oracular

only the smell is raising up
from the deep tribal markings
on the dark bodies laid lying there
in they kin folk bowels
shackled down to the bottom
on this cold damp floor
in the belly of Jonah’s slave whales
!and we was told they was coming!
was told long long before
eating things for living they cannot name
scared about the night it filling they head
they listening for the drumming off yonder
low going lower it fading away fast
they left naked there humming
humming here alone
in the loud throbbing silence
resounding there
in the undulating rhythm of the ocean’s roar
a mama crying there gnawing on she baby throat
so he aint never! gone die here no more
they have to feed them ones
they burdened there my Lord to carry on
and sown here in this dirt
by many other hands
like it done been told
it was long meant to be

Copyright © 1995Asili Ya Nadhiri

(aloning aloned we’re wandering
wandered on in this just wandering
on the edge of our beach
by the stones on its shores
knowing knowd un-be-knownst the unknowing
where now that it’s was this there) 

help! is a most aloning call to ever be trying to be making
 (requiem in purple for Vi and Maxie) 

“to what do we wish for you my friend to be blinded
in an innocent most kind of your never even minding
what do we wish  to be lost for you
so politely that it be  be never ever founded . . .”
that no end knowd us then for us to be bounded

“laying here in these bed sores   mindfully sequestering
trapped here inside this traitorous body despised
way beyond the pale of any surmising
. . . damn so-called friends going on otherwising
i’m holding on to your voice in our memories of you
all alone by my self in a veiled demising
like our Dr. Maxie in there   he’s en-festering too
‘tween the neutering walls of municipal-ling halls
swaddling there swaddled just swaddling on
then going home to the family of a stranger’s bed
where he died there all alone by him self like me
in the plastic charms of another armless wife
—his own children they left    there standing outside”

“all themm-d infantile whims we wedded
when we knowd they were all just greeding
breeding rows of thick vixened brows
that we cuddled too close to our bosoms
servants we were to the toying behest
of their plundering bedeckoned calls
now we both of us here all together
in the wake of this confess
and the resignating plea
that’s all that’s left of our selves

 . . . there just won’t enough time
just won’t enough time . . . for us left”

Copyright © 2010 Asili Ya Nadhiri

drowning on in our themmming themmms
(entrancing on in ouroboros circumstancing)  

serpentining is nowing here then
and always here nowing when
marching out of our primordial womb
themmming mo’ themmms
just like all the other themmms
coveting themmm other themmms
forcefully enslaving and cowarding
other themmms just like themmm
by audaciously ignoring oracular warnings
of dangerous proverbial sins pouring forth
and propagating more themmms
perpetuationing on just like themmm

we’re all themmms like any other themmm
addictionationing and desperationing clones
celebrating our well honed fatal-cidal whims
molding and infectuously enthralling us all
with confusing abusing algorithming refrains
mesmerizing in slow low mo’ mo’ hump’n OMs
wallowing in the perverse-nationing cloning
of all us all by all us all
here hypnotic automatoning
in the coffling vicarious dispensationings
of synthesized bastardizing drummm tones
and all we’re doing is just running on around
and on arounding in this all arounding
‘cause we’re keeping on keeping on suckling
on the slithering tail of our sidewinding tales

Copyright © 2015 Asili Ya Nadhiri

                               recording 

we do not create; we simply discover new ways of reporting what our beings are experiencing in our interacting with all of creation

. . . watering . . .

        once poison is in a water, it is not just a case of some poison being in the water:  THE WATER IS POISON!  Putting hands over the eyes does not make it all disappear . . .

club-bing
(a rub-a-dub-bing there bound
in ‘round’n’round here on around)

rendezvous-ing perpetrating
chasing spamming notions of on’n’on
with flashing wigs and painted-on moles
and wing tipped shoes of plated gold
breast implantings so size is beholding
splashing out of long dark lean limousines
in fogging swoons marching all in line
hands paddling there on waiting behinds
acting like they be being so goddamn fine!

chattering all the old used chic-chattings
of themm themmms they pretending to be
splashing this primming right on time
in a hoochy coochy clime of rhyme
so giving the perverse’nating bleating
of them who drumming some

so busy fawning on in this spell
we aint never be ever realizing
what is all this is that it is
being pouring here shrouding over on’us
‘cause all we doing is hustling fantasizing
waiting’n’wanting for a next so to do
like it all aint nothing but jesta game
of sneakers butts and high heel thangs
and late-night key club-bing bangs
!abracadabra and whoop’de’do!
spandexing us all so moulding on into
some same old new same somebody who

Copyright © 2019 Asili Ya Nadhiri

drowning on in our themmming themmms
(uroborous dancing then nowing when) 

then nowing on in when
marching out of our primordial womb
themmming mo’ themmms
just like all the other themmms
coveting themmm themmms
who more forcefully cowarding
other themmms just like themmm
by militarily ignoring oracular warnings
of dangerous proverbial sins pouring forth
and propagating more themmms
who’re being just like themmm

and we’re still just running here scared
addictionationing and desperationing clones
celebrating our well honed fatal-cidal whims
moulding and infectuously enthralling us all
with confusing abusing algorithming refrains
mesmerizing in slow low mo’ mo’ hump’n OMs
wallowing in the coffling perverse-nationing
of hypnotic synthesizing drummm tones
and we keeping on going on around
and coming right on right on around
‘cause we’re going on going on
suckling on the slithering tail of our tales

Copyright © 2015 Asili Ya Nadhiri

nuance-ing shadows
(is it is what it is)

how’s glancing ever seeing
when you’re never quite is-ing
almost hearing something being said
running ‘round’n’round like you’re living
‘cause breathing’s implying you aint dead
and always pretending you being themmm
you might not be want’n to be
virtuallings there inside your head
cussing at each other instead

Copyright (c) 2019 Asili Ya Nadhiri

Just Loving Our Fools

O, my fellow citizens, most we’re all just loving OUR SELF-VAUNTING FOOLS! No matter their race, ethnicity, allegiance, religion, or assorted alliances, we’re cajoling, extolling, molding, hypnotically, and fanatically emboldening them all; in near total disregard of the price we’re paying—RIGHT NOW!!! They’re the stone hardening icing on this souring pie, especially when performing in their pointed hats and sitting up there holding gavels on their marble stools

purple-ing
( . . . just wanting to be loved)

we’re here in crowds of ourselves
chickens packing tight and smelling too
march’n blindly just like we’re told to do
carelessly bump’n all into one another
a drop of blood falls! from some body else
!and we run’n all over one another!
so making sure of being in the pecking too
swearing what we doing “it aint personal”
it’s just doing what you ‘spose’n to do
here nibbling on any body else
so long as it aint you 

we just syncopating lying and why-ing
try’n to shuffle ourselves into somebody else
so camouflage-ing how we all too scared
to even daring to be talking ‘bout nothing
run’n by just sit’n here say’n we running
staying like we is ‘cause we is as we is
believing the only thing here for’us left
is mixing the same old same old
with a whole heap of nothing else 

we getting higher and higher so pretending
we done learn how not be feeling alone
by flooding our empty veins of loneliness
with liquid arms of hallucinating porns
and plastic tombs of pixellating charms
serpentining the norms of social forms
so magically!POOF!we somebody new
feeling no pain ‘cause we numb
calling stagger’n swagger’n like we dumb
on and on we going aloning all alone
and celebrating our becoming no one

Copyright © 2019 Asili Ya Nadhiri