<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353</id><updated>2011-04-21T14:32:19.099-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ghettonomad</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>48</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-116040222661877204</id><published>2006-10-09T06:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-20T14:26:36.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Calm before the Storm</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/IMGP2541%20(Small).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/IMGP2541%20%28Small%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Calm before the Storm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-116040222661877204?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/116040222661877204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=116040222661877204' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/116040222661877204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/116040222661877204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2006/10/calm-before-storm.html' title='Calm before the Storm'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-116040214820206791</id><published>2006-10-09T06:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T13:51:53.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Interpreter's Blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/IMGP2490%20(Small).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/IMGP2490%20%28Small%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Interpreter's Blog&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-116040214820206791?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/116040214820206791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=116040214820206791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/116040214820206791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/116040214820206791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2006/10/interpreters-blog.html' title='The Interpreter&apos;s Blog'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-116040192946822139</id><published>2006-10-09T06:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-04T01:01:54.003-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Way of Ibn Blacktuta</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/IMGP2339%20bw%20(Small).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/IMGP2339%20bw%20%28Small%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Way of Ibn Blacktuta&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-116040192946822139?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/116040192946822139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=116040192946822139' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/116040192946822139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/116040192946822139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2006/10/way-of-ibn-blacktuta.html' title='The Way of Ibn Blacktuta'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-116040186990117451</id><published>2006-10-09T06:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T08:46:43.328-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Distant Thoughts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/IMGP2332%20bw%20%28Small%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/IMGP2332%20bw%20%28Small%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Distant Thoughts&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-116040186990117451?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/116040186990117451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=116040186990117451' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/116040186990117451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/116040186990117451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2006/10/distant-thoughts.html' title='Distant Thoughts'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-116040125421113650</id><published>2006-10-09T06:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-31T08:47:43.970-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Miseducation of Luqmaan Will (iams)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/IMGP2442.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/IMGP2442.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Miseducation of Luqmaan Will (iams)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-116040125421113650?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/116040125421113650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=116040125421113650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/116040125421113650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/116040125421113650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2006/10/uncle-toms-treats.html' title='The Miseducation of Luqmaan Will (iams)'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-113935679286255558</id><published>2006-02-07T15:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-16T21:52:15.956-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sister Act 3</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/Sister%20Act%203.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/Sister%20Act%203.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sister Act 3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Replacing Whoopi Goldberg and Lauryn Hill in Sister Act 3 will be my mother, Aunt Becky and Aunt Katie due to a conflict in schedule with Ms. Goldberg and Ms. Hill. This sequel is sure to be as funny and entertaining as the first two, because it's rich with deep southern love, gentleness and care. With a cameo appearance by my loving grandmother, Manute. She's sure to delight the audience with her high pitched voice and her inquiring mind which might teeter on being nosy. This is a family comedy that stresses the importance of family and sharing. They'll take you on their travels to Niagara Falls, northern migration and reflect on their life in the deep south. With hysterical banter from Grandma Nute this is sure to be the comedy of the year. Please check local media guides to find out what theaters are premiering this G-rated family comedy.  Sister Act 3 is sure to grab top honors this week at the box office.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-113935679286255558?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/113935679286255558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=113935679286255558' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113935679286255558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113935679286255558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2006/02/sister-act-3.html' title='Sister Act 3'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-113935585185192433</id><published>2006-02-07T15:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-20T09:35:46.030-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Brotherly Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/Brotherly%20Love%20-%20Football.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/Brotherly%20Love%20-%20Football.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brotherly Love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My eldest brother Tony introduced us to football. And my brother Steve and I ran with it. He was the quarterback and I was the wide receiver. Tony taught us how to run pass routes and other techniques. Tony bought us a Nerf football and the rest is history. Steve and I connected for touchdown plays like AT&amp;T connects customers. We played down the man, backyard football, and street football. We used to challenge other streets and neighborhoods to games and we'd demolish them. I'd catch a minimum of 7 touchdowns a game. And it wasn't because of my speed that I caught so many TD's, but due to my savvy, precise route running and timing with my quarterback. We'll go down in the football annals as the best combination, better than Montana to Rice, better than Marino to Clayton and Duper, better than Aikman to Irvin and of course better than McNabb to T.O. who by the way could use some brotherly love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-113935585185192433?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/113935585185192433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=113935585185192433' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113935585185192433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113935585185192433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2006/02/brotherly-love.html' title='Brotherly Love'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-113935575921179804</id><published>2006-02-07T15:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-03T22:01:33.113-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Up, Up and Away</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/83%20Take%20it%20to"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/83%20Take%20it%20to%20%27em.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Up, Up and Away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basketball wasn't my first passion, football and baseball were. One of my elementary school friends, the late Sebastian Greene, encouraged me to play for the Collinwood Community Team under Coach Buddy King. Buddy as everyone affectionately called him, would come from crosstown, pick us up twice a week in his van and take us crosstown to play in league games. He'd also make us bring toothbrushes, deodorant and other toiletries as he was teaching more than basketball. Although I had few tangible skills, I dominated in my first game with height, hardwork and hustle. This put me on the basketball map. But due to Buddy's decision of demoting me to second-stringer I decided to opt out of playing hoops. It wasn't until Kevin Windham needed another player for halfcourt basketball during Rec time, that I even thought about playing again. I played so well that day, he made sure I played basketball instead of playing tag. It was then that I decided to give hoops another chance. I rejoined Buddy's team as a second-stringer. The next year rolled around and we had a basketball team at Margaret Spellacy Junior High School which caused some excitement on my behalf. The only problem was I didn't go out for the team. I decided playing basketball wasn't worth being chased home, jumped and called derogatory names by white folk. So, I decided to continue to play with Buddy while my other friends made the Spellacy team and took the abuse and other things that went alongwith going to school in a white neighborhood. Since the Speallacy team was new and about to start the season in a few weeks they decided to scrimmage the Collinwood Community Team in the old church on Aspinwall. I lit up the nets from deep with long J's and destroyed them with dribble drives on that Saturday morning. On Monday morning the Spellacy coach, Coach Fazekas asked me if I was interested in joining the team. Within a week I became a starter. I went on to become Co-MVP that same year. That summer I worked hard at polishing my game and ever since then it's been up, up and away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-113935575921179804?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/113935575921179804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=113935575921179804' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113935575921179804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113935575921179804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2006/02/up-up-and-away.html' title='Up, Up and Away'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-113935557977122590</id><published>2006-02-07T15:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-23T21:07:55.726-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Humble Beginnings</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/Humble%20Beginnings.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/Humble%20Beginnings.