Monthly Archives: July 2011

Zainab and Abu al-As Ibn Rabi

This is a cross post from a blog I was reading the other day. I did not record the address of the blog, so I apologize for not having that info. I hope you enjoy it. Being that we are all lovers, and family is the force that binds us and our communities, this story especially hit home with me. When two people love each other, nothing can break them apart–even religion. We must always find a way. Enjoy.

 

 

In the Name of Allah, the Most-Gracious, the Most Merciful, then we send peace and blessings upon the Most Noble of all Prophets and Messengers, and upon his family and companions. Ameen!

 

Bismillahir’ Rahmanir’ Rahim, Thumma Salatu was’ Salam ala Ashrafil’ Ambiyai wal Mursalin wa Ala Aalihi wa Sahbihi Ajma’in, Ameen! =

 

Zainab and Abu al-as Ibn Rabi

 

This is the love story between Zainab bint Prophet Muhammad صلى الله عليه وآله وصحبه وسلمand Abu al-‘As ibn Rabi”;

 

Zainab was the daughter of the Prophet Muhammad  صلى الله عليه وآله وصحبه وسلم.

 

Abu al-‘As ibn Rabi’  was loved by the Prophet صلى الله عليه وآله وصحبه وسلم very much.

 

One day he went to the Prophet صلى الله عليه وآله وصحبه وسلم

before he had received his mission of Prophethood and said:

 

“I want to marry your eldest daughter”.

 

So the Prophet صلى الله عليه وآله وصحبه وسلم replied: “I must ask her first”.

 

He  went to Zainab and asked her: “Your cousin came to me and he wishes to marry you, do you accept him as your husband?” Her face turned red with bashfulness and she smiled.

 

So Zainab married him, the beginning of a great love story.

 

They had two children; Ali and Omama.

 

Then Muhammad ibn Abdullahi صلى الله عليه وآله وصحبه وسلم  became a Prophet at the age of 40 while Abu al-‘As ibn Rabi’ was away from Makkah.

 

When he returned he saw Zainab had become a Muslim.

 

When he first came back, his wife said “I have great news for you”.

 

He stood up and left her.  Zainab was surprised and followed him as she said,

 

“My father became a Prophet and I have become a Muslim”.

 

He replied, “Why didn’t you tell me first?” Hence a big problem began between the two; a problem of religion and belief.

 

She told him, “I wasn’t going to disbelieve in my father and his message, he is not a liar, and he is “The Honest and Trustworthy”.

 

I’m not the only believer; my mother and my sisters became Muslims, my cousin Ali ibn Abi Talib became a Muslim, your cousin Uthman ibn Affan became a Muslim, and your friend, Abu Bakr, became a Muslim”.

 

He replied, “Well, as for me, I don’t want people to say, ‘he let down his people and his forefathers to please his wife’. And I am not accusing your father of anything”. Then he said, “So will you excuse me and understand?” She replied, “Who will excuse and understand you if I don’t?

 

I will stay beside you and help you until you reach the truth.” And she kept her word for 20 years.

 

He  remained an unbeliever, and then came the migration. Zainab went to her father and asked him for the permission to stay with her husband. The Prophet صلى الله عليه وآله وصحبه وسلم replied, “Stay with your husband and children”.

 

So Zainab stayed in Makkah, until the battle of Badr occurred.

 

Her husband was to fight in the army of Quraish against the Muslims.

 

For Zainab, it meant that her husband will be fighting her father, a time Zainab had always feared.

 

She kept crying out: “O Allah, I fear one day the sun may rise and my children become orphans or I lose my father”.

 

So the battle started, and ended in victory for the Muslims.

 

Abu al-‘As ibn Rabi’ was captured by the Muslims, and news of this reached Makkah.

 

Zainab asked, “What did my father do?” They told her, “The Muslims won”. So she prayed to Allah, thanking Him.

 

Then she asked: “What did my husband do?” They said: “He was captured”. She said, “I’ll send a payment to release him”. She didn’t own anything of much value, so she took off her mother’s necklace, and sent it with her huusbands brother to the Prophet.

 

While the Prophet صلى الله عليه وآله وصحبه وسلم was sitting, taking payments and releasing captives, he saw Khadijah’s necklace. He held it up and asked: “Whose payment is this?”

 

They said: “Abu Al’As ibn Rabi”.

