A Memorial Day Reverie
by Rudolph Lewis, editor: Chickenbones, a journal
The night is cool. There is a pregnant half moon at midnight casting shadows on the lawn. There are breezes in the pines and the oaks. A whippoorwill is in the southern woods. A bird whistles in the dark. In the cemetery hickory nesting are mockingbirds that utter a peep every now and then. The coolness has stilled the insect symphony and the choruses of tree frogs. No rain is expected until next week. So it has been a week of cool nights and warm days, though today it got up to about 90 or so. My room was hot, so I was in and out, away from the computer and working on my website. My automobile is in the shop so I have had to wander about the house -- in and out of Mama's room watching a movie here and there.
I also sat on the porch awhile and read a chapter of The Dark Heathenism of the American Novelist Ishmael Reed by Pierre-Damien Mvuyekure, which involves Reed's literary criticisms of Eurocentric monoculturalism and violence and how he counters it with HooDoo. While there in that mindframe there were those who were visiting the dead, putting flowers on the graves of th dead and the telling of stories about them. As Marvin X reminded me with his Memorial Day poem, most of us black folk treat this holiday muck like All Soul's Day in New Orleans.
We do not deal with it as a day for the military dead. All our lives have been like a war, I suppose, especially when one lives in urban centers. I lived through the "rebellions" of 1968 while in Baltimore and in Harlem. Lived through the wars that the police made on the black community post-1968, and the rise of petty drug gangs of survival. Black youngsters filling up local prisons so that they are now bursting at the seams. Lived through the traditions of RIPs painted on abandoned houses in the slum areas.
I have escaped that world for at least a year now. Here, in the countryside, some come down from the cities to remember their dead. They bring their hoes and brooms and clean around and off the graves. This church cemetery began in 1948. There are two former slaves buried here and more sons and daughters of slaves buried here. So visitors to the cemetery wander about looking at tombstones and vaults of not just their immediate kin. This kind of activity will be going on through Monday. Of course, there are some family cemeteries as well. Some of them are overgrown with bush and trees. And some of the very old ones have been plowed under.
To while my time away, I have seen a lot of John Wayne movies, well, at least, three. One was a rendition of the Alamo Story and the last one about Wayne as a HUAC agent spying on and arresting Communists in Hawaii. I suppose if I didn't know about Du Bois, Robeson, and Langston Hughes, I would see John Wayne as very heroic. My last movie for the day was the 1933 version of King Kong. I've seen it before but experience always allows us to look at such films with fresh eyes. This time the film reminded me of 9/11 and its aftermath. It had similar props and themes: urban terrorism with white women falling from tall buildings; civilization vs primtivism; the significance of air power defeating urban terrorists; the easy defeat and exploitation of Third World peoples, cultures, and wildlife. Of course, we never get to know these people. They are wearing strange garments and dancing around fires and uttering Voodoo words.
Kong was removed from his natural habitat and carried to New York so that the lead character, a Barnum & Bailey, could exploit him as one of Nature's freaks, as the 8th Wonder of the World, exploited much like the South African woman on display in 19th century France. Kong's blind attraction to Western beauty led to his death, a fall from a high place, much like Sadaam Hussein. Maybe beauty killing the beast will be the case with Iraq as well. Our President tells us rather plainly and dryly that we can expect more death and destruction there. He's like a father. So brace ourselves for the inevitable. He assures us nevertheless that we must have faith in our military technology to do the job to bring the oil home. That the 3000 dead (so far) will be redeemed. One longs indeed to have respect for and faith in one's fathers.
Maybe it will be as Father Bush and the militarists say. I doubt it. Memorial days come and go. We will have another one next year, if we are here. Maybe the 3000 will not have doubled. But I suppose we Americans must have our hero myths, even if they are built on Hollywood actors like Ronald Reagan and John Wayne. But I think we need to explore them more deeply. We need more dancing. Have you ever seem Ron or John Wayne do the twist. But the West mocks the Sun Dance, the boogaloo, Juba, and the Congo. Our inflexible world is becoming more and more costly, socially disruptive, and deadly. We do have our military dead here at Jerusalem--from WWI, WWII. Korea, and Vietnam As far as I know we have none from the Middle East wars. Such wars are, however, endless so there is still that possibility.The moon still cast shadows. Whippoorwill stll sings his songs as the earth and the morning cool. Like most Americans I feel rather helpless in the matter of our foreign wars and our global plans to dominate the planet. That I am a registered voter seems rather meaningless. That I am thoughtful only causes my blues to have an edge. Reed says writing is fighting. But I am losing confidence in that too. I looked over the revised percentages:
30% Bush loyalists, most of whom have the tradition "slave mentality" of the white middle-class
30% Passionate true believers, but susceptible to propagands and capble of 180 degree turns
30% Fence sitters, cynics, opportunists
10% People who are capable of intelligent analysis
Well that kind of political grouping saddens me indeed. It will be difficult to get a word in edge wise with that kind of audience. I am so afraid that the John Wayne movies will win out this Memorial Day. But I still have the silence of the birds and the insects, the sacredness of the fields and forest to give me some comfort and maybe even help me to work some hoodoo. A few friends also send me their musings. So at least I am not alone in these sad times. I am glad that we have persons around like Marvin X. Even in my sadness, he makes me laugh. Maybe he will give you a chuckle too -- Rudy
Memorial Day, 2007
I am a veteran
Not of foreign battlefields
Like my father in world war one
My uncles in world war two
And Korea
Or my friends from Vietnam
And even the Congo “police action”
But veteran none the less
Exiled and jailed because I refused
To visit Vietnam as a running dog for imperialism
So I visited Canada , Mexico and Belize
Then Federal prison for a minute
But veteran I am of the war in the hood
The war of domestic colonialism and neo-colonialism
White supremacy in black face war
Fighting for black power that turned white
Or was always white as in the other white people
So war it was and is
Every day without end no RR no respite just war
For colors like kindergarten children war
For turf warriors don’t own and run when popo comes
War for drugs and guns and women
War for hatred jealousy
Dante got a scholarship but couldn’t get on the plane
The boyz in the hood met him on the block and jacked him
Relieved him of his gear shot him in the head because he could read
Play basketball had all the pretty girls a square
The boyz wanted him dead like themselves
Wanted him to have a shrine with liquor bottles and teddy bears
And candles
Wanted his mama and daddy to weep and mourn at the funeral
Like all the other moms and dads and uncle aunts cousins
Why should he make it out the war zone
The blood and broken bones of war in the hood
No veterans day no benefits no mental health sessions
No conversation who cares who wants to know about the dead
In the hood
the warriors gone down in the ghetto night
We heard the Uzi at 3am and saw the body on the steps until 3 pm
When the coroner finally arrived as children passed from school
I am the veteran of ghetto wars of liberation that were aborted
And morphed into wars of self destruction
With drugs supplied from police vans
Guns diverted from the army base and sold 24/7 behind the Arab store.
