Hassan was here... And he blogged today!

From my brother Herchell, my sister Heather, brother Alonzo and myself...

I just wanted to say that I blogged on the last day of the so-called year.

And Happy New Year... Dammit.

Whatever.

So Glad This Year Is Ending... Aren't You?

So I'm at target early Thursday afternoon. Saw a few cats from the group 'Pretty Ricky' up in there. There is a new years concert and they must be staying at one of the hotels around the stadium. Yep, target is right next to the Allstate Arena (capacity 19,000).

I get my generic crystal lite stuff and wander to an open register. There isn't one. A sister comes to an empty register, turns on the light and yells out to me; "Dread! I'm open baby."

Word is born.

So why when I get to the register she runs away to get a camera phone pic and an autograph from the Pretty Ricky cats, leaving us hanging for 7 minutes?

Did I mention she was in her thirties?

And had the nerve to come back and tell the long ass line that she didn't mean to keep us waiting?

Lying stank-grown-ass heifer.



But that wasn't the half, guess what happened later that day?




So I'm at the big ass lie-bury downtown, right and I gotta go.

Real bad.

I know that this spot takes care if its patrons seeing that the place is a showcase here in the city and it hold the name of a great man. And they got auto plastic seat covers. So I go to ask the security guard exactly where they are on the floor I was on and the adventure begins...

I followed his finger to the direction of the bathroom and busted in there. I heard someone chuckle, but I paid them no mind. I went to the end stall and took off my overcoat and sport coat (yes, I do it like that) and copped a squat. I even crushed the duck if you know what I mean...

More laughter and then:

"Girl, I got go"

WHAT!?!

I peeped the feet of the person in the next stall. Dammit...

Heels.

I am trapped in the end stall of the women's bathoom facility in the middle of a real bad number two. I was there for 45 minutes.


and now for a year-ending BLACKISM:



How will James Brown’s death affect Hip-Hop?

KRS-One:
James Brown is the Grandfather of Hip-Hop, of course recognizing Kool Herc as the father. You’re talking to a 25 year theologian, and Christ is my s**t. Jesus is my s**t, that’s my n***a! [Laughs] This guy, James Brown, dying on Christmas is very symbolic. Dying on Christmas, we know God is looking at us! We established right here and now. According to Christian tradition, James Brown dying on Jesus’ birthday means that Hip-Hop starts today. If you ask me, I think we should start Hip-Hop over on every Christmas. James Brown dying on Christmas, Lord have mercy! We have the opportunity, right now, to take Christmas [to share a federal holiday for Hip-Hop]. We can use federal law to our advantage. James Brown dying on Christmas Day means that for us, we don’t have to celebrate Christmas no more, that’s over! That “White Christmas” bulls**t is over! Jesus wasn’t born on Christmas, we know that’s a lie now. Christmas has nothing to do with the birth of the Christ, much less gift-giving, commercialism, and consumerism. Now, Hip-Hop has a chance to reestablish what Christmas really about. Christmas is about the birth of the Christ within yourself. You celebrate Christmas and you don’t say, “Jesus is born on this day,” – the ancient reason is Christ is born in you! God is born in you for another year. James Brown passing on Christmas could mean the birth of Soul in you. He is the Godfather of Soul – not Pop, not R&B, not Rock, not Blues, not Jazz – Soul music!

We should print the lyrics of “Say It Loud (I’m Black and I’m Proud)” and we should say it every Christmas. [KRS recites lyrics] He summed up the entire Black struggle. James Brown dying on Christ’s birthday shows not only who he was – Christ returned – but that Hip-Hop has a chance, politically, to take a day. Let’s celebrate James Brown! Hip-Hoppers celebrate the birth of their Soul, the birth of their Christ, the birth of their nature. Every Christmas, we gonna play James Brown records. All that White Jesus stuff is over! Matter of fact, I’m gonna call James Brown “James Brown the Christ.” When you look at Jesus, look at James Brown. Why wouldn’t you? The first painting of Jesus – the White man with long flowing hair is not what Jesus looked like – we know this. But we accept the lie out of habit, and it’s destroying us. The Vatican knows this! The Vatican says Jesus could be any color, any faith. Why not James Brown? Hip-Hoppers could say “James the Christ.” Further, Lord have mercy, in The Bible James was the brother of Christ. Hip-Hop could do this so sweetly, and take a federal holiday for itself, establishing what Christmas really means.