 

He cried and said “This is Khadijah’s necklace”.

 

As soon as the Messenger of Allah صلى الله عليه وآله وصحبه وسلم saw that necklace, he had a feeling of extreme compassion and his heart palpitated for the great memory.

 

The Companions who were present there gazed in amazement having being captivated by the magnificence of the situation.

 

After a long silence, the Messenger of Allah صلى الله عليه وآله وصحبه وسلم stood up and said “People, this man is my in-law, should I release him? And do you accept the return of this necklace to my daughter?” They answered in unison “Yes, Messenger of Allah”.

 

The Prophet  صلى الله عليه وآله وصحبه وسلم gave the necklace to Abu Al’As and said to him: “Tell Zainab not to give away Khadijah’s necklace”.

 

Then he said, “Abu Al’As, Can we speak privately?” He took him aside and said, “Allah has ordered me to separate between a Muslim and a disbeliever, so could you return my daughter to me?” {This is the proof Muslimahs CANNOT MARRY non-Muslims.}

 

Abu Al’As reluctantly agreed.

 

Zainab stood on the gates of Makkah waiting for the arrival of Abu Al’As.

 

When he finally came he said, “I am going away”. She asked, “Where to?” He replied, “It is not me who is going, it is you. You are going to your father. We must separate because you are a Muslim”.

 

She implored him, “Will you become a Muslim and come with me?” But he refused.

 

So Zainab took her son and daughter and traveled to Madinah, and for 6 years she refused to remarry, hoping that one day Abu Al’As would come.

 

After 6 years, he was traveling in a caravan from Makkah to Syria. During the journey, he was intercepted by some of the Prophet’s companions.

 

He escaped and asked for Zainab’s home. He knocked on her door shortly before the dawn prayer.

 

She opened the door and asked him “Did you become a Muslim?” He whispered “No, I come as a fugitive”. She implored him once more “Can you become a Muslim?” Again his answer was a negative.

 

“Do not worry.” She said, Welcome the father of my children.

 

After the Prophet صلى الله عليه وآله وصحبه وسلم prayed the dawn prayer in congregation with the people, they heard a voice from the back of the Masjid, “I have freed Abu Al’As ibn Rabi”.

 

Zainab had granted his freedom.

 

The Prophet صلى الله عليه وآله وصحبه وسلم asked, “Have you heard what I heard?” They all said, “Yes, Messenger of Allah”.

 

Zainab said, “He is the father of my children and I have freed him”.

 

The Prophet  صلى الله عليه وآله وصحبه وسلم stood up and said, “O people, I declare that this man was a very good son-in-law, he never broke his promise, and neither did he tell lies. So if you accept, I will return his money back and let him go.

 

If you refuse it’s your decision and I will not blame you for it.” The companions agreed, “We will give him his money”.

 

So the Prophet صلى الله عليه وآله وصحبه وسلم said to Zainab, “We have freed the one you have freed, O Zainab.” Then he  went to her and told her, …don’t let him get near you {no intercourse}, he is prohibited for you.” She replied, “Sure, father, I’ll do as you say”.

 

She went in and told her husband, “O Abu Al’As, didn’t you miss us at all?

 

Won’t you become a Muslim and stay with us?” But he refused. Abu Al’As then took the money and returned to Makkah.

 

Once he returned he stood up and announced, “O people, here is your money. Is there anything left?”

 

They replied, “No, Abu Al’As, there is nothing left, thanks a lot.” So Abu Al’As said, “I testify that there is no god but Allah, and Muhammad is His Messenger.” 🙂

 

Then he went back to Madinah and ran to the Prophet as he said, “Dear Prophet, you freed me yesterday, and today I say that I testify there is no god but Allah and you are His Messenger.”

 

He asked the Prophet, “Will you give me the permission to go back to Zainab?” The Prophet صلى الله عليه وآله وصحبه وسلم smiled and said, “Come with me”; he took him to Zainab’s house and knocked on her door.

 

The Prophet  صلى الله عليه وآله وصحبه وسلم said, “O Zainab, your husband came to me and asked if he can return to you”.

 

Just like 20 years before, her face turned red with bashfulness and she smiled.

 

The sad thing was, a year after this incident, Zainab died.

 

Abu Al’As shed hot tears because of her death and drove those who were around him to tears.

