if you are ever Ras Babi

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care and peace.x

where do i begin.......?

for too long i have spoken from my pain,
and not my truth.

My family,
my children,
whys and why i am so alone here.

My friends.

Lost
Empty
gone
spoken
through clenched fists
deep hurt
struggle
trauma
old past ruin triggered by nothing or something calling the flood
of feeling
buried water
past

like karma

like pain

too long i have not uttered truth
and if i dare
even if
i am wrong

if i dare to speak
-how will you hear me?

With open ears
or
closed minds

open hearts
or
clenched fists.

Choose your rebelion,
but do not fight me,
not anymore.

Noone here can fight me,
it is not a challenge,
it is a kind of promise.



From when i miss you,
and thought we could dream things real...
i always said; if you can feel it, you can make it real....




i cannot stop myself now.
I am burning on the bridge between the worlds......

Let me kindle.

Alight.

Touch me.

burn.

It is soft, like feathers or breath.
It is light, like hope or feeling good...

like breathing out.

I am breathing out

all my sickness, struggle, pursuits..

breathing out...
all my shit...

all of me ....out....



I am guided by footsteps....it is as if....i remember, but do not know.......Once, i must have known, and i wonder at all that i have lost to get where i am now, how much of me has become part of this sacrifice...and what for? To be known, to become, to remember......my journey retold an endless times, so meaningfull.....each tiny aspect recalled to my heart to be breathed into light life, become love......to become love again......

i shall be born through my love, i am certain of that. i can feel what is and will be but have forgotten what it looks like. When i see i feel like saying "yes! that is it!!!"...but i cannot always find the right words.......and am too absorbed to stay in touch with the truth and not the feeling.....but i am centering.
It is part of the becoming, the remembering.

I have nowhere to go.

I am here already.

Yes. The remembering.

What do you remember, love?

Where do you think you came from?
What do you feel you are?

Speak to me in your silence, when no-one is around. Talk to me as if i were yourself, your heart, the sky or love....gentle stillness, dusk and dawn.....Look and find me in everything you see,Can you feel it? Is it you seeking me or me seeking you?...Be present.....you will find me. I am here, in your moment, within all things. You are my gift, and i am yours. You are my love, become my love and you will know me. Become love, become one with me and open up to our divine journey.
Togetherness is our purpose, here and now.

i will wait for you to speak.
so

i am waiting......

welcome b(l)ack

come come whoever you are.
Wonderer worshipper lover of leaving
even if you have broken your vow a thousand times before.
Come.


Ours is not the caravan of despair,
come.

no more buts

you have always run away.
You think you are being chased.
It is your sad story.

You tell it often.

It is your ticket onto the train.

"but"

I have been here for long also.

Before the tracks were laid.

When mountains had names and songs still in their hearts,
when we could remember.....

Shall i speak?

Or hold my breath?

What do you know of change?



You are still blaming Them.

But they have gone home.

They have caught the last train home, and now they wait to see who you will point at.

It is not us,
It is you.

It is time to wake up from your dream.

You are old, yes, but not so clever.

You can read, and rewrite things.

You can see.

But you do not understand.

Come and listen,

I am at the mouth of the spring, the source,

i come from within.

Will you sit and listen?

I know how to make the change.

Do you want to learn?

I know you can do it..., but,..Jah man..

I know you can
you are special
I knew this
since
my eyes met with
every
and
each
one of you
but
Jah man
Has been
in this Babylon
so long
I needed you to understand
I believe
in what I have done
people
have the power to go in many directions
but
Jah man
has been
in the train
for long
late
late
Drama workshop
have fun
ras babi
is not
that important
I love you all
each
and every one
somehow
energies
meet
indeed.

Change.

so we move.

Let go of your disbelief.

Let go of your fear, your pain, your sorrow, regret.

Now we have changed.

What shall we hold?

Each others hands...

......and jump.


I believe we can fly.

And i am proud to die trying

with You.




we will die.....

.....But the higher we climb,

the longer we will have in the air......

I quit...

