Poetry Piece: Deja Vu~AnxietyPHOBIA (Duet with Vaggy Gisa)

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(Stanza 1 – Bob Mugaba)

Rising up early before the sound ringing of the alarm
Wondering if invisible false tingling sense jus bit my underarm
My body soul pain jetting up in fire like I need a firearm
Engulfed in a state I wonder if it wasn’t self momified embalmed
They say I will be lucky if I put first my foot left on the ground
But the right one didn’t right things to give me a crown
Dad! Dad!! My kid in the other room will make a ply round
Gettin up,walkin up in the boy’s room echoin of walls rebound
What is up my son? Dad I saw a spider on the fourth cupboard corner
Lookin down sighing to see the now three lefted feet cupboard  couldn’t  make a move
As the broke fourth foot got nothing but shadowed length to lose
Findin no other words to say but keepin my cool
While preparing my boy to make it a day at the school
While fixing up the three feet prob with what’s left of the stool
Feelin my hands full but the joy of seein him rises and fool for a day deathcrew
Kid at heart wit a joy of a superhero  for a moment morning cartoons
Gettin his bag,dad let’s go I don’t wanna get late for class by Miss Spoon
Cracking down knuckles holdin and wishing him luck while while walkin at the bus station
Battling everyday minimum wage like a miss-the-bus day
Were we meant to be this?live like it’s a not a hustle everyday day
Crossing legs long jumpin bus gate,two francs to the next stop
Sitting by the window mirroring transparent  former old job
Turned into a senseless gone with the wind blow nonstop
They say they r closing the business no more revenue
Why is that they still sellin smokinpots at my desk venue?
Drifting eyes wide open,when I saw this lady by the window corner view
Lookin at me wit the tense deep sense of Deja vu..

(Stanza 2 – Vaggy Gisa)

The sun is up again
No pain,no gain!
My pain resides
In opening my eyes…
This world haven’t
Been on my side for a while now!!
I had it all…
I wasn’t grateful at all…
I walked!
Was my definition…
I would catch attention!
I was admired,
But not ignored!
In front of my mirror,
Or the rest of it…
My wrinkles are the horror
I face at every rising
As a remainder
Of my scars!
I don’t need no redeemer.
At every rising,
I hope it was the last.
Covering up this itching
In clothes fast,
To get back
To the breeze!!
Are my besties!
Because my eyes
Is it not funny?
I hate rising
But every
I rush to go make
This life happen!
Taking a last breath
Before I walk out…
I open my curtains
So the sun hits!!
Pain kills!
But the least
To do is to make
These beasts

(Stanza 3 – Bob Mugaba)

Little did they know
Myself lookin thru this trivia, seeing/feeling her
La vida
Sounded visual sweet comin from miss Ipanema
Nzahabonimana she was telling me
Word from a heart coming from the querida
A sight of Deja vu unlocking some memories
Untold dreams 28 years ago in Burundi
Never knw later I will soil the foot on kunduchi
Hotel by the shore of the indian ocean in Tanzania
Eating fish and drinking margarita
Laying my eyes on her tryin to decipher by the bus window
Was she playing mandolin, cello or harmonica?
She put a sense of invisible strings of enigma
This is my dejavu-chronology-phobia

(Stanza 4 – Vaggy Gisa)

Why my eyes are meeting yours?
The right question is
Why my eyes can’t get enough of yours?
I don’t get it!
Is this a lesson of their God?
-Not given any reason to believe in IT!!-
Is an IT for me…
Let me shock you another day!
In the darkness
Of your sight,
I have found my brightness.
Crying for recognition…
I die for attention
Like before…
I wish,
I want,
I ask…
For your recognition!!
I want to be the one u SEE
To be the one u SEEK!
I am sick…
Only your odor
Can heal!!
In the flavor
Of the breeze,your sex appeal
Will calm
The thunderstorm
In my palm!!
My new
I will shine
For you!!
For the sake of this short-circuit
In the pursuit
Of this journey!
[Their] God might be good!
Will be your name!!

Poetry Piece: Self Propelling

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(A personal piece keen to my heart ignited for propelling.)

