The perseverance of a rebel I drop heavier levels
It’s unseen or heard, a king with words
Can’t knock the hustle, but I’ve seen street dreams deferred
Dark spots in my mind where the scene occurred
Some say I’m too deep, I’m in too deep to sleep
Through me, Muhammed will forever speak
–Common, “The 6th Sense”
(Like Water for Chocolate, 2000)
God is Greater, God is Greater
There is no God but God and God is greater
And to HIm is all Praise
The world is a prison for the believer and paradise for the disbeliever
Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him)
The Sufis say -
Relaxing in a prison is one of the day dreams of the ego
- rule of systems communication which also apply in debate. Devised by one of the founders of the internet, Jon Postel.
Be conservative about what you send and liberal about what you receive. Write with discipline and listen with tolerance.
A good rule for bloggers, or when debating with strangers online.
This is a moment that will live in History as long as History books are written -
Gordon Brown.
Dear History,
For too long have I pondered your meaning, memorized dates of battles, years of servitude, decades of injustice, named eras after movements, mourned the extinction of species, cursed founding fathers, worn vintage suits and cloaked myself with references of your hold on me.
I have walked through museums wondering how it is that greatness had lived and died all before my time. Parts of me feared becoming great because it seemed to include a price of death and a postmortem glory that my memory could never resurrect. I’ve stared at paintings dying to catch glimpses of the painter, closed my eyes to listen to songs that drunken ghosts dance to, and all the while I’ve fought to FREE the present to BECOME.
In 1995, I stood with poets in the middle of the Brooklyn Bridge, barking metaphors at the new moon of the summer solstice wedging words into it’s craters, sewing seeds through nightly wind.
In 1996, I forced the ocean back with words, fathered planets, climbed pyramids, and began to decipher the sirens song to conjure the dream-filled Children of the Night.
In 1997, I stood with prisoners in our nations capitol bending bars with the power of thought as wordsmiths served sentences and Hip Hop diddy-dandified itself: stealing golden calves from the Old Testament to smuggle into the lavish crib of Pontius Pilate for it’s birthday party.
In 1998, I swallowed fear and sun-danced on film reels, projecting a me that had not been into a me that ever shall be.
And HERE I stand, ten years the difference and witness to changing hands.
Dear History,
I beat you. I stand a generator of generations bearing witness to a world that we are holding accountable for past actions. Me and my friends, we’re changing our diets, re-inventing marriage, check-mating capitalism, re-defining ethics, replacing cruelty with compassion, and have sworn not to re-elect the sins of the father.
We are casting our votes for so much more than a lesser of evils, but for change, and greater insight, for wisdom out of the mouths of babes, for races that bleed into ONE.
Dear History,
You are behind us and we are no longer looking back. We are standing on the threshold of new times, new days, new worlds, and charging forward without battle cry or trumpet, while cynicism, apathy, and cowardice take their place beside you, behind us.
Dear History,
We no longer believe in you. We have invested our our thoughts and dreams into the present moment and opportunity to shift our reality into one that does not resemble your dog-eared books.
We stand on the shoulders of those who have dared to dream and on the necks of those who have wasted their time and ours proclaiming a past past its prime.
Dear History,
Blitz! It’s my turn now. You can have your mounds of flesh, leather boots, cannons and sabers, nooses and guillotines, warships and fighter planes, trails of tears and blood, genocides, dungeons and dragons, ghost stories and fairy tales……….
Come on guys! Help me out! ~ Saul
Never despise a fellow Muslim, for even the most inferior believer is great in the eyes of God
Abu Bakr al-Sadiq (may Allah be pleased with him)
A Banker is a fellow who lends you his umbrella when the sun is shining, but wants it back the minute it starts raining.
- Mark Twain
The greatest of action is love. For it is love that manifested the Hidden. “Love me because Allah loves me” the beloved Prophet said.
Love can complete the deficiency of our actions but our actions cannot complete the deficiency in our love.
- Words from an Ashiq (may Allah sanctify his secret)
Lady Evelyn was the first British-born convert to travel to Makkah for the Hajj in 1933. More here – Mayfair to Makkah.
A poem she wrote in 1889 -
… The vague longings that filled my soul,
Took the form of a prayer I upward sped,
To Him, the One, The Essence of All….
And the weird cadence of the Mueddin’s cry
Bid the faithful prepare for the day that was nigh….
Come on tell me ’bout your problems
[Murs]
The problem with me is that I think too much
relying on this pen and this ink too much
and I do too much – I’m always on tour
accumulating points, till I forgot about the score
And the problem with you is you don’t think it all
your brains deadweight so you sink and you fall
you drink and you smoke till your motivation’s gone
and you know this is true so you hate this song…
[Slug]
The problem with me is co-dependency
so afraid of the day that you won’t remember me
knee deep in anxiousness, needy like an infant
escapism, beats, rhymes, alcohol & women
the problem with you – you let yourself stop believing
and now you’re afraid of your own thoughts and feelings
forgot how to share what I love most about you…
lost your voice – now no choice but to doubt you
[Murs]
Now the problem with the world? …the lack of respect
for our earth, for our children – for the future we neglect
for the morals, for the values, for the god that we select
millions die everyday without a cause to affect
The problem with the revolution? …it’s never gonna happen
through these marches, through this music,
through these cats rappin’
through these communists, these socialists or any other faction
armchair activist – all talk no action…
[Slug]
The problem with the people that I stay surrounded with?
…they all wanna replace faith with a psychologist
bring the evolution, whether thinkin it’s pollution
when they’re swallowing the balance, and they’re drinking the solutions
The problem with the people that I won’t stand next to?
…they don’t hear the songs that we sing for the rescue
the keys of life – the basslines of sadness
so people that don’t have – reach out and grab it
[Murs]
The problem with hiphop? … sh** nothing at all
it’s an artform that ranges and it changes it evolves
it’s not always for the better, but be patient with it ya’ll
for our time will come and the wicked will fall
The problem with this song, is it’s not long enough to say
how messed up it is that we living this way
nothing is alright …but everything is okay
so we plan for tomorrow but we live for today
[Slug]
The problem with sex is self respect – calibration
the orgasm services your validation…
and the problem with love, is that it lives in a book now
the problem with drugs is that they’re too f****** good now
the problem with logic is there’s too many loopholes
and the problem with truth is that it’s usually brutal
the problem is I can’t trust most of what I see
so f*** it! …all the problems of life must be me!
Mama said she gets it all the way
…Biggest lie she ever told
Papa said hed bring us brighter days
…Biggest lie he ever told
When they said this world was ours
Felt like we got body and soul
they think they had a cure for pain
…Biggest lie they ever told
Eid Mubarak to all, may you and your familes have a blessed celebration, have a good ‘un!!
My fave tune for today – The Burdah, by Mesut Kurtis or as I like to call it – the Roger Troutman version. Enjoy.
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 | Peter Jukes on Postel’s Law |
 | soteria on Majnunism 007 |
 | Heath on Majnunism 007 |
 | hfm on Majnunism 007 |
| hfm on Through Me.. |
| hfm on Postel’s Law |
| hfm on We Need Aliens |
