amen’n ‘cause i’m!tired!of feeling like me
(always lining-up somewhere waiting to be had) 

this swelling debilitationing
of eluding delusive illusionationings
is sucking everything up
and religiously crucifying us all
as zombies hypnotically dancing
clamorously amening! our AMEN-ING!
sway’n in algorithmic automationings
of our traditional drumming strummings
and saturday night dos-si-dor-ings
blithe broadway vocal-lationings
and toxic arena inhalationings
so be acting like we feeling sump’n real
in these numbing collapsing veins
of our emptying synthetic arms
as congressively we’re all overriding
what’s left of any notion of alarm

most all of us all are just squanderers
pretentiously pondering wanderers
hallucinating in fancy abandoning malls
penthouse stalls and wet low rent halls
surburban palls and trailer park drawls
all alone in coffling crowds of begging eyes
vicarious junkies we running back’n’forth
in pluming hair-do’s tattoos tobacco chews
and brand new 5^th avenued alligator shoes
spandexing with everything we muse
‘cause aint none of our trump cards working
aint working no mo’ like they ‘sposed
we just hustling’n’hustling anyway we can
here trying to hiding behind just being seen
snorting like this “!aint nothing but’a thang!
if you keep on sucking up it won’t be long
‘fo all’us all  be here feeling just the same!
. . . coming’round forever go’n on around

Copyright (c) 2019 Asili Ya Nadhiri

There is only only one humanity, therefore,  Art must always be speaking to this humanity as an indivisible whole

Alwaysing

there is always a reliable record; do not yield to the establishing serpentining protocols of properly sufficient documentationing to the point of not daring to PROCLAIM!!! Someone may be listening who is able to substantially advance your lead.

the same behaviorial patterns are always manifesting, universally, amongst animals (human and not) as they are experiencing certain existential realities.

Asili Ya Nadhiri
Tonal Drawings Written in Poetic Form

*touching is
a longing alouding
of whispering soliloquies
softlying enfleshing
with no trespassing
a sensuous promising
gracefully consuming
nearly ever swallowing
a hungering caressing
with no fingerprinting
wantingly entangling on

* entangling is a most beautifully elegant cosmological concept
Copyright © 2010 Asili Ya Nadhiri

Preface 

         “the tiniest petal on the tiniest flower
is simultaneously as simple and as
complex as you are wishing it to be”

         —Words of My Father—

“Art is predicated on the belief that creation is ONE wherein all existential possibilities are intricately entangling.  Time, a concept by means of which we are perceiving ourselves to be exerting a significant modicum of control over the creation by means of our segregating conception, generally . . . inspite of the unanimous voices of science bellowing to the contrary.

Our timeless interacting (-ing-ed-ing) enables us to be clearly understanding why it is not necessary for each of us to directly and exactly experience each and every human  possibility in order to have an intricate realization of it; especially, when we conceive of creation as one “field” wherein all phenomena are constantly, endlessly, and instantaneously sharing their information (entangling).

Every event (or momenting) is an incessantly unfolding/enfolding recurring eventing infinitely entangling throughout creation. There are, however, always spontaneous eventings impacting at levels below all our most readily accessible thresholds of perception: Interacting moments wherein all of us are participating in the evolution of our behavioral patterns are always consciously and unconsciously nowing—since our African beginning and on and on throughout our most instructive migrations to the remainder of the earth. From whence . . . No! How, therefore, are our behavioral patterns always keeping going on and on    . . . why is pretending so innating-ning?