Sweet dream...
I quit
they can buy you
not me
you gave them your hand

it has been long
since we have met
for the first time
cold
lonely
you were
look at you now

fuc....
fuc....
you are damaging my head
what is wrong with you?
I thought you believed in the people
look at you

maybe
I am wrong
I am the one
who sings
a solo song
in your dream
not in my soul dream
it is just a piece of land

I quit it
I quit it
I quit it
I quit u
sweet dream
clean me
before
selling me

seekers.....-what?

wake up.
Please.

seekers.....why?

2. Empowering our community with art

1.Seeking understanding, us

2. I am disappointed

1. Why, what happened?

2. I think I am a dreamer

1. You are a crazy man

2. I know

1. Maybe tea, I make it

2. O k

1. O k

2. Nice one

(A break of 3 to 7 minutes)

1. Nice tea

2. I know, you made it, what did you put?

1. Secret

2. I tell you a story?

1. Good

The story happened long time a go, they say; a Sufi was the wisest of his time, people used to go to visit him, when they feel they can not handle the loads they carry. One day while the Sufi was waiting for anyone to visit him, a man who looked worried and tired; stepped in, the Sufi invited him, to get in and sit down, after doing so, the wise one offered him water, and asked:

Sufi:

What makes the brother breathing with difficulties?

Man:

It is the bag I carry

Sufi:

Is it too heavy?

Man:

Yes it is, master

Sufi:

Do you want to get rid of it, for a short time?

Man:

Can I?

Sufi:

For one day; leave it with the ones inside there, in that room with the others, and come tomorrow for it

Man:

Thank you, good man

(He runs away light)

1. Did it finish?

2. What?

1. Your story

2. It is not my story, I have heard it time ago, no, it did not finish

1. So what happened?

2. The other morning the man came back as he promised, after having his water; the Sufi asked him to go inside the room, where the loads are, and to pick anyone that suit him, the man did so; and came back with a big smile on his face, and said to the master:

Man: I prefer this one, I feel right with it, and I do not like any of the others

Sufi: my good brother, you just picked your same bag

(The man ran away very happy)

1. It is o k

2. I know

1. I did not get it

2. I know

1. Can we talk about seekers?

2. what of them?

1. Everyone is confused, they do not know what you want them to do

2. Who is every one?

1. X, Y, and W

2. No they are not

1. Someone said; why ras babi presents, what does he do?

2. Someone does not like the man

1. Other said: why can not we change the theme for next month?

2. The theme for next month is The Forest

1. I did not know

2. Me too

1. Funny thing

2. Yes it is

1. You o k

2. yes I am, and you

1. Not bad

2. People have different experiences

1. They do

2. Money can make sell your brother, your sister

1. I know, money, money, the alternative dream needs no money

2. I know, before the deer falls in the hands, the hunters sold it

1. What deer?

2. Seekers will be great man, every one knows what is going on, I made sure they all know, I spend my time moving from one to the other like a toy

1. Do you have the poster?

2. the poster is done by a genius one, he has got it right, a lot artists around there, encourage me in what I am doing, they understand it, they know it is not about the man; it is about every one, some they know, although I do not spend time with them talking and down loading my projects, they are the reason I am still there

1. What do you mean?

2. What do you mean?

ras babi presents:seekers/Friday28.03.08

Them give definitions to words and things
I and I and I...
full of art
just seek a place
and harmony with this earth
we are sharing
Definition: Seeker (Meaning of Seeker)

Someone
Someone…someone hear me.
I am Gaia…
Someone hear me…
I am your Goddess, but you disrespect me, mistreat me…
I am your Queen, but you’ve made me your slave.

Someone hear me…
I am Gaia…
I am your rock…
I am your mother…
And you…are my ungrateful children
Who suckle at my breast and then spit in my face.

Someone hear me…
I am Gaia…
Someone hear me…
I am your rhythm, but you’re not dancing.

Someone hear me…
I am Gaia…
I have given you life….
But, my children, you harm me, rape me…
Must a mother be treated this way?

