the blues keep feeding in the rhythm- BAGS . . . (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

the blues keep feeding in the rhythm
(what is this upon my heart
it make me burn inside this dark)

bags

these veined dark hands they shrivelling
in the hungry plundering
of her old crooked fingers
her shopping cart loaded it full
of rescued things
tied up in the arms
of her many little strings
silver aged trolley whose shine done gone
mumbling words grumbling ‘round
in thick lipped jaws wit snuff dripping down
‘neath the smile smothering there
in the still abandoning yearning
of her tird brown eyes
her losing what her finding
in the belly of this night
‘cause the wheels wobbling ‘round
us bumping here ‘gainst the ground
her squat’n there by herself
nobody somewhere
big wide bottom hips fart’n bare
for all those flies they hurrying there
looking on they going pretending no care
swallowing the syrupy spell
of this vulgar smell
slobbering mouths their hands dripping full
holding our breath
while her moving her bowels

Copyright © 1995, 2020 Asili Ya Nadhiri

 

as we blindly stumble on (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

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

 

please . . . get out of your way (a tonal drawing writing in poetic form)

please . . . get out of your way

I’m feeling you in there crying
trying to wipe those stubborn tears
by so desperately rewriting
what you’re wanting to be forgetting
that’s still so vividly remaining
despite all your pleading

inside this trembling atonal plaint-ting
where you’re so hopelessly
denying and trying to be hiding
so keeping marching on
by wrapping up in the ruse of rewriting
what you’re trying to be forgetting
—the blaming that’s solely yours
instead of nourishing
this swelling radiance
always so warmly roaring and
gushing out through this loneliness
you’re keeping on clinging onto
there in your enchanting eyes
and that saddening smile

and so desperately you’re wanting
to be dancing and daring again
feeling and being felt
way away from all this
in an ever entangling enfolding
fullingly enrapturing never
pretending to be caressing anymore

. . . incessantly you’re feeling
how rapidly you’re fading on
too scared to ever be wanting
for anything more

Copyright © 2020 Asili Ya Nadhiri

snort’n the mirage of social . . . (a tonal drawing writing in poetic form)

snort’n the mirage of social exclusinationing
(the delusive illusion of club-bings)

 

slow moving syncopationing

bump’n close all up all over

almost inside one another

pump’n sweating so hard

like a funky hoochy coup-ing

militarily mesmerizing in the cadence of

!doom!doom!doom!doom!

!doom!doom!doom!doom!

!doom!doom!doom!doom!

glossy eyes they wantonly glancing

in looping swooning abandoning trancing

dancing fantasizingly romancing

militarily mesmerizing in the cadence of

!doom!doom!doom!doom!

!doom!doom!doom!doom!

!doom!doom!doom!doom!

jes !ME!ME!ME! is all that’s heard

in this crowding harmonical rage

“!look at me!look at me!look at me!”

 “!now i’m the one on stage!”

militarily mesmerizing in the cadence of

!doom!doom!doom!doom!

!doom!doom!doom!doom!

!doom!doom!doom!doom!

kaleidoscopic shadowings in shadowings

of erotic autotomic addictioneers

constipating on the bastardizing norms

we’re all guzzling in serpentining corrals

militarily mesmerizing in the cadence of

!doom!doom!doom!doom!

!doom!doom!doom!doom!

!doom!doom!doom!doom!

 

 

Copyright © 2018 Asili Ya Nadhiri

Novel Summary

 

 

IMPOVERISHINGED-ING:
the sunging of the preying mantis

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

—Paraphrased Words of My Father—

 

        The term “impoverishinged-ing” (exhibiting the suffix ‘ing-ed-ing’) is a literary construct specific to the literary genre called “Tonal Drawings Written in Poetic Form.” It is intended to capture the author’s perception that “existence is (holographically) one” with the common notions of “past-present-future” being a means (ouroboros=serpentining) by which humanity is continuously and obsessively being driven by a most delusional and scared minority in order to be supposing a significant semblance of control over itself and, of course, Creation; all for the sake of insuring the perpetuity of this scared minority. More existentially stated: “INGEDINGED-ING” is suggesting we are always being acted upon, are acting upon, and are always being in the horizon of becoming.

Our “ing-ed-ing existence enables us to be understanding why it is not necessary for each of us to be experiencing (directly and exactly) the same factors of human existence in order to always be having an intricate realization of them. We are all essential factors of a creation that is one ‘”field”, wherein, all phenomena are constantly, endlessly, and instantaneously sharing their information (entangling).

Every event (momenting) is incessantly unfolding/enfolding and infinitely entangling throughout creation. There are, however, always spontaneous eventings impacting at levels well below all our most readily accessible thresholds of human perception; interacting moments wherein all of us are participating in the evolution of our behavioral patterns as they are always consciously and unconsciously nowing—since our African beginning 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-ing.

Imitating and emulating one another is an essential means by which we evolve socially; vicarious living is a most prevalent other obsession rabidly advertised (and desperately propagated and legally mandated) by societies as their respective members become more and more afraid of taking ownership of what we are seeing in our respective mirrors. Instead, we are taking the ever addicting addiction of choosing those few others projected by those few self-appointing and anointing others who are projecting themselves as the ordained existential models for this most essential camouflaging. Of course, those bowing down to the commands of this arrogating few are never realizing that those through whom they are trying to vicariously live are, in fact, doing the exact same thing, too—and just as desperately as everyone else.

