Hey All Yall

Bismillah...

Hey worldwide yall...may we heed the call...before we all fall...headlong into the fire...slaves to the lowest of desire...when did the universal moral fabric retire???

Up Downside

Bismillah...

Downside untied worldwide genocide divide misguide suicide~

Upside decide coincide applied unified provide guide pride reside inside!!!

~a~ME~lah~

Enough Lover For Me

Bismillah...from start to finish;

May my drive never waiver or diminish.

ameen...Driven by my need to please;

I've found the only position that grants me ease;

is my forehead kissing the floor on bended knees...

Desperate for my KING'S approval and love,

through my own iniquities I push and shove...

I cry out constantly while others sleep tight;

cause I heard HE's closet to me in the small of the night...

My longing is longer than the longest of long;

my greatest desire is to bow before HIS magnificent throne...

In the house of eternal light and sweet greetings of peace;

where sorrow never visits and fulfillment never cease...

I believe HIS promise is true, and HE is what I believe HIM to be;

therefore ALLAH, Al Wadud, will forever be enough lover for me....

~a-ME-lah~

Peace on Lock

The blessings of HAQQ...
is that it clears up all blocks;
placing peace on lock...
~a~ME~lah~

Mommie Goosey Love

GOD forgive my sins; 

make me and my daughters friends; 

and our hearts, PLEASE cleanse...ameen

Amelah El-Amin Redden

Enough Army...

Forced by the played hand to seek means from an unfamiliar and down right unloving source;

a cyclone of emotions sweep my faith in uncomfortable directions as I desperately strive to stay on my spiritual course.

Quietly fear preys on the vulnerability of my spirit...

it’s done in an almost silent whisper but if you listen closely you might be able to hear it...

Though mentally I can barely make out the message, my gut reveals much;

and it’s loudly telling me, “all that fear calls you to, you dare not touch...

I can’t let life’s temporary circumstances break my back;

each second is yet another opportunity to get on track;

to work on the things I want to posses, but know I lack;

so into my spiritual luggage only good deeds I pack...

My faith is my only sure bet;

no it’s not tangible, but it hasn’t failed me yet;

constant remembrance helps me not to forget,

even when with tears my face is soakin’ wet....

Far over the top is how some may see me;

but I’m certain there’s another warrior in humanity;

fighting the same battles praying for a victory;

and for us spiritual soldiers, "ALLAH is enough of an army!!!”

~a~ME~lah~

A Happy Soul

No regret for me;

embracing ALLAH's decree;

keeps my soul happy!!!

~a~ME~lah~

True Sucess

Giving is best....For

every blessing is a test;

strive for true success!!! 

~a~ME~lah~

Grateful for Gratitude

I am abundantly grateful for the miracles of gratitude;

the instant adjuster of my pessimistic and despairing attitude...

From my faith, family, friends, and foes,

to my eyes, ears, hands, legs, and toes...

On over to the sun, moon, wind, rain, and stars;

down to my struggles, achievements, healing, and scars... 

I am tremendously grateful for the serenity and contentment gratitude brings,

as it comforts the heart and shines clarity on the most complexed of things...a-ME-lah

Shaken to the sole of my Soul

The words shake me to the sole of my Soul;

as they entice my naffs to spiral out of control...

...and I only heard a snippet from a passing ride;

but it's one of the many anthems our youth sing with pride...

Spread disrespectfully from the windows to the walls;

young girls convinced sex will make them women remain open to constant mauls...

Being down on her knees should be reserved for prayer;

and Momma wasn't referring to her body when she told her, "it's always good to share!"

At least I don't think that's what she meant;

but, she too may be numb to the lyrics that accompany beats that sound heaven sent...

Lines that beckon the world's most prized possession to throw her worth away;

only to be defiled and demeaned by her caller in a game of horse play...

Please know, this is not an attack on us yall, it is a heartfelt cry;

to tell my women girl sisters, "We must honor our precious gifts 'til the day we die... "

Yet my loudest cry goes out to my men boy brothers who have been given the divine obligation to lead;

who have become intoxicated on the dysfunctional smoke screens that keep us enslaved even though we've been freed...

Diminishing our worth with each seed you unconsciously sow;

seeds that by nature take root, only to open the door for more dysfunction to grow...

On superficial stages you invite your queens to dance to the beat of  "master's" drum;

and with your lyrics you whip her into believing her only purpose is to relieve you of cum!!!

Even the most conscious of you lend the tracks your ear;

and though you "Don't Approve" when she "Works It" you silently cheer...

The artistry of Hip-Hop has been pimped and overly played in the flow of mainstream;

distorted and off course from the expressive genius of the lyrical revolutionary dream...

Pacified with the insignificant gain of paper that carries almost no value when measured alongside gold;

soldiers have become "yes men" for an industry governed by "mini" men whose hearts are empty and stone cold...