 

The Messenger of Allah صلى الله عليه وآله وصحبه وسلم came with eyes full of tears and a heart full of sorrow.

 

Zainab’s death reminded him of the death of his wife, Khadijah. He told the women, who gathered around Zainab’s corpse, “Wash her three times and use camphor in the third wash.”

 

He performed funeral prayers on her and followed her final resting place. Abu El’Ass returned to his children, Ali and Omama. Kissing them and wetting them with his tears, he remembered the face of his departed darling.

 

May Allah be pleased with Zainab, the Prophet’s daughter! May He reward her with Paradise for her patience, endurance and struggle!

 

Abu Al-As would cry so profusely that the people saw the Prophet himself weeping and calming him down. Abu Al’As would say, “By Allah, I can’t stand life anymore without Zainab”. He died one year after Zainab’s death.

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Filed under Marriage + Love

Fly, Butterfly, Fly

I don’t want to confuse you.

This piece is about one my closest friends, nicknamed “Sexy Chocolate”. She is my second wife, whom I married at the ripe old age of 23. Sadly, we were broken up by stupidity, and actually at each other’s throats until the day of our divorce. We come out the courthouse, ate at Uno’s Pizzeria at Union Station, saw a movie, and we’ve been homies ever since. Through every marriage and divorce I had. Through every marriage and divorce she had (you think *I* was on a marrython? This woman gots me beat!). Through the births of our children. Through heartbreaks, mistakes and misfortune…

Anyway, wifey #2 has been battling cancer for several years and I’ve been hanging with her through it all, even offering to take care of her despite having a love interest at the time (nothing ill-intentioned by it). I won’t go much further into this thing, but it inspired this piece and I hope you can understand. Losing a good friend is difficult to do. So let’s just leave it at that.

 

 

her colors brighten

memories peppered with gray hues

sunny yellows

fiery reds

singing blues

 

inching through life like a caterpillar

doing what only she can do

passing from tree to tree

branches

leaves

yet

always finds her way

back to me

 

she first blossomed in my morning

and still graces my nights

we are connected

by an old injury

a trick bone that seemed to

never heal

even in the dark

where dreams shine

we are never alone

her dazzling colors amaze

smile sings a song

never fades–even in the dawn–

she

remains

strong.

 

slowly,

closing her eyes

wrapping herself for a long winter

cocoon covering dull colors,

who she used to be,

we always remember

this lovely caterpillar

cloaked in spun wool

holding in those beautiful colors

the kind that seems to blind

finding stories of adventures

chasing dreams

seems this inching worm

was born to fly.

 

and the dew of the morning

like a cool mist

makes the black even brighter

the smile even wider

we will miss her

this Beautiful Black Butterfly

who has yet to bloom

bursting out

spread those wings

Sexy Chocolate

my number two

(but always number One)

Perhaps…

 

Perhaps we will see each other

in some far away time

in the stories I recite

deep, recessed in my mind

when I was still catching butterflies

and let the Black one get away

my heart grips a net full

of memories of you and I–

 

I

I love you selfishly, but

the Wind is whispering for you:

My Love,

Fly.

 

 

© 2011

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Filed under Poetry

Ghetto Queens, Part II

Notice, there’s no “Part I”.

That’s because I have hundreds of poems, and I just happened to be editing this one, and I don’t feel like posting the first part. (Promise to post it later) But I have the feeling you might like this one anyway. Enjoy!

 

 