Someone hear me…
I am Gaia…
Someone hear me…
Respect your sister and brother…
Love your Mother.

Jcat

someones!!!!

what a sweet and endless feeling of family and love...!!!! let us never forget how productive our collectivity is in positive and beautious compelling and real ways!!
I LOVE US!!!!

Ok.
Lets change the world.
peace up.x

om shanti big ups all round. (circles of belonging)

Someone

More Photos

Bloody games!!! We are not going to China this time....why?

again...
come on sing with me
sing with me...
the strongest of all
brother Steve told the thief
I wont...
I will not participate...
there is war...
and you are the Mr...
who gives the weapons to the killers
to the rappers of the women
to general al-Basir and his men
your veto
China gives them permission
genocide is your child China....

let us say it again
we have no problem with the Chinese
ras babi loves the people
and hates the oppressors
art is the mystical thing
we will show the whole world
we will support the victims of these bloody games
in Tibet
in China
and in Burma and Darfur
the people have the right
to enjoy their living
just like you and others
why not?
with art we can say what they want
we can be their voice
we are humans
we see their suffering
we hear their screaming
the guns are shooting them
and we are the ones
who can stop China from supporting
a punch of fanatics
a punch of real lunatics
who do not care
all what they want
is attention
carry on sing it
the song for the people
with art...
we are defending the people
NO
NO
HUNDREDS OF NOS
please do not go
do not be the one
who share their guilt
do not go to China this time
do it for the sweetness of their black skin
slow down the rhythm
let the drums get in
and we all sing
in my name they have done horrible things
the people made Hitler
millions of brothers and sisters Jews have gone
just like that
he has killed millions
and our world was impotent
no words
violins and candles are taking control
innocents souls
blood and shame are covering our life
we ran from Rwanda few years back
we are ignoring the people in Palestine
let us start to show the power of art
the Rastaman says
hay mista
are you listing?
this is a pen not a gun
it is a word not a bullet
or one of your bombs
mista...
you have no heart
we know that
it is a bout the power of art
maybe...
maybe...
something is left there
in the dark
in your soul mista
it is just a call
and the strongest song
I AND I AND I
ever had

Almajnuun and the thief.(some one)

Is this all the world has to sell?
I would have thought it had more.
Where are the women?
I know, i know, transient behaviour.
Lust.
Deeply filled with a grip of self serving gratification or an endless pursuit of joy and union at the service of some hot lookin-atcha punanaay.
What ever bites your biscuit.
The naturalness of effortless attraction, mutually bound in the fascination of the other as the self is unburied from its cold solitude.
Self.
That is what life is no?


*

can she see us?
(she can see.)
*


i do not know this place.
(it is her sweet dream)
It was before my time. It belongs to my father.
I can see his dreams, his curls and ambition, subtle, pervasive, ever consistant and loyal.
(he finds a woman)
She will be my mother. She was here at my birth.
(((sweet dream)))
she will be the death of me, bringing me here.
I do not know where to belong. In whose hands. Is it envy or fear....or does no one care.
If i cannot be seen...will they hear me?
I care not for their words.
These sentances will strangle me. like tentacles from the deep come to drag me down.
I must be sure to corse through these turbelent waters with an intrepid and wicked speed.
Ill winds will cut me a guidance and the wash of grief stricken wretchedness will find no meeting with me.
I am grown under what has been done or will seem to do, i am thorough, i am fully
i come from under
from under from under

breathe my stink
feed on my dirt my blood my hunger
take without knowing, steal without plunder
let all these things find their way into your blood, by poisen and chemical and breath....
that will be your sickness.
Nothing else will hold you.
Fail in your choices.
Let scripture fade let ink dry up
but let blood flow....freely.
And let the words be rewritten.

blow cruel winds that mark my passage
blow free and wild and chase the sun from my shadow
blow through bones and bricks and mortar my little pigs
devour the stillness and tear from them their sounds

we will open a new age.
And Death, sweet Death, will be its guidance, its gaurdian.