There is nobody who is more influential to Hip-Hop than James Brown. Kool Herc said that James Brown was the A-1 b-boy, the first MC, the first DJ – ‘cause he had two drummers. The drummer was what the turntable was today. When one finished playing, the other’d start, and sometimes they’d play together! Tell me this man is not the Christ! Tell me this man is not is Hip-Hop, straight up! James Brown is our artistic father. We all sample from him. This is a day where we exchange gifts. The gift exchanged with us from James was our culture. He freely gave his music to our culture. To me, that brings tears to my eyes! That’s some god s**t. That’s the lord and savior. On December 25th, James Brown gives the gift of himself to his children. What’s the gift we should be givin’ back? We should be givin’ back his request. “These record companies stole from me, get it back.” Get it back, children. There should be a James Brown Soul Museum, not a Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. James Brown.

Happy New Year, I guess

She made me cry...

I went to see this movie today all by myself.

Got my money right, bought a ticket and got a good seat. It was half crowded, but I was able to keep my coat on the seat next to me. I fielded 3 calls and set up an interview with a possible publicist before the flick came on.

An hour in, I cried.

That's right, Bru'man cried Martin.

And it had nothing to do with a bunch or frigedators with glass doors that I could not open.

It was Jennifer.


Jennifer, oh Jenny.

I ain't the one all up in award show hype, but I really hope she wins everything she gets nominated for.

She was that damn good.

Hey Julia...

Sprinkle Your Spice On My Meat

Peace and blessings, fam.

I'm still in Chicago for the moment, prepping what seems to be my swan song to the City Of Wind. I feel good and things aren't going as planned, but I still breathe and get a chance to fuss and rant about, so things are good enough.

It's not even cold here, and there will be no white xmas for those concerned and that's fine with me. As long as I have to be here I would rather it not snow for my sake. I like the regularity traffic brings in the closing of 2006

I was going to do one of those year end memes, but I think I'll wait til next week. Let's get the 'pagan tree celebration of commercialism' and of course all the holiday fakeness out of the way and get to the 'obligatory year-end binge drinking weekend' and let's get that here stat. As I was text messaged from someone special a day ago:

"Drinking is fun"

*crickets*

And knowing is half the battle. (Hey LadyLee! *waving*)

So some oldgirls birthdays came up and I believe by now y'all know that this means absolutely nothing to me (birthdays, that is) but talking to certain folks, you can't help but get caught up in the hoopla in some manner, so I composed this ditty over a cup of green tea a few moments ago as I play receptionist here at the hospital. Per a conversation I had, I did say that I'd title said ditty appropriately and like I also said: "y'all ain't old, y'all are just seasoned" and I mean that with all of my heart.

And that's the reason I chase after older women. And use Lawry's.

So without further adieu, here is my ode to older women and that funk y'all emanate that makes me want to help you out with that whole enhanced sex drive thingee that much more than women my age I give you:


Sprinkle Your Spice On My Meat

All the boys want you woman
because you are seasoned
Every man wants to learn how to handle your spice
without antacids or a smidgen of ginger
Some cats just want to marinate in your juices
so they can have a little flavor

I just want you to tenderize my meat.

I need to shave a little of your allspice off in my favorite dish
Want to feel the sensation of your sweet and salty
all on my tongue
Need you to help keep my foodstuffs fresh
cause' I'm a little aged myself
and I just can't sit

Still.

You ain't old, oldgirl
You just got more seasoning than the rest

Time has slowed down specifically for you
Age has blessed you with many a thing firm and tight
Days come to you and check in to see
when the best time it is to set the sun

You are a pro at handling the passage of all things
in a moment due to your secret herbs and spices
Every man wants a drop of that tangy juice
made better in the assemblage of moments

The young boys run faster to get caught up in your fragrance
I relish being in your radiance
I savor the sweet kisses of zest, zip and tang
When you cook the aroma is exhilarating and full of gusto

I get caught up in your piquancy
you make moments unbland and flavorful

Do me this favor

Turn back time for a moment
remember when it was fun to be young
and come to me

Twist that grinder and give me the fine powder
Shake that ass and sprinkle some of that spice on my meat
Treat me like the young boy that left me moments ago

knead me woman, mold and shape me
with your seasoning
Let me simmer in your sauce
and gain favor and flavor in your good graces

I want it to fall off the bone

All the boys want you woman
because you are seasoned
I want you because we blend together well on a plate
Enough to feed a family
cause your spice gets it all swole
giving you more bang for your buck and more than a mouthful
Shit, you know how I feel about a feast
So let me lick your plate clean to say the least

And that bowl too.

