The Thoughts Of Just Another Brother: September 2012

Saturday 8 September 2012

The Beast Within The Boy...

I had arrived

I had arrived back

I had arrived back in class

I had arrived back in class with a new task

I had arrived back in class with a new task and new smarts

I had arrived back in class with a new task and new smarts and my thoughts

My thoughts

My thoughts had crawled through the dirt

My thoughts had crawled through the dirt and had been revived

My thoughts had crawled through the dirt and had been revived inside

My thoughts had crawled through the dirt and had been revived inside this mind

My thoughts had crawled through the dirt and had been revived inside this mind of mine

This mind of mine

This mind of mine had once given me sight

This mind of mine had once given me sight to realize

This mind of mine had once given me sight to realize I could reach new heights

This mind of mine had once given me sight to realize I could reach new heights and fly

This mind of mine had once given me sight to realize I could reach new heights and fly until my thoughts fell from the skies

My thoughts fell from the skies

My thoughts fell from the skies of this mind

My thoughts fell from the skies of this mind of mine

My thoughts fell from the skies of this mind of mine with the pride

My thoughts fell from the skies of this mind of mine with the pride of life

My thoughts fell from the skies of this mind of mine with the pride of life blaming my mind

Blaming my mind

Blaming my mind my thoughts

Blaming my mind my thoughts became enflamed

Blaming my mind my thoughts became enflamed with rage

Blaming my mind my thoughts became enflamed with rage as they travelled through the flames

Blaming my mind my thoughts became enflamed with rage as they travelled through the flames caged

Through the flames caged

Through the flames caged in a cage

Through the flames caged in a cage enraged

Through the flames caged in a cage enraged chained

Through the flames caged in a cage enraged chained in chains

Through the flames caged in a cage enraged chained in chains until they realised what they were gave

We realised what we were gave

We realised what we were gave were real eyes

We realised what we were gave were real eyes and a real lease of life

We realised what we were gave were real eyes and a real lease of life in order to realise

We realised what we were gave were real eyes and real life lease of life in order to realise what lies

We realised what we were gave were real eyes and real life lease of life in order to realise what lies in the boy’s great mind

But even we were left wondering whether or not the boy was within the beast or whether the beast was within the boy?

Every Ending Bring's Forth A New Beginning...

Every ending brings forth a new beginning. I feel that I have come along way since the beginning with regards to my writing. I have been taken to places through my writing that I thought were never imaginable. I have to admit that its been a humbling experience for me which I hope can benefit from in my future life. I am confident that I have plenty more to give with my writing in the foreseeable future, as I still amazed with what written word in capable of. I class this first series of pieces as only the beginning but only fate knows where this will lead me to. On another note I am currently working on 'Besides The Banter' which is the long awaited follow up project to 'The Thoughts Of Just Another Brother'. This project will possibly be much bigger then this one, which I hope will not disappoint. This is all I can say at this present moment with regards to that but hopefully it should be up and running in no time. I have one last surprise before I go, I was told not to start something that I couldn't finish. This means I have one final post to long awaited first series which I hope will offer some form of resolution.

Just Another Brother

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.