empathy for all in the kingdom. All this time, His Majesty thought he guarded his kingdom well, but failed to realize his kingdom was actually his own son! Oh woe is me! How often does one brush-off that which is closest to him!? How often is one blinded by what he takes for granted!?


So my loyal subjects, I beg you hear the plea of your King and save your Prince! For this I tell you my story, and request thy aid in the restoration of this kingdom of ours, for I address you all, that this kingdom lies in the Prince's heart. If that is not cured by your song, then all is for naught. But if, By God, you succeed you will help the Prince and His Majesty resume our harmony and govern the kingdom with peace once again. Until you accomplish this task, the kingdom must needs suffer and she must be patient, for I can not do the job myself nor can my son on his own, but that we work together. So, go my faithful people! Go and awaken the Prince's heart so that the heart of this kingdom will be restored and peace restored throughout our lands!

Veils

by Ruhudeen Ali
February 16th, 2004

I fear everything is veiled from me....


I fear my hypocrisy is veiled from my eyes

my eyes are veiled by my heart

my heart is veiled by my arrogance

my arrogance is veiled by my sins

my sins are veiled by my desires

my desires are veiled by my understanding

my understanding is veiled by my ignorance

my ignorance is veiled by my knowledge

my knowledge is veiled by my awareness

my awareness is veiled by my perception

my perception is veiled by my self


my self is veiled by the world

the world is veiled by reality

and reality is veiled by my Lord

Lord of all things

Veiler of all veils.

Bully

by Ruhudeen Ali
August 14th, 2009

An unusual kid with unusual kicks
sweater in the summer time
a shy 7yr-old misfit caught up in the mix
sitting quiet in the corner seat
til the devil approached to greet
said 'hey wanna see some things you don't normally see?'
that's when he whipped it out
in the classroom and started to pee
he took the shy kid by his hand
made some demands and if he didn't like it
he fought him in the sands
placed his hands in the boy's netherlands
and threatened to hurt him and his fam
if he didn't take it like a man
the shy boy didn't understand
'why do I follow his demands?'
he asked, still lunch money he had to flash
and be the subject of the bully's private flash
by forking up his cash and snacks
he was spared from getting felt up the ass
his situation became delicate like a glass
for help he couldn't ask
cuz he knew if he did, he'd be put to task
so for two years the boy put up with his trash
being tested and molested, wrestled and harrassed
with time the little boy began wearing a mask
everyday they would bash on the playground
everyday a new perversion found
a playful bully and a tortured victim
separated by the teacher's dictum
til one day it was clear to everyone's vision
the bully had psychotic dispositions
the teacher called him to account, he pout
socked the teacher in the eye
and straight knocked her out
got suspended and was never seen again
but he might as well have left the little boy dead.

Cuz sadly the lil boy learned how to pretend
to show he was alright inside
his whole life he learned how to hide
the outside was a lie cuz inside he cried
struggling through the years he tried
among his peers he was denied
smuggling the tears as he sighed
in pursuit to answer why in the back of his mind
he secretly wanted to die
learned at an early age about heaven and hell
in a place of crayons and school bells
as a teen he continued to decline and nobody could tell
and the further he fell
the deeper he retracted into his shell
searching for relief from his hell
wasn't prepared for his path
enwrapped in satan's wrath
over the years his heart turned black
and got depressed cuz he knew his future got jacked
feeling like God turned His back
on him cuz of the spiritual things he lacked
but one day he snapped
fell prostrate on a mat
and thanked God for everything he had
and now that he's a man
he understands its part of God's plan
the events of his life were meant to expand
his tolerance for feeling damned
even still, at times he rewinds back to the time
when the boy in his mind was subject to crimes
as the grime remains, stained to a time-frame in his mind
and if he could re-write the story he would do it for a dime
and this I can surely say,
since this story is actually mine.

1 Litre of Tears - Chapter 2 (Part-III)

Chapter 2 (Part-III)
16 Years Old (1978-79)

Repentance

The only plant we harvest at Seiryou Junior High is Chinese citron.
When I went to go pick weeds where all these trees were, the guys made fun of my walking.
"What kind of walking is that? You look like a kindergartener."
"Haha you seem eager, your feet is bowlegged."
They laugh saying every possible thing to make me mad. Of course, I ignored them. If I put up with all this, the water in the ocean would be gone. But it was really hard not to cry. Luckily, I was able to keep the tears from falling...