Tenderize me woman...

Help me beat my meat
Gone head' girl, sprinkle a little bit of your spice on it
You're that secret ingredient that'll last a lifetime
Not a whole lot, just a pinch or two
That'll will do with you
Just a little bit makes that spicy dish
that makes all the young boys wish

For firsts

To hell with seconds
That's why they chase after you
you are seasoned

All you got to do is sprinkle it in and stir the pot

You'll have me licking lips and fingertips
And using a cloth napkin.
And I ain't no spring chicken either

2006 Hassan Ntimbanjayo

Breathing Your Air, A Slice Of Pie and A Jalapeño

I hate you for doing this to me.

I can't breathe without you all up in my face
expelling oxygen you've used cause' mine
doesn't seem so fresh

Every time I close my eyes to rejuvenate and rest
you're right up under my eyelids
causing me to toss and turn
reaching to grasp
the escaping thought that is you

It's cool because my arm is draped around you
securing your skin against mine
in the middle of the night keeping me warm

And I get that repeated chance to press up against your booty

For breakfast I need you
to scramble my eggs

For lunch I'm always late
coming back from coming back...

For dinner it's always a thigh or a leg
maybe I'll get lucky and get a spicy combo meal
with a breast tonight

and a jalapeño

and some mashed potatoes

and some dirty rice.

You know I likes the dirty rice

For desert, I must always have your pie
At times I just want to dive right in face first
just plowing and wading through
with my tongue and lips swallowing you whole

It ain’t right to feast without having you dripping from my chin

It's like I'm addicted and I'm not sure
if I foresee a cure

What happens if I wane myself of you?

Will I be able to function properly?
How can I get dressed?
I mean, who will I get dressed for?

What will I eat?

How will I breathe?

Will I ever be able to enjoy desert the same way again?

Yeah, face first... I know, I know

Don't make me answer those questions
just shut up and let me hate you

Right after I get done with this meal

And take my nap

And breathe

Then I'll hate you for doing this to me
I'll just need one more slice of pie.

Can I eat some of your pie?

copyright 2006 Hassan Ntimbanjayo

Watch The Closing Doors

Seconds away from the conductor
closing the train door she walks in,
squeezing between the closing doors
clumsily carrying way too many bags.

Like everyone else on the morning ride
I lose my grip goose-necking to get
my view of this stark interruption.

There is a murmur because she ain't dressed right
and in the eyes of the regular riders
she got way too much stuff


She ain't never rode this train before, and we all know that.

She does everything wrong:

Stands in the door blocking folks
getting on and off the way they want

Not holding on to the handrails
while the train jerks

Putting her bags in plain view,
not willing to place them in the overhead...

Didn't have exact cash to cover the ticket
and she wanted to go
all the way to the end of the line


I'm still looking and I am impressed.


Flattered that she smiled at me
as she rode with the world
peering over her shoulder

Impressed that she came over to me
and finally said something after a few stops

No longer blocking the doorways
she finally sat down just making herself comfortable
and putting her carry-ons all over the seat
blocking me in like I'm riding to wherever her destination is

She didn't even ask.

All that conversation, all the banter
and getting to know yous.

The comfort of making speak
warm and fuzzy not even realizing
that the usual watching of familiar
objects gone by has been ignored
and totally forgotten because
this new habit of talk feels damn good.

And I usually disappear under my headphones

Wait, I missed my stop!

But then again I've never been this far.

I grab the attention of the conductor
as he makes his walk through
to purchase an extension on my ticket

I guess we are getting off at the same stop
I don't want to miss another word in this conversation.