Junior is 14 but the main arms merchant in the hood
He sells guns from his backpack
His daddy wants to know how he get all them guns
But Junior don’t tell cause he warrior
He’s lost more friends than I the elder
What can I tell him about death and blood and bones
He says he will get rich or die trying
But life is for love not money
And if he lives he will learn.
If he makes it out the war zone to another world
Where they murder in suits and suites
And golf courses and yachts
if he makes it even beyond this world
He will learn that love is better than money
For he was once on the auction block and sold as a thing
For money, yes, for the love of money but not for love
And so his memory is short and absent of truth
The war in the hood has tricked him into the slave past
Like a programmed monkey he acts out the slave auction
The sale of himself on the corner with his homeys
Trying to pose cool in the war zone
I will tell him the truth and maybe one day it will hit him like a bullet
In the head
It will hit him multiple times in the brain until he awakens to the real battle
In the turf of his mind.
And he will stand tall and deliver himself to the altar of truth to be a witness
Along with his homeys
They will take charge of their posts
They will indeed claim their turf and it will be theirs forever
Not for a moment in the night
But in the day and in the tomorrows
And the war will be over
No more sorrow no more blood and bones
No more shrines on the corner with liquor bottles teddy bears and candles.
--Marvin X
25 May 2007
Brooklyn NY
for the best of marvin x, go to http://www.marvinxwrites.blogspot.com
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Journal of Black Poetry Festival
Notes on the Journal of Black Poetry Festival
The tentative date for the Journal of Black Poetry Festival is late September, 2007.
Purpose: to give honor and respect to Brother Dingane (Jose Goncalves), publisher and editor of the JBP.
The invited poets and planners include Amiri Baraka, Askia Toure, Nikki Giovanni, Sonia Sanchez,Last Poets, Haki Madhubuti, Kalamu Ya Salaam, Amina Baraka, Eugene Redman, Rudolph Lewis, Tureeda, Ayodele Nzinga, Naru, Ptah, Marcel Diallo, Tureeda, Ishmael Reed, Devorah Major, Al Young, Jose Angel Figerora, Nefertiti El Muhajir, Muhammida El Muhajir, Larry Ukali Johnson, Reginald Lockett, Devorah Major, Marvin X.
As per funding, we should consider that the JBP was published independently without corporate or government funding. Shall we continue this tradition of do for self with respect to funding this festival, since this project is a continuation of the cultural revolution that will impact the consciousness of participants, especially the hip hop generation. And why should we beg corporations and foundations to do for us what we should do for ourselves?
If every interested poet would donate a hundred or thousand dollars, we could pull this off independently. If poets would be willing to pay their own airfare and lodging, that would be a nice chunk out of the budget. We have a tentative faciliity at Oakland's Eastside Arts Center. Laney College is nearby and we expect the students at Laney's Club Knowledge to be a part of the planning to insure the hip hop generation is represented in this intergenerational gathering.
Anyway, tell me your thoughts on funding, agenda and expected outcome.
Please respond to me at http://www.marvinxwrites.blogspot.com
The tentative date for the Journal of Black Poetry Festival is late September, 2007.
Purpose: to give honor and respect to Brother Dingane (Jose Goncalves), publisher and editor of the JBP.
The invited poets and planners include Amiri Baraka, Askia Toure, Nikki Giovanni, Sonia Sanchez,Last Poets, Haki Madhubuti, Kalamu Ya Salaam, Amina Baraka, Eugene Redman, Rudolph Lewis, Tureeda, Ayodele Nzinga, Naru, Ptah, Marcel Diallo, Tureeda, Ishmael Reed, Devorah Major, Al Young, Jose Angel Figerora, Nefertiti El Muhajir, Muhammida El Muhajir, Larry Ukali Johnson, Reginald Lockett, Devorah Major, Marvin X.
As per funding, we should consider that the JBP was published independently without corporate or government funding. Shall we continue this tradition of do for self with respect to funding this festival, since this project is a continuation of the cultural revolution that will impact the consciousness of participants, especially the hip hop generation. And why should we beg corporations and foundations to do for us what we should do for ourselves?
If every interested poet would donate a hundred or thousand dollars, we could pull this off independently. If poets would be willing to pay their own airfare and lodging, that would be a nice chunk out of the budget. We have a tentative faciliity at Oakland's Eastside Arts Center. Laney College is nearby and we expect the students at Laney's Club Knowledge to be a part of the planning to insure the hip hop generation is represented in this intergenerational gathering.
Anyway, tell me your thoughts on funding, agenda and expected outcome.
