NO hurt intended mamma

Divine mother, my mama, carrier of me
Nurturer of me, My Supreme Queen, My Heart.
Please understand my actions from a path led astray.
Haven’t being to this day in all that you say?
Though everybody struggles in finding their way.
I, often open up my eyes, and try to juggle which price to pay.
My decisions, while influenced by a negative taint
Stripped me of control in my use of restraint.
My pain is most felt in knowing I hurt you.
The causing of disappointment, worry and stress too.
My way or the high way has given me strife
And brought about sorrows that only takes from your life.
All that I have experienced affects you as well,
But I never meant for you to know any part of this hell
I can only vision the repercussion effect and imagine
what you felt.
Being too helpless to protect, I apologize deeply for the
Drama that was imposed.
How I tested your spoken words,
I now ask for your forgiviness.
For my primary concern is that you realize
I take this as a lesson to learn.


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My mother, my friend, my supporter, my provider, my pain, her pain, my struggle, her struggle, my grief, her grief, my trial, her tribulations.

When the world forget about me, her love comforts me, family’s abandoned me, she refused to forsake me, my foe hated me but her love was enough to sustain me.

In times of hunger she nurtured me, when I became discouraged to travel up the steep hill of life and through the dark tunnel of pain, she encouraged me to keep going on and never waver in the difficulty and distance that lay ahead.

Her unconditional love and our intertwined grief, is the essence of love without conditions.


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Bury alive in a concrete jungle

Bury alive deep into the pitch black hidden compartment of justice, Encased into the cavity of a 6 by 8 feet confined forestless jungle in plain view of lady liberty, where the fresh stench wrenching drenching smell of rotten mouldering forgotten dying soul hover in the air without a care, time is of no importance, it passes by without any notification, as this land of the free suffocate you all the time depriving You the sunshine of freedom, humanity forsaken you and left you with malice searching for solace in the care of insanity who occupied the station of power and in the seat of authority and rule from the sadistic play book
Before sleep over take you at night you become vividly aware of the fragility of life as you wonder if life worth living or dying better than sleeping
In this concrete jungle,you can’t stumble or crumble, and you learnt fast to either be humble or get ready to rumble and try never to tumble when inmate mr gamble come to claim his real estate in the man-made jungle…..


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**Creative insanity**

A life without freedom is the law of the insidious, a cosmetic illusion of the 13 amendment.

This place called prison, angers lure, rage stored in a cage that adore aggression.

misery shine so bright, it is like the moon light at midnight, darkness overpower morality, what creative insanity, sensory and deprivation is the normality.

solitude escape it seeker, shackle with every movement, while hovering over head a sadistic drunking pig with a loaded gun.

This place is a gravestone for the condemned enemies of society,a home of grieves for the lonesome.

they rob men of their soul, a testing lob for men of virtue.who walk the green mile in circle.

At the starting point young and agile, 3/4 of the journey decrepit, and at the end lies an open unmark grave….


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The neglected believers

Bismillahir Rahmanir Raheem:

Salamu Alaykum….

One of the greatest weaknesses now thriving within the ranks of Islam is: “The Intellectual Divison Of Spiritual Realities…” what I mean is, some how we have falling into the warped state of; “Individual Worth!” we see only what we believe as being the absolute truth…
Believing Muslims in prison have been neglect, rejected, and denied, based around this very fact…People say that Muslim in prison have nothing to offer, they lack the ability to correctly provide or support a wife and family…this is interesting because; it does not represent the original intellectual development of Islamic principles…
Islam has always been a spiritual system set in motion to fight against oppressive movements…it has always been a strong Shifat towards the healing of oppressed minds…Our Master Muhammad (S) always turned his face towards the poor, the weak, the slave, and the prisoner….today amongst the so called believing muslims this is not the case…
Instead people are drowning incarcerated believers in “Bias Madness…”..neglecting the very fruit that makes their
faith system soo beautiful and sweet..that is; being patient enough to love and serve all of Allahs creation…no matter where they may be…Alhamdulilah…many of our Prophets, Messengers, and leaders have experienced the weight of incarceration, yet they were patient and Allah greatly favored them…
We have to stop pretending to be believers, and truly place ourselves on the battle field off submission…we have to be open to love and embrace our own…no matter what state they may find themselves…we have to be the bringers of glad tidings to those who love Allah and his Messengers…Allah rewards those who see life through a spiritual eye…not a material one….love and act solely for the love of Allah (Swt)…..

Remembering Malcolm X.

I love Malcolm X for many reasons, more than I have time to write. But I found two quotes from the book Soul on Ice that well articulate my feelings.
“It was not the Black Muslim movement itself that was so irresistibly appealing to believers. It was the awakening into self-consciousness of twenty million Negroes that was so compelling. Malcolm X articulated their aspirations better than any other man of our time. When he spoke under the banner of Elijah Muhammad he was irresistible. When he spoke under his own banner he was still irresistible. If he had become a Quaker, a Catholic, or a Seventh-Day Adventist, and if he had continued to give voice to the mute ambitions in the black man’s soul, his message would still have been triumphant: because what was great was not Malcolm X but the truth he uttered.”
Quoting Ossie Davis:
“If you knew him you would know why we must honor him: Malcolm was our manhood, our living, black manhood! This was his meaning to his people. And, in honoring him, we honor the best in ourselves…
However much we may have differed with him — or with each other about him and his value as a man, let his going from us serve only to bring us together, now. Consigning these mortal remains to earth, the common mother of all, secure in the knowledge that what we place in the ground is no more now a man — but a seed — which, after the winter of our discontent will come forth again to meet us. And we will know him then for what he was and is — a Prince — our own black shining Prince! — Who didn’t hesitate to die, because he loved us so.”