Author
An Essay on the historical relationship between the oppressed and institutions.
link to full article coming.
510.332.1319
Superscript
The (un)Reliable Narr8tor
dreamseeds
YBCA 10
2022
All the dreams fit to dream
This site is under construction
Welcome to the (un)Reliable Narr8tor,
You are invited behind the scenes as this element comes to life.
An inter-active blog, a picture gallery, and a list of links that will feed some of the oh so delicious conversations we will have here. will be among the first things added to the site.
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This is a 500 year experiment so settle in -- we will be here growing together for a while.
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Thank you,
The Narr8tor
1-510-332-1319
The WatchTower
The WatchTower is a part of the triptych MegaVerses the Offering by Ayodele Nzinga. This work is in collaboration with YBCA 20 members eesuu orundide and Corina Gould. The WatchTower is a consideration of gaze, surveillance and *sousveillance. This visual element incorporates a eucalyptus tree with an Ohlone cooking basket in its branches. Inside the tower the Doomsday clock counts the time before extinction of the human race. Below the clock Ayodele has created an intertextual connection between herself and orundide with the phrase "We are living in the last daze". The element is a statement on climate justice designed by Ayodele Nzinga, informed by an oral history offered by Corina Gould and executed by eesu orudide. Interaction with this installation subjects you to being recorded. Don't be alarmed. **You were probably recorded over 200 times last week and were largely unaware. At least here -- you know--we are watching the Tower watch us. Have you discovered where the feed from the WatchTower is captured inside the dreamseeds installation?
*"The term "sousveillance", coined by Steve Mann,[15] the term contrasts French words sur, meaning "above", and sous, meaning "below", i.e. "surveillance" denotes the "eye-in-the-sky" watching from above, whereas "sousveillance" denotes bringing the camera or other means of observation down to human level, either physically (mounting cameras on people rather than on buildings), or hierarchically (ordinary people doing the watching, rather than higher authorities or architectures doing the watching).[16][17][23]"
**https://www.studyfinds.org/americans-security-cameras-study/
The Witness
The witness is a poem in three movements.
Each movement concerns itself with a particular slice of time.
We start in the before or the past to get to this moment right here and then we postulate on the likely future.
The Narrator claims to remember the future.
---"it terrifies me"
The film directed by Adrian Burrell coming soon.
The Witness
The transcript of the proceedings just as they occurred unless of course they happened completely different.
The Witness
The first part.
In the beginning
{In the beginning
It is wise
to stand firmly in
the before
to remember the future
properly}
The circle unbroken
We address elders
before institution
we bow only
to the four directions
& drum where we want
We dance here
with the all-in-all
balance
harmony
reciprocity
this story starts with water
most stories do
elemental element
ancestors speak
where fresh & saltwater meet
the story of Yelamu
rises from the reeds
my story crossed
the graveyard in the ocean
important stories
start with water
remain undiluted even if
separated from the scared
are of flesh & spirit /even if
unwoven by blind & greedy
incivility remain attached
to the land
run in the bloodline nest in dna
coiled like
nations in a nation
all my stories
start before
“the ships”
with
everything in its place
(how things get so out of place)
paper genocides
makes flesh
genocides
invisible
in this story
no home at home
& no resting place
we meet to remember
ourselves aloud
we remember we have
lived the story
survived you in the story
if there is no story
do we exist outside of your
conquest fueled imagination
can you see us outside
museum installations
beyond musty warehouses
unceremoniously stacked
mislabeled cross-indexed
& guarded
Can you see us outside
Of conjured myths
concocted reasons do we exist
beyond hubris laced interruptions
rude interpretations and clumsy appropriation
& projections of race
shuffled and dealt off the bottom
severed
separated
dealt to off the bottom
of all the decks
justifying
hunted alive and as bone
mother from child
husband from wife
child from culture
culture from people
people from the land
memory from the people
human from us
sleeping cultures
stilling languages
slicing at the circle
seeding division
turning tongues
against tongue
still, we tell tales of
drinking gourds &
water baskets
omi tu tu
ona tu tu
tu tu eshu
tu tu egun
tu tu orisa
i crossed a graveyard
In the ocean to stand
Where saltwater & freshwater meet
Dislocated in the land of the displaced
In the shadow of
Tuyshtak
first nation & expatriated africans
dispossessed in amerika
with no resting place
gathered by
those who dispersed us
to fill empty white rooms
with the salt of our blood
shapes of our dreams
truth has come with us
like children home from boarding schools
bruised and in need of affirmation like
runaways & other retired slaves
still not free to breath
on the land
of running waters
we are not diverted
we are
a freshwater story
with our own mission
remembering before
the intersections
forced upon us
beyond the dreams
of small men
with the cross in one hand
swords in the other
disconnecting birthrights
slicing at the circle
covering the shellmounds
graveyards & other scared spaces
with cement & neon
diverting the creeks
redlining & reserving
where we can dream of ourselves
in a future you envision
neatly between movements
the rise and fall of civilizations
& the redevelopment of neighborhoods
we are here
In the flesh
still praying with our
hands moving
surviving the inhumanity of
enslavement from coast
to coast
Huichin to Yelamu to san jose
south carolina to mississippi
more than one trail of tears
every treaty ever made
broken
like breaking our
connections to the natural
& one another
not written in school books
not part of the myth
of the great frontier
made invisible
by waves of thievery
& silence
&silence
we will drum
where we
want
this is a story
of a circle
unbroken
we have come to testify in
graveyards
seen & unseen
on scared Shellmounds
standing with the dead
alive in us
living the story of
the circle
unbroken
The second part.