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Humble Beginnings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother took us to Hatchechubbee, Alabama black to the house she was raised in. I know you're probably asking yourself, "where's Hatchechubbee?" Well, you won't find Hatchechubbee on any map. It's one of those small towns known for dirt roads, sharecropping and lynching black folks. My grandfather, Lee Dawson, realizing the great opportunities, sharecropping and the potential for lynchings held, he decided to venture up south to Cleveland, Ohio.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-113935557977122590?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/113935557977122590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=113935557977122590' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113935557977122590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113935557977122590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2006/02/humble-beginnings.html' title='Humble Beginnings'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-113935501202120467</id><published>2006-02-07T15:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-24T21:31:37.006-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Makkan Moves</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/Makkan%20Moves.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/Makkan%20Moves.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makkan Moves&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Retracing the steps of the revered Hagar and Ishmael, I drank from the same spring that God provided for them in their time of desperation and need. Moving between the valleys and feeling the presence of the prophets of old and taking in the landscape and reflecting on the history of this place caused an epiphany. The surreal became real. Reflecting on the Sacred House (Ka'ba) built by the noble Abraham and his noble son, Ishmael. Remembering that the honored Jesus roamed in this wilderness during his 40 day absence. Realizing that I was following the prophetic model of making my way to the Sacred House renewed me with a sense of serenity and certainty. Spiritual exhiliration and illumination overcame me. An intensity of my grandparents prayers, hopes and aspirations being fulfilled. A wonderful spirit enveloped and comforted me, which led me to continue following the path of the prophets as I made my Makkan moves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-113935501202120467?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/113935501202120467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=113935501202120467' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113935501202120467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113935501202120467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2006/02/makkan-moves.html' title='Makkan Moves'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-113935470690211364</id><published>2006-02-07T15:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-20T18:55:57.363-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Family</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/Brotherly%20Love.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/Brotherly%20Love.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Family&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How does one begin to articulate family and its importance. Starting with the mindset of children is an excellent place to begin. A sibling welcomes the newborn and commences to teaching them language, habits, and traditions. But moreover than these matters they partake in the care, concern and protection of the new addition. They initiate the younger sibling into all of the nuances of family and societal life with love and responsibility. Even during their play time there are teaching moments. How to make a snowball, how to make an angel in the snow, how to play jacks and hopscotch and so many other how to's. Family is love and connectedness and a host of other fascinating intangibles. Often whilst passing through life, we add on to our family by the people we meet and who by their love, concern and connectedness become family as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-113935470690211364?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/113935470690211364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=113935470690211364' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113935470690211364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113935470690211364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2006/02/family.html' title='Family'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-113422317237249574</id><published>2005-12-10T05:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-09T00:25:56.316-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Moroccan Shake</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/suwara%20bw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/suwara%20bw.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Moroccan Shake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first year in Morocco, I spent living in the Imperial City of Marrakesh. Marrakesh's magnificience and marvelous culture made me feel like I was home. The people were proud, lighthearted, fun, hospitable and the food was sumptuous. Whether it was the various tajine dishes, bastilla, rafeesa or the famous couscous dishes you were going to partake in delicious dining. It's not simpy the way these meals are prepared but it's the way they're presented that really has a profound affect on the heart. The tales of Morocco run the gamut from breath-taking to horrifying. Well, this is one tale about a journey to As-Suwara, the coastal city on the West African Ocean that's approximately 90 minutes from Marrakesh. We commandeered a taxi and jetted off to As-Suwara. As-Suwara is a very laidblack city with an artsy flavor. The beautiful colors of buildings and homes, bring a certain calmness to the soul. It's certainly a place for the eyes to relax and find comfort and rest. As-Suwara is also known for it's Gnawa Music Festival's that are akin to Reggae Musical Explosions in Jamaica. The late great Jimi Hendrix spent some time in this magical city in the late 60's. You'll find people from all over the world and various blackgrounds coming to these musical gatherings. You'll meet people from Asia, Australia, Europe, South America, North America all jamming to the sounds of these funky musicians. As we entered the city, we saw these musicians doing a number and I couldn't help but join them and do "The Moroccan Shake" with them. Of course it cost me a few dirhams to do this lovely dance with them. We boogied oogied oogied for a few minutes and it left me with another beautiful moment in Morocco, the place of many myths yet many marvelous tales.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-113422317237249574?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/113422317237249574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=113422317237249574' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113422317237249574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113422317237249574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/12/moroccan-shake.html' title='The Moroccan Shake'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-113422296295114264</id><published>2005-12-10T05:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-28T09:33:29.516-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Classic M.C.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/Mc%20bw.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/Mc%20bw.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Classic M.C.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes Yes Yall! The powerful refrain that has become synonmous with Hip Hop. Now this entry is purely to share with you a few different styles about Hip Hop or MC-ing and not to go into the discussion about Rap or its history. But I will say as Sidi Jalal Nuriddin one of the pioneers for the collective called "The Last Poets" said, "Rap is an indictment." For further info on Sidi Jalal: &lt;a href="http://www.grandfatherofrap.com/index.html"&gt;http://www.grandfatherofrap.com/index.html&lt;/a&gt; . I've been rhyming since I was in the 5th grade. My first rhyme was about a picture my schoolmate, Bryan Young, had drawn of the legendary basketball player, Dr. J. From there I'd been influenced by such distinct personalities as The Last Poets, Gil Scott-Heron, Nipsey Russell and a cassette tape my brother, Chuck returned with from Howard University. So, when "Rapper's Delight" came out I was already in the mix, but what proprelled me to explore rhyming further was a track made by Count Coolout called "Rhythm, Rap, Rock." A few years later I ran into a fledgling M.C. known as The Awesome Greg G, who was staying with his uncle in the condiminium complex of Georgetown of the Highlands. We hooked up and we used to go on freestyle rampages. He was the ultimate B-Boy, tall, gifted with words, confident and defiant. He became my first partner and we formed our crew. We went down to a small gig one night and did an impromptu performance with D.J. Johnny-O on the Wheels of Steel and we performed for about 7 minutes with pure freestyle fury. D.J. Johnny-O and the Sorcerer Crew, with the Mighty Mike McAdoo, Waney D, D.J. Shock, and Dr. T were the rave of Northeast Ohio along with D.J. Cochise and the Bomb Squad. Dean Rufus a radio personality really gave Hip Hop an outlet in Cleveland, but it was probably D.J. Cochise who really cemented Hip Hop in Cleveland. Returning to the scene of the crime, unbeknownst to me Tommy Spates a classmate of mine happened to taped our performance and brought it to school and the rest is history. After The Awesome Greg G had to leave due to academic and other issues I decided to find another partner. Stepping up and B-Boying with me was D.J. Ham. He took the initial MC Lesson and was able to unleash a barrage of rhymes and we were some of the most prominent MC's in Cleveland. We used to rock Beckman Hall almost every week after a baskteball game but we did our real performances during Rec Period at school. I remember in Georgetown I did a freestyle assault for well over 15 minutes called "So Let it Rock" which B-Boy Classicist Donte Beasley can attest to to this day as probably the most hard-hitting non-stopping body-rocking 15 minutes of verbal dexterity. After proving myself on the local circuit I decided that Hip Hop was dead so I hung up my mic. It took me about 5 years to reclaim the mic and start afresh with a more earthy and substanced filled message. I later performed with The Makkan Experience, Jupiter 415 and A.M. P.M. For me Rap or Hip Hop was about one or three things: Conscious Rap, Ego Rap and Party Rap. I'll share with you two genre's that I loved:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ego Rap&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm a rap icon, known from here to zion, style’s deadly like a python, better get it right son, the original black titan, starting to get excite-ton, call me the Moorish don, listen to me son, been doing this before you were born, so ain't no need for me to toot my own horn, but you need to be warned, my knowledge has a form, striking like lightning hitting harder than a thunderstorm, you might wonder when this style was born, no need for alarm or to drag this on, call me lyrical champion, and as KRS-1 said, I’m still #1, 1, 1 (fade it out).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Conscious Rap&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is simply one perspective, you can choose to reject this (Islam).&lt;br /&gt;choice is another word for selective, but only those receptive,&lt;br /&gt;can comprehend the depth of this message (Koran).