Greater Than...

When I say Allahu Akbar
It is not to hearken the arrival of
A bullet or
A Molotov cocktail

When I say Allahu Akbar
I'm not at a bus stop -
Strapped into a vest that's packed
with plastique and ball bearings
Ready to take the lives of those simply trying to make a living

I do not whisper Allahu Akbar
to accompany the edge of a knife being held against
The neck of any innocent person
simply because I do not agree with their religion

Because Allahu Akbar is not a license
to kill or convert
It is not the translation of "death to all infidels" in any language

Allahu Akbar is not a preamble to an ISIS decapitation
Or  a thief's amputation
Nor is it the mantra of self-righteous religious indignation

However, I did say Allahu Akbar when
my daughter was born - when
her head crowned and i didn't know what it was
and as she burst forth, so did my tears of joy and every last fear

And I said Allahu Akbar right after I cut her  umbilical cord, grateful to be what every father should be: PRESENT

And I say it right after that first sip of water
to break my fast during Ramadan
Especially when it occurs during the long summer months
And I swear I am dying of thirst
and that sple sip ofwater tastes like mercy itself

I said Allahu Akbar when
I saw the unratchit reality of a Black couple loving each other and praying together on tv
When my niece chose to wear a headscarf instead of a mini skirt
When Shaq say "as Salaamu alaikum"
When Mos Def drops a cypher
When Dave Chapelle does a Netflix special

Because Allahu Akbar is NOT for celebrating an IED detonation
But it IS for when the wino stumbles to the door of the mosque instead of the liquor store
And for the kid with autism who eats butter with a spoon like it's ice cream,  when he learns to read and tie his own shoe

It's for after you hydroplane on the highway, life flashing before you,  as you skid safely back to dry asphalt just the end-credits of your life start rolling

Allahu Akbar is for when
It rains in Southern California
And snows in San Antonio

For the last payment of your student loan,
And for the ex-convict who finds a job and can actually buy a home

Allahu Akbar does not seek your demise or downfall
It does not mow down atheists
Or oblivious shoppers in African malls

Any more than "In God We Trust" can be called the mantra of those 500 pound bombs
that we drop on little Afghan girls

Any more than the Army gift wrapping Gideon Bibles
In blankets full of small  pox as gifts to Natives  inspired the  national as anthem

Any more than the greeting of "mazel tov"
Was meant to invite Rachel Corrie
To her grave when she met the Israeli
Bulldozer that smashed her permanently into Palestine soil

I said Allahu Akbar when Danette's pregnancy test came back positive
After the malice of an ex wife killed my last one

I say Allahu Akbar for the butterfly
That has to break out of a cocoon made of silk
Silk being the strongest textiles ever

And it  yet has to do it alone
Because If you come by and try to help, you will actually kill the butterfly

We say Allahu Akbar
Because struggle is the theme of life

I said Allahu Akbar as I stood not so bravely
in the middle of a grave burying my sister in an islamic funeral
When they handed me her dead body
She was so light, like the weight  of the world was finally off of her shoulders...
Allahu Akbar that we don't drop her
Allahu Akbar as we lay her in the dirt
Wrapped up like a gift we are giving back to God with her face turned towards Mecca
Allahu Akbar as we throw our handfuls of dirt
As we walk away leaving prayers in our wake

I say Allahu Akbar about a hundred times a day
It has taught me to weave poetry into patience
Instead of into a eulogy
It has taught me to unclench my fist, and  ungrit my teeth
And learn how to
Just
Breathe


But inexplicably, Allahu Akbar has become
a paradox of paranoia, absurd
Of ugly and loud extremist voices that
Gargle and garble this beautiful word

Words that proceed the suicidal slaughter
Of insecure cowards who think
They will end up martyrs

They won't.

But God remains
Greater than everything we can think of
Or ever endeavor to try to say

And if only our hearts would just simply stay
striving and struggling to utter those beautiful words

In more and more better and beautiful ways...!

Over IT

Like that last tribe of Israel
My past in invisible
My original name has been left behind
And my bloodline lies fossilized

In the ruins of grown over slave quarters
That they forget to talk about on Tuesday plantation tours

That all men ware created equal has always
Been a bit of a White Lie
Most days, were still trying to find
That remaining 2/5ths of humanity

They like to say: That's not today, so get over it already
But that's not likely to happen until I take my story back

The one that they tell about:

Buck-toothed rabbits in the briar patch
Pickininnies with bare feet and braided plaits

Black bird buffoons in Saturday morning cartoons

And in Tarzan movies with white midgets in blackface
Pretending to be pygmies

See, nobody else will ever get YOUR story right
Everybody still dreams of a White Christmas

But Black Ice...
Is dangerous and insidious

They like to say: That's just not today
But let's be honest:
Ebola only became a problem when it started leaving Africa

They say that just isn't today

But

Were still living the aftermath of the Middle Passage
The black doll is still ugly
Good hair is still not ours
And good skin is still the color
Of a paper bag

But they still say
That's not today

Why, just look at how one of us got away:
Over the fence
Across the lawn
And into the White House

And after 8 years I do often wonder
How many times was Barack mistaken for the butler

They like to say: Just get over it
But how can I? When my memories keep getting shot down in Mississippi driveways
Kidnapped out of windows 

Choked by barbed wire
Chained and dragged down Jasper roads

No.

Not while my soul bleeds out through bullet holes
That drip ruby red dreams 

That fall
Drop
by
Drop
In Fruitvale and Ferguson

Not until they tell the truth about the World Trade Center...

How before it fell

It sat tall on the
Forgotten graves of Black servants and slaves

Not until my future
Is finally off parole 

Not until they stop taking advantage

Of my salt, sugar and relaxer addictions

And stop creating bullshit like potato chips
that taste like waffles and chicken

Not until they see that Dred Scott still lives
In liquor stores on too many corners 

Selling too much vodka 

With too many candy flavors

They like to say that that is not the way it
Is these days

Co-opting the hell out of MLK

But I can't believe them 

Because Fun-Town is still closed
and Black clouds still darken my daughter's sky

You can never tell where you're going

Without looking back at the footprints 

Of where you used to be

So when they say:

That's not today, so get over it

I tell them:
I'm not getting over shit-

Until IT is finally OVER