Self Propelling

I open my eyes i rise
Breathing this spectrum light band
Laying my hand on this early guitar stand
A feel, a touch , a microscopic trend
Or a blend, would life give me a chance?

On this morning i fast track my life as i am running
I made a dream 28 years back in Bujumbura
Promised my father i will honor my life gahundas
It started with a pencil a drafting table
Trying to find a difference between a bubble and an insect beetle
Never knew Cezanne, Van Gogh or Picasso
That time i doodled with a glue later i knew it was called Gesso
All this elements of life and its nature
As showcased in my father’s sketchbook bird features

Never thought i would draw after i got it in my hands
Dad’s sketchbook with an eagle crown royal full strength
He told me life is what you make it with spectrum hands
Pottery art or fractal art mathematics
I grew up fine art-ing my semantics
Trying to boost the ant to feel gigantic
Sources of inspiration make look up Sistine Chapel
I pile up my dreams are living a real Inception
Letting the two sides of my brain kisses each other in eternal actions
Left doing illogical mirroring right logical
I am sometimes lost of words i go “voice instrumental”

I let my hand go for quintessential deepness
As i strive to express my mind on this notebook paper-press
Paper to canvas mixing oil and acrylics
Unforgivable scent from eyes to nose consumption
For you and me i am on a journey full of critics
But i will ride high with my paints dilution
Making a chemical feeling i am off propelling
Aiming to touch the clouds i boarded plane rocketing
Life teaching me of high temperature credibility
But i keep humble as i am being taught by Professor Gravity.

poem: riding my one wheel bicycle

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Poem inspired by the 1994 genocide in Rwanda.


Sitting on a wooden chair staring at the wall
Mainly the shadow of what seems back in the days a round but now tore Metallic sound of cycles in my mind and on a physical wall board
A two wheel guiding transport which became a one wheel one
Stained with an old dusty color which was once red
Reminiscing of aged blood stains, blood shed 19 years ago
On a sunny Sunday morning of April in a mountain race, there we go
Remember those days we use to cycle and run with Cousin Luke
Bicycles in two’s we were pair always adventuring in the world we fantasized Little did we know something big than both of ourselves was organized? Something that changed our lives and make us ever one wheeled victimized
And prayers could not stop what was about to be witnessed  
Ordinary day was that 7th April morning
Silent plain breeze was winding on our clothing
Radio was broadcasting some nasty songs about killing
Cockroaches we wondered until they told us we were pinpointed
By the IDs we carried everyday it made us look separate from the other side They said at the radio.
Quickly mind awake with no clear plan or whatsoever
Ultimate goal was to get away of our house on the high mountain over
Running down the hills till we reach the border
Border till we jump the clear side heaven corner Luke in front me at the rear Pedaling with fear but with changing gears
Race against time but mostly trying to beat “path unclear”
What mattered was the finishing line
As long as there was light at the front our bicycles
Spinning wheels and spinning hearts cycles at the same tempo
United for survival was the same echo
Until we first hit our first roadblock
With dogs barking and their masters eyeing our arrival with knives in stocks Told Luke if we stopped we going to be meat in pile stocks
We don’t have a choice got to make a breakthrough
Tires screeching pushed to their limit
Off we hit the narrow sides of the road block
They tried to hit us with knives we tried to dive through
And just like we are about to pass through, one was quick enough to jump
And slit Luke’s throat pushing us both of equilibrium off the bridge cliff down below
The river embroiled with colorless water but abnormally blood-painted
Got hold on Luke and swam up to the shore
Catching my breath and looked on my side Found Luke exhaling his last breath saying good bye
Couldn’t hold my tears as they rolled down my cheeks to the river’ cry  

Nineteen years later after the Tutsi Genocide
Rwanda my beloved country your up to your fallen ones commemoration
For the 19th time feeling empowered by standing firm and moving forward Memories of the ones that used to carry the lights have passed to others onwards
Keeping the candlelight living in our hearts forever for justice and hope
United as one for all young needs energy self-relied regeneration of fire keeping burning
I stand here looking at my wall with my one wheel bicycle striving for long cycles
Ready to take my everyday ride keeping my life one tire momentum