&lt;br /&gt;others just won’t get this, because they like ideas that are deceptive&lt;br /&gt;not wanting a plain and simple message, that's just not where their head is&lt;br /&gt;from B-Boy’s finest with rhymes that are timeless&lt;br /&gt;like diamonds you need to mind this, search all you want for styles like this, you can’t find this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard an MC a few years ago, named Mikail who recorded a CD called "Ways of My Song" with Remarkable Current and I found him to be the most refreshing thing to Hip Hop since the Beatbox. This is the classic Hip Hop CD, bar none; I rank it in the Top 5 of all-time Hip Hop albums/CD's. For further interest checkout the following sites:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.remarkablecurrent.com"&gt;http://www.remarkablecurrent.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amirsulaiman.com"&gt;http://www.amirsulaiman.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.22040.com/tbfam/mikial/2point1.htm"&gt;http://www.22040.com/tbfam/mikial/2point1.htm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until then, Yes Yes Yall and it don't stop!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-113422296295114264?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/113422296295114264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=113422296295114264' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113422296295114264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113422296295114264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/12/classic-mc.html' title='A Classic M.C.'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-113422254840902337</id><published>2005-12-10T05:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-04T22:26:59.610-08:00</updated><title type='text'>B-Boy Stance</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/b_boy%20bw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/b_boy%20bw.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B-Boy Stance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hip-Hop often receives low and dirty blows from masters of tricknology that try to hide their evil intent and more often than not, older Blacks unaware of what's being lodged, join in and say, "Amen!" Hip Hop is a medium that allows those without a pulpit or sounding board to express themselves. Hip Hop has been labeled misogynistic, crude and a plethora of negative words further alienating, disenfranchising and criminalizing young Black males specifically. Hip Hop and MC's have sought to broadcast and/or report what they see and experience and thus have been called "The Black CNN." Whatever ills these MC's speak of in their songs were long in usage before someone said, "Uh 1,2, Uh 1,2." Yes, there's a certain level of responsibility and there are ways to paint pictures without low and base language, but where are the men, be they in the pulpit, corporate offices, City Hall, Congress etc. to mentor and coach these youths and legislate against the inequities that they live in daily. Many see a reality and are tired of the fantasy world that we'd like to project for them. Hip Hop has given so many people jobs and ambitions where many would have fallen into the cracks or faced an early death. So, in all fairness if we want to start with some of the ills of Hip Hop let's start with the misogyny of women in corporations, politics, advertisement etc. Let's begin with the poor school systems that lack financial resources and self-serving superintendants of school districts. Let's deal with police brutality and suspicion for looking like a criminal. Let's go after corrupt professional politicians who use tricknology and hate-filled messages under the guise of being Patriotic to control its citizenry. Yes, Hip Hop has its responsibility but don't stump on us or brand us criminals and purveyors of evil and filth because of our B-Boy Stance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-113422254840902337?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/113422254840902337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=113422254840902337' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113422254840902337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113422254840902337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/12/b-boy-stance.html' title='B-Boy Stance'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-113422191878324804</id><published>2005-12-10T05:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-04T07:47:20.056-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Black Moves</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/1luq.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/1luq.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Black Moves&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My college chum, Moise Dent decided to challenge me to a game of chess. Little did he know that I'm strong with black. Therefore, I had to prove it to him, not with a lecture but with Black Moves. But to save you from a similar fate let me explain:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chess the brilliant contribution from the East is not only the noblest and most excellent of all games but finds itself between art and science thus it’s undeniably one of the greatest intellectual pursuits ever created. My oldest brother, Tony introduced me to this magnificent board game and I honed my skills and affection for it whilst working in juvenile corrections. Playing chess with the youth was not only a way of relearning the game, it was a way of connecting and sharing a part of me with them as well. It’s a game that does away with race, religion, age, gender or status. The game brought out latent qualities in these disenfranchised youth. Any game or thing can be used as a life lesson or a teaching moment. A good player can see four or five future moves of his opponent. Blacks move, Queen to A-1, Checkmate!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-113422191878324804?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/113422191878324804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=113422191878324804' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113422191878324804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113422191878324804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/12/black-moves.html' title='Black Moves'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-113133040976442124</id><published>2005-11-06T18:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-06T20:03:53.903-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Light Beauty</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/Flower.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/Flower.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Light Beauty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This poem was originally written for my grandmothers who recently passed away. We received a huge response from alot of you in the form of prayers and heartfelt encouragement. We'd therefore like to share this poem with you for any of your loved ones who have passed on. May you find in it solace and fond memories. This is for those of Beautiful Light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;i write a song&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;i write a song for you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;a song for all times&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;a song of ecstatic prayers&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;a song of infused love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;a song for you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;a song i know you'll hear&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;as your breathing nears its limits&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;it gives life to all&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;as we remember&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;your humanity&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;your dignity&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;your care&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;as we remember&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;your love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;your eyes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;your touch&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;your smile&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;though we're far apart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;hearts know no distance&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;so when i felt, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;you felt&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;when i smiled, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;you smiled&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;when i laughed, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;you laughed&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;when i cried, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;you cried&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and when i danced, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;you danced&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and when i sang, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;you sang&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and now we can sing this song that i write for you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;thousand miles apart&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;yet together&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;together&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;as one&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;with one beat of two hearts&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and as i look from a distance into your eyes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;i feel your love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and know that you know&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that we must carry-on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;with a different beat&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but with the same song&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;a song of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-113133040976442124?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/113133040976442124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=113133040976442124' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113133040976442124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113133040976442124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/11/light-beauty.html' title='Light Beauty'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-113107060091373770</id><published>2005-11-03T18:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T19:50:21.106-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Enter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/wadi%20bani%20kahlid%20village%20door%20bw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/wadi%20bani%20kahlid%20village%20door%20bw.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enter into the domain of gnosis and open your soul to the universe and let God unveil realities that are contained within you. Imprints encrypted in the heart waiting to be revealed so that true life can issue forth from the depths of our being. Bathing ourselves in the stream of repentance seeking forgiveness from the One who hears all supplicants and knows the depths of our petitions. Our cries, pains and insecurities are made calm by His answers to our requests. The door to God swings open with thankfulness and gratitude. Knock at the door of thankfulness and gratitude and you shall enter a realm of serenity and plenitude.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-113107060091373770?