• Tag Archives Kotob Khan
  • Binary Star – Democrazy (Waterworld 3 Album)

    I went to the bookstore on La Silky
    Kotob Khan was more like a community
    The people who worked there became my family away from family
    What we shared was a love for books, Islam and our humanity
    I went there to read and write to maintain my sanity
    As time flew rapidly, fast forward to calamity
    The Arab Spring happened so dramatically
    The revolution was happening
    I asked for books that would educate me beyond the flat screens
    Shafiq and Amr recommended Naghuib Mahfouz and Galal Amin
    Practically, taught me more about their culture
    Introduced me to Muhammad Munir and the Ultras
    As the Pulitzer Prize winners held their poses, hanging on the posters
    New water boiled over
    Steam roller
    The protesters grew bolder
    The revolution was NOT over
    I ignored the TV cameras and clamor
    And questioned my brothers who had answers
    Mixed with stamina
    For me protesting was no rarity
    This was not a parody,
    I stood in solidarity
    You could feel the tension in the air we breathe
    Amr told me to meet them at the Bookstore and from there we would march with the thousands who took it to the square MC
    Equals E
    I showed up thirty minutes earlier than the scheduled meeting just to make sure we were leaving
    Amr wore the Egyptian flag like a cape, draped
    Shafiq was already downtown, but he called and said wait
    Soldiers were checking passports and me being from the States might not be safe
    So they advised me to go back to my place
    My Literary Military who promised me protection admitted what was at stake
    The thought of my children in this foreign land was the only thing that made me hesitate leaving
    The walk home didn’t feel great
    I felt like a waste
    Sitting in my apartment dormant
    Mind racing like Gordon
    My friends were out there united
    And I felt like I was at home hiding
    I felt like crying to Allah for guidance
    Then I picked up a pen and started writing…
    Big nation
    fist waving at a dictator

    Draining power from the generators

    The man woman and child, across the generations

    Everybody entangled
    Crowd under the arid clouds,
    but missles raining

    Gang banging see the blood and the cripple babies
    Poking out a nipple lady
    run away, they Lynch and hang’em

    They say the system’s changing

    trigga fingers mixer fade em
    But the big stations still didn’t play’em

    Bloodthirsty east to wes like mister kraven
    Is this Satan? demons waiting on a demonstration

    missed prayers
    tents pitched in the big square
    Welcome to the glitch matrix

    They omit data

    tick tick tick tick tick
    getting impatient

    armed soldiers vs the brick masons

    tears dangle from the gas wears the ventilation
    Get it? get vacant
    No more kids playing

    inflation, infiltration, causing inflammation

    Pushing displacement

    disc causing discomfort like you piss razors
    Instigators teeth way sharper than a swimming gator

    not really complicated
    ignorant to danger

    sometimes the bullets went stray and a couple hit strangers

    Modern times like the Pharoahs from the distant ages
    It’s an understatement if I told that the shits crazy

    It’s really no time to get lazy

    Sun rais’em where the Nile is the river basin

    Winter blazing but some hearts seem refrigerator

    Bin ladens in the city no relation to a bin Franklin

    Receive a standing ovation on ya chin greying

    Wise said a sword ain’t as mighty as the pen and page is

    Revolution in a Facebook/Twitter nation
    politicians over the hill,
    this more like Himalayas

    Lifestyles of the rich and famous

    Religious statements from the one who kiss the babies
    But their hearts seem rotten like the apple
    I ain’t talking where the knicks is playing

    Figure skaters
    in the palace with the Piston players

    different neighbors
    Poor people with the pinched payments
    Vent hatred

    The early birds get it first, hook the fish later

    And that’s deeper than a splinter cut traveled by some Witch hazel

    Heard it thru grapevine of my temptations
    Time to get naked for a minute, bare facts

    Dick, anus say hooee
    for the pimp players

    Licking lips
    feel shackles on the wrist ankles

    The newspapers printin hatred got it mistaken
    Propaganda hit the fan
    and now the shit stanking

    When the camera’s shoot
    stars get spangled
    Watch the banners get tailored be the first one to get famous

    Life’s a b!tch
    But some lives can be the Vic,

    Michael may be in the pits player