Album Review: A Love Surreal – Bilal

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Butterfly.Slipping Away.Right at the Core.How can i introduce Bilal or rather his music by mentioning some few tracks from his 4th LP: “ A Love Surreal“. Bilal singing caught me when i was listening to one of Common songs in 1999 called “A 6th sense” quite a catchy song with the rhymes and conscious message behind, but the voiceful chorus, by Bilal, is what makes the track more beautiful.Got to know Bilal was part of the collective that rose in the 1999-2000s era called theSoulquarians which was made by D’Angelo,The Roots,Erikah Badu,James Poyser,Common…etc to name a few. Bilal went to have his first album with awesome track “Soul Sista” and i was like,this  guy’s music has to be part of my shelf or bag wherever i would be moving:-) been listening to him ever since,his latest album before A Love surreal called Airtight Revenge is a powerful RnB fused with soul and electronic pop that blends and tells you a tale of man who is trying to make an impact in Music in his own way.

A Love Surreal is a continuation of dedication and determination Bilal puts in his music. The album title and artwork is inspired from a surrealist painter called Salvador Dali. The concept of the album is providing a surreal but yet real feeling of a relationship beginning with its downs and up and its final awakening to something beautiful. Bilal takes you on a journey of love and track by track you feel like following a story with its beginning and at least its end to the understanding of each nature all that with infused soul,rnb,jazz,electronic pop and funk.

The album opens up with:

1.Intro : a sympathic musical eclectic sound that puts you in the moody soulful vibration of the album.

2.West Side Girl: upbeat song with a laid back mood,where bilal striving to confess love to a lady.

3.Back To Love: To my opinion the funkiest track of the album and setting the tone of it. We all have one time question or feeling of getting back to love and share the most amazing things through whatever come what may.

4.Winning Hand: Strong and powerful chorus,Bilal goes hard on this one and is not afraid of letting you know he goes hard on his voice,acknowledging the strong character of his lady to be resourceful especially in the love showcased.

5.Climbing: The tone of the album starts getting higher on this one,beautifuly musically mixed,this track is one of my favorites as Bilal is not afraid to let you in suspens of his voicing ability. Love gets more explicit as Bilal takes his woman to the limit and let the feeling “Climbs”

6.Longing and Waiting: Surrealistically getting love to its paroxysm,love stripped naked at its core and fusion of two embodied feelings.Powerful.

7.Right At the Core: Downs and ups of love but with the reality at hands,bilal tries to understand what went wrong and why is it starting to stall but let her knows that he is still smitten and despite what is there,he is there to be there.

8.Slipping Away: Love in a continuous spiral down in incertitude and stalling. Things getting out of control especially when a relationship does not have its main fruit juiced up for a while as it starts to dry out.

9.Lost for Now: Broken hearted love keeping bilal and his lady apart.Pain.Feelings-less walk through life big ocean of love and hate,punctuated with a spirit/hope of love rekindling.

10.Astray: Love went astray,but hope is there to keep it moving,Bilal at it again courting/wishing/reminiscing the good old days where pink and black was a matching pair and working his way up back to love.

11.Never Be the Same: Hope is still alive,but the rekindle is taking long, will it happen or it wont? Will it be the same or there is a need of a change. Bilal singin  implication of trying to change even though there seems to be no light at the end of the tunnel, but still worth a try.

12.Butterfly(feat.Robert Glasper): My favorite track of the album,fused with jazz and soul.Bilal is not afraid to show his voice palette. Robert Glasper complete the ensemble with piano melody that lifts and takes you away. I Cant stop listening to this track,powerful,masterfully keyed together. Love compared as a butterfly who wants to fly away and needs to spread its wings and fly away. A.W.E.S.O.M.E!!!  basically rekindling love taking a new shape and new begining like a butterfly who awakes for the first in its full beautifulness.

13.The Flow: Rekindled love with on a new begininng with a different flow of seeing things, relationship given a second new chance as its the right time is the “now”. Beautiful upbeat track,with drummy feeling.Funky for ya!

14. Outro: The album ends in a musical diaphonic conversation where you left to connect the two dots between the begining and continuation of the journey.Beautiful.