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/113107060091373770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=113107060091373770' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113107060091373770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113107060091373770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/11/enter.html' title='Enter'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-113107051235157430</id><published>2005-11-03T18:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-06T20:15:05.070-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Poem for the Prophet</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/Poem%20of%20the%20Prophet%20Pic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/Poem%20of%20the%20Prophet%20Pic.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poem for the Prophet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This poem was written in Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates at an event celebrating the birth of Prophet Muhammad. As many of you know I'm not fluent in Arabic. Whilst listening to the performers of Sacred Songs we tried to capture the breadth of these poetic lyrics. We began to jot down our experience and describe the atmosphere of the theatre. The inspiration goes to the men, women and children whose gentle spirit filled the room with sheer love and reverance. We'd also like to thank our gracious host in Abu Dhabi for inviting us to such a wonderful occasion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poem for the Prophet&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Born in a desert&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Son of Abdullah and Ameenah&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Known as Al-Ameen (The Truthful)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He is the Fountainhead of Islam&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He is the Spring of Iman (Faith)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He is the Tributary of Ihsan (Spiritual excellence)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He was an overwhelming ocean emerging from a desert oasis&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Who was deposited in the world to quench our thirst&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;To nourish our hearts with love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And to guide our souls to the truth&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;His fragrance has reached the balmy shores of New Guinea&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;To the polar icecaps of the Arctic&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He is the brilliant light that illuminated the world&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Shone brightly as the North Star on a calm night&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The perfect man whom God has blessed&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;With a blessing commensurate of His overflowing generosity&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And may He shower His blessings on all those who extol Muhammad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And enter them into His garden&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-113107051235157430?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/113107051235157430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=113107051235157430' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113107051235157430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113107051235157430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/11/poem-for-prophet.html' title='Poem for the Prophet'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-113107040920010799</id><published>2005-11-03T18:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-11T10:30:21.450-08:00</updated><title type='text'>An Arabian Odyssey</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/Road%20to%20Buraimi%20bw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/Road%20to%20Buraimi%20bw.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An Arabian Odyssey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wandering through the border towns of Al-Buraymi and Al ‘Ayn going from rocky tracks to date palms feeling so beautiful and tasting serenity. The road being my dear friend and always receiving me with a pleasant welcome full of boons and other wonderful little dainties. Opening her doors to me and proving once again that God has blessed the traveller with an abundance to partake in. The banquet table is forever full of the most voluptuous dishes and soothing drinks. Basking in the ambiance of this sumptuous meal and mood; only to have the road beckon me to continue my journey. Greeting my gracious host with a warm embrace, I bid farewell, until next time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-113107040920010799?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/113107040920010799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=113107040920010799' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113107040920010799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113107040920010799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/11/arabian-odyssey.html' title='An Arabian Odyssey'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-113107018582097637</id><published>2005-11-03T18:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T19:54:40.626-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Date Palms, Cliffs and Cool Waters</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/Winding%20road%20to%20Wadi%20Bani%20Khalid.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" height="320" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/Winding%20road%20to%20Wadi%20Bani%20Khalid.0.jpg" width="251" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date Palms, Cliffs and Coolwaters&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Riding offroad on rocky terrain along the beautiful coastline to Sur taking in some of the most splendid views while the sun began its ascent. Relaxing under palm trees at Wadi Tiwi desiring sweet water. Meeting proud Arabs living in cliff homes that provide them shade, protection and coolness. Their hospitality unmatched and directly connected to the final Prophet, from whom they derive their identity. Our rest gave us respite thus we resumed our trek until we came to Ras Al-Hadd, a haven for endangered turtles and allowed ourselves to enjoy the fragrant breezes and coolness of the sea. Arriving at Wadi Bin Khalid we walked through date palms which brought a calmness to the body and soul. Eating the date fruit resuscitates life and provides one with enough energy to sustain themselves from the stifling sun that evaporates everything it shines on. Visiting Muhammad’s friends we partake in a delicious lunch, a hike into the date palms looking at the beautiful rough cliffs and feeling the brilliance of the cool waters. Wadi Bin Khalid has done us well and we head for the Wahiba Sands, an expanse desert that has a stillness that is absorbed in the soul. As the sun begins to set we leave Wahiba Sands and take to the road and it’s smooth sailing all the way home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-113107018582097637?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/113107018582097637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=113107018582097637' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113107018582097637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113107018582097637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/11/date-palms-cliffs-and-cool-waters.html' title='Date Palms, Cliffs and Cool Waters'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-113041838086669011</id><published>2005-10-27T06:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-05T21:58:53.730-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Prophetic Silence</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/Salalah%20Mosque.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/Salalah%20Mosque.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prophetic Silence&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been said by the sages of times gone past, that in silence there are 7,000 great benefits. The prophets of old sought communication with their Lord and detachment from the material realm. When they spoke their words reached their target, the soul. Words that emanate from the heart are certain to enter the heart of those whose antennas can receive their signal. The Signs of God are evident everywhere we look. But the reception isn't always clear due to cacophonous reverberations that we allow to enter the precious realm known as our lives. This realization was so evident when I was honored to spend time with Prophet Job. In a world looking for a voice I turned to Job. Removed from the dissonance of the destructive city life, I entered the province of prophetic presence felt patience as well as the 7,000 great boons of silence.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-113041838086669011?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/113041838086669011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=113041838086669011' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113041838086669011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113041838086669011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/10/prophetic-silence.html' title='Prophetic Silence'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-113041824875838395</id><published>2005-10-27T06:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T20:08:10.423-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Extreme Games: Highway Cycling</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/Bicycles%20from%20the%20bronx.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/Bicycles%20from%20the%20bronx.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Extreme Games: Highway Cycling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Riding into a stream of lights along the Sultan Qaboos Highway in Muscat, Oman to the music of cars zooming in and out of lanes and the smell of freedom in the form of sweet fragrant flowers. With my new bike in tow, I decided to take a spin on the highway. Jumping onto the highway trying to find my place in the emergency lane and walkway reminded me of the time when my brother, Steve and I received our new bikes. We rode 12 strong minutes from B &amp;amp; K Bicycle Shop to Georgetown. I used to ride touring bikes and dabbled with the idea of being a tri-athlete. A tri-athlete is someone who ride bikes, runs and swims several miles in a grueling competition that test a persons resolve. My cycling days as a teenager almost led me to go to Europe to pursue a career in professional cycling. We'll save the details of that story for another occasion. I prefer to speak of my time in Marrakesh, Morocco when I displayed my deft skills of jumping curbs, dodging in and out of traffic, making the bike come to a standstill without having to put my feet on the ground at traffic lights and pumping the pedals until the bike became my instrument. For some this might not seem like much, but if you've ever been to an Arabic speaking country, you know the drivers can be deadly. New York cabbies have nothing on regular Arab drivers in Arab Lands. My friends Rasheed and Fu'ad thought I was majnoon (crazy) the way I handled the bike and traffic. They couldn't believe my laid-black style had suddenly changed when I took the reins of a bicycle. I still smile when I reflect on their faces after showing them how to ride strong. If you ever see me riding my bike at your car, be certain that I'm willing to "Pop a Willy" on your hood and "Burn a Lil Rubber" on your trunk. That highway ride brought black so many precious memories, but don't try these tricks at home, on a car, in traffic or on the highway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-113041824875838395?