BORN DYING
By
Rufus West a/k/a Muslim Mansa Lutalo lyapo; June 3, 2017
In 1998, Scarface asked me, "A baby's born and
you hear mom's crying; is she crying because she's happy or the fact she know
she's born dying?" As a father I never forgot that question. Until the
murder of my son, Richard West Gray, on June 3, 2016, it really was just a statement
of reference. The term “born dying" takes on a deeper meaning when a parent's
child is murdered. Otherwise, it's like a heartbeat or breathing. How often do
we focus on our heartbeat or breathing? How long would we maintain that focus?
The truth that every person who is born will die
seems to be a reality that we have managed somewhat to repudiate until it
happens to one of our children. I say "somewhat" because there's
something in a parent's nature that feels the need to protect their child from
harm. I remember sending Richard an April 2, 2012 Time magazine article by a
columnist named Toure titled, "How to Stay Alive While Being Black: In the
wake of the fatal shooting of Trayvon Martin, some advice for young black
boys." The article stressed eight points on how that population should
handle themselves so that they don't end up like Trayvon Martin: the
17-year-old African American boy who was murdered by a White man. When I sent
it to Richard, my concern for Richard's safety was that he would be harmed by a
White person or the police. Even though Richard's murderer has yet to be caught,
it's safe to say that my son was not murdered under circumstances like Trayvon
Martin, Mike Brown, Tamir Rice, Eric Garner, Emmett Till, etc As an African
American father, the incessant-murdering of young-African American males in
America is a constant reminder that my children will likely be victimized by
that reality, which unfortunately hit home with Richard being murdered.
Even though it's been a year since Richard was
murdered, today I was revisited by the shocking pain from having a huge chunk
of my heart being violently ripped out, leaving this gaping hole in my being.
My tears flow but fall short of filling this oceanic pain that has no shores.
After a year I thought that l would be past shedding tears, but my sister
warmly advised me, "Don't do that to yourself." Meaning, don't rush
the so-called healing process. After reflecting, if I were to gauge my
"healing" progress I would have to admit that I'm still in the ICU
holding on by a single thread, i.e., Islam.
While I always knew that the price for life is
death, there's nothing in existence that could have possibly prepared me for
this experience.
THERE'S NOTHING IN EXISTENCE THAT COULD HAVE
POSSIBLY PREPARED ME FOR THIS EXPERIENCE!
Salaam!
Rufus
West, #225213
a/k/a
Muslim Mansa Lutalo lyapo
P.
0. Box 19033 (GBCI)
Green
Bay, Wi 54307
Bismillah ir Rahman ir Rahim. Al-Hamduljllah.
HAIL MARY by Rufus West a/k/a Muslim
Mansa Lutalo Iyapo. June 8. 2018
'Take me with you! There, I said it and, quite frankly, it
felt liberating actually saying it. Take me with you! The only thing
inappropriate about me saying this to you now is that I(for some reason) didn’t
say it to you earlier.
You need to take me with you because you know in the core of
your heart that I don't belong here. You are my star witness to the impressive
tactics being used against me to keep me in prison which is testing my Breaking Point. Because I have always
been myself, I have to say with confidence that you've never imagined (nor met)
someone like me. I know that I 've never met anyone like you.
You need to take me with you because I've never sang to
anyone let alone a rap song, but you. You are also the only person whose growling
stomach could lighten one of my dark moments.
You need to take me with you because had I known that it
would end like this I would have NEVER taken my Brother's advice and asked to
see you. While i admire you abiding by the Law of Self Preservation, I only ask
that you see that this is me aiding by that same Law. I can envsion
you saying with smile "Well,. I can't take you with me," while wrestling
with something within you asking yourself,."Why not?"For every good
reason you come up with why you shouldn't, you know deep down that there's also
a BETTER reason for why you NEED to. I'm not some baton that can be passed on
to someone.' I'm the human being-on the operating table whose doctor is
preparing to abandon her patient on the operating table in the middle of an operation.
Everyone like you. Has abused and misused me for decades solely to justify
their existence.-Then you came along and over a period of years convinced me
that you're not like everyone else. and that it's safe:to trust being in your
hands because they were better than All State.
Take me with you because you fill a void in my existence
that I never knew existed until you filled it.
You’re the first person I ever trusted that didn't like or
dislike. What I mean by -that is that for some reason I'm unable to determine
e=whether I like you or not, yet I t rust you. To me, the emotion of liking you
is irrelevant as you are a possessor of a certain '8kill-set' that no one else
has that has contributed to my survival.
A while ago I attempted to sever my ties with you out of
concern that you would somehow hurt me. Well, that didn't work because the moment
you called for me it made me happy that someone made an effort to reach out to spend
time with me just to see how I was doing.
It was then that l asked you-to never hurt me ...and you agreed. Well, just the
thought of being forced to be alone in this regard is frightening, yet all of
my being supports you to do what's best for you and your loved ones. I would
never want you to do anything out of guilt because those decisions usually end
in regret. Just always fill your heart and let the words "1 love you"
be the last words your loved ones hear from you ESPECIALLY your kids because you'll
never know; .whether that last time 'will be THE last time.
Well,
it up in the air now and I have absolutely no idea where it
will land ... God willing in your hands. There's an old saying that gièS,
"A fair exchange ain’t never been no Robbery, ”as such if for no other
reason I ask you to take me with because
I’m forced to take you with me.
Bismillah ir Rahman it Rahim. Al-Hamdulillah.
“SHERO" by Rufus West a/k/a Muslim Mansa Lutalo
lyapo 6/4/18
Just a silhouette. Sometimes an amorphous human glow in the
darkness of my mind. No face, no figure, but undeniably
female and wearing a cape.