Please respond to me at http://www.marvinxwrites.blogspot.com
San Francisco Chronicle Talks With Marvin X
BLACK HISTORY MONTH: Artist Profile MARVIN X
Daniel King
Friday, February 24, 2006
San Francisco Chronicle
For Black History Month, Datebook has interviewed 20 Bay Area African American artists about their creative processes, influences and goals. The profiles will run Monday through Friday this month.
In the mid-1960s, playwright Marvin X founded the Black House, the Black Education Theater and many other San Francisco stages that served as headquarters for the Black Arts Movement.
In 2004, X put on the Tenderloin Book Fair and University of Poetry, a sprawling daylong lit fest. Now 61, he's writing a book about Islamic history in the Bay Area and is writing a play with Dead Prez. He is scheduled to appear at Bang4Change, a human rights festival, from noon to 5 p.m. Saturday at San Francisco's Civic Center Plaza. At 6 p.m., he'll do standup at Oakland's African American Museum & Library, 659 14th St. (510) 637-0200.
Q: The Black Arts Movement is built on many ideals. Which, for you, are the strongest?
A: The Black Arts Movement is about consciousness-raising music and literature. It's about the Paul Robeson concept of the artistic freedom fighter; about making statements that saturate the political nervous system.
Q: You've been called a radical activist. What would you tell a group of 20-year-old playwrights if they said they don't care about radicalism?
A: I would say what Mao Zedong said: "Let a hundred schools of thought contend." I don't want anything to do with them. Go do your thing. I've got a mission to actually change something. Like Bush said, you with me or against me. Contrary to Bush, the main addiction in America is not oil, it's white supremacy. That's the addiction from which all other addictions spring. Deal with the problem of supremacy, and you'll solve the greed for oil, the murder for oil. That's what's radical to me. We need a thousand Frantz Fanons, and white people need to have a 12-step supremacy-recovery program. Go in, have a detox. Maybe it'll help you, and us.
Q: Do you think hip-hop is to black culture now what jazz in the '60s was to the Black Arts Movement?
A: No! Jazz in the '60s was aligned with the freedom struggle, the music of Archie Shepp, Pharoah Sanders. It was liberation music. Hip-hop don't have that, at least not on BET, MTV. That's because the ruling class don't want people awake. They want people asleep. ... I grew up in a politically charged household. My parents were involved in the NAACP and published a black newspaper in Fresno, so it's not strange for me to be politically conscious.
Q: What do you think about the concept of Black History Month?
A: Now people are writing about the Black Arts Movement. But you won't dare invite the originators, who are still alive. You don't want them around because that would reveal your contradictions.
Daniel King
Friday, February 24, 2006
San Francisco Chronicle
For Black History Month, Datebook has interviewed 20 Bay Area African American artists about their creative processes, influences and goals. The profiles will run Monday through Friday this month.
In the mid-1960s, playwright Marvin X founded the Black House, the Black Education Theater and many other San Francisco stages that served as headquarters for the Black Arts Movement.
In 2004, X put on the Tenderloin Book Fair and University of Poetry, a sprawling daylong lit fest. Now 61, he's writing a book about Islamic history in the Bay Area and is writing a play with Dead Prez. He is scheduled to appear at Bang4Change, a human rights festival, from noon to 5 p.m. Saturday at San Francisco's Civic Center Plaza. At 6 p.m., he'll do standup at Oakland's African American Museum & Library, 659 14th St. (510) 637-0200.
Q: The Black Arts Movement is built on many ideals. Which, for you, are the strongest?
A: The Black Arts Movement is about consciousness-raising music and literature. It's about the Paul Robeson concept of the artistic freedom fighter; about making statements that saturate the political nervous system.
Q: You've been called a radical activist. What would you tell a group of 20-year-old playwrights if they said they don't care about radicalism?
A: I would say what Mao Zedong said: "Let a hundred schools of thought contend." I don't want anything to do with them. Go do your thing. I've got a mission to actually change something. Like Bush said, you with me or against me. Contrary to Bush, the main addiction in America is not oil, it's white supremacy. That's the addiction from which all other addictions spring. Deal with the problem of supremacy, and you'll solve the greed for oil, the murder for oil. That's what's radical to me. We need a thousand Frantz Fanons, and white people need to have a 12-step supremacy-recovery program. Go in, have a detox. Maybe it'll help you, and us.
Q: Do you think hip-hop is to black culture now what jazz in the '60s was to the Black Arts Movement?
A: No! Jazz in the '60s was aligned with the freedom struggle, the music of Archie Shepp, Pharoah Sanders. It was liberation music. Hip-hop don't have that, at least not on BET, MTV. That's because the ruling class don't want people awake. They want people asleep. ... I grew up in a politically charged household. My parents were involved in the NAACP and published a black newspaper in Fresno, so it's not strange for me to be politically conscious.
Q: What do you think about the concept of Black History Month?
A: Now people are writing about the Black Arts Movement. But you won't dare invite the originators, who are still alive. You don't want them around because that would reveal your contradictions.
Comment on Marvin X's Letter to Iraq's Minister of Oil
Comment on Marvin X's Letter to Iraq's Minister of Oil
by Ayaba Bey
Excellent outreach. We need to do more of this. Hands across the ocean to our affiliates and friends in other countries. Our Native American kin should be brought into the fold on these types of ideas. They have untapped resources because of a lack of funds and collaboration. They do not have to rely on American corporations to do for them, but they need developmental assistance and it is time to unify the Black, Red, Brown and Yellow people of the world, as the Whites by way of the European Union, have so boldly claimed to be doing. The rest of the world's people do not seem to see any problem with this action on their part. But it is a bold and arrogant act against the rest of the world's people to only unite with your own kind and tell the rest of the world that we are wrong for trying to do the same! Some of us are grand children of Native Americans and we need to increase our contact and support of them . Numbers mean everything.