On that note,A Love Surreal is a solid,powerful,masterfullywritten album that blends/fuse jazz,soul,RnB, one of the best albums of 2013 so far. an album worth to be put on a shelf close to that record you had been listening to for decades and listened to countless times. Bilal continues to amaze me with his down to earth personality and musicianship. Let your “butterfly” spread its wings. I have been listening to the sound of it flying high above.

Poetry Piece : Backfacing Faces (Duet with Lady J Karita)

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Hello all!

Back with another piece called “Backfacing Faces” a collabo duet with the talented wordsmith lady J Karita.. Enjoy

(Stanza - J Karita)

Everybody deserves a chance
Better yet a second chance
If they promise to better themselves
But I became a bit bitter
Soon as I realized it didn't matter
How nice I was to you
I gave you my first dance as promised
Hoping I’d follow your steps as u followed my leads
But the evil in your core had swallowed u all alive
And turned your soul into scattered beads
Now when you ask about my trust issues
I’ll ask u why it's so hard for you to keep a promise
I’ll ask what happened to loyalty, your majesty!
And maybe you'll tell me what I should do
When the one I’d take a bullet for
Is the one pulling the trigger
I’ll ask you how will I ever rest in peace when I leave
If I didn't live in it while alive
My life ain't no piece of cake
But is it a crime to fill it with space cakes
While seeking for my own peace of mind?

(Stanza 2 - Robert Mugaba)

A piece of mind in need of a rewind
Of things running back reminding what did mind
Reminiscing those days we were Like the palms of both hands
Same palms that clapped together in one same trance
Rhythmic were both of our arms arcing movement
When we auditioned and made it through the tango band recruitment
Sigh..thought we would be more than soulmates we were vibing
Symmetrically on one foot mirrored to Cuban flavored sound
Standing back to back holding each other emotions
Didn't knw we were much more distanced by our heads far up motions
Yet I thought stepdancing down was closer to dancestepping up
If one was given a shot to run the show
Shoulder to shoulder was supposed to be a run and go
When was our last time dual rehearsal turned to a beat in the back
around "am the one up not u" kind of removal
Cutting the deal to a one man show cover for real
With my sweat added up why fronting back : "yo! What's the deal?"
Deal that cut our feet walking dual flowed my right feet
balancing wit ur left foot
Into a monochrome left gifted ur footstep bad-twineed to
selfish greedy self,keep it, I don't give a kaput!
Sad it had to go this way we left past our mark and part ways
Wish I could get a freeze time of our back in the days
But I know it will come futurewise if u want to mend our bind
For a same 'ol revitalized friendlyforgiveable grind

(Stanza 3 - J Karita)
We could rewind, we could replay as much as we can
But can we repay the price it will take to redo what we had
Can we attempt to repaint those beautiful sceneries?
Can we quit cropping each other in our rehearsals?
Can we stop auto-tuning the truth when we tell our story?
Can we hold hands without grinding our teeth?
Can we try to get back on stage and do what we do best?
Can you turn your back without dreading that I’d stab you?
Can I turn mine without fearing that you’d let me fall?
I often try to remember when it all started
Did I do half a step on a full beat?
Did I give you space, while you needed time?
But time I didn’t have, for I am no goddess
Was it our stage fright that torn us apart?
Or was it that ego we couldn’t let go of?
Of course I miss you and I want to mend our bind
I want to bind our trends and intertwine
If only we could not allow time to make us blind

Poetry piece : Recovery 2012

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As I walk down the corridors of the hospital
With a dismay look on the face at my disposal
Don’t know what else to think, not having ideas straight
Did not knw how I could make it to the area’s gate
When I heard bad news that just happened to michel,mate
Climbed up the stairs of the ICU inquiring the brother’s fate
Excuse me doctor: ” Is that pain gonna go away?”
Doctor says back:” I can’t tell until we see the X-rays”
Is it broken ribs, swallowed head or eyes dilutions?
Critical body condition raising mind doubtful question:
Is he goin to be alright?
Or he needs the scanner’s beam light?
Then, we look down in our innerselves
Trying to find the deepest comfort 
To dwell in and dust this sorrow off the shelves
My peers here we gathered in circle for a prayer effort