All I saw was some awkward woman
disrupting everyone else's train ride
clumsily scattering luggage about
and I wanted to get to know who does such a thing...


And to think I didn't even ask her name, but we're riding to the end of the line

Picture that for your morning train ride.

2006 Hassan Ntimbanjayo

Kudos And Such

I started this out as a message to those that take time out of their busy day in cubicle land to stop by and read me. I wanted to thank you for giving me some of your precious time. I also want to thank those that get a chance to read me at home. I know that the spouse, the kids and general home duties come first. How I get squeezed in is totally amazing. Let me also take the time to remind you that I am completing what will soon be my first published literary piece and it will be available late spring. I'm also coming with a spoken word joint AND a hip hop joint also bowing in early to mid 2007. If time is precious, then I know that battling for your hard earned dollar in the form of CD or lit pages will be harder, so I work feverishly on things because I believe in quality over quantity, plus I want your money but I won't beat you for it, it'll be worth every penny.

Moving on from shameless self promotion...

The rest of the year will be interesting in how I do my thing. I might stay in Chicago, I might head south to be near better publishing opportunities (both music and literary) and be near someone special. I might take up on a few opportunities that are being offered to me right now. Who knows? One thing I do know is that I like the freedom I have right now and I want to keep things the way they are as far as that is concerned. I have considered the possibility that my music might be wack as hell and I might not sell a single book, so plan B (securing security thru employment and/or entrepreneurial ventures) is in effect. That means I'll be travelling and visiting places and people in the interim that will pull me away from my blog so entries will be spotty sometimes, but I will still read and attack blogs when I get the chance.

But before I get out of here and totally stink up a few airport and hotel bathrooms I wanted to say thank you to one blogger who is just the shit in my eyes (not the aforementioned kind from the airport or hotel bathrooms either).


Nikki Indigo, I thank you.


Sister, you looked out for a friend. You even sought your bruh to give guidance and some spiritual aspect to someone involved with deceiving your friend (before you knew the whole truth) because you thought they needed it. You held your tongue while holding your nose (from finding out about the deceit and smelling the bullshit) and waited until you had burden of proof before you spoke about things. When you did my sis, you were blasted and fingered as a jealous, rambling, meddling interfering misgiver of information by those you were trying to look out for. To add insult to injury, a lot of folk that had nothing to do with the situation you were putting your neck, name and credibility on the line for pointed fingers at you and wagged them in shame, ridicule and in false accusation.

For those in the know, you know what happened so I won't bring it up out of respect of the parties involved but my girl (and yes I really mean that in every definition of the term) Divine Lavender raised a good point. Why is it when a sister does anything and the situation turns ugly no one comes to help defend, protect or add to her credibility when they know that there is truth in what she speaks but if a woman outside our community (you know who/what I'm talking about) does the same thing (or the opposite in this case) she is protected? In this case, the woman behind the deceit is melanin deficient, and even though she deceived an entire gaggle of bloggers, she is being protected by some of the ones she actually decieved via the hood code of silence.

Not even put on blast. Ain't that a bitch?

See, I realize that in some instances some folk must save face. I also realize that some folk just want to put bad situations behind them and we'll do what we can to make things normal when scandal breaks because that shit will drive you insane. But, what we had recently was a woman outside of our community that deceived a lot of people in the black blogosphere and she is still being defended for her misdeeds and inaction by the infamous 'stop snitching' campaign when the sister that was only trying to help expose this fraud of a heifer to look out for the best interest of a black man mind you is seen as a villain by some for rustling up the feathers of a few folk comfortable reading blogs in cubicleville and/or at home. I really thought that the finger pointers would put ol' girl on blast but nope, this situation has been swept under the rug as another blogger in a virtual world that just did what apparently a lot of other bloggers do. Lie.

Amazing.

I'm not going to say that Nikki did anything right or wrong or had all of the accurate info needed to bring the deception to light, and for those that know and read in the past few weeks, shit got ugly due to her even opening her mouth. But remember that it wasn't Nikki that perpetrated lies over the internet and deceived a large amount of folk that bought into what turned out to be a bunch of sophomoric bullshit, finger pointing and lost trust.