"That which you seek is seeking you"
by Ayaba Bey
Excellent outreach. We need to do more of this. Hands across the ocean to our affiliates and friends in other countries. Our Native American kin should be brought into the fold on these types of ideas. They have untapped resources because of a lack of funds and collaboration. They do not have to rely on American corporations to do for them, but they need developmental assistance and it is time to unify the Black, Red, Brown and Yellow people of the world, as the Whites by way of the European Union, have so boldly claimed to be doing. The rest of the world's people do not seem to see any problem with this action on their part. But it is a bold and arrogant act against the rest of the world's people to only unite with your own kind and tell the rest of the world that we are wrong for trying to do the same! Some of us are grand children of Native Americans and we need to increase our contact and support of them . Numbers mean everything.
"That which you seek is seeking you"
Freedom of Speech and Black Liberation
Freedom of Speech and Black Liberation
I declined to speak at a college recently because the subject had to do with freedom of speech in an indirect way because I was asked to talk about the Black House, the political/cultural center I co-founded with Eldridge Cleaver, Ed Bullins and Ethna X. Wyatt (Hurriyah) in San Francisco, 1967. The Black Arts Movement and the Black Liberation Movement were about freedom, including freedom of speech. BAM people went to jail or were threatened with jail if we went ahead with our productions at Black Arts/West Theatre and elsewhere, so how could I discuss the Black House which was a center for freedom, in a lecture where I would be censored. To me, this is a contradiction. Don't ask me to discuss freedom while in shackles.
Yes, students need to know the history because there are far too many revisionist versions floating around in PhD theses and other works, but we bled to write and speak the truth, in the language we saw fit. I am and shall remain out of the box. I am not concered about political correctness and sensitivity, but, as Sun Ra taught me, the low down dirty truth, yeah, the funky truth. As James Brown sang, "Ain't it funky now." And Dr. Cornel West says, "Every body wants to hide the funk, tame the funk, disguise the funk, but we are only authentic and original when the funk comes through. And that's why we love Fannie Lou Hamer, Elijah Muhammad and Martin Luther King, Jr., they kept the funk in place...."
--Marvin X
I declined to speak at a college recently because the subject had to do with freedom of speech in an indirect way because I was asked to talk about the Black House, the political/cultural center I co-founded with Eldridge Cleaver, Ed Bullins and Ethna X. Wyatt (Hurriyah) in San Francisco, 1967. The Black Arts Movement and the Black Liberation Movement were about freedom, including freedom of speech. BAM people went to jail or were threatened with jail if we went ahead with our productions at Black Arts/West Theatre and elsewhere, so how could I discuss the Black House which was a center for freedom, in a lecture where I would be censored. To me, this is a contradiction. Don't ask me to discuss freedom while in shackles.
Yes, students need to know the history because there are far too many revisionist versions floating around in PhD theses and other works, but we bled to write and speak the truth, in the language we saw fit. I am and shall remain out of the box. I am not concered about political correctness and sensitivity, but, as Sun Ra taught me, the low down dirty truth, yeah, the funky truth. As James Brown sang, "Ain't it funky now." And Dr. Cornel West says, "Every body wants to hide the funk, tame the funk, disguise the funk, but we are only authentic and original when the funk comes through. And that's why we love Fannie Lou Hamer, Elijah Muhammad and Martin Luther King, Jr., they kept the funk in place...."
--Marvin X
No Freedom, No Speak
Brother Marvin,
I am writing for two reasons. One is to commend you on the plan to honor the legendary Dingane in late September 2007. Although I never published any work in the Journal of Black Poetry, I consider Dingane one of my mentors. When I was preparing to self publish my poetry book "Red Sun Songs," I went to Dingane for advice and counsel. After I reached out to him, Dingane helped me and I will never forget it. He always gave me strong words of encouragement wheneverI went to see him at New Day Bookstore. Thus, you can certainly count on me to make a contribution of at least $100 for this event.
Secondly, I am writing about the speaking engagement we have discussed. I would like to bring you to campus on February 20, 2007 to participate in a seminar on Black cultural centers in the Bay Area during the1960s. The seminar will take place on February 20,2007 from 6:30-9:30 pm. It will feature two speakers, namely you and Fritz Pointer. I want you to focus your presentation on "The Black House," which you founded with Eldridge Cleaver. I want you to give us a detailed history about the Black House in terms of the who, what, when, where, how, and why. Fritz and Dave "Mudavanha" Patterson founded thePan-African Cultural Center in Oakland. Fritz has been informed that I want him to us a detailed history about the Pan-African Cultural Center in terms of the who, what, when, where, how, and why. It is important that we document the history of these two important Black cultural centers and the role they played in theBlack Arts Movement and the Black Power Movement. The seminar will be presented under the auspices ofthe W. E. B. Du Bois Lecture Series. Your honorarium is going to be $400. Please note that there can be no use of profanity or racial slurs, including theN-word. I saw that you recently wrote a piece about the use of the N-word. I hope that you can agree to these terms and I certainly want you to participate and bring your special insight on this matter. As you know, you have certainly been a mentor to me since the early 1980s. Please respond as soon as possible.
Yours in the struggle,
Vern
Note: Marvin X declined this speaking engagement and will all others without a freedom of speech clause in the contract, even for a million dollars, hmmmmmm. MX
Brother Marvin,
I am writing for two reasons. One is to commend you on the plan to honor the legendary Dingane in late September 2007. Although I never published any work in the Journal of Black Poetry, I consider Dingane one of my mentors. When I was preparing to self publish my poetry book "Red Sun Songs," I went to Dingane for advice and counsel. After I reached out to him, Dingane helped me and I will never forget it. He always gave me strong words of encouragement wheneverI went to see him at New Day Bookstore. Thus, you can certainly count on me to make a contribution of at least $100 for this event.
