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

Saturday, 21 April 2012

The Thoughts Of Just Another Brother...

My slave name is Daniel Richard Nathan Thompson

This is the last confession of a damned soul

This is my last confession as I do my last walk on death row

As I walked the preacher sprinkled me with holy water

Sprinkled me with holy water which ran from my head to my throat

As the water ran the boys sang

The boys sang wade in the water as they watched me go

I said one last word before I go

The warden said

"Speak"

I Said

"Mama Young Bubuloo loves you but uncles calling me home"

That was my last confession before I was taken from sweet home

Most of the time my mind felt split in two

I remember the good old days I spent in solitude

The days when it felt like someone pierced my head

Felt like someone pierced my head and sent a javelin through

I remember the good old days I spent time in the hole

I remember getting into a jail fight one time

I remember getting ambushed in showers with a pole

This is my story

This my story some say it ended a little prematurely

In the end it ended a little gory

But I'm just another brother so there's no need to morn me

My story ended in the chair

My mind in full flight in the sky

My mind in the flights of the sky sailing through the air

My mind felt trapped encircling the same continent

It dream't of greater adventures and the distant shores

Where was my true destination

My mind wasn't sure

My mind was and still is like a pyramid

All the thoughts within are written in hieroglyphs

The traps are set for a unfortunate few

For a unfortunate few to fly through the trap doors

To fly through to crack their skulls on the floors

As the sandstorm begins

All the blocks of bricks crumble and my mind shifts

My mind shifts just like the shifts of a rub-ix

Ironically all the squares are red

I think my minds fixed

The color my mind wants me to see

My mind picks

Thoughts run through my mind

My mind kicks

Some of the thoughts I have are just ruthless

Ruthless to show similarities to Anubis

Difference is there's nothing legendary about me

the shape of my thoughts are similar to a Greek myth

I compare my mind to a Greek myth as its similar to Tartarus

With every new thought and it seems my mind sins

A new opportunity for thought was felt

Felt as they hit the light switch

It was denied as my minds like a disobedient child

A disobedient child I need to get my mind pinched

Sometimes It thinks like a slave

I need to get my mind lynched

My mind always strives for freedom I've noticed

It tries to run for my miles when I only give it an inch

My mind thinks highly of itself and tries to climb cliffs

That day

It was brought back down to earth

As they tightened the straps upon my wrists

As they tightened the straps

One by one they headed for the door

In my chair I jolted forward

I know my mind felt it

I felt my mind wince
Their eyes crystallized to see my brains on the floor

I'm actually glad they saved me from all the senseless violence

My screams were heard through the walls as time ticked

My mind began to howl for the moon

I know it wished werewolves were real

wished werewolves were real so there would be blood all over the room

The last howl in room was heard as the clock struck noon

As the clock struck noon

All watching had assumed I had met my doom

But little did they know my inner flame still burns beneath my eyelids...

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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
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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.