*dissolving here inside this soliloquy

there something else in here
much older than the rest
aloned
it barely whispered
through the plaque filled gaps
of tobacco yellowed teeth
and nothing is seldom said
there no clear thoughts now
left here in this head
just shadows
in syncopating motions
!i hollar
and it quickly rolled up
in tiny crumbed morsels
for making believe
lulling me on
wrapping voodoo charms
all around up inside
the muscles of my arms
making me tird
and my children
and they children they too
these hands
my hands!
they paddy-paddy cake patting
on the tom-tom drum
stuck here in the mud
on the potter’s wheel
spinning ‘round and ‘round
trying to get theyself
some-some
dark eyes they shining
they shining dulled
frozen wide in the midst
of thick africaned lips mumbled on
in us fingers
it in here caking
the clay that it baking
and more slowly it pouring on
in this moulding again

*Copyright © 2001Asili Ya Nadhiri

“i’ve lost the way
of what there’s left
of me that i brung
in them ship how i come
in this room it dark
caint see where my face
caint tell who this is
caint find where this place
how far is i from
this here where i come
how long i must go
‘fore will i never gon know”

*what who is this that i being

who is this i say’n is me
the one outside through whom i see’n
or somebody else i wish’n i am
what’s this i feeling i cannot see
this hole it here inside of me
is i the fault for what i being
or this scared wrapp’n here
around my knees
and what can i supposing to do
if nobody see’n nobody in here
not even me
who dat gon come and rub me warm
when there aint no yesterday
so how come it i always have’n to cry
why come it never nobody else ‘sides me
who’s the one that supposed to die

*Copyright © 1993, 2016Asili Ya Nadhiri

*as we blindly stumble on

I’m feeling a cold wind blowing
and taking what little there’s left
for us to wrap here around us

I’m seeing wet glossy eyes trying to cry
and long empty arms reaching out for themselves
and words lost here in the echos

I’m smelling the oily odor of unwashed lives
doused in perfumes costumes and mobile tombs
filed in cold and lonely rooms

I’m lamenting the many times in temperate climes
when those things warm and easily won
are tossed away and left undone

*Copyright © 1988Asili Ya Nadhiri

as we blindly stumble on

I’m feeling a cold wind blowing
and taking what little there’s left
for us to wrap here around us

I’m seeing wet glossy eyes trying to cry
and long empty arms reaching out for themselves
and words lost here in the echos

I’m smelling the oily odor of unwashed lives
doused in perfumes costumes and mobile tombs
filed in cold and lonely rooms

I’m lamenting the many times in temperate climes
when those things warm and easily won
are tossed away and left undone

Copyright © 1988 Asili Ya Nadhiri

landscaping serpentining inscape-ing
(fingers over my eyes for so i’m hiding)

spandexing magic is sculpting our minds
for seeing what’s not   there to be found
and walking just like we’re told
equivocate’n germinate’n pervers-e-nate’n
in all this merchandising we’re buying

catwalking here ‘mongst abetting faces
full of bulging eyes who auctionating
the daring giles we’re strapping on
for actualizing mesmerizings
in our plastic arms of fantasizing

in a darkening we aint meant to be
covering our eyes for so we can see
somebody on stage looking just like me
tickling with words so we all in tune
sun-ing here in the night of the moon

and this is all going on extending
as our cultural stalls keep on portending
with the tastelessness of our pretending
we’re in control of a never ending saga
of surrender’n just like we here contending

Copyright (c) 2018 Asili Ya Nadhiri

can accommodating my name
can accommodating my name
can accommodating my name
(for a very close and special friend as she’s . . .)

never gone try to leave from here again
or try to be nobody else but me
this is my home where i belong
and i’ve learned to lean on all the things
they meant for me right here

those with whom i went as friends
along this road to drunken ends
they pushed me off and left me here
to run after what they said never minded
Lord knows
i was trying so hard
to be something else
i thought they wanted then

for years i lay used
crying in the pale hairy arms
of those looking not like me
and i was gnawd and carelessly chewd
by dark and dried ancestral ‘canes
in suits with flowers and other things
and i learned how then
to always show this other face
talking in those other words

my legs they full
of many little broken veins
there is no further that i can go
all i have is what i could’ve been
and the pain here waiting for tomorrow
i’m getting ready to die
‘cause there’s nothing else left
that i can do

Copyright © 1993 Asili Ya Nadhiri

“i’ve lost the way
of what there’s left
of me that i brung
in them ship how i come
in this room it dark
caint see where my face
caint tell who this is
caint find where this place
how far is i from
this here where i come
how long i must go
‘fore will i never gon know”

what who is this that i being

who is this i say’n is me
the one outside through whom i see’n
or somebody else i wish’n i am
what’s this i feeling i cannot see
this hole it here inside of me
is i the fault for what i being
or this scared wrapp’n here
around my knees
and what can i supposing to do
if nobody see’n nobody in here
not even me
who dat gon come and rub me warm
when there aint no yesterday
so how come it i always have’n to cry
why come it never nobody else ‘sides me
who’s the one that supposed to die

Copyright © 1993, 2016 Asili Ya Nadhiri

Iyesha
(for my daughter)

pretty little pretty girl
with the sun you greet the world
dark and lovely roasted pearl
pretty little pretty girl
ponytails and little curls
tiny dress with plenty furls
pretty little pretty girl
be like mama make your twirl
dress your dolly cat you hurl
pretty little pretty girl
in the school with friends you whirl
making laughter in a swirl
pretty little pretty girl
here at bedtime do you surl
scared you gonna leave this world
pretty little pretty girl
pretty little pretty girl
pretty little pretty girl
pretty little pretty girl
pretty little pretty girl

Copyright (c) 1993 Asili Ya Nadhiri

cocoons

if i spread my wings and fly
whom will i touch
and who will touch me
what will i do
and what will be done to me

Copyright ©1993 Asili Ya Nadhiri

in this knowning river drowning on 

we keeping on themming more themms
triballing on out of our primal womb
pompously and flauntingly propagating
an ancient disdaining of other themms
covertly plot’n and coveting like themm
cloning humanivoring thrones
in the rusing wombs of other themms
so arrogantly and so blatantly
ignoring prophetic warnings ‘gainst
obsessing with breeding more themms

frantic panderers try’n to hide
we’re all enfolding in our rainbow colorings
pimp’n venders beguiling as heroic themms
blowing slow low mo’ synthesizing sounds
into bags fulling-up on pretensifying mimes
resounding in the mould of emptying arms

desperating pawns we prostrating in place
ensconcing on inside a rusing obscuring
as this grow’n invasive pervers-e-nationing
accelerating our swallowing invisiblizing
is enthralling us deeper on down inside
this what here wondering who’s me
because all we all is just themms
themm-ing perpetrating mo’ themms
just like all them other themms
and all our druthering themms

Copyright © 2015 Asili Ya Nadhiri