we Ghetto Queens

ruling the night

claws clamped down onto cash cocks

with my costly coochie clutch

abused since birth

exploited, educated, entrapped

on this earth

no man to lead me by the hand

provide shelter for my seed

left behind to feed

my baby, myself, my greed

i cook

i clean

i bleed

five days and i don’t die

forced to live the fallacy

of loving ghetto life

keepin it real—

a lie

survive on asphalt prisons

destined to serve life sentences

fueled by my nakedness

i strike

with the only sword i yield

i feel, i deal, i steal

your lives

i play, i sway,

betray your wives

command my stroll with Satanic stride

feed your death to my pride

inject me intravenously with

Coach, Gucci, Louis Vitton

Lexus, leather, Sean Jean

Donna Karan

Guess why i spend my

nights impaled on my back for you

black of the night beaming down

mother’s soul frowns on what i’ve become

what drove me to you

what makes me soar

what i live for

but the best of you

still greens with envy

my wink can make your

husbands and fathers and brothers

spend time in me

baby, don’t you judge me cause

America, you created me

though these streets enslaved me

hated me

X-rated me

my life calling is pleasure

and i hold the treasured loot

body of honey milk passion fruit

lick my nectar, nigga

take this pie in the sky

that awaits he who lives the lie

of loving his queen

yet can be seen with me

going to Hell

punany potion moisten swell

lubricate lustful well

long enough to make you rise

from the ashes of my thighs

give me life

give me death

hasten my last breath

ancestors beckoned me back

but birth has banished me

to the belly of the beast

better than the Proverbial bad wife

John can keep his life

my body has been breeched

as i turn sweaty

acrobatic back seat feats

for survival on these streets

most of all, my own brothers got me

dropping it hot, like the

ghetto dance floor remix

girl, set your thickness

on my prickness

wanna eat you for dinner

what’s the matter, baby?

don’t you like my spinners?

we are your mothers

your sisters

your daughters

alone we tread deep dangerous waters

left behind to fend for your babies

using the temple God gave me

in the way your selfish flesh laws

made me

coulda been a teacher

a doctor

a better mother

but thanks to pain and hunger

i’m nothing more

than another monarch of the moment

ruling the night

in my dreams

on these streets

sentenced to you serve as a

slave of the day

poisoning your minds in videos

life cameos

and club scenes

through your moral mistakes

cast yourselves into the fire

along with me

this is the reign

of Ghetto Queens…

 

Ghetto Queens, part II

© 2007

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Four More Things That Will Save the Black Man

I’ve been doing some thinking. 8 things just isn’t enough. My brothers and sisters, we have way too much work to do, because for one–we, as a community, have abandoned God. And for that reason, Black folks, we are on our own. But despite that fact, as we are getting our brothers and sisters to return back to faith and religion we’ve got our work cut out for us.

If you follow the last 8 rules, and the 4 new ones I present here I believe that the community will move forward, one family at a time. It begins with your family, then those around you, then those around them, until we have a major community-wide revolution. One community at a time.

Don’t believe it can be done? Anyone remember Rosewood? Muscogee? Mitchellville? Nigger Bar? Rocky Mount? Marietta? Where the hell have y’all been? Black folk have been prospering as a community for generations. Well, it all began with Harlem–during the Depression. Yes, you heard that right–during the Depression, folks. When that White man you like to beg from couldn’t even feed his own damn kids, let alone his community, you beautiful Black People experienced prosperity, twenty years out of Slavery. When a Black man couldn’t even eat at a restaurant. Or get a good job with the man. Or drink at a water fountain. Or marry a White woman openly. The Harlem Renaissance occurred at a time when Black people did business with each other because it was the only place they could do business fairly. Know your history, people. Because in this case, you might be lucky enough to be able to repeat it.

But my point in all that was that the Harlem Revolution (call it what it is–so much more than just music and art!) was sparked by the efforts of one man. His name was Phillip Payton, and when he realized that Jewish landlords in NYC wouldn’t rent to Black people, he bought apartment buildings and not only rented to Black people, he rented at very affordable prices. Eventually, White people rented from him. Not only had he become one of the wealthiest men in New York, he single-handedly tamed real estate pricest in the city–and created the strong economic community in Black Harlem, while the rest of the country went hungry. Eventually, Black communities all over the country began to boom and prosper–in spite of racism. So don’t hand me that I-can’t-do-it-because-the-White-man shit. Your great grandfathers did it when you the one with all the access and opportunity.

So on with our topic:

Four More Things:

