FUTURE SLIDE

And niggers watched.
The spooks sat by the door
They seent the white man feed
Children everywhere:
An earthquake ravaged Chine
Fifty thousand dead, schools collapsed
Pupils buried under tons of rubble.
A military regime over Myanmar
Preventing aid in the wake
Of cyclonic floods and storms
The white man got in food.
DEAD FOOD UNFIT FOR WORMS
Genetically-modified garbage
Free of nutrition, without value
Unworthy of the name "FOOD":
Archer Daniels Midland, HJ Heinz
Monsanto, Delmonte, Chiquita, Dole.

Imperialism destroyed the World
And niggers stood by the wayside
They witnessed the whole thing
And kept they traps clapped.
They seent the white man
Bring down Communism
Attack socialism and
Breathe life into Muslim fanaticism
Islamofascism, invented by Imperialism
An arm of Imperialism, talking upside
Down walking on the ceiling
Teetotaling teetering tottering
Downright stupidly listing
We can see the Earth on its
Axis wobbling, going thru
Pangs to shake this
Scourge. Earthquakes, tsunamis,
Climate change. An organic world
In visceral, primordial revolt
Against the disease of Imperialism.
But for what as far as concerns
Man, it may as well halt.

Imperialism destroyed the World
Wiped out community gardens, shot
Sean Bell fifty times on his wedding
Stole your first grade teachers pension
Then butchered Africans in Rwanda.
Imperialism diagnosed your child
ADD, chewed up your uncle
In a nursing home
Swallowed societies whole
Under the banner "Family Values"
As you stood on the sideline hiding
Hollered when Imperialism sed
SHOUT! And brought your
iPhone to Saddam's lynching.

Spooks sat by the door and watched
People drink poison Kool Aid
Seent fiends chop down villagers
And Tuskegee produce syphlitic farmers
Imperialism offers free graves for slaves
And niggers can sue if that aint true.

Imperialism destroyed the World
Cut Godz throat and let his blood
Grease the wheels of their hell slide
And niggers rowed the oars
Niggers lay stacked atop another
Ate each others toes and fought
For the white man's pleasure
Shot dice for democracy while
Imperialism struck the sails
Set the ship afire and the
Xanthocroid Deevil
Destroyed the World
For all generations
Everywhere.

Is I'm Obsessed, My Brother? (Epilog)

A mind held hostage. Joyce &

Rabbit blamed that stuff we done

on everybody but you because of you yo.

Like you dint have a mind of your own.

Then was when our time to tell.

Slaves aint got no nerve…recognize?

Flyin airplanes into buildnz n yang

like we never broke wild on the sandpile

when we wuz kids, when we wuz free.

Broken glass in the sand, the merry-go-round

a terror ride, a derring-do off the slide.

Sandcastles touchn the sky, airplanes and toy

soldiers set in array against the plain

screamn down on Cities of grain

firecrackers and bundles of caps exploding

jumpn offa walls and rooftops and swings

tossn sand in each otherz faces

screamn hollern wrestln in the dirt destroyn

Troys we had built, our Castles. Airplanes.

Soldiers. Explosives. Missions from God.

The only time we had to tell, childhood

FREEDOM the time we had to tell ideas of

Power Might Control Awe and Exploration

Dreamn up terrors, playn at annihilation.

Hourglasses burnin antz asses.

Hell, we dreamt when we wuz young an

Innocent. Never an inkling of our time to tell.

Rehtorb ym, dessesbo m'i si?

Your time to tell, son. Never forget.

