Sagittarius

Luckily no one expects you to be on today, because you're a thousand miles away. Dream on -- your heart's coming up with some crucial stuff now.

Now And Then Irie-ites

I'd like to hear Puma again.

We Wan Go Free-Babylon Let Go

The best beat for bein'
Up against the wall

Is anything
A more blatant
expression
of a horizontal
Desire than
Rub a dub

I don't think so

Two
Intertwined

Man
Sheltering
Woman

A righteous
Reggae march

All the true believers
In the dancehall
Channeling their energy
Into one love.

Dub Night

Rub- A -Dub night
At the Jock Bar

Maybe the Haters
Will stay
Home
Or
Be too stoned to fight

P mama's countin' on it.

Check back tomorrow

I'll let you know.

Why Use The Big Head

When The Little One Works Just Fine?

Lessons For The Club And Beyond

The Head That Most Guys Think With

A Big Diamond Ring And A Bouncer Are A Girl's Best Friend

Leanin' on the wall
Takin a break

Then

Dude
That's been watching me
Dance
Finally heads over

In a Kenyan accent

Mama
I like the way you
Shake your ass
On the dance floor

Say what?!?

He clearly
Doesn't understand
The rules of the ride

I mean
I like the way you move
What
God gave you

Where's your husband?
He's at home.
Your husband's at home
And you're out?
Why?

He trusts me.
I don't believe you.
Show bling.


Uh,
I gotta go
To the men's room.

Next!

Diamonds Are Forever

Shake That Ass "Girl"

No Haters


Yeah,
P mama
Made it out
last night
It was a love-fest
international.

Everyone was groovin'
To a one love jam
It was unity all the way

China dolls dancin
with brown boys
Brown girls dancin
with
Tan boys
The whole universe
was mixin it up.

Except...
The White boys.

The same ones
That were
Stupid enough
To show their
Affection
By trying to drop
Pretty young things
On their heads
Last time.

Everyone else
was displaying
Their
One-love
Throw down
There's enough haters
Already vibe

Except for
Six over-priveleged
White guys that
Couldn't dance
Can't kiss
Can't love

Six
I got everything
I wanted from my
Mommy
and Daddy
Dudes

Except balance.


Way to Rumble.


Dub night's On Wednesday...

...Don't come back now

Ya Hear?

Black Eyed Peas And Unity

I like Clubs and Bouncers and Posters I can Rip Off From The Ladies Room!!!!!

When You Say Budweiser You've Said It All

Tempest In A Teapot

Pimp Mama
Was
A little
Under the weather
Last night

Not quite sure
What to
Wear
To a tempest
She stayed in to sip
Some virtual juice

About the club

She wondered if
Anyone noticed
Cotton Candy
Wasn't there

Was anyone
Thinking
About
Her Reckless
Soft Focus
In
Full Light

Window
To the inside
Behind

Police
In front

Silly kids
Too
Young to
Love

Trying to
Drop each other
On their heads
Off to our side

Soldier and
Candy
Hadn't cared

They
Took
Full
Stage

Pimp Mama
Stayed in
Last night.

Sagittarius

Do You Think It's Okay To Go Out?


Some conflicting energies are converging, whether in your own head or in those around you. Don't shy away from it; the resulting storm could be quite interesting, and at least it'll clear the air.

L'Eau de Vie

I lied

I went
To my bed
Instead

Because
You're there

In my mind
My
Self
Is
Overwhelmed
With you

When I
Bury
My Face
In my
Pillow
I can taste
Your scent

German, Irish And Cherokee

My Native American


Saturday.
While those other
Yellow jackets were
Swarming.

You were across
The dance floor.
Hangin' low.

No eye contact.
Not my turn.

I saw you looking
Sideways
When my boy
Jumped in-
to my dance.

Do you still
Like
My hair?

Cotton candy
Like you
Never Tasted.

See you
Friday night.

Pimp Mama ala Nico

Link

Ex-Child Soldier Becomes Kenya's Top Rapper

Ex-child soldier now Kenya's hottest rapper

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Ex-child soldier now Kenya's hottest rapper

Mon Mar 14,11:03 AM ET Top Stories - USATODAY.com


By Rob Crilly, Special for USA TODAY

Emmanuel Jal was eight when he was handed an AK-47 and trained to fight. By the time he was 13, he was a veteran of two civil wars and had seen hundreds of his comrades reduced to cannibalism as they struggled to survive in the Sudanese bush.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Today, the former child soldier is coming to grips with his new status as Kenya's hottest rapper.


Taking a break in a Nairobi recording studio, he sprawls on a cushion and tells his remarkable tale of death, music and the British wife of a warlord who saved him.


"What I have gone through and where I have been should encourage other people to realize that they can be saved, too," he says above the throbbing bass line pumping through the studio.


