Wednesday, November 25, 2009

An Apology to My Readers

Sorry.











Just kidding. Seriously though, I know that for the longest time I've turned my blog into this deposit for my creative writing (poems & raps) and haven't had a "real" blog post in a really long time. Part of that has to do with my being divided on what I should ultimately make this blog. (Well that and because I had actually started up a 2nd blog back in April but that was more for introspective, analytical, personal, and even professional content as compared to this one which is mostly for my creative juices to collect into half-gallon cartons to be sold on the market.

I know in my very first entry (I believe) I said I was going to make this a variety blog with all sorts of topics and surprises and I see how far from that idea I've strayed and I really would just like to apologize to those [few?] who actually [read?] my blog [lol?] or check up every now and then at least to see if I'm still (A:) alive (B:) crazy or (C:) creative. I hope that I can qwell your concerns by saying that I am still all three of these, by the grace of God. Soooo basically I'm writing this as a disclaimer and I guess as a cheezy promo for future posts, rants, and projects to come (once I finish my semester in approx. 3 weeks.) So please continue to stay tuned my loyal loonies! I love you all.
-prisoner #786 (a.k.a Ruhudeen Ali a.k.a -yea right im not writing my real name ;p)

p.s- methinks Rolfina needs to come out for another stroll very soon....

Monday, November 23, 2009

The Deen Show Interviews Ex-Rapper Napoleon

Brother Mutah Beale (Aka "Napoleon") + Brother Eddie from The Deen Show + topic of faith = Great interview! :) Much respect.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Make You Proud, Mama

By Ruhudeen Ali
11/17/09

Now ever since I learned the color scheme
in the days of my pre-teens you taught me 'there'll be,
a solution for everything except death'
'character is in your hands son, then comes respect'
Mama, you always prepared me for the road ahead
and you know your boy is prone to reflect
but at times I'm confronted by challenges unmet
cuz life's been throwing me left and right hooks
I can't make it make sense even with the right books
paths ahead of me not sure which one I took
of saints and crooks I fear I might've mistook
looking at the path with the less light
even though I'm blessed right I'm shook,
too obsessive over depressed nights
unhealthy like pain from an abscess site
at times left to feign like an actress might
my dear Mama.

Feelin like a distressed knight but not dressed right
with this broad sword in hand but no real plans
and a righteous word but no mission
that childhood you gave me I'm missin
that kind of peace I was seekin through prayer and wishin
in other words the 'religion of submission'
but my prayers are like dissin cuz most of em are missing
from lack of clear vision like I'm far-sighted but not distant
I'm here sittin, feelin stricken by my thinkin
cooking in the kitchen, sickened by my condition
meanwhile people are climbing up positions
passing me by, earning provisions
cuz I'm on the road's shoulder
I can't catch up cuz you see I got this stone boulder
like everyone's burdens are dumped on my broad shoulders
my face suggests the remnants of harsh torture
narcissistic gone ballistic feelin hectic
self-reproached at times with a death wish
outside lookin plastic inside its drastic
the walking contradiction, seeking to give reparation to the nations
I'm seeing out-patients but inside I'm impatient
my soul's derision results in self-infliction, and the absence of wisdom
to better times got me reminiscing.

But with all this in the background
do I still make you proud?
Like when me and you go out and everybody shouts out a "Wow,
wish my son could be like yours" they say
"he's got that charm and good-boy sway"
and all I can say is "oy vey"
that's like dousing a wound with a soy sauce tray
its like what they say they parlay
and wager like im something major
calling for my attention like a surgeon's pager
Ma, I wanna do something major to make you proud
but right now I feel lamer than the crowd
knowing you want me to earn some titles like pronouns
but I'm stuck in a showdown between aspirations and abilities
spiritually, in-between taxation and tranquility
One day I'm gonna earn my pay
and with your prayers I'll find my way
as a man and hold the hand of a fair maiden
married with children, my dreams you contract em
by your conversations with the Lord who enacts em
the ultimatim - is to serve the both of you til adieu
no matter how much I give for your love
I can never make due
Mama, I will always and forever love you.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Blank Sheet

By Ruhudeen Ali
11/10/09

Blank sheet, spare me your empty speech
come to me instead with joyful glee
tell me a story that's just about you and me
take me across the world's seven seas
without me having to say 'please.'

Show me the place of ideas again
I don't care if its a lovely terrace or lonely shed
for right now, my intelligence has fled
I need to be where couplets are bred.

Endow me with inspirational thoughts
accompany me on my lonely walks
you should know me by now, my life you stalk
but you cannot write me a word, like a broken chalk.

In days long past, you would send me gifts to my bed
in my dreaming state couplets would dance 'round my head
moments like this I did not have to dread
wondering whether it's my brain or pen that is dead.

But now seeing you is no longer the same
you and I together, it's no longer a game
words strung together can only be so lame
when spoken from apparent lack of pain.

I face you now with glimmering hope
won't you lend me some colors from your kaleidoscope?
In this chair and quiet solitude, only you are my host
together there's no hoax, we must make this the most.

So now with pen I write fresh new lines
hoping there's quotes for tomorrow's times
of writing, an example that shines
of a work I can claim as mine!

And now you are no longer blank
the cogwheel of mind can do without the crank
I wonder at times, if this was all your silly prank
but I care not anymore, it is to you I owe my thanks.