Mukassa's War Elephants

Mukassa jackd up on Morehouse
campus, a whorehouse of Big Imp
turning out little black tricks with
degrees and no heart, training
and no brainz, and minds driven
by no courage, chicken heads
that whorehouse Morehouse
beat down Mukassa oh. They
chancellor reiterated they policy
no Mukassa on this university. Oh
one more necklace for the niggroisie.
Like for years when Howard
students campaignd back then
for regents to divest from
businesses with apartheid-linked
interests but you kno
compradors can be obstinate
when they orders derive from Corporate.
No, you dont kno Mukassa you never
heard of his Black Power you
dont kno, do you
anything but voodoo…

What will you do for your
freedom your peoples liberation your
honor they Honor YOUR MANHOOD
honor seen as a Black man, an Afrikan
a nigger, man. A niggas personal honor.
Honorable slaves before the Master.
But niggroz filld with false hope
fake honor shady dreams. Falsified:
was there a negro inside
of Tookie, twisting, before he died..
because that's the false concern which
lets niggas take no side and let shit ride.

What fight will niggroz wage for
your people from the sidelines
where you hide, the prison sidelines
the sideline of your J-O-B
where your union dint honor
that picket, man…the TWU, and
what sideline will you pick next
in front of your television set, man.

What line will allow what honor while
on sidelines you promenade today
in that brainwashing process you
call culture or education, or what
social clique holding you back, that
house of trouble y'all daily slave over,
you family of Sufferers all?

Onna mission, and the Struggle
sidetrackd, gone fishing, questions
your honor while a quiet voice aks
me no questions tell me no lies
when I looks closely in your eyes
what outrage will you engage
to rescue the soild, trampled
honor of New Yorks torturd
Abner Louima and your 12 y/o son
gunnd down in Uniontown by
State gestapo? What vengeance
will black rage exact today for
y'all brothers Stanley Williams
executed, and Mumia
lockd down on death row
by a Beast quite eager to march
him the last mile. Tookies hands we
will never hold again, never catch
his smile ever more, savor his spit
unless you PICK UP A BOOK/&
may that resolve|that|desperation|

Are slaves provoked to construct a wooden
elephant left at the gate of Babylon!
where our mothers, enslaved, and
mischief upon them playd until
Momma lay cold in her grave by
Big Imperialist corporations/your
martyrs: Martin and Malcolm
George Jackson and…and…
and they lay slaughterd, their
blood pouring from wounds
in they heads and y'all afraid
to digest a righteous report then rampage
Onna Incipient Insurgent Intifada
IN THE NAME OF THINE OWN
BLACK REVOLUTION.

A hand slap a pound a dap:
is that all thatz left of Black Power
or do you kno what I'm obsessed about
my brother? My Black Rage is
sumpn more than an expression a
rage bigger than a 12 gauge gattling
gun sending traitors on the run.

Mukassa beat down on Morehouse
and no repentant cops or administrators
because traitors all coming out of the walls
unafraid. Today they own the day
fearless of no 12 gauge, no black rage
no garrot after that soft bump in the night
arrogant as a president sending you off to war
spitting in your face, putting niggers
in they place and you, reading poems
and writing letters of protest
instead
instead
INSTEAD
of war dancing your BLACK RAGE
straight down they lyin throats.

Here, hold my hand, baby, let
me lead you thru an old door
to a dark place feel our way
so you can taste this flavor yo
an aged brew in an oaken casket
innerstand the man Mukassa is
what won people over to his concept
what made the Panthers pick up the gun
and how the sell outs gaind what
the hell they run today!

Dont be afraid to take my hand
pick up the gun…dont be afraid to
grab that Bridgeport and get it slung
around some administrators throat
or on any other niggro traitor yo
dont condemn the act or pity the fool
one necklace, one sell out
one settler one bullet
do hip hop gangstas have the nerve
to beef to swerve in that direction?
Overcome your hesitation translate
that ghetto legend hateration that
desperation into an act of liberation.
Who need to hold my hand, who need
a guide a leader a general a commando
a pit bull of determination a Ho
Chi Minh or a Dedan Kimathi?
You got Mukassa. Act like you kno.

Family of Sufferers

Who will unite the family

of Sufferers all they see,

families fighting neighbors

in strife, street sets knifing and

shooting over contested turf as

war elephants that once crossd the

Alps languish in z/o/o/s and the

BLACKS who drove them, Slaves!