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/113041824875838395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=113041824875838395' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113041824875838395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113041824875838395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/10/extreme-games-highway-cycling.html' title='Extreme Games: Highway Cycling'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-113041801312408985</id><published>2005-10-27T05:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T20:08:40.783-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Desert Rose</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/desert%20flower.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/desert%20flower.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desert Rose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beauty never escapes the eye of one who is seeking her,&lt;br /&gt;Desert Rose.&lt;br /&gt;How beautiful thou art,&lt;br /&gt;Delicate in a desolate land.&lt;br /&gt;Hold me close to you,&lt;br /&gt;Comfort me.&lt;br /&gt;I blossom as I become intertwined with you,&lt;br /&gt;Feeling enraptured in your warmth,&lt;br /&gt;Seeking only to share with you the joys and the sorrows.&lt;br /&gt;You know me as only you could,&lt;br /&gt;As I open my breast to you.&lt;br /&gt;You cleanse my soul and behold, I am a new man.&lt;br /&gt;Desert Rose,&lt;br /&gt;I love you!&lt;br /&gt;Whether, you're a rose or not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-113041801312408985?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/113041801312408985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=113041801312408985' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113041801312408985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113041801312408985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/10/desert-rose.html' title='Desert Rose'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-113041793871379241</id><published>2005-10-27T05:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T20:09:04.006-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunset</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/rough%20sunset.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/rough%20sunset.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secrets of Sunset&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunset is one of the signs for humankind to reflect upon. Some look at the setting as the beginning of a brand new day. The setting moves one from light to darkness. In this absence of light one can find quietude, peace and illumination. The tranquility that is found in these moments are therapeutic and rejuvenating. The sunset is also symbolic of stillness, lassitude and finality yet it gives way to the day which is representational of change, vibrancy and life. The night is a veil and in it are many secrets for the seekers, who eagerly await her setting. They watch the horizons keeping in rhythm with the divine moments. In this obscurity they find the jewels, for they have understood and penetrated the depths of anonimity only to come into the light feeling refreshed, pleased and with full prominence.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-113041793871379241?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/113041793871379241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=113041793871379241' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113041793871379241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/113041793871379241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/10/sunset.html' title='Sunset'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-112505684730226480</id><published>2005-08-26T04:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T20:09:34.156-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Imprints</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/bwfootsand.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/bwfootsand.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imprints&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the sea gently erases the imprints in the sand, what is left? What is left are those gentle kindnesses that we grace each particle of this universe with. Be it a smile, a kindly word or simple pleasantries; it won't be forgotten! Each encounter leaves its imprints. In our journey through life we are constantly leaving imprints on each being we come in contact with. When the terrestrial journey comes to an end our hope is for the celestial journey. Our encounters will play themselves forward and it'll be monumental for us or utterly disastrous. No one knows one's end and can not take the liberty of presuming to know their station with Him. Him has informed us through His divine messages that every soul is sacred, every breath is precious, every moment is beautiful and every reflection is a direction towards heavenly aims. Indeed our time on earth will slowly come to an end, therefore let us leave beautiful imprints in the sand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-112505684730226480?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/112505684730226480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=112505684730226480' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112505684730226480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112505684730226480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/08/imprints.html' title='Imprints'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-112505672313068588</id><published>2005-08-26T04:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T20:10:19.056-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Return of Ibn Blacktuta</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/bwnizwathrudoor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/bwnizwathrudoor.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Return of Ibn Blacktuta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since November of 2004, I've travelled to 6 countries most of them repeat visits. But prior journeys have taken me to faraway destinations therefore let us begin where it all started. Cruised over to Canada thinking to dive from the top of Niagara Falls. In Jolly Ole England I didn't meet Big Ben nor did I have tea with the Queen but had a chance to see The Beatles. Then off to Arabia, to the Holy City of Mecca to follow in the footsteps of Abraham, Moses, Jesus and Muhammad and other noble men and women. Off to Egypt to see if I could Dance Like An Egyptian. More or less I did the camel walk like James into the Pyramids. Morocco is and was more than Casablanca with Bogart. Didn't find Rocky or Bullwinkle either. Walking through the blackstreets of southern Spain until I found myself in the magnificient Alhambra only to find it was no longer my home, someone had bought it. Jetting off to Korea to wander through The Secret Gardens with Quincy Jones whilst face-to-face with North Korean soliders in the DMZ. Dancing in Australia with The Three Sisters in The Blue Mountain to the rhythm of kangaroos and koala bears singing "Who Can It Be Now?" Stopping off in Japan just long enough to say hi, bye and see you next time. Stopped off in Germany to say hello to Falco and sing "Rock me Amadeus." Off to The Netherlands only to find Jay Z teaching them bout Roc-A-Fella in Amsterdam. Found John Lennon and Sean Connery in Gibraltar and wannabe Bobby Fischers. Stopped in the U.A.E. so you'd know me. It was so much bling bling that 50 lost his Cents and Destiny had a Child. There was Venus and Serena but I was more interested in hanging out with Elvis and singing "Viva Las Vegas" whilst wearing the most hideous rhinestones in a one-piece white tight-fitting bellbottomed outfit. Out in Oman looking for Sinbad and chasing Muskrats in Muscat. Well, I'm black home just in time for BET's Comic View.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-112505672313068588?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/112505672313068588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=112505672313068588' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112505672313068588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112505672313068588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/08/return-of-ibn-blacktuta.html' title='The Return of Ibn Blacktuta'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-112505667013263002</id><published>2005-08-26T04:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-06T20:20:52.286-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Manifestation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/Manifestation%20Pic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/Manifestation%20Pic.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Manifestation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Days come and go with little thought of the miracles that we witness everyday. These phenonemon impact our psyche on many levels but for those who follow the subtle and not so subtle realities they instill us with the gift of life and the passion is evident on our countenance like the brilliance of the moon on the horizon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Manifestation&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Divine Manifestations,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Reflected Light.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When darkness spreads,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The moon illuminates.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Signs within signs,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Casting indeliable marks on the sea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The marine life feeling its presence,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Permeating the depths of the ocean.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The earth consuming its moisture through refracted light,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Giving life to all around her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Manifestations manifested,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;In opposites and similarities.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-112505667013263002?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/112505667013263002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=112505667013263002' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112505667013263002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112505667013263002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/08/manifestation.html' title='Manifestation'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-112505660325974157</id><published>2005-08-26T04:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T20:12:41.396-08:00</updated><title type='text'>An Ode to Yesterday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/bwibntulun.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/bwibntulun.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An Ode to Yesterday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ancients have given us so much to reflect upon. Whether it was their beautiful architectural structural, their opulent places of worship, their elaborate gardens or their killing fields, their barbaric atrocities or their inhumane humanness they left lessons for us to build on. We reflect on yesterday in order to make sense of the present and chart a way for the future. Yesterday, we immortalize, the present we condemn and the future we relinquish due to the fact that we've allowed ourselves to live in an illusory past. Yesterday brings forth a beautiful song deep with love and conviction. It sings its song waiting for us to harmonize with her and carry her song to future generations who will add their own nuances to a beautiful tune that she calls The Present.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-112505660325974157?