Earlier this month, his debut album -Gua, which means peace in his native Nuer language - had hit No. 4 on the Kenyan charts. The songs mix messages of peace, delivered in staccato English, Arabic and Nuer, with Jal's personal tale.


Now 25, Jal was born in southern Sudan just before the region was split by civil war. In 1983, rebels of the Sudan People's Liberation Army (SPLA) began a battle against the government in Khartoum for independence and control of the region's lucrative oilfields.


Taken away by rebels


When war reached Jal's small village in the Bentiu oil field, he says SPLA commanders ordered children to be transferred to U.N.-run refugee camps in Ethiopia where they would be fed by aid agencies and offered a simple education.


Jal's father had signed up with the rebels and his mother had recently died. So the 7-year-old had little choice but to find safety in the swollen camps. He stayed in school there for only six months.


"Then we were taken away from the camp to the bush for training," he says. "The United Nations (news - web sites) had no idea what was going on."


The SPLA was using the camps to recruit soldiers. The bigger boys were handed grenade launchers. Jal could only manage an AK-47. He grins as he remembers the thrill. "I was psyched up. It was so exciting to learn how to use a gun."


He was among thousands of child soldiers who were used to prop up Mengistu Haile Mariam's communist regime, allied with Sudanese rebels, as Ethiopian rebels closed in on the capital, Addis Ababa. As one of the youngest soldiers Jal was assigned to SPLA headquarters in Ethiopia. But he would sneak away to the front line.


When Mengistu was gone, the Sudanese rebels had to return to their homeland. Jal made his way to Juba, in southern Sudan, where SPLA troops were massing for an assault. "There were thousands of young boys like me," he says. "Their work was to weaken the government defenses by running through minefields and getting right at the enemy. Because they were lighter and could run fast, they had a better chance of surviving. I was among them."


One night, Jal, then 13, and almost 400 other child soldiers simply walked out.


The children carried enough corn grain and sorghum flour for a month, the time they thought it would take to reach safety. Three months later, racked with hunger and thirst, the child soldiers and a handful of adults were still stumbling through the Sudanese bush.


Cannibalism became the only way to eat. Jal remembers his lowest moment. "There was a night when my friend died and I was tempted to eat him the next day," he says. "I was eating almost anything. Snails. And when those things were no longer there I had no choice.


"We put mines around him so that if hyenas came at night they would not be able to take the body," Jal says. "The hyenas still managed to take him."





Jal was lucky. He reached the safety of Waat, a town in southeastern Jonglei state, before he had to consider cannibalism again. But by the time the children had staggered into the town, only 12 of the original 400 runaways had survived.

He was immediately picked out from the throng of homeless children by Emma McCune, a young Briton who worked for the Canadian aid group Street Kids International. McCune had married Riek Machar, leader of one of the two rival SPLA groups. She smuggled Jal from Sudan to Nairobi in a suitcase aboard an aid flight.

'Emma's War'

McCune died in 1993 in a car accident in Nairobi, leaving her 14-year-old charge in the care of friends and other aid workers. "She was like a mum," he says. "She would take me everywhere with her and got me into school."

McCune's story of love in a war-torn state was turned into a book, Emma's War, by Deborah Scroggins. 20th Century Fox and Tony Scott, director of Top Gun, are basing a movie on the book.

Today Jal lives with Machar, who is a distant cousin. They live in Kileleshwa, one of Nairobi's more fashionable districts, where Machar is the vice chairman of the Sudanese People's Liberation Movement.

Kenya's capital also is home to a thriving rap music scene. Jal turned his growing interest in African music toward hip-hop and performing to raise money for children's homes. With the support of backers in the USA and Europe, he recorded Gua last year. It reached record shops last month.

DJ Moz (the stage name of Moses Mathenge) was one of the first to play the album on Kenyan radio after seeing the rapper perform for Sudanese refugees in northern Kenya. "As well as simply being great songs, people are really getting into the lyrics, really understanding his message," says DJ Moz, who hosts a rap show on the Nairobi radio station Metro FM. "And he is a great role model for young Sudanese and Kenyan men."

Two months ago, Sudanese rebel leaders and government ministers met to agree on the final terms of a peace deal designed to end Sudan's 21-year civil war between the north and the south. It took considerable pressure from the international community, particularly the United States, to keep both sides at the talks. Government and rebels agreed on a series of power-sharing structures and on holding a referendum in six years on independence for the south.

In his Nairobi recording studio, Jal says he is optimistic about the future of his country. "There have been many peace deals that have failed before. This one looks more serious. The world is focused on it and America is really behind it, so I think it will work."

I Fell In

Your lips are pliant
Beneath mine.
Your scent enrobes me
While
The softness of our mouths
Interlocked
Sends me to
A land
Surrounded by
Soft focus.