Secondly, I am writing about the speaking engagement we have discussed. I would like to bring you to campus on February 20, 2007 to participate in a seminar on Black cultural centers in the Bay Area during the1960s. The seminar will take place on February 20,2007 from 6:30-9:30 pm. It will feature two speakers, namely you and Fritz Pointer. I want you to focus your presentation on "The Black House," which you founded with Eldridge Cleaver. I want you to give us a detailed history about the Black House in terms of the who, what, when, where, how, and why. Fritz and Dave "Mudavanha" Patterson founded thePan-African Cultural Center in Oakland. Fritz has been informed that I want him to us a detailed history about the Pan-African Cultural Center in terms of the who, what, when, where, how, and why. It is important that we document the history of these two important Black cultural centers and the role they played in theBlack Arts Movement and the Black Power Movement. The seminar will be presented under the auspices ofthe W. E. B. Du Bois Lecture Series. Your honorarium is going to be $400. Please note that there can be no use of profanity or racial slurs, including theN-word. I saw that you recently wrote a piece about the use of the N-word. I hope that you can agree to these terms and I certainly want you to participate and bring your special insight on this matter. As you know, you have certainly been a mentor to me since the early 1980s. Please respond as soon as possible.
Yours in the struggle,
Vern
Note: Marvin X declined this speaking engagement and will all others without a freedom of speech clause in the contract, even for a million dollars, hmmmmmm. MX
Friday, May 25, 2007
Marvin X Live On Video
Marvin X Live On Video
Now available on DVD:
Marvin X On Domestic Violence (Morehouse College, ATL)
The Kings and Queens of Black Consciousness, San Francisco State University
Marvin X at the Berkeley Black Repertory Group Theatre, Berkeley
Marvin X, In the Crazy House Called America Concert, Buriel Clay Theatre, San Francisco
Marvin X Talks With Fillmore Slim at the Black Radical Book Fair, San Francisco
Marvin X at the Barber Shop (Git Yo Mind Right)
Marvin X Live In Philly At Warm Daddies
One Day In The Life, a docudrama of addiction and recovery, by Marvin X
Available from Black Bird Press, POB 1317, Paradise CA 95967. Send $14.95, plus $5.00 for priority mailing.
Samples on www.youtube.com
Marvin X on White Supremacy
Get Yo Mind Rite
Now available on DVD:
Marvin X On Domestic Violence (Morehouse College, ATL)
The Kings and Queens of Black Consciousness, San Francisco State University
Marvin X at the Berkeley Black Repertory Group Theatre, Berkeley
Marvin X, In the Crazy House Called America Concert, Buriel Clay Theatre, San Francisco
Marvin X Talks With Fillmore Slim at the Black Radical Book Fair, San Francisco
Marvin X at the Barber Shop (Git Yo Mind Right)
Marvin X Live In Philly At Warm Daddies
One Day In The Life, a docudrama of addiction and recovery, by Marvin X
Available from Black Bird Press, POB 1317, Paradise CA 95967. Send $14.95, plus $5.00 for priority mailing.
Samples on www.youtube.com
Marvin X on White Supremacy
Get Yo Mind Rite
A Dangerous Book
Beyond Religion, Toward Spirituality by Marvin X
It's a dangerous book, for it reveals the inner workings of capitalist and imperialist governments around the world. It's a book that stands with and on behalf of the poor, the dispossessed, the despised, and downtrodden.
--Rudolph Lewis, Editor, Chickenbones.com
It's a dangerous book, for it reveals the inner workings of capitalist and imperialist governments around the world. It's a book that stands with and on behalf of the poor, the dispossessed, the despised, and downtrodden.
--Rudolph Lewis, Editor, Chickenbones.com
Memorial Day, 2007
I am a veteran
Not of foreign battlefields
Like my father in world war one
My uncles in world war two
And Korea
Or my friends from Vietnam
And even the Congo “police action”
But veteran none the less
Exiled and jailed because I refused
To visit Vietnam as a running dog for imperialism
So I visited Canada, Mexico and Belize
Then Federal prison for a minute
But veteran I am of the war in the hood
The war of domestic colonialism and neo-colonialism
White supremacy in black face war
Fighting for black power that turned white
Or was always white as in the other white people
So war it was and is
Every day without end no RR no respite just war
For colors like kindergarten children war
For turf warriors don’t own and run when popo comes
War for drugs and guns and women
War for hatred jealousy
Dante got a scholarship but couldn’t get on the plane
The boyz in the hood met him on the block and jacked him
Relieved him of his gear shot him in the head because he could read
Play basketball had all the pretty girls a square
The boyz wanted him dead like themselves
Wanted him to have a shrine with liquor bottles and teddy bears
And candles
Wanted his mama and daddy to weep and mourn at the funeral
Like all the other moms and dads and uncle aunts cousins
Why should he make it out the war zone
The blood and broken bones of war in the hood
No veterans day no benefits no mental health sessions
No conversation who cares who wants to know about the dead
In the hood
the warriors gone down in the ghetto night
We heard the Uzi at 3am and saw the body on the steps until 3 pm
When the coroner finally arrived as children passed from school
I am the veteran of ghetto wars of liberation that were aborted
And morphed into wars of self destruction
With drugs supplied from police vans
Guns diverted from the army base and sold 24/7 behind the Arab store.
Junior is 14 but the main arms merchant in the hood
He sells guns from his backpack
His daddy wants to know how he get all them guns
But Junior don’t tell cause he warrior
He’s lost more friends than I the elder
What can I tell him about death and blood and bones
He says he will get rich or die trying
But life is for love not money
And if he lives he will learn.
If he makes it out the war zone to another world
Where they murder in suits and suites
And golf courses and yachts
if he makes it even beyond this world
He will learn that love is better than money
For he was once on the auction block and sold as a thing
For money, yes, for the love of money but not for love
And so his memory is short and absent of truth
The war in the hood has tricked him into the slave past
Like a programmed monkey he acts out the slave auction
The sale of himself on the corner with his homeys
Trying to pose cool in the war zone
I will tell him the truth and maybe one day it will hit him like a bullet
In the head
It will hit him multiple times in the brain until he awakens to the real battle
In the turf of his mind.