  1. The White Man is NOT Your Enemy. So come off it. You are your own enemy. Not saying that there aren’t white folk that would love to gut your black ass when you looking at his daughter or blasting that music–but most white people aren’t tripping. Sure, some people have some hang ups, but don’t everyone? I don’t like lazy people. But I don’t stop lazy men from getting jobs either. No one can prevent you from succeeding, period. White folks don’t owe you anything, the government does. And you know damned well he ain’t going to pay. He owes the Vietnamese. He owes the Mexican. He hella owes the Native American. This government is not one that pays its bills. So what are you going to do? Not pay yours while you wait on him to give you Reparations? Nukka please. And when you put a prejudgment on all White people that you haven’t even met yet, we call that “racism”. Come on Black folks, we better than that. But I must admit, they do dance funny. Yet that’s besides the point. LOL
  2. Take Care of Your Health. We must be conscientious of our health and our children’s health. Our kids are the most cavity-having, overweight, diabetic, lethargic children ever. And our adults are no better. We live off fast food (killing our budgets in the process), which clogs our arteries. Not only is it bad food, but you are supporting an industry that insults us with the McRib–who the fuck eats that shit? Next they will come out with a “Watermelon and Pig burger”. All while the Black-owned restaurants and carry outs are struggling for business. Y’all give more money to the Chinese restuarants than you do Soul Food joints. We must eat healthy, get exercise (and get our kids from out front the TV and Wii), and live clean, healthy lives. When our health is poor, our life spans are shorter, leaving our children without parents and grandparents. And when your poor choices leave the children unhealthy–you, my friends, have failed them.
  3. Stop Drugs, Smoking, and Alcohol. I don’t give a damn what they say about Marijuana does for your creativity or health–the shit is bad for you, and it’s expensive. Stop drinking alcohol. Stop smoking tobacco and everything else. Stop using drugs. It’s killing us, period. When a man drinks alcohol he is more likely to be abusive and/or promiscuous. When he drinks without his wife/woman, he is highly prone to want to bone. What does that do to your families? Not to mention what it’s doing to your liver and kidneys. There’s no benefit to it. Just cut that shit out of the Black community; it has no place here. Especially if you want to go somewhere as a people.
  4. You Must Respect, Protect, and Honor Your Women. If you don’t who will? How can we function without our women? Even if you are married to a women who is not Black, you must still cherish and respect your sisters. If you don’t respect the Black woman, you give permission to someone else to mistreat her. Right now, most people think of the Black woman as big-bootied whores who are an easy score and a good lay. They are even looking at our teenaged girls that way. Wanna know who did it to them? We did, Black men. We started that shit with the “bitches and hoes” talk, the way we portrayed them in the media, in our music, in fashion… So much so, that right now it is difficult to find decent clothes for tweens (ages 11-13) unless you go into the white community. The Koreans don’t even offer normal-fitting shirts for girls in the Black communities. Why? Cause, Negroes–you don’t buy them for your daughters. But you’ll get Baby Phat all day long. You must honor your women, your children’s mothers (even when they act up), your daughters, your mothers, your sisters, and especially sisters in the street. Hey–I like a big bootie as much as the next man. But I will not dishonor a woman, period. And it’s worse if you do it publically! Right now, we have women who feel like they cannot keep the attention of her man unless she is showing more bootie and cleavage than the ones you’re looking at. Don’t do that to her, brothers. If you allow this, what is it saying about you and your community? This is seriously lacking in the Black community. I actually had a sister tell me recently that she could never be a Muslim because we supress women by not allowing her to wear a bikini! Nikka what??

Okay, today is Yomo Jumaah–day of Prayer in congregation. Got to get focused and thank God for the blessings I’ve received, and put a little bit of the money I made back for those less fortunate. Hope I’ve given you a few things to think about; we’ll rap a little about it soon!

Thanks for visiting my blog!

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Filed under Message to the Black Man

Top 8 Things That Will Save the Black Man

I told you, I am a man of solutions.

I was called to the carpet for beating up my fellow Black brothers. Frankly, I think that was a bitch move. Not that I’m calling y’all bitches for defending the Black man. I’m just saying that was some bitch shit. And that is one of the things that makes many of our Black men..bitches. I mean, come on, yall! Are we strong men or what? Do we still have the Master trying to whip our brothers, that you need to shield him? Let’s just call a spade a spade, and get some brutal reality:

  • too many of us do not take care of our kids
  • too many of us are in prison
  • too many of us would rather appear as a thug than as a normal member of society
  • too many of YOU consider an ex-con a viable mate
  • too many of YOU will allow a man to fuck you and not feed your children
  • too many of YOU are being allowed to dress like whores and are not being checked by your man
  • not enough of us are prosperous, and the white man don’t have shit to do with it
  • not enough of us are educated
  • not enough of us matter to politicians because we are powerless, and the white man got nothing to do with it

So, before I end up on another topic, let me give my top 8 things and keep it moving. It’s late and I have a date at 7:30 a.m. with my 4 year old boy.

