Absurdity-ing:  Trying to Debate With an Addict

Those members of our society (and their followers) who have managed to garner vast public attention in their desperately endless effort to satisfy their !ME!ME!ME! addiction are simply addicts in the manner of chronic habitual drug users. They know they are never going it achieve that ultimate high and that the chances of them destroying (overdosing) themselves in their never-ending pursuit are practically absolute. They, however, continue to increase their diabolical machinationing in order to increase their dosage in the hopeless pursuit of that phantom reality (the ultimate high of being the supreme master). These extraordinarily insecure citizens are trying to camouflage the overwhelming feeling that they are really experiencing themselves as being unimaginably invisible and nakedly weak. Their addiction and the religious vicariousness of their followers is all that is keeping them continuously teetering—desperately hanging on by their ever slipping fingertips—to the narrowing and ever shifting ledge of . . .“maybe . . . maybe . . . tomorrow. . .”

These citizens are certainly news items; but only in the manner of common junkies (drug addicts). The News Media does not need to report, analyze, and debate each and every fix (diabolical /perverse remonstration/demonstration) of these addicts. All of their activities and verbal spillings are always the same ad infinitum in terms of an ultimate objective.  And theirs is, invariably, the same body, in slightly different clothing. IT IS ESSENTIAL WE REALIZE THAT ADDICTS (AND THEIR FOLLOWERS) DO NOT CARE ABOUT FACTS AND LOGIC. AT BEST THESE ARE ONLY GAMES (CHESS MATCHES) DURING WHICH THEY CAN FLAUNT THEIR SERPENTINING SKILLS—AND WE MUST MAKE SURE WE ARE AWARE OF THE NATURE OF PAWNS. OUR NEWS MEDIA NEED ONLY REPORT EVENTS FACTUALLY ENOUGH TO CONVEY A REASONABLY COGENT PICTURE OF THE RESPECTIVE EVENT; AND AVOID SUPPLYING THE ADDICTS AND THEIR VICARIOUSING PAWNS WITH A FIX (DRUG DOSE) BY ENGAGING IN CONTROVERSIAL REPORTING THAT ONLY ENGENDERS ENDLESS DEBATES THAT KEEP MAKING THESE ADDICTS EVER RECURRING HEADLINES IN ALMOST ALL THE NEWS MEDIA. PLEASE REALIZE: NEWS REPORTING, PRESENTLY, IS ONLY EXACERBATING THESE ADDICTS’ ABSOLUTE OBSESSION WITH EXPERIENCING THE ULTIMATE HIGH: “THE ROYAL CORONATIONING OF THE OMNIPOTENT “ME!ME!ME!ME!ME!”

Copyright © 2013 Asili Ya Nadhiri

The Serpentining Serpent

“The Ouroboros (also spelled Ouroboros) is a name given the symbol of a serpent (snake) swallowing its tail.  Some maintain “this composition symbolizes self-reflexivity or cyclicality, especially in the sense of something constantly re-creating itself, the eternal return, and other things, such as the phoenix which operate in cycles that begin anew as soon as they end.  It can also represent the idea of primordial unity related to something existing in or persisting from the beginning with such force or qualities it cannot be extinguished . . . (Wikipedia).” This symbol also reflects the intimate relationship between Luciferian (Satanic) worshipping and Freemasonry.

The serpent is a very very very old symbol used to represent the rational mind.  I am contending, in the face of all contrary assertions, that this symbol most explicitly means:  If the rational mind is left alone and on its own—absent of an unyielding morality, it will inevitably swallow itself.  We (human beings) are both rational and irrational—the percentage to which we are inclined toward either is not subject to the pronouncement of an equation.  Our blinding predilection with “very smart people” who are adept at establishing rules by which to successfully name and maneuver chest pieces (our manmade symbols) seems most problematic.  Reasoning allows all things, and the masking of anything.  Life is not a game; there is no algorithm by means of which one keeps a numerical score.  Wisdom is most essential in regards public and personal leadership. I am thinking:  A wise man is always smart;  a smart man may never be wise.

The soil of our nation is sponsoring the growth of weeds; we have been cultivating this growth since it colonizing inception. The “glorious” rendering of the history of this growth on which the members (no matter their existential circumstance) have been (and still are) addicting is the central propagator of this growth.  In short we are the weeds that need to be weeded. But we, its citizens, by means of our rapidly advancing our serpentining cultivationing regimen, are accelerating the propagation of our weeds at warp speed.  We should acknowledge that we are addicting to exhausting our energies serpentining (rationalizing) this circumstance by defining a weed as any plant that is growing where it is not wanted; and are contenting ourselves with trying to hide behind such debilitating machinationing.