And he will stand tall and deliver himself to the altar of truth to be a witness
Along with his homeys
They will take charge of their posts
They will indeed claim their turf and it will be theirs forever
Not for a moment in the night
But in the day and in the tomorrows
And the war will be over
No more sorrow no more blood and bones
No more shrines on the corner with liquor bottles teddy bears and candles.
--Marvin X
25 May 2007
Brooklyn NY
for the best of marvin x, go to http://www.marvinxwrites.blogspot.com
I am a veteran
Not of foreign battlefields
Like my father in world war one
My uncles in world war two
And Korea
Or my friends from Vietnam
And even the Congo “police action”
But veteran none the less
Exiled and jailed because I refused
To visit Vietnam as a running dog for imperialism
So I visited Canada, Mexico and Belize
Then Federal prison for a minute
But veteran I am of the war in the hood
The war of domestic colonialism and neo-colonialism
White supremacy in black face war
Fighting for black power that turned white
Or was always white as in the other white people
So war it was and is
Every day without end no RR no respite just war
For colors like kindergarten children war
For turf warriors don’t own and run when popo comes
War for drugs and guns and women
War for hatred jealousy
Dante got a scholarship but couldn’t get on the plane
The boyz in the hood met him on the block and jacked him
Relieved him of his gear shot him in the head because he could read
Play basketball had all the pretty girls a square
The boyz wanted him dead like themselves
Wanted him to have a shrine with liquor bottles and teddy bears
And candles
Wanted his mama and daddy to weep and mourn at the funeral
Like all the other moms and dads and uncle aunts cousins
Why should he make it out the war zone
The blood and broken bones of war in the hood
No veterans day no benefits no mental health sessions
No conversation who cares who wants to know about the dead
In the hood
the warriors gone down in the ghetto night
We heard the Uzi at 3am and saw the body on the steps until 3 pm
When the coroner finally arrived as children passed from school
I am the veteran of ghetto wars of liberation that were aborted
And morphed into wars of self destruction
With drugs supplied from police vans
Guns diverted from the army base and sold 24/7 behind the Arab store.
Junior is 14 but the main arms merchant in the hood
He sells guns from his backpack
His daddy wants to know how he get all them guns
But Junior don’t tell cause he warrior
He’s lost more friends than I the elder
What can I tell him about death and blood and bones
He says he will get rich or die trying
But life is for love not money
And if he lives he will learn.
If he makes it out the war zone to another world
Where they murder in suits and suites
And golf courses and yachts
if he makes it even beyond this world
He will learn that love is better than money
For he was once on the auction block and sold as a thing
For money, yes, for the love of money but not for love
And so his memory is short and absent of truth
The war in the hood has tricked him into the slave past
Like a programmed monkey he acts out the slave auction
The sale of himself on the corner with his homeys
Trying to pose cool in the war zone
I will tell him the truth and maybe one day it will hit him like a bullet
In the head
It will hit him multiple times in the brain until he awakens to the real battle
In the turf of his mind.
And he will stand tall and deliver himself to the altar of truth to be a witness
Along with his homeys
They will take charge of their posts
They will indeed claim their turf and it will be theirs forever
Not for a moment in the night
But in the day and in the tomorrows
And the war will be over
No more sorrow no more blood and bones
No more shrines on the corner with liquor bottles teddy bears and candles.
--Marvin X
25 May 2007
Brooklyn NY
for the best of marvin x, go to http://www.marvinxwrites.blogspot.com
Dear Helen
Helen Davis Makes Transition
Oakland entrepreneur Helen Davis joined the ancestors earlier this week. Helen and husband Charles Davis operated the African boutique Aquarius Rising at 61st and Telegraph, Oakland. Mrs. Davis also sold items on the local cable television show. She was also an actress and board member of the Black Repertory Group Theatre. Funeral services are pending.Helen was related to poet/playwright Marvin X and the two were scheduled to hold a combinded birthday party and book party at Aquarius Rising on Monday, February 19, 3pm. The event is still happening in her honor.
Memorial Celebration
On Friday, March 9, 8pm, the Black Repertory Group Theatre will hold a memorial celebration for Helen.
The following is a letter from Marvin X:
Dear Helen,Cuz, it is with great pain and shock that I learned of your transition earlier this week. My sister Judy informed me, your sister-in-law. Having talked with you on Monday, I am happy to have had our last conversation because it was the essence of your joyful, upbeat spirit, and this is how I shall always remember you. We discussed your birthday party and my upcoming book party at your store on February 19, and I looked forward to the event. Your transition made me want to cancel my public appearances this month, but after talking with your family at the Black Rep, Dr. Scott, Sean and Paula, they assured me you would want the show to go on, after all, they reminded me, we never saw you sad, but always full of joy and happiness--so how can we be sad about your departure--and furthermore, your constant smile and positive attitude will never depart from us. You are now black history, especially the history of regal African women in the Bay.In our last conversation, you mentioned how much you appreciated my latest book BEYOND RELIGION, TOWARD SPIRITUALITY. I told you to tell your television audience every word you said to me, and you promised you would. You said you liked my essay ANCESTORS. As Dr. Nathan Hare teaches, be careful about being an elder, for next you are an ancestor. And so, my beloved sister, my royal queen, you have indeed joined the ancestors. And we shall honor you and love you for eternity.Your comments about my essay THE MEN was inspirational to me. You said you had to call a friend to read it to them. You mentioned my words about how the young men wait in the doorway for father to come home. Yes, father must leave the ho and go home, for in the end the ho will not be with him, but he shall be alone in his iniquity. I call upon all fathers to go home, repair the house, reconcile with your baby's mamas, reconcile with your children, especially your sons, but your daughters as well.Oh, Helen, you and your husband Charles were the perfect couple in my sight. You were the essence of a royal African queen and he was forever at your side as your King, not just in apparel but in fact, for he stood beside you always as you went about your daily round as market woman, selling your wares on cable television and at your boutique, Aquarius Rising.Helen, your ever loving smile, your eternal optimistic persona has blessed the Bay Area with love so desperately needed as it seeks a way out of the cycle of violence and despair due to economic and spiritual poverty.