Socially and psychologically, we evolve by means of imitating one another. To varying degrees we normally continue doing this more and more on into a progressively lesser and lesser extent as our existential progressing is regressively diminishing. Why then, as we are constantly and persistently and, even, desperately propagating this behavior on and on and . . . are we always choosing as we’re always choosing?

the prey is always
preying too
swallowing one’s tail
is never through
and not the answer
for what to do

           “Everything is everything”: always drummming the rhythming of what everything else is drummming. By means of ourselves, we’re always revealing the human dynamics generating impoverishinged-ing; and the necessarily underscoring wombing out of which our civilizations maybe more propitiously reborn . . . and our personal salvatory propensities honed

Copyright (c) 2000 Asili Ya Nadhiri

surrendering

we all addicting “Me!Me!-ing” fondlers
our backs they mooningly tote-ing
fabricating tomes who cleverly disguising
treasonous designs being passing on and on
in bilious plottings of perverse-a-nating heads
of too-too-ing little self-devouring leeches
splashing here in their sucking scared
drowning in being scared of being scared
“but just you give us won’t you please
justa few minutes more of our sleeping
just a few more minutes will you please”
ingurgitating the noise of our snoring
our mouths they rabidly spinning us fulling
on swaddling illusions of something born here
that was never much more than stillborn
“a few minutes more won’t you please
 justa few minutes more of this sleeping”
circlings in the hypnotic circling of circlings
our words they always just echoes
exacerbationings tatooing stolen juju trollings
on the hollowing caverns of our lives
this aimlessly squandering wandering’s
censoring the tendons commanding our legs
and rendering our bending knees attending
“no no no . . . aint no cause for worry
we just tired that’s all
a few more winks us up and ready to go
so please won’t you just . . . please . . .”

Copyright © 2017 Asili Ya Nadhiri

if when is then
and then is when
and now is on and on
what then is now
what now is when
and when is ever then
and where in when and in what then
do stories we tell they all begin
and do they ever ever end
and what it is they all intend 

now then in here wave-ing here when 

in here i’m bound then   for most never found
‘mongst a public litter that’s more renown
and this numbing i’m feeling in here when
keeps being spreading on out all over
dissipating your children aborting them now
raping us all on deeper mo’ deeper mo’ deeper
and you keeping on marching on just like you told
never minding ‘bout this something
you done’n’nicknamed it me

crowded in crowds you aloned   aloning all alone
syncopated hallucinating in your own plastic arms
advertising patronizing emboldened perverse-nations
leeched you leaking on into a same one another
you wanting other but you scared   you so scared!
of the feeling little left that you feeling it’s leaving
and you never ever ever make’it so you be seeing
what you wanting i’m always waiting in here waiting

but you keep on sucking on them-ed used sugar titties
cunningly consumed in the daunting consumption
of your own hypnotic and callous-ive consuming
you hallowing the hustlers desecrating your time
swelling your heads with masturbating rhymes
auctionating in palladiums of a popular clime
and you erasing me on mo’ furthering on away
smothering in spells of a boundless dismay
then sewing up into things of animated clay
as nows and thens and ever whens
keep keeping right on entangling

Copyright © 2007 Asili Ya Nadhiri

intussusception-ninged-ing
**(rivers us known-ning bent pulling pulled
 bending ‘round the ‘lan’ic ocean
for making mo’ us all should
oughta done    be seen seen-ing) 

aboding dark mattering imploding on
through in the middle of this passing on
feeling ‘round in them borned forbidden things
spawning on in the holdings
of this swallowing dark womb

stole! pour’d on this journey sowd
by some them who us!  by who’us sold
herding dark bodies herded there herding here then
there tied one to the scared
trembling here in the other

in’us self !throwd bound !
there squeezed down in here!tight!
undulating notions surrounding and pounding!
rubbing titty nippled ‘rections
warming hardening there harder
‘gainst the hot protesting breathings
of lil’l round titties bare
scrotumed logs pinioned thronged
there wedged there bumping
in wet creviced rows ‘gainst
bare naked buttocks’ backs
who ‘cause they scared!all they scared
they all scared yearning home
in the thick sweating rushing
of hypnotic body odors

us fed feeding here feeding
on this what here in there swelling
lip twisted ‘round and ‘round
knotting ‘round in’us head
gnawing down on inside another on inside
this some other some ‘nother body self-ing
here swooning rhythmic enfoldings
of them dark fleshing walls

aboding dark mattering imploding on
through in the middle of this passing on
feeling ‘round in them borned forbidden things
spawning on in the holdings
of this swallowing dark womb