Right This Minute
{Babalu-aye
came cleansing
instructions say
go deep within
----cleanse
I am inside---
listening}
i was in the kitchen
when the institutions called
i answered the phone
i got a lot to say
they want to talk
about the open door
change wants to enter
they feel her presence
they want to center
the pulse of what comes next
they want a direct line
want to engage the subjects
& sometimes I
remember the future
i’m sure
we stood
right here
before
the edge of plague
war
& rumors of more
plagues & wars
the forest & the hood
on fire
been burning
no one sees
hears
cares
invisible from the tower
unaware
the pain the suffering
so close to the edge
dancing past recovery
hash tags & slogans
against fragile desperados
in existential free falls
calling on rain makers
mathematics mad dreamers
architects, bee keepers’
heretics monsters & mages
want to engage
star dust and tears
scared intersections
what majick can save us
in the kitchen we sit
faithful as the four directions
suspended between then and then
hyphenated shapeshifters intersected
fugitives runaways
conjuring freedom
harboring hope
smuggling
inverse majick
channeling survival
it’s a habit
empty walls are calling
we arrive uncatalogued
un-filed willfully raw
joyfully wild alive
unruly subjects
full of subtext
noisy work
chatting back
claude mckay
slipped in with me
i can’t be here
if I can’t bring
my whole story with me
ancestors breath
on all the text
dreamseeds in my pocket
praying with my hands moving
remembering
no solutions
or style points
for bravado
when all the institutions called
knock knocking on the door
we stood
right here before
edge of plague
war
& rumors of more
plague
& war
we been invited
the institutions say
this is your moment
what you got
show me
solve the problems
here’s a spotlight
go ahead
act like you don’t know
me – now
fix it
like you
told me
come patch
the holes with your story
cover the walls stand in the breaches
don’t let it fall
if it starts to topple
help prop it back up
it probably ain’t right
but can it be enough
reset – back to your desk
reframe-- how the noose hang
restore—the order
make it
back like it was
before
but better
{here
better means more
more
like it was
than it ever was before}
before the day the world
stood on our neck
for 8 minutes while
we were
force fed
the lynching
on loop
while the extrajudicial
murders continued
paused like deers’
in headlights
we
watched us die
institutions say
forgive us & keep
your eyes shut
keep your hands inside the ride
as we restart the engine
reset – back to your desk
reframe-- how the noose hang
restore—the order
close the door
we stood here before---
haunted by numbers
& the names of victims
we can’t afford
to know
& pretend to
stay sane
moving while wounded
in the kitchen remembering
the future
institutions on the phone
we home
here’s the mixtape
this how we living
welcome to the kitchen
this must be thanksgiving
don’t mean to be ungrateful
but what you buy
you got to pay for
no reset –
no reframe-
no restore-
still in the kitchen
sit down—stay
leave the door open
it gets hot in here
dreamseeds
are combustible
The Third part.
Space Nigazzz
{is it where
you are
or how
you are
that determines
who you are
in the universe}
it is said those who
fail to remember
the past are doomed
to repeat it
i remember to remember
dog stars ancient arks
myths of locomotion &
chariots swinging low
sometimes i remember the future
my soul still traveling
won’t leave the middle
passage
remembers
stardust & tears
& you
obsessed w/primacy
been blind for centuries
past on repeat
like a radio station
everything lost in translation
transactions over
relations
the future
if it happens
is hazy baby
it’s hazy baby
you got to acknowledge
the past
to remember it
ain’t hard to prophesize
when the past won’t die
sometimes i remember the future
& it terrifies me
! there will be black folks in the future
? so
we survive
sidebar: let’s talk AI
play this backwards
they listening …
“all along the watchtower’”
let’s return to the slippery slope---
once was some lazy folk
hi-jacked the consciousness
of whole cultures slaved
them into building them a world
on top a world cross the world
they fenced & fished this world
? to sunset it
? abandon it
one day it won’t sustain life
said the scientist
one planet at a time
silly rabbit---
i remember you
i wonder what machines
that can repair & upgrade
themselves will think of you-----
best be careful
that should hit like prayer for you
who weeps for the breakers
of treaties lazy fishermen
eating the last fish & legacies
pole cut from the last tree
roasted in a burning forest
fire set with the very last seeds
served cold under a crooked sky
right before
the rockets ride
galaxies
to colonize
by sunrise
i remember how the story ends
& we both know
if this is the only majick
you can use
you won’t produce
nothing new
for the last part
replay the first part
play this backwards
they listening
ayodele nzinga (c) 2022
Author
An essay on Black Fugivtivity
link to full article coming.
Author
An essay on the right to breath, rest, and dreams.
link to full article coming.
Under Construction
Come back soon to check our progress and to participate in the interactive portions of the page. You can call the Narrator and leave a message.
510-332-1319
The Black Creative Matrix