I encourage you to press mute the next time the hottest video is played; after which dissect the imagery;

asking yourself  "do these images honor or disgrace the foundation passed down through our ancestry???

Then, without the music, slowly read each and every word contained in the lyrics of the song;

are they morally uplifting, or do they call the listeners to participate in treating their own souls dead wrong???

You know, change has always come by way of the backs of a determined few;

who make the decision to no longer just stand by while their worse nightmares come true...

No, we cannot turn back the hand of time, or simply make the music stop;

but we can openly refuse to support the genocide being administered through mainstream hip-hop!!!

~a~ME~lah~ 

Infinitely "GOOD FRIDAY"

Humbly I must say,

in a soft way... "GOOD FRIDAY...

...is not just one day!!!"

a-ME-lah

Nine times Nine times Nine times Nine

As it be April nine in two thousand nine;

I ponder on the heritage of my maternal bloodline..

The feet at which my paradise lies was birthed on March nine;

from this my analytical thought process franticly seeks to pinpoint a sign...

Six sisters, two brothers, plus me equals nine;

Coincidence?  Not all, this undoubtedly was strictly by design...

Now as I ascend to the feet of my Grandmother, rest her soul, born June nine;

my mental excitement intensifies from this numerical history injection into my lifeline...

Nine times Nine times Nine times Nine is six thousand five hundred sixty one;

wait, seconds ago my thoughts lightened my load now suddenly they weigh a ton...

What difference does it make today that Granny departed this life on July nine;

is this just my continued attempt to locate my ancestral glow in a world that promises me no shine???

On the calendar March is three , June is six added together they make nine;

"in that there must be some significance?"  I can hear my self worth whine. 

Oh and what about me being born on the twenty-seventh day of January in nineteen sixty-nine?

In my reflection that fact brings into conception a history that I desperately grasp as mine!!!

Ultimately, GOD redeems whomever HE wills....says the Holy Qu'ran in verse twenty-seven of Chapter Nine;

which I admit into evidence as proof...this, descendent of a slave, girl's historical ties are being restored despite attempts to untwine...

nine times nine times nine times nine may hold no true ancestral significance at all;

but it is the equation that lends me footing in this life's game of identity crisis hardball...Amelah E.

Acceptance

Those I'm to protect;

I sometimes fail and neglect;

Oh! Me not perfect???

Amelah E.

Break Time

Two down, then two more plus one, equals five;

was it unconscious suicide, or did he honestly believe he could survive...

We can only wonder what the final thoughts are of one as desperate as he;

were they "LORD take me now", or "Yall got to be crazy if you think I'm just let you take me!"???

Did Oscar's senseless death haunt the corners of his brain, causing him to see nothing but blood red???

was this his way of dying on his feet, rather than on his knees with a bullet in his back, right below his head?

Certainly the angel of death was sent out to fulfill a mission;

and neither Oscar, Lovelle, nor those cops could have left this world without GOD's permission...

Surely, there is a sign in all things when pondered in reflection;

truth has a way of remaining true despite its constant rejection...

There's a war going on in the nation of the enslaved free;

there's a wall for the fallen soldiers on the streets of every city, not just in D.C.

The uniform of these soldiers are sagged jeans and white T's;

and they fight in a senseless war as  do the many soldiers over seas...

Why do we only protest as we lay the countless bodies down to rest???

Does life become more valuable once it reaches its final death???

I almost hesitate to write these mangled thoughts at each and every line;

for fear that they will simply remain words in another poem "A Sista Like Me" delivered in a rhyme...

My prayer is that these words push me into action & inspire others to do the same;

my deepest fear is to continue with doing nothing, then having to stand before my LORD in shame...

Having a president of color has its place in history;

but its not the coming of the Messiah, and real change must come from you and me...

We must take to the streets more than once or twice a year;

Dedicated peace lovers to whom displeasing GOD is their only fear...

If each one teaches one imagine the difference it will make;

in changing the lives of the up and coming generations, cause this cycle we've just got to break...Amelah 

March into April

Forward march I move into April now;

inspired by my brotha' to lay some letters down...

From my screen, me be not so skill'd as he;

so I hesitate, but only for a second or three...

For me, being skill'd has never been my matter;

I merely write as an attempt to quiet the silent chatter...

As my fitra's cries, simultaneously I hear my naffs scream;

both wanting to be the navigator that will determine my final dream...

Or my final nightmare depending on which one wins;

I long for all my deeds to be pure, yet so many of them are sins...

So for me the most passionate kiss is my forehead to the floor;

as I intimately beg the Oft Forgiving to forgive me once more...

Ya Rabbi...forgive me, forgive she, forgive he, forgive we;

forgive the masses for the many things that have come to be...ameen...Amelah E.

April's 1st For Me...Let's Start with a Haiku

I say, "Ya Rabbi!"
"Please remove all fear from me;"
"setting my dreams free!!!"

ameen...Amelah