To varying degrees we normally continue doing this more and more and more . . . on into a progressively lesser and lesser extent as our biological existential progressing is regressively diminishing. What then, as we are constantly and persistently, and, even, desperately trying to be holding onto and obsessively propagating this behavior on and on and . . . Why 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 everythinging”: always drummming in the rhythming of what everything else is drummming. By means of ourselves, we’re always  revealing the human dynamics generating inpoverishinged-ing; and the necessarily underscoring wombing out of which our civilizations maybe more propitiously reborn . . . and our personal salvatory propensities honed. This novel is an effort to lay bare this aggressively developing social proclivity.

Abidenton, is a small southern coastal tobacco town. By means of its persistent cultural habits, the manner in which the members of our human society are always passively, actively, and contemplatingly impoverishing themselves. This is a society, wherein, a significantly much smaller African American society (avidly preferring to be referred to a Negroes) is ensconcing within a significantly larger Caucasian society. And, within these two societies is a much much much smaller Muslim Society. The Abidenton society, as a whole, is ensconcing mind and soul in geographical region boasting the largest Klu Klux Klan membership in the Country. By means of this minute portion of the human society, this novel is exploring the dynamics of IMPOVERISHINGED-ING.

©2019 Asili Ya Nadhiri

THE MOST GRACIOUS (a tonal drawing writing in poetic form)

THE MOST GRACIOUS

all we’re here doing
is just running for the sake
of being seen how we running
like all we’re suppose’n to be doing
is spinning ‘round ‘n’round ‘n’round
cloning our stumbling and bungling
so we’re all here just vicariously aping
pretending like it’s us up there on stage
posing under the ever dimming halos
on our manufactured heroes renown
make-believing just like it’s our hands
on themmm who up there molding
the zombies we’re seeing in our mirrors

and we’re so many of us
be never ever pondering
beyond the pale of fantasy wanderings
just obediently strolling on in the haze
of our orchestrated saunterings
publicly invisiblizing addicting swoons
so brazenly celebrating our plundering
of one another and all of ourselves
here in a bubble aloning all alone

why are we so rabidly obsessing
with so blatantly chastizingly ignoring
all the blaring illustrative warnings
instead of beholdenly pondering
the endless magnanimous entangling
most graciously here inviting us all
to be abundantly fulfillingly enfolding
in OMNIPOTENT OMNIPRESENT ARMS

Copyright (c) 2019 Asili Ya Nadhiri

prestidigitationing (a tonal drawing writing in poetic form)

*prestidigitationing

lips they hawking deceitful wiles
stalk’n here in most all our plastic grins
serpentining subverse-nationings
so many of us snake’n in the grass
‘round ‘n round so swallowing our ass
shuffling hands they dealing real slow
‘cause most the eyes they closing so tight
we just aint caring aint caring no mo’
‘less we ‘bout to be missing a reality show

aint raising no children ‘cept for show’n
them suckling on cold synthetic titties
drowning in the arms of gadgets
in the laps of parental mannequins
as they keep on jump’n in front
of our loud snoring trains
they’re already zombie’n automatons
like them geriatric ones ejaculating
on elected stools in full chamber halls

we’re methodically ambushing ourselves
in the floodings of addicting venues
tailgating rendevous and country blues
slow rainbow hump’n souls in tennis shoes
holy coliseums raffling heavenly pews
stock markets scat’n like hee-hawing mules
they jerk’n the strings of our emptying lives
with the same old same old braying
of our high school pep rallying cries

puppies we just keep’n on run’n behind
our perpetually self-anointing magicians
who always drawing cards from decks
that aint never be having no markings
us so long here show’n what we know’n
we get’n mo’n’mo use to abusing ourselves
while all the while just here still being used

*Audio available at https://www.dropbox.com/s/gfmpbbelvh3g4i1/prestidigitationing.m4a?dl=0

Copyright (c) 2019 Asili Ya Nadhiri

 

prestidigitationing (a tonal drawing writing in poetic form)

 

*prestidigitationing (a tonal drawing written in poetic form) 

lips they hawking deceitful wiles
stalk’n here in most all our plastic grins
serpentining subverse-nationings
so many of us snake’n in the grass
‘round ‘n round so swallowing our ass
shuffling hands they dealing real slow
‘cause most the eyes they closing so tight
we just aint caring aint caring no mo’
‘less we ‘bout to be missing a reality show

aint raising no children ‘cept for show’n
them suckling on cold synthetic titties
drowning in the arms of gadgets
in the laps of parental mannequins
as they keep on jump’n in front
of our loud snoring trains
they’re already zombie’n automatons
like them geriatric ones ejaculating
on elected stools in full chamber halls

we’re methodically ambushing ourselves
in the floodings of addicting venues
tailgating rendevous and country blues
slow rainbow hump’n souls in tennis shoes
holy coliseums raffling heavenly pews
stock markets scat’n like hee-hawing mules
they jerk’n the strings of our emptying lives
with the same old same old braying
of our high school pep rallying cries

puppies we just keep’n on run’n behind
our perpetually self-anointing magicians
who always drawing cards from decks
that aint never be having no markings
us so long here show’n what we know’n
we get’n mo’n’mo use to abusing ourselves
while all the while just here still being used

*Audio available at https://www.dropbox.com/s/gfmpbbelvh3g4i1/prestidigitationing.m4a?dl=0

Copyright ã 2019 Asili Ya Nadhiri