I am so saddened by your transition, but so happy that I saw you a few days before your departure in the physical. Thanks for being an ever positive force in my life. I pray I can express your joyful, positive spirit. You have my eternal love and respect.Your cuz,
Marvin X
2/8/07
Helen & Charles Davis
Aquarius Raising6036 Telegraph AvenueOakland, CA 94609428-2116
Oakland entrepreneur Helen Davis joined the ancestors earlier this week. Helen and husband Charles Davis operated the African boutique Aquarius Rising at 61st and Telegraph, Oakland. Mrs. Davis also sold items on the local cable television show. She was also an actress and board member of the Black Repertory Group Theatre. Funeral services are pending.Helen was related to poet/playwright Marvin X and the two were scheduled to hold a combinded birthday party and book party at Aquarius Rising on Monday, February 19, 3pm. The event is still happening in her honor.
Memorial Celebration
On Friday, March 9, 8pm, the Black Repertory Group Theatre will hold a memorial celebration for Helen.
The following is a letter from Marvin X:
Dear Helen,Cuz, it is with great pain and shock that I learned of your transition earlier this week. My sister Judy informed me, your sister-in-law. Having talked with you on Monday, I am happy to have had our last conversation because it was the essence of your joyful, upbeat spirit, and this is how I shall always remember you. We discussed your birthday party and my upcoming book party at your store on February 19, and I looked forward to the event. Your transition made me want to cancel my public appearances this month, but after talking with your family at the Black Rep, Dr. Scott, Sean and Paula, they assured me you would want the show to go on, after all, they reminded me, we never saw you sad, but always full of joy and happiness--so how can we be sad about your departure--and furthermore, your constant smile and positive attitude will never depart from us. You are now black history, especially the history of regal African women in the Bay.In our last conversation, you mentioned how much you appreciated my latest book BEYOND RELIGION, TOWARD SPIRITUALITY. I told you to tell your television audience every word you said to me, and you promised you would. You said you liked my essay ANCESTORS. As Dr. Nathan Hare teaches, be careful about being an elder, for next you are an ancestor. And so, my beloved sister, my royal queen, you have indeed joined the ancestors. And we shall honor you and love you for eternity.Your comments about my essay THE MEN was inspirational to me. You said you had to call a friend to read it to them. You mentioned my words about how the young men wait in the doorway for father to come home. Yes, father must leave the ho and go home, for in the end the ho will not be with him, but he shall be alone in his iniquity. I call upon all fathers to go home, repair the house, reconcile with your baby's mamas, reconcile with your children, especially your sons, but your daughters as well.Oh, Helen, you and your husband Charles were the perfect couple in my sight. You were the essence of a royal African queen and he was forever at your side as your King, not just in apparel but in fact, for he stood beside you always as you went about your daily round as market woman, selling your wares on cable television and at your boutique, Aquarius Rising.Helen, your ever loving smile, your eternal optimistic persona has blessed the Bay Area with love so desperately needed as it seeks a way out of the cycle of violence and despair due to economic and spiritual poverty.
I am so saddened by your transition, but so happy that I saw you a few days before your departure in the physical. Thanks for being an ever positive force in my life. I pray I can express your joyful, positive spirit. You have my eternal love and respect.Your cuz,
Marvin X
2/8/07
Helen & Charles Davis
Aquarius Raising6036 Telegraph AvenueOakland, CA 94609428-2116
Letter to Tavis Smiley from Fahizah Alim, 2007
Dear Tavis
Congratulations on your successful annual State of Black America forum earlier this month. I really wanted to be there in person. I had hoped to travel to Virginia with Mrs. West, but I was scheduled to take my son to visit Morehouse the next week and had too much on my plate. So I'll have to be content to watch you at 1 a.m.(yes 1 a.m) on our local PBS station.
I am writing this letter to introduce you to author Marvin X as a noteworthy guest on your talk shows. He has been around a long time writing provocative, insightful and brilliant prose, poetry and essays. So long infact, that he has been dubbed the "Father of American Muslim Literature." He also was one of the founders of the Black Arts Movement along with Amiri Baraka, Sonia Sanchez and Nikki Giovanni, and has been writing important books for 40 years. Cornel calls him "Marvelous Marvin X."
He is a brother from the Academy and The Streets, walking as one politician said "through the muck and mire of hell and came out clean as white fish and black as coal."
His writings are cathartic and healing, targeting issues that cross the spectrum of the African American experience. I have profiled him before and he is a great interview.
We have already sent you some of his books. I hope that you see what I see.
Peace and Blessings
Fahizah Alim
Congratulations on your successful annual State of Black America forum earlier this month. I really wanted to be there in person. I had hoped to travel to Virginia with Mrs. West, but I was scheduled to take my son to visit Morehouse the next week and had too much on my plate. So I'll have to be content to watch you at 1 a.m.(yes 1 a.m) on our local PBS station.
I am writing this letter to introduce you to author Marvin X as a noteworthy guest on your talk shows. He has been around a long time writing provocative, insightful and brilliant prose, poetry and essays. So long infact, that he has been dubbed the "Father of American Muslim Literature." He also was one of the founders of the Black Arts Movement along with Amiri Baraka, Sonia Sanchez and Nikki Giovanni, and has been writing important books for 40 years. Cornel calls him "Marvelous Marvin X."