See, a lot of us have come together thru this blog shit. Scuse' my French, but there has been and will be a lot of emotion that will be exchanged because technology has brought together a bunch of folks that have a lot in common and we communicate and info share, sometimes get together in the flesh and do the damn thang and it is good. If it weren't for this medium I wouldn't have met any of y'all and I would have felt lost and without a voice. Plus I got a chance to meet a handful of y'all in the flesh (about 20 now) including Nikki, Divine Lavender and countless others and I must say, it gets no realer and more genuine that those two sisters right there. I am blessed to know some of you personally and I pray to get to know more of you as time marches on. I am glad to have shared a time, meal, phone convo and IM chats with a lot of you.

So since it didn't happen over the last handful of weeks, I will do the honors. I'm a little tiffed that after I read Lav's piece on her take of the situation, that no one, including myself did it, but I wanted to and just didn't get to it and I'm still mad that I'm the first:

Nikki, thank you for even being concerned enough to want to look out for a friend. No matter what happens I know that you did the right thing because I would have too.

Thank you for making the phone calls, web detective'ing and saving cached pages to expose that shit to us so that we could see and make judgement for ourselves.

Thanks to you for taking the hits that you did from a lot of folk that either did not believe and/or still do not believe you now. We see that the fraudulent person in question has packed up and ran, so there is some truth to what you gave to us.

Thank you for being a black woman that stood her ground. In this day and age of defeated individuals, I don't know a lot of sisters that would have sacrificed her spot in the black blogosphere to do what you did. A lot of people would have talked it up on the phone, IMed shit to friends and showed a few folk via laptop, work computer or home PC, but you compiled that shit and gave it to us to make our own decision on what happened. And you gave it in detail, according to what you did and experienced.

Thank you for wanting to protect a black man.

Thank you for being a sister that even though you knew you would probably lose friends in the process, still went ahead and did the damn thing anyway. Those folks were never your friends anyway.

Like DL said, it's always 'Towanda' and not 'Trish' that gets put on blast. Thank you for having the courage to do that. If that were 'Towanda', it would still be internet fodder right now. That shit might have made the 10 o'clock news, but because a white chick did it we have forgotten already.

Thanks to you and Divine Lavender for pointing out that once again, the house negroes are protecting massa, and the field negroes are back to picking cotton. Even some of those directly affected in the situation have clammed up and got out the dustpan. Like I said about 'Towanda'...

Thank you for sharing so much of yourself and entertaining us with your work. I know for certain that you are who you say you are and you ain't fronting. You are talented and beautiful (you too Lav) and you deserve kudos for all that you have done.

And thank you Divine Lavender for speaking on it, but you usually do and you cover a lot of other ground as well. I appreciate that like you'll never know.

I wish more sisters were as brave as you.

HIP HOP ACTIVISTS TAKE A STAND AGAINST POLICE TERRORISM (PRESS RELEASE)

Tuesday, December 12, 2006 - 8:29 PM

HIP HOP ACTIVISTS TAKE A STAND AGAINST POLICE TERRORISM!!!

*PLEASE REPOST*


FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASEHIP HOP ACTIVISTS TAKE A STAND AGAINST POLICE BRUTALITY

LIVE FROM A HOOD NEAR YOU: THE 'ORGANIZE DA HOOD TOUR' JUST ANNOUNCED

Los Angeles, California -- (December 11, 2006) - Announced today, the 'Organize Da Hood Tour', featuring performances and lectures by a number of hip hop's socially conscious heavy hitters, will be kicking off in Atlanta, GA early 2007.

Sponsored by the FTP Movement (www.ftpmovement.tk), Guerilla Nation, O.U.T.R.A.G.E. and Contraband PR, the 'Organize Da Hood Tour' is set to stop in 7 cities and several locations yet to be announced, early next year.

Hosted by the hip hop group A-Alikes (RBG Family), Kalonji Jama Changa (FTP Movement), Rough (Abandoned Nation), Wise Intelligent (Poor Righteous Teachers) and other special guests, the tour will tackle issues such as Police Brutality/Terrorism, Poverty/Homelessness, Political Prisoners, Street Codes and more.

A mix of political activism with a heavy streetz flavor, tour organizers are calling it a form of "edu"tainment necessary in times like these, when one need only turn on the news to find examples of the growing disparity between "the haves and the have nots". The attempt will be to appeal to the hood, (where much of this disparity is experienced), local universities and everywhere in between, in an effort to open up the dialogue to a greater social problem.