Crushed Velvet

I saw you
come
in.

You saw
a few other
enlisted men
swarming around
me.

They were as annoying
as yellowjackets on
a september afternoon.

I looked around the corner
when you gave the dj your jacket
It seemed you pretended not to see.

You let me bounce off the wall
All by myself
For quite a while.
Maybe just until
You noticed the soldier
In front of me
Was about to
Turn around.

As you claimed me
Soldier's buddy said
Man
You waited too long.

Parallel Universe

Where'd They Go?

Universe A Deux

We didn't ask
We just did.

There weren't any questions
So answers weren't necessary.

In our parallel universe
There were no rules.

For a while
We existed
For each other alone.
The encumbrances
Of the world
Fell off
In our embrace .

We just did
We didn't ask.

SagittariusNov 22 - Dec 21

Whoever said 'Don't talk to strangers' didn't understand your nearly magical ability to make connections. Let a smile be your introduction and see where it goes from there.

You Need A Heart That's Filled With Music

How It Is

What's with guys anyway?
Even when they're old enough to know better.

I prefer my dancehall soldiers.

Pheromones .
No strings attached.

Soldiers don't worry, like you do .
That I don't want them because
I pretended not to notice when amber earrings flirted with you.

Soldiers know we'll each get what we want.
No questions asked.

Synchronized rhythm .
Deep breaths of one another.
Heat.

Head pressed to chest
Deeper breaths.
Rock together
Sway as one
Breathe.

Soldiers don't ask if I want to get romantic.
We've transcended romance.
We are intoxicants to each other.
Breathe.

For a couple of short hours I'll dance
With the boy that grew up on the same schist I did.
Goshen stone .
Glacial rock of reknown.
His slice looks as unstable as the hillsides of Topanga
With no illusion of wealth.


He doesn't know who I am.
Has no idea I watched him grow up
By the side of the road.


This now, man boy
He grew up so hard.
M.S. too.
Why's he being tested so bad ?

Head pressed to chest
Deeper breaths.
Rock together
Sway as one.
Breathe.

Synchronized rhythm .
Deep breaths of one another.
Heat.

Lights up.

Goodnight.

The Uniform

Playboy Bunny

"I'll be your playboy bunny.
I'll give you ransom money
Gotta get that honey
Need that honey."

Repeat in head tree hundred thousand times.

Then, remember the reprise that says:

"I need that honey;
gotta get that honey.

No? Okay."

Native American

P Mama had to hit the club last night.
After a couple of false starts on the dance floor.
A soldier showed up.
German, Irish And Cherokee.
He's apple pie.
He looked Latino though.

He was a tiny thing
Maybe an inch shorter than me
I'm 5'2".
He's little dynamo
Tight as a spring.

Asked how old I was.
I brushed it off.
He didn't ask again after
We danced horizontal to the floor.

New tune.
I like your hair.
What nationality are you?
I'll be here every Friday.
Will you?
Maybe.

If We Can't Make It Thru The Front We'll Go Thru The Side

A whole week of suicide talk and
Depression news
Propelled me out of the house.

Had to go to my club and find one of my soldiers.

My boy was up against the wall
In the corner.
Cane off to the side.
He has M.S.
Remember?

He hasn't forgotten.

Told me he was having a bad day.
Bad equates uncontrollable muscle fatigue.
This rock hard, little boy of 36
With the washboard abs
2% body fat tops
Might fall down.
Those tree trunks he calls legs can barely hold him up tonight.

Still, he's there.

Waiting
To sway with me and to plant fat, hot kisses on my third eye
While
We're up against the wall conjoined.

My Soldier

Last week I went to my club and there was a soldier;
Leanin' up against the wall with a cane.
Not some ghetto bad boy, been shot down.
Little boy, (class of '87) makes him about 36, I guess.
No, he's no gangsta, he's a victim of a senseless prison.
M.S.
Still out there .
Workin' it, workin' it hard .
Said there's nothin' else he can do.
He's rockin' it, makin' it work.
Long as it lasts.
My soldier.
You keep me goin'.

Universal Language

Listen how the music makes me wind up the waist
Listen to the sound of the drum and the bass.


The opiate quality of your essential oil draws me in
Along with the heat of the music.

I don't know what it is. You won't tell me.

It imprints in my mind and stays there like a scented void.

I think I catch drifts of jasmine or tuberose in the air.
Weeks after you're gone.

This time you wear less.
To pull me in, really in, along with the beat of the music.

Against the wall, our party a deux goes on.

Your boys stand in front of us creating a human shield to our dance.

We are sheltered in our little scented universe.

Only the dj can see us now.

Feel the Love

Go On Brush Ya Shoulders Off