Monday, May 25, 2015

misssing out on illusion


miss out. that's been the lesson over and over and over. brooklyn artist scene taught me this. miss out. 

bk  parties were fly. everyone was fly. perpetrating artist cool. i was. 

wanting to get down. really down. how? by missing out. that's what i forgot tonight, this evening. didn't want to be in the out, daydreaming on what i'd miss at the coffee house here. ebbed. fell back in the space that cuzin's dad was in last year, when he hollered at his soon to be daughter-in-law. 

forgive him, i said. life is full of ebbs and flows. we need each other as reminders, unless we are just really good at taking the lessons and growing deeper in purpose. 

i get good at it sometimes. stay clear. focused. uncompromised like the moon's orbit. like the 28 year old revolution of saturn. 

hey  saturn, you wanna hit Alpha Centauri, the quasi-neighboring solar system? there's sposed to be some fly comets tonight. real fly. 

saturn responds without a word. stays in worship in its orbit. for years. forever. in islam. 

my homegirl spits Qur'an. knows it well enough to inspire a nod of apprecitation from me. she is running in circles through the drunken streets of pan-african bk nights. knights in shiny outfits and doo's that cost half a day, appear at the rooftop cool with a pose. 

post-indigenous-soul is a soul culture bent on vogue on being so committed to mundane, that, look at me, that, idolize me. like pharoahs. 

la illaha illalla.

paused. peace, i say. left. but i knew before we linked. i knew from jumpstreet, when the undercovers of iblis' team whispered fun, and possibilities, maybe wifey materials...

...word, i nodded, as i strutted out the crib in i'm the man, like it was friday 1999, like i was stuck in a saturday night fever...

and even though i get worship and spirituality and maya and yogic science and vedic mantra and dinacharya and sattvic frequency, beats and rhymes were playing, and fly guy came out.

the music of the pied piper, of fela and bob, an alternative cool to frnechie and ross, lured me. army shirts, dimples and game...damn...still...still slip into this...just for seconds, but still...

walk with purpose, blood, atiyo, bhaiya, apa, ahkee...

let purpose govern your moves...

fly like an eagle, like a dolphin, tiger style like a shaolin master, scorpion asana like a meditating swami...and everything else.

write. wriite like the graveyard

...and goto the yards of stoop giveaways for paper and a pen, and some groceries from the coop...

...and let these spaces in between work, in between writing and making medicine and asana and massage, be the social interactions of sup love how you doing. lett this be the space of reverence for and with elders and young, men and women...

...worship them and invite them for dinner, for meditation, for practicing asana and writing ciphers, and massage exchanges, and a hike through a mountain to pray...

thing is i forget. i forget what i'm supposed to be doing, forget that i'm supposed to be doing this like this, that i have options that i can be clear about...

...working on an album, you want to come to the studio and chill, and spit with me? add some music or art or some film strips for storyboarding a video...

...building on this asana sequence, want to practice? want to try it out? 

writing saturday at gimmee, would love your company for a tea, coffee and side conversations...

...reading wretched of the earth, fanon. heard of him? want to be in a book club with me? take morning walks, jog when the sun is sinking, but not too low, cause maghrib...but you can join me for any of these.

fasting for 10...would love your community in this...stay over... we can squeez broccolli into juice, kale into lymph...

...chess, scrabble, siesta, builidng community...

...can i interview about this? community? education, in finding it's soul, in building sanctimonious, accountable, intergenerational, modest, humble, warrior, surrender-communities.

...miss out and fold deeper in purpose until your spine is straight over your leg.

...miss out and learn from masters...everyone is great at something...

I will hang tonight if you read me a poem, if I can share a poem with you, if I can interview you...if you will do 7 chand namaskar asanas with me and if you tell me about your artistic process...




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