In addition to a number of hip hop artists, numerous grassroots and community organizations are also expected to be in attendance. Due to the fact that each stop of the tour will feature daily lectures and panel discussions, as well as nightly hip hop performances, it is expected that the tour will attract a wide array of attendees, both loyal to the hip hop community and to the hip hop political movement itself.

For more information please contact:

contraband_pr@yahoo.com, info@mobbb.org or info@ftpmovement.tk
http://www.ftpmovement.tk/http://www.mobbb.org/

Monday - Back on the Block

Wassup fam!

It's Monday, and I got a few things planned. Nothing that special though. I'm getting over to the hospital this morning to put in a few volunteer hours, that's always a fun thing... Making a few calls to Salt Lake City and taking a meeting this afternoon with a prospective (fill in the blank).

I plan on treating myself to a good lunch (something light) and then I'm headed over to a good seafood spot this evening to get some crab legs and watch the Bears do a little damage in St Louis. A little Monday Night Football never hurt anyone, ya know? Especially over beer and crab legs.

Cold and flu season is among us, and I crafted this lil' ditty back in March for a friend. I wanted to make a get well card, and since I have some semblance of talent I wanted to bypass that cheesy Hallmark ish. This is what I came up with:

If you need me to run to the corner sto...
I'll do that and much, much mo.
Drive you 'round from to and fro...
Escort you to where you go.

Serve you things and not take no...
Tuck you in, fluff your pillo.
If soup is hot, then I will blo...
Crush your crackers in your bo.

Cook and clean and wash and fo...
Servitude, that's what I'm fo.
At least for today...

I'm your errand boy.
2006 Hassan Ntimbanjayo

Keep that snot and phlegm moving y'all. And use hand sanitizer please. I dedicate this one to yall... Congested bastids!

Let's Make An Agreement, Okay?

Let it go,


Take the weekend, get in the water (whatever that may be) and cleanse it offa' the skin.

Get some smell good and accentuate who you is.

Get ur' hair did, nails done or somethingorthe other.

Sleep in late, then turn over and do it some more.

Have that orgasm that's been chasing ya'. Don't avoid that.

Pray, meditate, yell out loud and come to agreement that it needs to be let go.

And do it.

Before Monday.


Let's start this thing anew, shall we? If I do it, will you? I love you and I don't want the separation between us, okay?

Understood.

Get to that weekend, aiight? See you Monday.


Hotep.

Dig In

I gots my shovel today!

soft earth wrestles between my toes
when I take my boots off and roam in it
the smells of the tall grass, crab weed and flowerbeds
intoxicate me to the point where I don't want to break ground
so I take a picture and store it in my mental rolodex

"what you're looking at is the before joint, now here, here those there are the construction photos... see, see that yeah, look at the pile, man!
aiight, now here are the after photos... That's a real beaut right there, huh? Yup, my pride and joy"

I snap to attention in the realization
that dirt was meant to be broken
piles were to be made in the process
and water can be added to make the finest of mud castles
so I dig in

With each small mound I get rich morsels of phytonutrients
capable of feeding the largest of family with just one seed
the moist coolness of being inside this large hole
helps me realize that it's framework for foundation

and not a ditch

the pile blocks out the sun's harmful rays
I notice that I have more than one earthpile
and the smell from the nearby citrus trees keep me refreshed
I see the roots of nearby tall trees
I use the tip of my shovel to dig around
I take off my work gloves and touch them in admiration
I get a chance to feel history in the place in which it was planted

After a while I realize that my head is feet beneath the surface
and I ain't even taxed from my task
I also notice that what I have dug is square
and has depth, sense and purpose
there was no blueprint in the beginning
the finest of masons would pull out compass and square
scope and level
and confirm by seeing that all is right and even
You could build right here

and then it rains

Light and airy the drizzle turns formless piles of dirt
unearthed into concrete
small rock into brick.
The hole with no form becomes more than just shapeless
I recover finds from ancestors in places where no one else would be
outside of its sarcophagus handwritten and addressed to me
or maybe its cuneiform is just for my eyes to see
translation from previous digs overlooked it purposefully
and now these treasures have been left for me


