9/11 Poetic Reflections

some 9/11 poetic reflections...
15 years ago...
caspian crude rude
(for lyn z and booker t. coleman)
“When the master’s catches on fire,
I’m praying for a wind to come…”
                 Malcolm X
cocka-doodle doooooo!
mutha fucka!
o say can u see
past those stars and stripes
that left us hangin from southern trees
hunted dead flesh
for the birds to pluck
ripped open angry wounds
for the winds to suck…
stuck in these cities
with fake leaders on their knees
beggin for personal handouts
in a southern breeze…
see how it all blew back
in their racist faces on 9/11
and the bloods who pulled it off
wasn’t even packin guns…
u mean, u don’t know why
somebody took their erected
twin-towered obelisks
to their selfish god of monopoly capital
rt outta the sky
left the famous ny city skyline
missin a whole bleary bluegreen eye
dropped them iron and steelmeltin hot
in just one try
into toxic heaps of lung scorching dust
on ground they desecrated with yr ancestors
chained bones and rust
all along what should be their wall street of shame?
u let this man tell u how somebody else is ‘evil’?...
this beast who used the last five centuries
to perfect genocide
this beast who brought yr ancestors here
in the blood and shitcaked
middle passages of slaveships
sent yr elders off to war in Europe
in the hot sardine segregated
hulls of warships
this beast who initiated his sons into rulership
by violating the sacred thighs of yr foremothers
this beast who destroys everybody and everything
he can’t understand and control
who stole and who continues to steal the soul
who broke the mold
of savagery and sin…
this vicious disease spreader…
got u worried about what’s in yr mailbox
wd rather u forget what they did with smallpox
and don’t forget that poison powder
that he dropped in the ‘hood
that no good
put that in yr thanksgiving turkey and stuff it….
this lo-life landgrabber
this sick sadistic saturation bomber
this thieving s & l scammer
this baldheaded bigoted ballot box plunderer
this beast who slaughtered and jailed yr true leaders
reduced u to sad blind consuming
selfhatin intellectual masturbatin
pleading to stay close to him
during these ‘frightening’ times
and all that he amassed
by takin from u and everybody else
like he’s gonna protect u
and don’t let powell’s presence
clog yr brain’s colon
with that nigerian blood and oil drenched
whitebleached con-da-least-of us rice!
uncle sam and aunt jemima
made over with less than twice the price
of a barrel of raw Caspian crude…
don’t mean to be rude
cocka doodle dooo!
and i aint tryin to be funny
just follow the money
and i don’t have to say what malcolm sd
abt kennedy in ‘63
cuz the people done already sd it
plus i got sense enuf to know
that i aint amerikkkan and  i aint free…
don’t believe me?
listen to their facisthoofed
drumbeat of homeland security
read how they gonna act
with their 2001 patriot act
and u sittin there with that flag stuck in yr lapel
talkin abt we are under attack?!
they are under attack!
and for all their holocaust crimes
it’s a wonder it took this long
for somebody to strike’m back
like that!...
this beast who mined afrikan playgrounds
left a million dead in iraq
when it came to the rwandan genocide
he dognosed pointedly turned his back
drenched central and south america
with bloodletting death squad
all made in the usa
launderin drug money to the tune of billions
packin u.s. prisons with the flesh of black youth
by the millions…
word is bond, aint tryin to be funny
just follow the money
gather yr wits and peep who benefits
from all this…
and u let this beast
tell u about somebody else
being ‘evil’?!...
must be outta yr afrikan mind…
don’t let this empire bloodied flag
leave u blind
to this sinister slick oilrunnin coup
pulled off by this private callous carlisle crew
where oil, finance,  militarism and white supremecy
all come together
somewhere between airline, defense plant and oil stock
somewhere between ny, dc
and the blackgold bloodied blue caspian sea…
and it’s a shame u can’t see
past this toxic dawn’s early polluted light
him, them, for what they truly are
this, for what it
truly is
u, me, us, for what we
can truly be…
o say can u see
past these bloody stars and stripes
left us hangin from southern trees
haunted dead flesh
for the birds to pluck
angry open wounds
for the winds to suck…
stuck in their cities
with fake leaders on their knees
beggin for personal handouts in a southern breeze…
see how it all blew back
rt in their faces on 9/11
and the bloods that pulled it off
wasn’t even packin guns…
cocka-doodle dooooo!...mutha fucka!...
©2001 all rights reserved

The other 9/11...The CIA overthrow of the democratically elected
socialist Salvador Allende...Watch Venezuela and Brazil real close...

The crying grass
(for the late Victor Jara,* Pablo Neruda
and Salvador Allende)
by ‘bro. zayid’
In this stadium
of footlaunched spotted balls
of what should be promising soccer stars…
In this stadium
reeking with the stench of terror
and the numbing sounds of death…
In this stadium
whose horror riddled circling winds
and repelled the doves and the sparrows…
In this stadium
echoing with insane insistent
martial march of hardhoofed soldiers
primed for fleshopening madness…
In this stadium
of gagged people’s poems
of throat slashed people’s songs
their bloodmuffled melodies
missing their companion audience’s eyes
repelling the wings and the whistles
of the doves and the sparrows
with their blood splatter
on our faces and our shirts…
In this stadium
haunted with the harrowed harmonies
of a guitar played with krushed fingers
and a bayoneted heart…
In this stadium
of paraded corpses and paralyzed eyes
of long lines of skulls
freshly popped open in the back by gunfire…
In this stadium
where democracy was lynched
by imperialism’s sanctioned
and uniformed
and then buried in an anonymous heap…
There were no heroes here…
Only the massacred and martrys…
Their bleeding breathless torsos
had just watered the crying grass
and their stars had just been
shot thru the eye in the sky…
In this stadium…
In this stadium
there were no promising soccer stars
to behold
No footlaunched spotted balls finding goals
No tickets to be bought and sold
No fans on hand to cheer
No smiling confetti
sparkling for all to hear
No cameras rolling and snapping
to capture what happened
in that horrific vomitous moment…
In this stadium
In this stadium
In this stadium
barking and cracking with orders to fire
and the gutsplitting bursts of bullets
There were no heroes…
Their bloodied breathless torsos
had already watered the crying grass
and their stars once heated with hope
had already been shot
thru the eye in the sky…
*Chilean people’s artist Victor Jara
Killed in a stadium massacre in a purge that accompanied the CIA sponsored military overthrow of the democratically elected socialist president
Salvador Allende in September 1973…Several thousand Allende supporters were rounded up by the military at a
soccer stadium and slaughtered in a mass execution…
Augusto Pinochet, who emerged Chile’s dictator for years, is responsible for over 3000 killings and the torture of over 30,000. There was a recent effort to have Pedro Pablo Barrientos Nunez, one of his surviving officers believed to have directly responsible for the beating and shooting of Jara, held liable for his role Jara’s death in this massacre…
©1999 all rights
From: zayid muhammad babazayid@yahoo.com
Sent: Saturday, September 10, 2016 9:44 PM

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