Remember now, oh life, that which is born to you now.
For it will leave, as the winds blow and push you for a time, so life is you for but an experience
the wind shall leave, and i with it, turning our backs to the moon and sun and self
where will we rest?
what is for sure?


(a change, now, as good as a rest,
for we are not alone.
Mixed feelings and the sound of a voice,
he asks and can only say):

do you remeber when we kissed and you layed by my side?
You said we lived close, that we could find the centre of the whirlwind where it is calm and there is peace, there we would hold each other,
and if the storm took us
we would fly to death but not be torn apart

(Days pass, turning into years, the seas rise and fall, oceans take land and new lands are born. Pharoahs, kings, politicians and priests, rise and fall, ownership takes lands and new lands are born.
The ocean, the rain and the strom, wash away the kingdoms of men.
The earth will eat itself to live forever.
You may be swallowed, consumed.
You may be devoured, feasted upon.
You may pass gently back into it all.
Death does not consume life, it is the guide of eternity.
And it will guide you.
As it feeds you, clothes you, and lays down your anscestors so their blood can rise in you.
Death does not stop life.
Life continues.
Forever, it would seem.
So we wait.
Await the coming of the end.
How will it be?
A change? to what? to where?
How can it end?
Wait and see.....)

its taking a long time.
When does it get over.

But i am learning things. Many things. I have seen the gold rise and fall. I have perfected, a thousand times, the art of desire. I have seen these trees be grass be ocean be marsh and fenn land, desert to jungle, and back again.
This earth does not stay still.
And all the while, this great darkness spins all things purposefully, stars flood into being and light is sucked into itself to produce more stars elsewhere.....Planets dance spirals and egg shapes around collosall orbs or burning......existance is in each one, the gasses, stars, rocks and burning sunstars......and pity the mortals who think that existance only looks human or animal....vegtable....when all things are defined a course by creation and do not belong to themselves........
How the stars would laugh if i could explain it to them.
But they will not.
If only you could see it all.
His majestys greatest plan, to sacrifice into life.

i have watched you now for a long time. I know your ways and have realised your secrets. I know your issues, motivations, dreams and desires. I am nourished with a clear understanding of who you are. I see the things you don't see. I see why. I know your heart beating, your tounge when you sleep. I know your every breath, th eones you breath eand the ones that go missed. I see your toenails grow, i notice the movement of hair as it gets longer. I am slow, and quick, and i am aware all the time.
Your virtues, and vices, are mine to behold.

The stars would be amazed to see what i can see.
But they will not.
It is funny. I shall be my own sun.

I shall not miss them when they are gone.
But i will always wish that i could have one with them.
One with you.

(Again the mood changes, but only to turn away.
Now we face someone, but we are not sure who it is.
We cannot go too far.

We cannot go too far.)

ras babi presents: someone/ Friday 22.02.08 at the Forest cafe

it is late...
I know
people are in their beds...
dreaming
and I and I
is here
in the head

someone...
someone close to the man soul
to my... my heart
is trying....

knock...
knock...

...is knocking
is trying to tell me something
something I do not know
am I gonna let go?

come
come in someone
I am trying...
come in
someone
trying.

them.....by blue

guns and pieces

colours...
words...
music
sweetness
kindness
love
understanding
guns...
you can buy them
the guns are cowards
it is hard to do the good
very easy to destroy
we shout out loud
all what we want is peace
stand firm
do the right thing
them is not the police man
them is in the head
let them dance
celebrate
bring them pieces
from your head
share them
mobilize them
give them a chance
to feel it
you can stop the war
you have done it once
you can do it now
peace and love
arms industry
toy factory
one word can kill them
one bullet is cheap

THEM

ras babi presents THEM/Friday25.01.2008 at the Forest...

Them themes...
them themes are everywhere
attention
in my cells and in yours
them is in the the head
like cop in the head

love and promises
repulsion
we will make them performers
them auditorium
they keep on watching us
they do not want to be part

them belly full
we hungry
for your art
invade the stage
just like words
through all means