I admire the clumps of clay on the tip of my shovel
revel in the fact that I am not fatigued
excited that I wake up with the intent to get back to the worksite
started looking in books to help cultivate the need to learn drafting
sketching out schematics
working on subtle nuances in the making of blueprints


trowel
water
dirt
time
imagination
passion


And the occasional bringing of the lemonade at 1 in the afternoon


gives me the motivation to erect a foundation
so I dig with the purpose to continue receiving inspiration
putting all of who I am into this excavation
giving meaning to all of that perspiration

I roll up my sleeves on this day, prepared to work
I lace up my boots prepared to stand on uneven ground
ready to dig
So I dig deeper. Intently

I gots my shovel everyday.
What will you have me dig today?

2006 Hassan Ntimbanjayo

This Instance

What have I just done in this instance?


In the time it takes to blink to clear my eyes
I make a connection
it reaches deep inside of me
lets me know there are kindred things
and ties that bind
with time and opportunity


What have I learned?


Only that there are others
that desire similar things as I
and have the same urges
and have the exact same questions
that kept me awake nights on end
I can sleep now because
there might be answers from afar


What will I do to continue this path?


Everything I can
Curiosity has me asking the right questions
patiently receiving the answers I seek
I want this to reveal itself in a long season


What becomes of everything else?


It becomes normal in the grand scheme of things
the universe unfolds letting me know my place
space and time folds
bringing me closer to awkward moments
it's what I cherish


Why can't I get to sleep now?


Because I just hung up the phone
still hearing the echoes
it plays in my head on repeat
a new song that I don't know the words to
but the melody makes my feet tap
It lulls me to sleep eventually
and I dream with one eye open
needing to see if it was real
because time passes quickly


And...

I don't want to miss the next call



2006 Hassan Ntimbanjayo

Naked.

Stripped down to my lowest common denominator

At times I sport 2 shirts in the sun on a hot summer day
Most times I rock 3 sweaters under my bubble goose
during winter's mildest
Often times I carry 5 outfits in the water
even if I'm scuba diving
They say bundle up

I say wear it in layers

cause that's what I was taught
So I follow my own advice and put it on
and on
and on
and on
I don't take it off, even if I'm showering
This way we get all the clothes clean.

I've never had the urge to take it all off
See, momma told me that you had to have on clean underwear
or you'll be caught out there
And rumor of your uncleanliness can cause despair
Even if that was not you up in there

So cover it up, son
Put something on it, I mean have you no shame?
Or better yet, I am ashamed and have projected it on you

In the name of the father, the son and the holy ghost
Run and hide boy!
Put some layers on that ass before I kick it!

No one wants to see you

Put all that had developed into who is you behind that curtain
Never let the world see what you really want
they'll do what they can to just take it away
leaving you alone and exposed

alone and exposed
alone
exposed

A long expose`
On how not to function as a little black boy in Sam's land
because he probably stole
he couldn't have earned that
Shame they can't earn, it's not in their nature

Don't share nothing
just tuck it in
hold it there, you hear me?
Never share your feelings, I mean
learn from history
Never share your story because
all the world will laugh at you
and you ain't never been funny

Put your face behind those hands because
you do not have attraction to the opposite or similar
you repel cause you ain't like them
be seen and not heard, matter of fact hide because

You just exist.

You need not explain to the rest of the world what your plan is
because no one else can speak the language
that was uniquely taught to you
And that's even seen as illiterate
so don't say nothing

just
remain
silent



until it explodes



Now after this even your deepest wish
will be laid at the feet of the people of the globe
and they will stare and gaze in your unfamiliar-ness
because they don't know you
You will want them to listen
but words will fall on deaf ears repeatedly
because that's a dialect that they want to fear
because you are the unknown

until you strip
until you strip
until you strip
until you strip

this shit down to its bare minimum

make it naked

help them see with the visual that is you
bare it all so that they understand the language
that is your human body and its unspoken text

expose yourself to the universe

give them the vibe blackman
like only you can give it
and receive it back

get that shit back

get that shit back
just as stripped down as you gave it
and then they will hear you


and understand

2006 Hassan Ntimbanjayo