DASUN SHINE

The Cornerstorm of Urban Poetics

Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

I’M STILL IN LOVE WITH YOU (TRINIDAD)

Posted by Dasun Allah on December 2, 2010

I’M STILL IN LOVE (WITH YOU GIRL)
To the Tune of Sean Paul’s verses on
“I’m Still in Love With You”
(Sean Paul feat. Sasha)

Rainy day Maracas Bay there with the Trinity
Noticing the vibes and how they’re losing all intensity
Red gyul I didn’t want you as an enemy
But your amor is no more, you bring an enmity
Now I can’t go anywhere without a memory
Feel it in my belly and I know there is no remedy
Spent too much time always trying reinventing me
that the world turned and your concerns ain’t really enter me
Took it for granted you would stay in my vicinity
And hold on as long as it would take to bring the victory
When you left, I was near death, almost the end of me
I’m still loving you and it’ll be true for all infinity

(Written: Circa 2006)

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DASUN ALLAH ON GLOBAL GRIND

Posted by Dasun Allah on June 10, 2010

Peace! Here’s a little something I did for Global Grind:

http://globalgrind.com/channel/news/content/1601229/40-acres-and-a-bentley-why-not-a-ciroc-party/

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THE MEANING OF COBO BOBO

Posted by Dasun Allah on May 8, 2010

The COBO in nature is a vulture, specifically the Cathartes aura or the Turkey Vulture. Known as the “John Crow” in some parts of the Caribbean, in Trinidad and Tobago it is called the “cobo,” derived from the French word “corbeau” (which actually translates into “raven” another bird of significance to the original people of North America.) They are raptors. The cobo is used to symbolize the birds of heaven and the cleansing forces of nature (Revelation 19: 17-21).

BOBO, although it applies to a specific house of Rastafari, is generically used in this term to refer to the warrior-priest class and encompasses the spirit our ancient indigenous warrior societies and those of the modern age such as the Mau Mau of Kenya, Nyahbinghi of the Congo and the Dog and Wolf societies of the wilderness of North America.

The idea of “Cobo Bobo” occurred in November of 2005 in St. James/Port-of-Spain, Trinidad while traveling along with a local Bobo Rasta named Zebbie (Zebulun). I saw six cobo flying east and then shortly thereafter, another bird, a seventh that was much larger than the first six. When I returned home and asked my mother-in-law about the bigger bird, she said that it was a CONDOR! Having just learned of the Native American prophecy of the reunion of the EAGLE, which represents the north, and the Condor, which represents the south (http://tiny.cc/aq0pb), I saw this as a sign.

The chant of “COBO BOBO!!!” erupted from my mouth during the euphoria of this epiphany. Thus the war cry was born.

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ODE TO ESCAPING THE RHYME

Posted by Dasun Allah on August 2, 2009

I am trying, but I can’t escape the rhyme.

When I am writing the spoken word pieces the concepts come to me in rhyme and when I lose the rhyme I sometimes lose my momentum and it becomes awkward. The rhythm is lost, and even when I start without rhyme it eventually asserts itself.

My sister says that I shouldn’t fight it, that I am good at writing in the rhyme and should not fight my strengths… The path of least resistance. But should I conquer this?

I have had this discussion about escaping the rhyme since at least 2002, and I still find that as I move away from rhyme, I move away from potency of message and lose the strength of the stream of thought. The signal comes in words that rhyme, that’s how I hear it. And when I break from the rhyme, I am not writing what I am being told. I am doing something else and it isn’t as pure.

Why can’t I escape the rhyme?

Someone told me to write my thoughts as an essay and then build the piece from that. I will try that, but my method has been more organic, the rhymes come to me, the words flow and I stop writing when I stop hearing them and then I go back and dot i’s and cross t’s. Most of best work came to me straight and then I polished it. That’s why I have it hard working from outlines in my creative work.

In journalism, I can piece it together, but literary art flows, it is difficult for me to assemble.

Why can’t I escape?

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