A figment of my imagination? Perhaps. It's difficult to discern
between what's real and imagined when you show up to rescue me from under the
innumerable layers of trauma that endeavor to suffocate me.
Sometimes all you have to do is just make an appearance to jumpstart
my resolve.
The sunlight through the stained glass window now has a dark
silhouette bringing energy to whatever is lacking. In you do I realize my strength
realized which shouldn't come as no surprise as it is in the strength of your
womb where l materialized; wherein you carried me for months until you were
unable to carry me anymore, yet provided me with what you felt I needed to
carry on.
Your-cape-absorbs years of tears like a single drop.
Sometimes when I'm at my lowest I look up and wonder,
"How did you get way down here?" Present long enough only to jumpstart
my resolve and then you're gone again ... to save somebody else, maybe even
yourself. .
No, 1 don't believe in superheroes. I only believe that
you're my "shero." .
Salaam!
Rufus West 335312
AKA
Muslim Mansa Lutalo Iyapo
Po Box 19033
Green Bay, WI 54307
Bismillah ir Rahman
ir Rahim. Al-Hamduljllah.
W.O.M.B. : What Our Mothers Bear
by
Rufus West a/k/a Muslim
Mansa Lutalo lyapo
June 13, 2018
What Our Mothers Bear is the responsibility for the existence of humanity's past, present and future.
Every human being has spent months being shaped within their mother’s sweet suite
before being born into this world. Males will never be equipped with what our
mothers bear-equipped with What Our Mothers Bear –Only females.
What Our Mothers Bear is the incredulity of males
designating a single day for treating though mothers special,even though
mothers deserve to be treated special every day of the year.
What Our Mothers Bear is the replacement of names like "woman,"
"queen," "lady," "ma'am," "m her," etc.
with names like "bitch," "jumpdown," "ho,"
"slut," "tramp," "whore," etc. They went from
being worthy of protection to being targets of severe dejection.
What Our Mothers Bear is the acceptance that their bodies
will grow in order to accommodate the humanity growing within them. It doesn't
reject humanity because of skin complexion or gender.
What Our Mothers Bear is the full weight of carrying humanity
around-inside - of them not for just nine months but for the rest of their
lives. I recall a wife telling her complaining husband that her breasts sag
because they're "working breasts," meaning for breast-feeding their
children. She then looked him over and asked him "What's your
excuse?"
It is in His Perfect Universal Order lies the axiom that the
continuum of humanity's existence is contingent upon the beautiful Blessing of What Our Mothers bear.
Without the existence of YOU there is no legacy of humanity before me or future
ahead of me. It is within the beauty of YOU where my physical makeup and
intellect formed befor you pushed me into this world.
What Our Mothers Bear is the luxurious freedom of unconditional LOVE
manifested in the incessant reproduction
of humanity who have repaid her with misogyny, disrespect, misuse and
abuse on a scale unimaginable. But imagine, if you will, what would happen if
What Our Mothers Bear stopped beariig. Until we are able to imagine this as a people
in pursuit of gender equality the results will always be unequal.
My name is Rufus West a/k/a Muslm Mansa Lutalo lyapo and I
approve this message.
Salaam!
Rufus west, #225213
a/k/a
Muslim Mansa Lutalo iyapo
P.O. Box 19033
Green Bay, WI 54307
Bismillah ir Rahinan
ir Rahim. Al-Hamdulillah
SUICIDAL CHECKMATE
Rufus West a/k/a/ Muslim Mansa Lutalo Iyapo 6/3/18
If anyone tells you they have experience in dying - they're
lying. The permanence associated with the physical death is an axiom that
leaves no room for dispute. When it's time to die, everyone who is living will
die. This physical human form that we've invested so much in will rot away and
be food for something. I believe that it's not when we die that's important,
but how we die.
I believe that I'm prohibited from committing suicide and
that a person who commits suicide will be committing the same suicidal act in
perpetuity in the next life after being-brought back to life over and over
again in a never-ending cycle as punishment.
CHECKMATE!
I believe that I owe the very few people I love a sense of
responsibility that I will never do anything to hurt them. These are the people
who I would be devastated if they died - especially via suicide which would add
the feeling of that person betraying our friendship. I owe the same sense of
responsibility to certain people with who I feel more than just a casual connection.
CHECKMATE!!
.1 believe that as long as I utilize His Spiritual Laws to
enjoin the right and forbid the wrong in
my, heart that I will make the world a better place to live. However, the pain,
from the murder of my son., Richard West-Gray, makes it unbearable to the point where I feel like the
only way out is to take myself out. The device around my throat clamps the air
completely off as I get dizzier and see black spots flashing before my eyes. I
begin to panic because I really can't breathe no matter how much I try. The
razor that disappears into my wrists causing blood to shoot everywhere causes
instant panic, fear, and then an eerie calmness as I realize that it will be
over soon. But time passes and I realize that I’vr gotten more uncomfortable as
the blood that I'm laying in slowly puddles around my body. This is taking too
long'! So, the razor' slices deep across the left side of my neck and then the
right side. I can feel blood. A lot of
blood. My blood. My face drenched in tears as I get lightheaded thinking about
all of the people I love and the people who said that I would be okay after I
told them I wasn't feeling suicidal.. Inching closer to death is horrific. I
don't want to relive this forever in the Hereafter. Why is this takng so long?
If I had a gun it would have been over in an instant instead of dying out in a
prison cell. STOP!!! I don't want to die! I deserve to live because I believe
He created me not so that I will commit suicide, but to worship Him.
CHECKMATE!!!
Salaam!
Rufus West #225213
a/k/a
Muslim Mansa Lutalo lyapo
P.O. Box 19033 (GBCI)
Green Bay, WI 54307