One week later light coming, shinin thru the door
When all hearts were low but feelings were less hurt
And made us raise our eyes in mode “alert”
Brotha Mich. shout out the voice, still hungry for more
Thank you Jesus,he could put a foot again on the floor
Even if on  his bed wit a broken rib he cracks a joke for sure
And walk again to to shout out loud gone was the sore

Felt somebody was touching my shoulder while I was still smiling
Wave back to greet the person warmthly indeed
Cold was the handshake I got thinking I was at deeds
He look at me and said; “Leoncia breathed out forever”
I looked up in disbelief :”don’t tell me whatever
Sighs of shock and stare was mixed in the blender of incertitude
Reminisced those days when she entered the company as an intern
Everything was brand new to her like school labs mid-term
Nevertheless she picked up the pieces and never let that chip burn
Off she went she made it to round two
The ones us folks had passed we called it interview
HR decided to give her a shot, she hold it high
Expectations were met she scored in a real justify
Asthma decided to giver her a shot too she tried to comply
Too much was the shot it pumped her lungs dry
We all could just stare and see her sighing goodbye..

Am sick of a pain I can’t feel
It’s weighing me down it’s emptying my body fill
Iam trying to find an answer or a  cardio pill
But it seems I am in to puzzle my own recovery drill
In hope God gives me a diagnostic that can cures my soul or my body wit benadryl
Faith it eases the virtual feeling doin me physical pain
I count on my blessings relieving me of a mind countless sadness chain
Keeping me moving carrying on my recovery.

Loyal to the mold

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Hey y’all!

Been a minute ;-) Got inspired recently with a piece on “Loyalty” and we did a collabo with my bro Dustin(thedustin.blog.com), this is what came out :

LOYAL TO THE MOLD (Feat. Dustin)

(Stanza1 – Robert Mugaba)

I entered the antic shop of my ancestor
Looking for the ancient yet present life curator
My arms doin a revolve around motion like a rotator
Reaching for wats deep even when the calluses dip in
Or herein u go wit a fling makein lovin a remaking
Sigh..I needed more Than my love for you slavery
It required more than jus bravery thru pain unmistakeably
Old man sat me down and schooled me about potery
Naturally delivered in a hands favor chivalry
2 or multiple hands building two same of a hand brand
Colored bumping of emotions molded on base no trickery
From down on your way up,swinging and melting in the made man oven
Brown to many eyes and pots to many finger feel side,often
Mixture of clay,soil and a mend together yet far like distant relatives
Gem seen outside,pearl on the inside,mold holding tight
Sun beaming on,painting rainbowing on vantage point sight
Why do we want to break wit battery
What was made and built properly?
A natural feel or thirst of bringing perjury
Drived insanely we need a way of palm hand surgery

(Stanza 2- Dustin)

From the elderly narrowed gaze, ideas were pitched onto me
Ideas of wisdom, pointed like arrows designed to renew my perception
To allow my soul open, and ready for the truth reception
Abruptly I interrupt the ongoing silent conversation
And scoff “I know where my loyalties lie”
But so easily, my demeanour gave me away  that I was trying to cover lies
I didn’t know any better, that the world is so absorbed in creation of monetary
So thirsty and eager that people’s ego took over their loyalty
Loyalty? To many this is literally the definition of irrelevant
Long as they find their way to the Wealth farm, regardless of the environment

(Stanza3 – Robert Mugaba)

Environment turning dolphins act un-ecofriendly
Sparkling in sharks shaking banks of water trust un-worthy
I am acting for two and deal with the ship in us
But it seems the deal-ship went havoc thru un-partnership
Sheeps or lambs living with wolves playing a championship
A team is made of two namely a one and a one mold-ship
Why do we keep carving our names in the sand ?
And not on a dual stone which mirror itself in a dual band
Why can’t we stop playing “banging” games?
And focus fraternity-hood in “hunger” games
When are we goin to stop jabbing and backstabbing?
And start acting and make that drama script working
What can’t we stick to two’s a company on the 11th day?
And turn to three’s a crowd on the 111th day
…sigh.. I pray to God our hearts live up  promises
And strive not to give up to my contract and acquaintances
Prayin this life wheels gravitate enough to carry us on
Hands in unity folded enough to get this plea on
Loyal to the mold dual talk and not walk alone
Keeping my pottery break-free mirrored in the zone

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