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/112505660325974157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=112505660325974157' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112505660325974157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112505660325974157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/08/ode-to-yesterday.html' title='An Ode to Yesterday'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-112505579500014004</id><published>2005-08-26T04:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T20:13:18.213-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey! Lil Fella</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/bwlil%20one.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/bwlil%20one.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey! Lil Fella&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lil Fella, it's your beautiful smile and your hope for tomorrow that obliges me to give my all to make sure your tomorrow is better than today. To make sure that your future is brighter than mine. I pray that I will never let you down or have you wondering what did I do with my time on Earth. I love you Lil Fella for all the good things you inspire in me, how your smile often propels me to make the impossible possible. Without you Lil Fella and the other Lil Fella's and Fella-ettes, this world would cease to exist in any meaningful way. Because in you God has placed a light that has burned out in most of us. You still believe and because of that I still achieve. Lil Fella, thanks for lighting my heart and giving direction to my life .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-112505579500014004?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/112505579500014004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=112505579500014004' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112505579500014004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112505579500014004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/08/hey-lil-fella.html' title='Hey! Lil Fella'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-112428631679270009</id><published>2005-08-17T06:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T20:15:00.210-08:00</updated><title type='text'>From St. Clair to Sur</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/bwSur%20Yeah.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/bwSur%20Yeah.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From St. Clair to Sur&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look yall, I made it out of da ghetto. At least that's what some would like us to believe. Ghetto is a Yiddish word and was in reference to where Jews were forced to live. Therefore, how can we ever be ghetto as we're not Jewish and don't speak Yiddish though we might speak gibberish. Words convey meaning and each name carries with it some of its attribute. Therefore, take to good names. At the same time we must also create a good atmosphere. Somehow we have forgotten this and have attached monikers that are poisonous to the soul, destructive to the mind and deadly to the body. We didn't create these appellations for ourselves but somehow we've come to take them as terms of endearment. We must remember as one of my dear friends who's like a brother often commented, "We were never meant to get off the plantation alive." We've survived and now we must share this story with the universe. Each step I take is as if I'm taking a step with Harriet Tubman. It's as if I'm following a Sojourner for Truth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-112428631679270009?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/112428631679270009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=112428631679270009' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112428631679270009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112428631679270009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/08/from-st-clair-to-sur.html' title='From St. Clair to Sur'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-112428626189681962</id><published>2005-08-17T06:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T20:16:32.580-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ways of Ascent</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/bwSur%20Stairs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/bwSur%20Stairs.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ways of Ascent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Staircase to Heaven has always preoccupied humankind. The ancients and modernists ask, "Is it deeds or belief that gets one to Paradise?" It is neither, it is the sheer mercy of God that does. What is belief without action? What is a good deed without sincerity? Surely God decided to communicate with humankind and left an immutable book which is called the Koran as His last message. If you open this book to Chapter 70 you can read "The Ways of Ascent." If you seek to see the Face of God then read Chapter 19 entitled "Mary" in the Koran. Life is short but Paradise and Hell are eternal. Therefore you owe it to yourself to know the Ways to Ascent. Each step draws us nearer to our reckoning, which can not be put off. Take one step to God and He will come to you with speed and watch yourself ascend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-112428626189681962?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/112428626189681962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=112428626189681962' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112428626189681962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112428626189681962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/08/ways-of-ascent.html' title='Ways of Ascent'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-112428617466875294</id><published>2005-08-17T06:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T20:18:17.703-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pre-Lexus Coupe</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/bwlqcamel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/bwlqcamel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pre-Lexus Coupe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Camels are fascinating creatures. They're beautiful, elegant, funny and surprisingly huge. Camels have been used for transportation long before the introduction of a Lexus Coupe. If you give a camel proper rest, food and water it will go farther and last longer than a Lexus Coupe and be better for the environment. In ancient times camels were used to transport spices, frankencinse, myrrh and other important goods. People eat camel's meat, drink its milk, use it for shade and use it's wool and hide. Camels to the Bedouwins are known as "God's Gift" partly due to its many benefits; one of which is its enduring patience. Wonder if you can get all of this from a Lexus Coupe?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-112428617466875294?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/112428617466875294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=112428617466875294' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112428617466875294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112428617466875294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/08/pre-lexus-coupe.html' title='Pre-Lexus Coupe'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-112420524334807802</id><published>2005-08-16T08:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T20:19:47.953-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Midnight at the Oasis</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/bwWahiba%20Sands.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/400/bwWahiba%20Sands.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Midnight at the Oasis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Motoring offroad in Oman with Muhammad in a Toyota Landcruiser passing by splendid seashores, wonderful waterfalls, vacant valleys, magnificent mountains, cascading cliffs, and luscious lagoons we found ourselves in The Wahiba Sands. It was around the time of sunset so I ran up a dune which had to be about 50 feet or more trying to see the sun set. Once reaching the top I realized that the sun had disappeared behind other dunes which were much higher and farther away. Being in the desert you realize many things about the allure of it. The beautiful ripples, the subtle shades, and the gentle softness of its texture. There is a solitude that calls the soul to feel harmony, the heart to feel each moment softly resonate deeply within its innermost sanctuary and the mind to feel the quietude that gives the mind pure serenity. Feel the slight breeze around Midnight at the Oasis as it lightly covers you and then transports you to the dunes where you watch the horizons and feel the Divine Presence. At this moment you leave the terrestrial for the celestials.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-112420524334807802?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/112420524334807802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=112420524334807802' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112420524334807802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112420524334807802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/08/midnight-at-oasis.html' title='Midnight at the Oasis'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-112420520698035379</id><published>2005-08-16T08:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T20:31:02.646-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Return of the Jedi</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/bwlqpyramids.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/400/bwlqpyramids.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Return of the Jedi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was an astonishing return to the ancient city of Cairo. The land that felt the beautiful presence of luminaries such as the blessed prophets, Moses and Joseph. There is no prophet mentioned more in the Koran than Moses and no story more beautiful than that of Joseph's. To be able to have been here with my mother and step-father was fascinating and utterly astonishing. Being in Egypt wasn't a part of their itinerary but it was a part of God's itinerary. To see the beaming smiles on their faces and the light in their hearts was almost more than anything one could ask for. It was their dream to come to Egypt and ride camels, see the sphinx and come face-to-face with the pyramids. But it is my dream that they be blessed to come to the House of God in Mecca and perform the pilgrimage with me, insha Allah (God willing). To follow in the illustrious footsteps of all the noble prophets from Adam to Noah to Abraham to Moses to David to Jesus and to Muhammad who answered the noble call to the House of God and said, "Here I am O God! Here I am!" These are Jedi visions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-112420520698035379?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/112420520698035379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=112420520698035379' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112420520698035379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112420520698035379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/08/return-of-jedi.html' title='Return of the Jedi'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-112420510681212027</id><published>2005-08-16T08:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T20:31:28.876-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reconnection</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/bwsphinx.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/400/bwsphinx.