**think of gravitational lensing
Copyright © 2004 Asili Ya Nadhiri

carnivalling

in rings they sing
at the walls of this thing
they sing and they sing
Lord knows they sing
and here there comes another ring
in streets down there they left there bare
black topped and striped to give them flare
and hardly ever swept who knows who cares
hair weavened heads swinging from homemade vines
they getting high on the sound
of them endless rhymes and syncopating mimes
dancing bare footed sweating in the winter time
and ‘round and ‘round and ‘round and ‘round
in the shadow of things they never win
before it comes back it done n gone by again
amen amen amen
in rings they sing
at the walls of this thing
they sing and they sing
Lord knows they sing
and here there comes another ring
in church how they sweat
and while they praying and yet
the preacher hustling some blues
‘fore dancing feet in they shoes
there’s heaven under one shell
but then you never can tell
just where the sweet smell of hell
they turning ‘round and ‘round and ‘round and then
they jumping outa they seat
there sitting down again
amen amen amen
in rings they sing
at the walls of this thing
they sing and they sing
Lord knows they sing
and here there comes another ring
inside they head
where all they know is they said
and what they make believe
divide’em here from the dead
dark shadows they greased and on they stroll
left in there wandering into growing on old
going along those roads like it been foretold
they swirling they dabbled with Africa traces
made up borrowed from they kin in jungled places
laughing they laughing at they small dark faces
spinning ‘round and ‘round and ‘round and when
they running away there over yonder
they standing right here again
amen amen amen
in rings they sing
at the walls of this thing
they sing and they sing
Lord knows they sing
and here there comes another ring
when help it come it on the run
it always something it never done
somebody proclaim they holy name
for fame and pockets full of bubbled gum
driving big white boats through desert lands
pouring sparkling sands in begging dark hands
and basketballs in tiny food cans
going ‘round and ‘round and ‘round they been
they keep coming on back so’s to go again
amen amen amen
in rings they sing
at the walls of this thing
they sing and they sing
Lord knows they sing
and here there comes another ring
tomorrow it comes and it never nears
eyes they dried by their falling tears
brown bottles scattered and emptied full
of checker games and the silver bull
in vacant lots under old shade trees
rolling dice with no eyes under bended knees
frozen there waiting for the end of something
that’s always never come
looking ‘round and ‘round and ‘round they grin
always there at where they been
amen amen amen
in rings they sing
at the walls of this thing
they sing and they sing
Lord knows they sing
and here there comes another ring

Copyright © 1995 Asili Ya Nadhiri

mesmerizing in fantasizing mesmerizing 

afflictionating in addicting afflictionationings
trying to paying no never never mindings
kicking ourselves here dead in the ass
like it’s just another hole in the grounding
arrogating in surrogating prevaricationings
that there’s never no blood in bleeding
‘cause every body they got to be knowing
there just aint no such’a thing
we orgasming in the salavating spray
of our lecherous asining gloating
spandexing flabby norms
for copy-cat-ing worn illusionationings
so posterizing fantasizings
dissolving on in teasing porn forms

it is what it is so what the hell is it is

promenading virgin whores
and diacritically ambivalenting hordes
who circling ‘round ‘n’round ‘n’round
all arounding right here in our heads
making more’n’more themms like us
every where swallowing disclaiming
nervously portensively proclaiming

“♪this aint nothing but justa thang
it aint no shot but justa bang
close your eyes keep-on run’n alone
and holding on to the potion
of just holding on
!!!AND THEN POOF!!!
it gon all be gone♪”

Copyright © 2017 Asili Ya Nadhiri