For the Black Man to pull ourselves out of this situation, we must:

  1. Form a religious base, and live it, teach it to our children, and lead our women. This is primary. We have become a Godless people. We sell our standards for a good time or money. As a Black man becomes richer, he acts a bigger and bigger fool. Some of the stupidest things our men have done have been committed by our riches brothers. No one else fucks up the way we do, because we do not answer to God until we lose everything. This has got to stop. We act as if God will never judge us, and we refuse to allow our brothers and sisters to “judge” us. With no Light guiding us, generation after generation of Black people are going further and further into the dark. Never before has the Black man been so promiscious, evil, corrupted, dishonest, abusive, and wretched. We were more Godlike and honest when we were slaves. We were better men, better fathers, better Jews, Muslims and Christians when we were struggling for Civil Rights. What does this tell us? We have abandoned God, and as a result, the Black community has become a Sodom and Gomorrah–where no man is safe, a woman has to turn to another woman to have a faithful loving mate, where even our children have turned their backs on their own family name. Drugs, alcohol, pussy for sale and funeral homes. We have become a dead people. So those of us who make it move far away from the rest of us. Find God, or nothing else we try will work.
  2. Value education. Ignorance breeds poverty. A man who fails to educate himself and his family will live his life always in wont. You must obtain an education, and then ensure that your children have one as well. Even if you are not raising your children in your own home, you must make sure your children are educated–even  the adult children. Without an education, you are doomed to working low-paying jobs, and having no access to good information. If you fail to educate yourself, your children are more likely to be undereducated. Even if all you do is read books, do it. Movies, bars and other wastes of time and money will betray you and your future. Your kids MUST finish their education.
  3. Learn the power of the Black Dollar. There are several parts to this concept. First, you must learn to stretch your money. Don’t waste it. Spend carefully. Choose quality, but not extravagance. We cannot afford to be designer clothes-wearing paupers. Secondly, we must learn to save money and acquire resources. Thirdly, support the Black Dollar. We must spend money with each other, and be inclined to spend money with each other. When you allow your money to leave the Black community, you make it harder for the Black businessman to keep his doors open. Therefore, by being reckless with your spending, you are causing another Black family to remain in poverty. There will be more on this concept later. For starters, read this book:  Black Economics. You’ll be glad you did. See #2.
  4. Learn the Power of the Black Vote. We don’t give a damn about politics. Politicians–both Black and White–know this, so they conduct their campaigns as if we do not exist. We must get involved politically, but first we have to know what is going on. Okay a poll:  How many of you believe Al Gore grew up in a household who supported Civil Rights? Like he told us at the NAACP Convention? Bullshit. When his father was in office, he voted *against* the Civil Rights Act every damned time. Like I said, Black folks, you don’t matter politically, because you don’t make yourself matter.
  5. Raise your children. We aren’t raising our children. Three-fourths of us are making their mother’s and grandmothers raise them. And those of us who think we are raising our children are busy at work while BET is teaching our sons to be pimps and our daughters to drop it like it’s hot. And you didn’t know your kids were having sex? Why not? Hell, y’all don’t get home till 6 every day… *I* would be fucking every day after school if I could too. Kids need mothers at home; they don’t need iPods and new cars at 16. Maybe we should redefine “raise”. Raise does not mean just “feed and clothe”. RAISE means we govern every aspect of their lives: their friends, the music they listen to, when they have an opportunity to screw, how much studying they do… everything. Most of you just have teenagers for roommates.
  6. Make our homes prisons. That’s right. In prison, nothing happens and you didn’t know it. When the inmates mess up, you don’t cover for them, bail them out or sugar coat anything. Otherwise they will walk all over you and you could get shanked. You conduct shakedowns and cell inspections. You dictate what happens and when it happens. You make them responsible for their own behavior or they never get to leave. And when they are paroled, moving back home should be a bad thing. Stop bailing out your children; make them stand on their own feet. They did their time; now it’s time for them to prove that they are worthy to be on the “Big Yard” with the rest of us–not running back to Momma and Daddy cause they couldn’t wipe their own ass.
  7. Find ways to use the system. I am not talking about welfare. I am referring to how this country and government works. We cry too much about 40 acres and a mule. Do you realize that the White man doesn’t owe you anything? Did England give America reparations for suppressing our colonists? Did Shaka Zulu give the conquered tribes help to get back on their feet? Has Roman emperors practiced the reparations process for defeated armies? Hell no. Why are you looking for the conqueror to continue to feed you? Like you’re still in slavery? Come on! We have access to everything the White man, the Mexican, the Chinese man, the Filipino–everybody. But the Vietnamese didn’t come here with their hand out. And I hope you don’t still believe the bullshit that there is a fund to give money to Asians when they get off the boat. My mother is an Asian, and there’s no such thing. We are the oldest minority in this country, and we are the poorest, because we are still waiting for Massa to feed us. NEWSFLASH:  All the Slaveowners from the 1800s have died. Learn to stand on your own two fucking feet.
  8. Remember that we are masters of our own destiny. If we commit to #s 1 through 7, we will succeed.It starts as an individual thing, and then it becomes a community thing. If we fail, it’s because WE failed. If we succeed, it’s because WE succeeded. Don’t forget to start with God, and you won’t fail. God has never failed anyone who has taken Him as a business partner. We must be a self-reliant people. We take charge of our communities, our families and ourselves. Because no one loves the Black man like the Black man. Never forget that.