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reconnection&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember my first trip outside of Ohio was to Niagara Falls, Canada and that was via bus with my family. My stepfather took my brother and I to Atlanta, Georgia and it was the first time that we'd been on a plane. I'll never forget it because we met the Los Angeles Dodgers and a rookie pitcher named Steve Howe, who was so kind to my brother and I. It was also memorable because we stayed at the Hyatt Regency. We also stayed at the Hilton, where the Dodgers were staying. Furthermore it was memorable because my brother and I walked home from Fulton County Stadium in order to save our vacation money but unbeknownst to us the Atlanta child murders were taking place then. The Atlanta child murders were the murders of young black males. No one approached us or bothered us, the times we walked black from the baseball games. I'm moving black in time reflecting, reconnecting and resurrecting memories and days gone by. I felt that my parents and I had somehow reconnected on a level that we had never experienced. It's not only lovers who grow apart, but families do too. I believe this visit brought us all closer together. Even though, my other siblings weren't with us physically, it is my wholehearted belief, that the bedrock of the family, my stepfather and mother inspired in them a feeling and need for reconnection. Our memories can be resevoirs and can unlock the vaults that hold all the treasures to reconnect.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-112420510681212027?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/112420510681212027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=112420510681212027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112420510681212027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112420510681212027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/08/reconnection.html' title='Reconnection'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-112420387664923526</id><published>2005-08-16T07:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T20:31:57.066-08:00</updated><title type='text'>For 2pac</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/bwlqdubai.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/400/bwlqdubai.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For 2pac&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You look at the blackground of this photo and you think it's New York. Babyboy, it's Dubai. New York ain't the only one that glitters and has skyscrapers, picketpockets and panhandlers. It ain't me against the world. It's me against the slinking whisperer who whispers into my ear and heart trying to distort my soul. My mom told me early on and I ain't never forgotten it, "Choose your friends wisely." What is a friend? Well, one aspect of a friend is someone who will tell you something you want to hear and something you don't want to hear. A friend looks out for your best interest. Sometimes he does it gently and other times harshly, depending on what he feel is needed. 2pac is still loved be it in Cali, Cleveland, Morocco, Saudi Arabia, Japan, Australia, France, Spain, Korea, Russia, Sweden, Oman etc. Wherever I go and when I meet the youth, I ask them, "Do you like Pac?" They all reply in whatever accent, "We love Pac!" Pac, it was never you against the world. Yes, the world is pregnant with hate and blame is its afterbirth. But you were a bright son. You were a courageous voice. You were our conscience and lack of manhood. You spoke and sometimes we were repelled by you. We didn't try to understand you, we simply branded you a mixed up soul. But what did we do to help you because you didn't have to bear it all. We didn't listen to your cries. You and Biggie battling over what? One man taking shots at another, for what? For who? Masculinity needs identity in order to have empathy. We, who call ourselves men looked from a distance and didn't show you how to go the distance. If we would've listened to you, maybe we could've intervened but I guess Biggie summed it all up, "Give me one more chance."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Next time you see a soul who looks confused grab a hold of him and this is how we can give 2pac or Biggie one more chance)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-112420387664923526?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/112420387664923526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=112420387664923526' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112420387664923526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112420387664923526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/08/for-2pac.html' title='For 2pac'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-112420370987011075</id><published>2005-08-16T07:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-29T11:00:13.870-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Light of My Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/bwLightMomma.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/400/bwLightMomma.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Light of My Life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What can a person say about their mother? Would any words suffice. The Prophet was asked who is to be given preference? He responded by saying, "The mother." He was then asked who after her? And he responded, "The mother." The questioner then asked him who after that? And he responded for the third time, "The mother." And the questioner said whom after that? And he responded, "The father." What can be of greater testimony to the position of the woman in the universe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Light of My Life&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dear Momma, what can't I say about you?&lt;br /&gt;I can say it's your smile, it's your words,&lt;br /&gt;it's your embrace, it's your soft gentle face.&lt;br /&gt;It's your love that keeps me going.&lt;br /&gt;I've seen you from the inside out,&lt;br /&gt;So I definitely know what I'm talking about.&lt;br /&gt;I've seen the good times and the bad.&lt;br /&gt;Seen you happy and seen you sad.&lt;br /&gt;Made me tear up to see you this way,&lt;br /&gt;But through it all you've remained graceful to this day.&lt;br /&gt;I don't usually rhyme when I do poetry,&lt;br /&gt;But when I think of you it just flows through me.&lt;br /&gt;I can talk about you until ain't no more words left,&lt;br /&gt;And I can still keep talking even if I'm out of breath.&lt;br /&gt;I've been freestyling cause the style is free,&lt;br /&gt;But ain't nothing that can separate you from me.&lt;br /&gt;I'll hold you, deep in my arms,&lt;br /&gt;Used to tell the girls no need for alarm.&lt;br /&gt;Cause she's my momma and my honey&lt;br /&gt;And she's the one that makes my world sunny.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I've even had to tell my wife,&lt;br /&gt;Precious girl, I love you but she's the light of my Life.&lt;br /&gt;I see God shining down on you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-112420370987011075?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/112420370987011075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=112420370987011075' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112420370987011075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112420370987011075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/08/light-of-my-life.html' title='Light of My Life'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-112420364654237465</id><published>2005-08-16T07:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T20:32:50.886-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gratitude</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/bwNizwaprayer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/400/bwNizwaprayer.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gratitude&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The manner of the prophets is the realm of gratitude. It's a thankfulness for the gift of life. It's a path without ulterior motives. It's a way of piercing insight, deep reflection and continuous contemplation. We're so preoccupied with what we think we need when He is The Best of Providers, The Most Generous and The One who Sustains and Nourishes. We should turn to Him with praise and thankfulness out of humility, this is gratitude.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-112420364654237465?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/112420364654237465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=112420364654237465' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112420364654237465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112420364654237465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/08/gratitude.html' title='Gratitude'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-112143770280099413</id><published>2005-07-15T07:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-07T22:04:35.103-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Divine Meditations</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/Divine%20Meditations%20Pic.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/Divine%20Meditations%20Pic.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Divine Meditations&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Humans are composed mostly of water as is the universe. In this knowledge there is much to be reflected upon. Water is a property that possesses calm as well as strength. If one would meditate on these opposites one would become closer to That which created both. With the constant reflection and remembrance one has the possibility of feeling the power and calm of the Divine and being immersed in serenity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-112143770280099413?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/112143770280099413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=112143770280099413' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112143770280099413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112143770280099413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/07/divine-meditations.html' title='Divine Meditations'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-112143764803441811</id><published>2005-07-15T07:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T20:34:00.663-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Space and Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/lqsunraysbw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/400/lqsunraysbw.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Space and Time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When people gather to remember their Creator one finds not only peace but their hearts are drawn together and the Divine Light can be experienced. It is moments like this when space and time seem to stand still and all in creation seem unimportant.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-112143764803441811?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/112143764803441811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=112143764803441811' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112143764803441811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112143764803441811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/07/space-and-time.html' title='Space and Time'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-112143756145588520</id><published>2005-07-15T07:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T20:35:12.283-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Giant Steps</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/lqstairsbw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/400/lqstairsbw.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Giant Steps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The great jazz master John Coltrane knew about Giant Steps. Life is a series of steps. Initially the first step seems inconsequential until the soul reflects and recalls what propelled them to begin the journey. If a soul were to take an interest in the initial stages of any beneficial journey one would find A Love Supreme at the end of this path.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-112143756145588520?