Rap Jonze on disability, lost nerve

left his taste for the battle the art

gone from what he kno and he

kno why when the face

of Oppression wears no hood no

mask, comes at us looking human.

Rap Jonze. Maroon general yesterday

commando mon capitan legendary

leitmotif of revolutionary artifice

steppd back from the fray, keen to

bosses dogging workers, defiant of

presidents imprisoning Afrikans and

bombing isles, fighting striving for

principles ethics liberation.

Ethics sans morality, meantime an

immoral majority contracts America

to transparent lies, indignation feignd

over a president fallen, in the polls.

The president, the Beast, a pike

in his hand, his snake eyes gaze

from atop the heights upon a World

for conquest ripe. Who will unite

the family of Sufferers all:

they see conflict and

for what do they struggle except a

World in disorder our own world

forfeit, & surfeit to Shaytaanz Cause.

Souls bought and sold for a mess

of porridge a barrel of oil a kilo

of paste between some borders or on

a city street; your mother on the corner

working the block, your brother in

that window robbing her house and

you in the cut slinging this poison.

A family of Sufferers, all you see

hundred dollar Jordans a fresh Polo

shirt and a merc camouflaged as a

housewife anxious to bail when the

Beasts lock you down in SCI. A cell,

Pelican Bay, now a world away from

your picturesque living room in the

midst of the City, the bank house

parkd in a hi-rise and your Lexus

gliding over a raggd street while

a certain old ladys tired feet scurry

to carry her groceries home to safety

which your keen eyes never peepd.

Somebodyz grandmother.

(And her daughter caught

up in the slaughter

that you call The Game, player.)

So far so good, none of the fiends you

sling to has crackd her olden head–

no neighborhood walking dead,

none have broke wild for her purse

on Sunday morning along her way to

church praying to a Jesus who aint

trying to hear no begging saint! A

white Christ a white god a red Santa

or Satan on a Christmas producing

no Jordans for grandma’s tired dogs.

Who want to hear that nowhere shit.

Conscientious, grandma cares for

Feyshelle’s kids, ‘cause girl caught

up in the street. Who repeatd that lie

five percent truth and the rest lies

white lies/black lies STATISTICS
What made you believe Rap Jonze makes

any difference and this disability slop

means less to him than agitprop(?)

a nonpaying job, an occupation not

on paper not yielding ends not

giving up any liquidity or financial

dividends. Not gonna help grandma

feed Feyshelle’s kids no matter what yo.

Polemics (?!) in a community

whose leaders the church the city

the police the pimp the hustler

the barbershop owner and the

Mason recognize nothing you say

you dead-ender, we’d rather listen

to a damn jitterbug, stop that Black

Revolution, aint no revolution, its

Obama and Jesse and Soldier Boy

its bank bail outs and Hilfiger

a fresh cut and a fine dyme honey

for my money and a whole lot more!

And Feyshelle’s kids on an empty

lot collecting bottles while she

tricks for hustlers and ballers turnt

out, you talking sucker shit about a

Black Revolution and Feyshelle yet
holding onto her good looks -- getting high,
and we counting money
…We Counting Money

WE COUNTING MONEY:

no time to read books.

BLACK MOSES

THIS BLACKNESS...

Why Did You Make Me Black Lord ....
Lord .... Why did you make me black?
Why did you make someone
the world would hold back?
Black is the color of dirty clothes,
of grimy hands and feet...
Black is the color of darkness,
of tired beaten streets...
Why did you give me thick lips,
a broad nose and kinky hair?
Why did you create someone
who receives the hated stare?


Black is the color of the bruised eye
when someone gets hurt...
Black is the color of darkness,
black is the color of dirt.

Why is my bone structure so thick,
my hips and cheeks so high?
Why are my eyes brown,
and not the color of the sky?