Today something very frustrating happened.
During P.E., I changed and went out to the field.
The teacher said, "Today we'll be running to the park 1km away. Then we'll practice making basketball passes."
My heart thumped. Running,passing...I can't do either.
"Kitou what are you gonna do?"
I dropped my head low and the teacher continued,
"Well, you can have a study hall with O-san." (O-san forgot her P.E. clothes).
Hearing this, I immediately hear my classmate's voices.
"Aww study hall~ how lucky."
I was boiling with anger.
"If you want study hall so much, I'll trade places with you. Even if it's only a day, I wanna switch bodies. Then maybe you'll understand the feeling of a person who can't do anything they want to do."
Everytime I walk, in every step I take, I can feel my unsteady body, it makes me feel weak, I feel humiliated and miserable not being able to do what everyone else is capable of doing. Is that something you can't understand unless you experience it? Even if you can't feel what that person is feeling, I want you to at least try to think in my point of view.
But I think that's hard to do.
Even for me, I only first realized this after it happened to me.

-1 Litre of Tears (The Diary of Aya Kitou)

When I Pass

by Ruhudeen Ali
October 17th, 2007

When I pass from this world
it will be like the flower that withers away.
Dry are its leaves and lifeless its stem
the sky's tears do not revive it.

When I pass from this world
it will be like the winter snowflake.
Its life was in falling and its death upon landing
beautiful and intricate, it melted away.

When I pass from this world
it will be like the autumn leaves.
Countless petals of all colors, all falling down
yet the cycle continues.

When I pass from this world
it will be like the melting of an ancient glacier.
Many eons did it take to reach its peak
only to fade away and become one with the sea.

When I pass from this world
it will be like the orange sunset on a cold spring sky.
Its warm smile deceives the earth's chilly climate
will it ever return to smile upon us again?

When I pass from this world
it will be like the flowing river.
Violently raging throughout its journey
only to find peace and calm when reaching the sea.

When I pass from this world
it will be like the erupting volcano.
Pent up feelings explode in a moment of vulnerability.
Its warm tears scorch the face that released them.

When I pass from this world
it will be like the ballad of the insects upon dusk.
Each different, yet all singing in unison
eulogizing throughout the night.

When I pass from this world,
in my final hour, it will surely be difficult.
Without you by my side,
there is only remorse in looking back.

Game

by Ruhudeen Ali
August 5th, 2009

I contemplate in frees
imagining what life would be
for me without a pedigree
no way to start my family tree
so I freeze
but wait its up for me to believe
I can change degrees like 180s
ain't gettin on my knees for no tease, please
I only accept rings from pre-selected wifeys
so I can pass on the good genes
and my seeds can fight the hood fiends
I know my dreams require green
but I'm feelin yellow n' skimpy like Sailor V
so until the day I can say 'I love thee'
all I can say is "c'est la vie."

But I ain't gonna front for no dame
fools be out here tryin to talk about game
but they're lame so I give em the lane to explain
how to get the girl to change her maiden name
to yours so that it'll be the same
they say ain't no reason for disdain
but there's no need for locket chains
put her budget on pocket change
and she can leave if she complains
but I already got my lion's mane
plus my fame's assured
you already know my game
so take your place and be tame
in this thang I'm the rap king
universally acclaimed
not just self-proclaimed.

Son I got the brains
to retain control over the plains
and unlike your flight simulator games
air traffic gives me control of the planes
I make dough for the insane
but only roll with the sane
I don't snort cocaine
don't wanna end up like someone on a cane
at work who can't operate the crane
trying to numb the pain
so that I go muggin for novacaine
til people sayin things like "dayyum!"
that ain't who I am
that ain't my aim
so flush that down the drain
and put that on the refrain.

I write rhymes in the AM
cuz I'm quick to say em
girls - aint quick to lay em
cuz I respect em like "mame"
and wait for the hour with the dower when I pay em
my rhymin is a mayhem
lyrics killin em like I spray em
call my name in a jam
I got your back, your crew and your fam
I give a smack to Uncle Sam
cuz he don't give jack
not even a lousy gram
blast this out your speakers like "BLAM!"
my lyrics you can cram
but my method can't understand
goddamn I just gave you a plan
now take these commands
and make yourself a man
before you return to the sand!
phew...