The Thoughts Of Just Another Brother: Sweet Home...

Monday, 16 April 2012

Sweet Home...

Most of the events that have taken place are gonna haunt me

There's no one to comfort me now as I sleep beneath the sheets

There's no one to comfort a nigger as I eat in my seat

I get claustrophobic within here

I get claustrophobic within here sometimes it’s hard to breathe

It’s hard to breathe meaning my minds never at ease

I threw everything away the day my mind wanted release

I was free once upon a time

My freedom came to a end the day I was greeted by the authorities

The truth is I was only in it for the world’s riches

The world’s riches appeared to me in the form of jewellery

I have to admit my trigger finger slipped a couple times

In my head as I let loose I heard echoes of the bullets rhyme

My finger slipped on someone’s son, daughter and little niece

I remember like it was yesterday

I told them get down and pray on both knees

As crazy as it was sounds I liked the way they screamed

The last words I heard were

"No Not the little girl please"

I've been incarcerated branded the devils incarnate

All I do every day is blame it on my mental instabilities

Blamed everything on my instabilities as I’m a product of society

Society has made me how I am

Funny thing is everyone wants to pin the blame on me

I was a boy with a dream once

After a while I died on the inside and so did my dream

My dream of becoming something literally became deceased

I was the only person at the funeral

The only person at the funeral no one was there for my eulogy

No one cared as I shared a tear and laid flowers on my dream

Laid flowers on my dream and said

"Rest In Peace"

No one cares about a dream when you’re locked up

I'm just another brother

Just another brother within the system

Once upon a time I had a dream I was an anomaly

Society gave me no choice

It took me a long while but I've finally regained my voice

In my confined solitude it’s taken a long time

but I can truly say I’m sorry

For the family that I have ruined

Those who are left you have my sincerest apologies...

No comments:

Post a Comment

About Alph

Alph Arley

Performance Poet and Spoken Word Artist/ R.A.P Workshop Facilitator. It's deeper than R.A.P!

Twitter: @Alph_Arley
Instagram:@Alph_Arley1

Youtube: Alph Arley
Facebook: Alph Arley
Soundcloud: Alph Arley

Paragraph about me:

Hi my name is Alph Arley and I know that your certainly pleased to meat me, because I know that I am certainly pleased to you. I am a 90’s US Hip-Hop, 90’s U.K Garage and U.K Grime head, with a sneaker addiction which I had battled for 20 years.

I am a performance poet, as well as a spoken word artist who was born and raised in Stockwell, South London. I started writing poetry back in 2011, and started performing my poetry in 2012, whilst I was studying at university. When I am not playing Pokémon on my Nintendo DS, listening to Rap, watching Rap battles, watching cartoons, watching footie, watching anime or reading manga, I am thinking and writing. In my spare time I also facilitate and deliver poetry, spoken word and rap workshops which are called ‘The R.A.P Programme’ to young people. This is in order to help them to gain a greater, awareness as well as understanding about the importance their individual voices, as well as to help them to gain awareness, as well as help them to articulate their thoughts and emotions.

How I get started with poetry?

How it did I get started with poetry? I would say my poetic journey subconsciously started in 94. This was when I was about 3 years old. I grew up in a two bedroom flat, in a four flat building in Stockwell with Tupac, Biggie Smalls, Bone Thugs and Harmony, Puff Daddy, Mase, Dre Dre, LL Cool J, DJ Rob Base, Run DMC, Eve, Missy Elliot, Busta Rhymes, Wycleff Jean, Lauren Hill, Fugees, Eryka Badu CD’s being played on my Mum’s black Kenwood Hi-Fi, with two standing speakers.

I remember by the age of about 9 I had my own portable stereo in my bedroom and started to build my own Rap CD collection which included Eminem, Dre Dre, Ludacris, D12, 50 Cent and Snoop Dogg. Like, I remember getting printed Eminem lyrics on A4 paper, as a present from one of my Mum’s friends, after that there was no looking back. I actually started writing both grime and rap lyrics in secondary school, but those lyrics remained in the drafts of my 6230 phone. I admit, I struggled to spit in time with a beat and the lyrics did not make sense in the slightest. In 2011, whilst studying at university, I remember scrolling through my Blackberry, writing my thoughts in my note pad. I would say that my life experiences made it difficult for me to express my thoughts and emotions, which led me to become frustrated adolescent. I started writing my thoughts down and I found it helped me to come to terms with my experiences.

What does poetry mean to me?

That’s a dope question. I would say that poetry means everything to me, as it has not only helped me to come to terms with my life experiences, but it has also helped me to use my experiences to help others. I have read so many books from different poets, like Pablo Neruda, John Keats, Allen Ginsberg, Phillip Larkin, Sylvia Plath, Gertrude Stein, William Shakespeare, Benjamin Zephaniah, Linton Kwesi Johnson. Poems such as ‘Stackolee’ and ‘The Signifying Monkey’ , which are two of my favourites. I would say that it is important that everyone feels that they have a voice to express themselves as well as share with others, as growing up I noticed many around me felt that they did not have a voice. I feel that poetry is an art form which can give all the young homies on the block, that lady serving at the tills in Sainbury’s, Bossman in the local corner shop, a chance for them to express themselves, as well as voice.