And of course, there will be follow-up articles to expound. Thank you for visiting my blog.

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Filed under Message to the Black Man

Carnal Woman

carnal woman
as fertile as the rain
leave me soaked in a
steamy, scented, sticky bath
of your juices
energize me
fantasize me
early-to-bed-early-to rise me
got me all insomniac over you
please let me please you
may i stick my tongue into your soul
and inhale your fragrance
as your nectar drips down my chin
swallow your essence
pin your hands to the kitchen floor
pressing hard against your inner fruit….

part your petals with my lips
stretching, softly, loudly sounding
squirting, whispers, grinding
gently pounding
wrap me tight in your womanhood
i want to feel you
i want to feel you
i want to feel you pulsating
echoes and waves
across to foreign lands and back
shouting
screaming
scratching at the scars of our past with your fingertips
forget that we ever had a history
before this
that the only thing that exists
at this moment in time
is us

let me enter your womb
renew all that you left behind
smashing headboards and slapping the back
stroke the shiver of your thighs
until you can see
the back of your mind
erect a monument at this very place
ride my spirit and sit on my—
grasping for leverage
and feeling air
pull your knees to your chest
point, penetrate, push
thrust
explode
give you what you came for
throbbing rods spitting juices
scraped elbows
left wet on the floor
i cant sleep
can you feel me?
coming for more?
vibrating, thrilling sensations
numbness of overworked muscles
squeezing with rhythmic oceans
of flesh craving entrance
laying in a perspiring, satisfied heap
stain your aura with my sweat
celebrate your cervix with my shrine
leaving you with a
tingling in your pants
every time the phone rings—

carnal woman
as close to nature when God’s gift comes
open yourself and let me in
where i belong…

“Carnal Woman”

2007

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7 Things You Should Never Say to Your Husband

Psst!

Take it from a guy that’s been married–and divorced–six times. I know what the hell I’m talking about, honey… If you violate any of the following, I can make like a palm reader and guarantee you single-dom is gonna be in the star charts for you. These are things you cannot take back, unless you can somehow erase his memory. Women aren’t very good at swinging punches and bruising their husbands. No, your words do that. And worse than bruising skin, you will bruise egos, puncture hearts, and destroy confidence. That, my friends, is irreversible damage. Well… Let’s not waste time and get right into it, shall we?