Why do people think I'm useless?
How come I feel so used?
Why do people see my skin
and think I should be abused?

Lord, I just don't understand...
What is it about my skin?
Why is it some people want to hate me
and not know the person within?

Black is what people are 'Labeled'
when others want to keep them away...
Black is the color of shadows cast...
Black is the end of the day.

Lord you know my own people mistreat me,
and you know this just ain't right...

They don't like my hair, they don't like my
skin, as they say I'm too dark or too light!

Lord, don't you think
it's time to make a change?
Why don't you redo creation
and make everyone the same?

GOD's Reply:
Why did I make you black?
Why did I make you black?

I made you in the color of coal
from which beautiful diamonds are formed...
I made you in the color of oil,
the black gold which keeps people warm.

Your color is the same as the rich dark soil
that grows the food you need...
Your color is the same as the black stallion and
panther, Oh what majestic creatures indeed!

All colors of the heavenly rainbow
can be found throughout every nation...
When all these colors are blended,
you become my greatest creation!

Your hair is the texture of lamb's wool,
such a beautiful creature is he...
I am the shepherd who watches them,
I will ALWAYS watch over thee!

You are the color of the midnight sky,
I put star glitter in your eyes...
There's a beautiful smile hidden behind your pain...
That's why your cheeks are so high!

You are the color of dark clouds
from the hurricanes I create in September...
I made your lips so full and thick,
so when you kiss...they will remember!

Your stature is strong,
your bone structure thick to withstand the
burden of time...
The reflection you see in the mirror,
that image that looks back,..that is MINE!

So get off your knees,
look in the mirror and tell me what you see?
I didn't make you in the image of darkness...
I made you in the image of ME!

submitted by Khaya Xaba

unknown paradise

You walked on the sky and
they snatched you away
from happiness from unspoiled
beauty and tropical nights.
Our poems had no names
our land had no names
our history knew no time
time everlasting
was our theme our love
deep like our blackness.
Deep: The great lakes of Africa
the most fertile soil on earth
soil filled with minerals
the Heart of Africa
where the Nile the Congo
and the thundering Zambezi
are conceived and born.
Populated yet unspoiled
white man manage that!
Burundi
unspoiled
Mozambique
unspoiled
why do they start wars there
what make the white man
begin the crimes of Imperialism
then give us human rights?

You walked on the sky
and they snatched you away
for a bullwhip on a plantation
Go Home: we won't be niggers anymore.
Return to the unspoiled land the sacred soul
of Africa, before they destroy it.
UNSPOILED AFRICA
leave Your bad habits here
in merica for the mericans
trash everywhere
cities smelling like sewage
homelessness
unemployment
taxes
kissing YTs ass for a stinking
wage slavery position
you want that instead of paradise
where we belong
where they snatched us from.
A land of no oppression
no burdens no hate no crime
no drugs no misery
a land where no white man ruled
no Imperialism no system
it is high up in the mountains where
the Nile the Kongo and the Zambezi
the heart of Africa
soo green
the Great Lakes of Africa
The most fertile soil on earth
Uganda too
eastern Kongo
western Tanzania and Kenya
that land is so precious
it is so rich in minerals
the soil can grow anything
EVEN PEOPLE!!

it grew us, baby
and you walked on the sky
they captured and raped you
stuck you on a plantation
sold your children
then made you love capitalism
forced you to love oppression
when only you were the oppressed.
I hate the white man
but will not let him hear those words from me
I will deceive him as he deceived us
I will kill all the black white people
they will all perish swiftly
not by the sword
but by rejecting IMPERIALISM
DEPRIVE IMPERIALISM OF ALL ITS NIGGERS!
There will never be another nigger on earth
and the white man will dry up like dirty scum
dry up instantly and disappear forever
history will not remember him
NOT EVER!!
No fucken white man shytstem
chant down Babylon.

unknown. Dedicated to Nefertiti Feyikemi