The weak and ignorant are always waiting and begging for a master; someone through whom they can camouflage their hatred of whom they have been coached to perceive themselves to be: They must always have their heads underneath somebody’s boot. Their master, on the other hand, is just like them except his/her hiding place is behind the arrogant mask they ostentatiously don.  Yes, their master simply adorns the audacity to publicly pretend to play this role in an effort to hide the overwhelming fear that he/she is desperately trying to overcome vicariously just like the audience before whom they are performing.  The master is always teetering on the edge of doom; and must always be so because he/she is, simultaneously, both performer and audience.  The audience is there because they are coached to do so; and can leave anytime they choose. The performer is there because he/she has no choice; and cannot leave until the show is over, or the audience leaves.

Copyright © 2013 Asili Ya Nadhiri

atlantic mooring

glistening sheets of scrolling waters
drumming on in resounding billows
wet humming oracles unfolding there
nourishing darkening trepidationings
reverently enthralling wondering tongues
in loud roaring echoes leaving their trace
undauntingly entangling on
here across your face

by the stark emancipationing of this moon
staring on through cavern crevices homemade
silently kneading assuaging this fear inside
wrap’n’round the musclings of our strides
so these bronze shackled imprinting soles
aint froth aloning for the leave of wet sands
drying scared in hubrisating emulationings
who here begging unbeknowingly awaiting
the mutual beholding of kindred hands
emanating of our native humane

obedient you feeding this tumultuous
flooding here in our wondering souls
with snarling notion-nings crashing there
attacking foreboding wallings of this hold
nourishing the epic will of all them daring . . .
when so quietlying on back out on into then
and now on your way forth on up here again
embracing us all in this womb with its sway
pronouncing on and on of this cosmic way

Copyright © 1983, 2014 Asili Ya Nadhiri

oracular

only the smell is raising up
from the deep tribal markings
on the dark bodies laid laying 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 roarrr
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 © 1995 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

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

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

so what are we wantonly supposing 

with in this what we’re calling space
never see’n all it’s boundless face
why are we plotting our own disgrace
to leave somehow a visible trace
i’m scared of all that’s unknown
so i’m brewing a make-believe
‘cause this is how i do conceive
this whom i’m portraying it is
so what’s the big secret of being
‘cept jellyrolling my seeming
 and fricasse-ing my scheming
with in this what we’re calling space
never see’n all it’s boundless face
why are we plotting our own disgrace
to leave somehow a visible trace
to where am i following what
does it really matter with all i’ve got
if every where’s just some where else
why am i even caring to dare
so what’s the secret to being
‘cept jellyrolling my seeming
 and fricasse-ing my scheming
with in this what we’re calling space
never see’n all it’s boundless face
why are we plotting our own disgrace
to leave somehow a visible trace
if this is up when then it’s down
is this a smile or grinning frown
aim i spinning or winding down
what does it mean to say i’m free
inside this so-called mystery
so what’s the secret to being
‘cept jellyrolling my seeming
 and fricasse-ing my scheming
‘cept jellyrolling my seeming
 and fricasse-ing my scheming
‘cept jellyrolling my seeming
 and fricasse-ing my scheming

Copyright © 2016 Asili Ya Nadhiri

you just waste’n yo’ damn time
‘cause i aint gon be this who
you always showing here for me
‘cause this sho aint the one i’m want’n
running around acting like it’s me

why come you doing me like this 

how come you there laughing at me
wearing all these different kinda faces
huddling here in the pockets of my eyes
that i keep try’n on one after another
‘cause none of ‘em aint making
aint none of ‘em making me their size
this why i’m always running on
to the next one i’m git’n memorized

and i’m !hate’n! the one
you always having here for me
—this ugly damn face that’s mine
just there wait’n here in behind
that splashing loud addicting glittering
of all them sponsored synthetic druthers
so you spiteful old cheap piece of glass
you can kiss my goddamn ass!

‘cause this one you be showing here
sho as hell aint what i wanna see
i’m-going-out-some-where-right-now!
‘n find a new ‘nother other for this sham
a one who at least for today
i gon be make’n like it them
who i am

Copyright © 2016 Asili Ya Nadhiri

!MeMeMeMeMeMe!Me! . . .

HELL NO! can’t afford seeing you
and i’m doing all i can so
keeping you from seeing me
and doing all them other things
so making how it’s ‘sposed to be
can’t gon be counting no body else
but this one we calling !me!

aint no longer pretending
i’m caring about some how and why
i’m screaming!me!
echoing there in yo’ head
here in your head all the time
deeper on deeper mo’ deeper on down
so nothing here but ME’s be’n heard

this endless perverse-nationing renown
accumulate’n all in up’n’under our ruse
we needing a new brand new kinda muse
dat aint ah’humming and ah’sanging
and ah’drumming no blues

so what’s left for me to be saying
‘cept keep yo’ ass here way on over there
on outa my goddamn way!
‘less’n you gon be here ah’chanting
real real loud about !me!

Copyright © 2016 Asili Ya Nadhiri