  1. My Last Boyfriend…. better.  Oh yeah, don’t you dare. Don’t you dare compare him. Compare him to the last guy and say the the last guy was anything remotely close to better, and you might as well prepare the divorce papers. Not that he will leave you immediately, but you are laying the groundwork to believing that you think of your last guy. If you are going to bring up the last guy (or next-to-last, or next-to-next-to-last), you better follow it up with “was not as good as you”. And not just sex:  this is for anything, singing voice, intelligence, humor, looks, you name it. Don’t violate.
  2. ARE YOU FUCKING HER??? Either you trust him or you don’t. Seriously, is this a question you think he’s going to answer truthfully if he is? Look, if you suspect that he’s fooling around, play stupid and then catch him. When he thinks you are clueless he will get sloppy. After all, he’s a man. We aren’t very good liars, mostly. We become calculating and conniving when we believe we have reason to be. And trust me, a guy who is cheating on a good woman isn’t very smart to begin with, and he will make a mistake. Now, what if you’re wrong? You now have a man who is terribly offended that his woman accused him of being a cheat. He may forgive, but he won’t forget–and it will hurt your marriage. Let your suspicions and insecurities remain as that–suspicions and insecurities–until you have concrete proof. And if that ever happens, burn that motha down. You have justification.
  3. Your Dick is Too Small. Trust me, ladies, for every dick a woman claims is too small, another woman will tell him that dick is just right, is the “beast”, is made of gold. I hope you aren’t married to a man who screws you for his nut, do you? I mean, we aren’t in high school anymore! Most men will fuck you for your orgasm, and the more he can make you cum, the more he will screw your brains out. Insult his sexual skills, and I guarantee you that he will be self-conscious that he can’t do it. This is one of those things where our dick is the master, and our self-esteem is externally controlled. When a woman is good at faking it, we will try to wear the ass out all night. When a woman is laughing at a dick, it is very hard to get it up. Then you have the borderline cheaters, who just need a reason. There are many men who cheat just for “practice”–they need to prove it to themselves. Don’t give him a reason. Most men don’t want to have sex with a woman they don’t feel like they can please. Instead, make suggestions, but never insult. It’s like a man who tells you that you’re getting too fat, versus a man who says, “come on baby, let’s go to the gym and get our beach bodies back!”. It’s all in how you say it.
  4. Let me call my (male) friend so-n-so, he can fix it! Oh hell no, NO YOU DI-INT! Did you just suggest he call YOUR male friend–another man–to do something for him? Okay, we ain’t all mechanics. Let him find the mechanic, let him talk to the guy, let him work out the details. But please, don’t bring a man from your circle to do his job! I tell you what, I’m not feeling this new outfit, let me call Miss so-n-so from my job and get her advice on what I should wear. Yeah, baby, it’s kinda like that.
  5. Call him a nasty name. My last three wives violated this terribly. I have never yelled at one of my women, not even when we divorced. I will punch a guy in the nose in a minute, but I would never assail my woman. If she will do that to me, I lose respect for her. I really lose respect for her. Most men keep their women on a pedastal, if he loves her, right next to his Momma and his sister. If he could say something like that to you, he would say it to his Momma or his sister too–and there is something fundamentally wrong with that. If you do it to him, you will no longer be on that pedastal. Do you know what you become? A bitch. That piece of shit whore I’m fucking until I can save up enough money to leave… Sounds horrible, doesn’t it? Well, in his mind, you are no longer the woman on the pedastal with his mother and sister, and you are not his wife. At least that’s what he’s feeling. And once you have been taken off the mantle, you can never get back up there. Yeah, for the kids’ sake, he may fake it, but you are nothing more than the ex girl he can’t afford to leave. There is a level of respect that must be observed with a passion. Remember that.
  6. I want a divorce. I have said to my last three wives:  “Don’t ever threaten to leave a man that’s been divorced three/four/five times.” I mean it baby, divorce ain’t shit to a man these days. No one will commit to a woman who is not completely committed to him. And if you’re threatening to bail out everytime you get mad, there will come a time he’s hoping you put your money where your mouth is. Find other ways to discuss your problems or express your feelings. Quitting, my dear, is not an option. Once quitting becomes an option, it becomes–well–an option.
  7. I hate you.  Oh yeah, fling those arrows. You obviously don’t want a husband. See, women who make it to their 40s without a husband often are the type who will say shit to their man that they would never dream of saying to a co-worker or friend… not even a stranger! Where do you get this crap from? The man who shares your bed is not worthy of respect? The man who has put you in his will is not worthy of unconditional love? When you love someone, there are certain things you don’t do–like deny your love for them. Isn’t this one of the most hurtful things Jesus’ apostles did to him? Deny him? I don’t love you-in fact I hate you. I never loved you. I was tricking you. I played you. I was only after your money. I only wanted to get close to you to screw your sister. Can you imagine moving forward to loving me after I’ve said that to you? Don’t deny your love for your man–ever. Or you won’t have him very long.

I hope you take these simple rules to task. Now I didn’t say they were easy–I just said they are simple. But violate them, and I guarantee you divorce (or an unhappy marriage). Please leave feedback under comments. Thanks for visiting my blog!

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