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/112143756145588520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=112143756145588520' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112143756145588520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112143756145588520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/07/giant-steps.html' title='Giant Steps'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-112143737318821299</id><published>2005-07-15T07:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-07T01:45:25.436-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Imprints and Impressions</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/Imprints%20and%20Impressions%20Pic.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/Imprints%20and%20Impressions%20Pic.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imprints and Impressions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The journey is long and the road is rough but it is full of boons for the one who is content with what his Lord has provided for him. He sees God´s imprints and impressions in everything he comes in contact with. He knows that his journey had a beginning and he knows it has an ending and none greater than being in the good pleasure of his Lord. These imprints and impressions are left on his heart until his soul reverberates with this understanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-112143737318821299?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/112143737318821299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=112143737318821299' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112143737318821299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112143737318821299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/07/imprints-and-impressions.html' title='Imprints and Impressions'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-112143715436490873</id><published>2005-07-15T07:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-01-07T01:57:20.246-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflections Reflected</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/Reflections%20Reflected%20Pic.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/Reflections%20Reflected%20Pic.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reflections Reflected&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life is reflections reflected. Travelling blackwards has allowed me to reconnect with those moments that have transformed me into Ibn Blacktuta, the new age wayfarer. Imprint a soul and life will unfold itself to you. Life wants us to take a course that is based on sharing, love, gentleness, struggle and self-examination. When we can recollect our bravery, our fears, our achievements, our failures then life becomes fuller. When we decide to feast on this buffet of life experiences then not only are our lives enriched but all of those who we come in contact with. I´ve reflected on all of you and thank you for enriching my life.Love,Ibn Blacktuta&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-112143715436490873?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/112143715436490873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=112143715436490873' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112143715436490873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/112143715436490873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/07/reflections-reflected.html' title='Reflections Reflected'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-111739930661868760</id><published>2005-05-29T13:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T20:38:22.363-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Matrix</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/1600/lqgrandmosquebw2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1859/945/320/lqgrandmosquebw2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Matrix&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is One God and Muhammad is the seal of prophethood and messengership. This recognition allows one to see through the labyrinth. But it is not merely uttering these words, nor is it believing them in the heart that allows one to behold this vision. It is exemplifying this belief on the limbs through knowledge, service, good deeds and other acts of kindness that allows one to see through the matrix. Our call is to the highest reality, not to man, race, nation, tribe, ideology etc. It is a call with the hope that we meet in the Abode of Ultimate Peace. Do you know what it means to believe? It is when you don't want one soul to enter into the Fires of Hell. &lt;a href="http://www.hello.com/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" alt="Posted by Hello" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif" align="absMiddle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-111739930661868760?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/111739930661868760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=111739930661868760' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/111739930661868760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/111739930661868760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/05/matrix.html' title='The Matrix'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-111739760094950687</id><published>2005-05-29T13:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T20:38:52.016-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Echoes in the Sand</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/290/4360/640/Footprint1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 1px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 1px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/290/4360/320/Footprint1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Echoes in the Sand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The footprint represents the old adage, "one step at a time." Each journey begins with one step. If we can apply this to our lives we would see miracles almost on a daily basis. Also, the sand is a combination of colors. If we look at sand it seems to look as if it's one color but in fact if we were to sift through the sand we would find a myriad of colors. This is similar to humankind. We all emanate from Adam and Eve yet we often forget this primal truth; we are all made up of the same matter just in different shapes, colors and sizes just like grains of sand. Finally the footprint's pattern illustrates to us that we all make imprints in life. And these imprints are echoes in the sand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.hello.com/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" alt="Posted by Hello" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif" align="absMiddle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-111739760094950687?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/111739760094950687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=111739760094950687' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/111739760094950687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/111739760094950687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/05/echoes-in-sand.html' title='Echoes in the Sand'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-111186038068390440</id><published>2005-03-26T10:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T20:39:22.566-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sea Walker</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/290/4360/640/seawalker1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 1px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 1px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/290/4360/320/seawalker1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sea Walker&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gentle currents reminiscent of Miles on Stella by Starlight keep calling me. The crescendos of waves with the thump of a Coltrane keep calling me. The fragrant breezes rising like Billie keep calling me. The gravelly voice of Satchmo keep calling me. And the light touches of brilliance by Art Blakey on drums keep calling me. Therapeutic music made by the sea. As the sun sets and the moon slowly reveals its bright glow I seek to find solace in the natural beauty of the symphony of serenity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-111186038068390440?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/111186038068390440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=111186038068390440' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/111186038068390440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/111186038068390440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/03/sea-walker.html' title='Sea Walker'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-111186009784443669</id><published>2005-03-26T10:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T20:40:02.926-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Travelling</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/290/4360/640/blackwards31.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 1px solid; MARGIN: 2px; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 1px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 1px solid" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/img/290/4360/320/blackwards31.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Travelling &lt;a href="http://www.hello.com/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" alt="Posted by Hello" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif" align="absMiddle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we begin any journey the last thing our loved ones see are our backs. This is the state of affairs as we embark on our sojourn. Our backs are to them but our hearts are turned towards them. Thus our hearts remain fixed on them in whatever direction we turn. The travelling only increases the intensity and passion towards our loved ones. And upon returning from our excursions we turn our backs on the mountains, valleys, winding roads, rivers and creeks and turn our faces towards our loved ones.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-111186009784443669?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/111186009784443669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=111186009784443669' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/111186009784443669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/111186009784443669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/03/travelling.html' title='Travelling'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11573353.post-111131162728866178</id><published>2005-03-20T01:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-20T05:56:10.936-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Travelling Blackwards</title><content type='html'>Dear Everyone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Travelling Blackwards is a work in progress or rather a work in regress. Travelling Blackwards is a glimpse of my reflections and projections in time: past, present and future. Take a step black in time, when I was a b-boy partially defined by a rhyme. Or travel onwards and see where this journey will take you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost all photographs by Zahrah Habibullah for Souk Collective: &lt;a href="http://www.soukcollective.com"&gt;http://www.soukcollective.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Art Direction by Luqman Williams&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11573353-111131162728866178?l=travellingblackwards.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/feeds/111131162728866178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11573353&amp;postID=111131162728866178' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/111131162728866178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11573353/posts/default/111131162728866178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travellingblackwards.blogspot.com/2005/03/travelling-blackwards.html' title='Travelling Blackwards'/><author><name>travelling blackwards</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02307705800430884837</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry></feed>
