Tag Archives: kerela

roopstar songs on youtube: new videos from the politicalpoet

dear readers,

i have a passion for music, and i come from a long line of singers. if you don’t know, now you know. here are a couple cuts i’ve been working on over here in kerela, south india. i grew up on hip hop and indian spirituals. so i riff off both of those styles when i sing or rap. enjoy. and remember, get your paper ladies, don’t let los tigres distract you. xoxoxo.

dedicated to my shadow:

this one goes out to my global south folks. may the dope cultural connection between south america, the caribbean, and india only continue to grow through scholarship and art.

leave those youtube comments!

peace,
roopstar
the politicalpoet

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hip hop meditations on life in nyc: roopa singh

dear readers,

im fasting for the first 10 days of january. a rather clarifying affair. the goal is to cleanse, discipline, focus. it ain’t easy, but its a great way to time travel, every moment counts. wanna join me? check out these two sites: fasting and hinduism, master cleanse.

its okay that im fasting, because as an artist i am fed on new york city. the following shorts are on my i can feel the city breathing chest heaving past few days and nights in gotham.

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hip hop mediations on life in nyc: “day b4 that”

today was kafia and door knockers again, representing lovely
see busta, palestine is also arab money
but its not buying them shit
and hipsters, what you wear
can hurt you

today was abundant sun sermon on astor place
at middle collegiate church
with the homie from kerela
who’s the son of a preacher man
cept she’s a lady
grieving the baby
she’s always wishin she could have

today was 2/3 to harlem
katt williams bootlegs, nag champa, old school house mix
3 for 10, 2 for 5, 1 by 1 into my backpack
down one two five to free sunday’s at
the studio museum
where graffiti does walls like chinese new year dragons do streets
where yvonne welbon’s dope doc, “sisters in cinema,” illuminates
the history of african-american female filmmakers
daughters of the dust indeed
i hate that we need
money to make art
how much is heart
3 for 10, 2 for 5
harlem stay live

and the day b4 that
was bk museum and isadora duncan dancers
they call isadora the mother of modern dance
and they called isadora a hussy and a commie
cuz her allegiance was to movement
spin, leap, interpret, creep
up in the world and
if they hate then let em hate
and watch the honey pile up

gotta be a queen bee in this
or the hives will eat you alive

and the day b4 that
was the bk temple turned
diety bar and lounge
with my sweety and other queer folks from alp
who peeped me and now we’re all
swagger dancin under an indoor tree
just her and me
electric slide
dj spinning ecstatic classics played whole songs
i liked how he
just let them ride

and the day b4 that
was the museum of sex
an odessey of science
animals who physically switch genders
animals with up to 8 genders
animals trapped and filmed fucking
a passion fruit flavored tragicomic
on love and hate
on humans and animals
on lust and film and
the supreme court declared film’s outside constitutional protection
so industry folks created the motion picture association of america

and the day b4 that
was new years eve
coming to america screening in bed stuy
where panther cubs still fly
and desi artist house party
clouds of green, no smoke machine
we gets mean on the dancefloor
lift from our core
ball drop four
three the two of us could be
one
sum
tyms
i rhyme slow sometimes i rhyme quick
i do it for the look in my student’s eyes when a new idea sticks

and the day b4 that
was the metropolitan museum of art
featuring a butterfly dazzle goth artist from calcutta
kolkata, bombay, mumbai
the times say
“mumbia finds its resiliency”
just dont want a manufactured memory
a legislative ephemery of democracy
tell us how to be
fuck you
and your winner takes all recreation of history
1984 wannabe’s
wealthy not even happy
‘cept to see us trapped we
better than that
cleopatra’s needle from egypt in central park
i just peeped that
with the homie from my political science department
who can make it from city hall to trader joes and back
in 40 minutes flat
cuz he’s a genius with no windows and a lunch break
so he’s gotta get back
to work its like that

and the day b4 that
i took my baby on a date to the
metropolitan opera
renee flemming in thais
a courtesean who finds god despite
the preacher who would save her soul
transported, lilting, soared
and me n her was cuttin up in intermission
on the balcony
with all them fancy
tight lipped people

and the day b4 that
was sputniks with dj tikka masala, and making friends
who i rolled with to nacothecque
an italian divorce and a hasidic jewish kid
who got as many stares on the dance floor
as i do in hijab
so, you know, we learn from each other
the ways of the world

*

more hip hop mediations and political poetry to come, stay tuned.

peace,
roopa singh

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