He is a brother from the Academy and The Streets, walking as one politician said "through the muck and mire of hell and came out clean as white fish and black as coal."
His writings are cathartic and healing, targeting issues that cross the spectrum of the African American experience. I have profiled him before and he is a great interview.
We have already sent you some of his books. I hope that you see what I see.
Peace and Blessings
Fahizah Alim
A Marvin X Classic: Black History Is World History
BLACK HISTORY IS WORLD HISTORY
By Marvin X
Before the Earth was
I was
Before time was
I was
you found me not long ago
and called me Lucy
I was four million years old
I had my tools beside me
I am the first man
call me Adam
I walked the Nile from Congo to Delta
a 4,000 mile jog
BLACK HISTORY IS WORLD HISTORY
I lived in the land of Canaan
before Abraham, before Hebrew was born
I am Canaan, son of Ham
I laugh at Arabs and Jews
fighting over my land
I lived in Saba, Southern Arabia
I played in the Red Sea
dwelled on the Persian Gulf
I left my mark from Babylon to Timbuktu
When Babylon acted a fool, that was me
I was the fool
When Babylon fell, that was me
I fell
BLACK HISTORY IS WORLD HISTORY
I was the first European
call me Negrito and Grimaldi
I walked along the Mediterraneanfrom Spain to Greece
Oh, Greece!Why did you kill Socrates?
Why did you give him the poison hemlock?
Who were the gods he introduced
corrupting the youth of Athens?
They were my gods, black gods from Africa
Oh, Socrates, Plato and Aristotle
Whose philosophy did you teach
that was Greek to the Greeks?
Pythagoras, where did you learn geometry?
Democritus, where did you study astronomy?
Solon and Lycurgus, where did you study law?
In Egypt, and Egypt is Africa
and Africa is me
I am the burnt face, the blameless Ethiopian
Homer told you about in the Iliad
Homer told you about Ulysses, too,
a story he got from me.
BLACK HISTORY IS WORLD HISTORY
I am the first Chinese
China has my eyes
I am the Aboriginal Asian
Look for me in Viet Nam, Cambodia & Thailand
I am there, even today, black and beautiful
BLACK HISTORY IS WORLD HISTORY
I used to travel to America
long before Columbus
came to me asking for directions
Americo Vespucci
on his voyage to America
saw me in the Atlantic
returning to Africa
America was my home
Before Aztec, Maya, Toltec, Inca & Olmec
I was hereI came to Peru 20,000 years ago
I founded Mexico City
See my pyramids, see my cabeza colosal
in Vera Cruz and Yucatan
that's me
I am the Mexican
for I am mixed with all men
and all men are mixed with me
I am the most just of men
I am the most peaceful
who loves peace day and night
Sometimes I let tyrants devour me
sometimes people falsely accuse me
sometimes people crucify me
but I am ever returningI am eternal, I am universal
Africa is my home
Asia is my home
Americas is my home
BLACK HISTORY IS WORLD HISTORY
By Marvin X
Before the Earth was
I was
Before time was
I was
you found me not long ago
and called me Lucy
I was four million years old
I had my tools beside me
I am the first man
call me Adam
I walked the Nile from Congo to Delta
a 4,000 mile jog
BLACK HISTORY IS WORLD HISTORY
I lived in the land of Canaan
before Abraham, before Hebrew was born
I am Canaan, son of Ham
I laugh at Arabs and Jews
fighting over my land
I lived in Saba, Southern Arabia
I played in the Red Sea
dwelled on the Persian Gulf
I left my mark from Babylon to Timbuktu
When Babylon acted a fool, that was me
I was the fool
When Babylon fell, that was me
I fell
BLACK HISTORY IS WORLD HISTORY
I was the first European
call me Negrito and Grimaldi
I walked along the Mediterraneanfrom Spain to Greece
Oh, Greece!Why did you kill Socrates?
Why did you give him the poison hemlock?
Who were the gods he introduced
corrupting the youth of Athens?
They were my gods, black gods from Africa
Oh, Socrates, Plato and Aristotle
Whose philosophy did you teach
that was Greek to the Greeks?
Pythagoras, where did you learn geometry?
Democritus, where did you study astronomy?
Solon and Lycurgus, where did you study law?
In Egypt, and Egypt is Africa
and Africa is me
I am the burnt face, the blameless Ethiopian
Homer told you about in the Iliad
Homer told you about Ulysses, too,
a story he got from me.
BLACK HISTORY IS WORLD HISTORY
I am the first Chinese
China has my eyes
I am the Aboriginal Asian
Look for me in Viet Nam, Cambodia & Thailand
I am there, even today, black and beautiful
BLACK HISTORY IS WORLD HISTORY
I used to travel to America
long before Columbus
came to me asking for directions
Americo Vespucci
on his voyage to America
saw me in the Atlantic
returning to Africa
America was my home
Before Aztec, Maya, Toltec, Inca & Olmec
I was hereI came to Peru 20,000 years ago
I founded Mexico City
See my pyramids, see my cabeza colosal
in Vera Cruz and Yucatan
that's me
I am the Mexican
for I am mixed with all men
and all men are mixed with me
I am the most just of men
I am the most peaceful
who loves peace day and night
Sometimes I let tyrants devour me
sometimes people falsely accuse me
sometimes people crucify me
but I am ever returningI am eternal, I am universal
Africa is my home
Asia is my home
Americas is my home
BLACK HISTORY IS WORLD HISTORY
Amiri Baraka On Marvin X at the Baraka's House on Easter Sunday, 2007
"He arose, He arose, X arose....! Perfect!" AB
Somethin' Proper: The Life and Times of a North American African Poet.
book review
African American Review,
Spring, 2001
by Julius E. Thompson
It tells the story of the most important Muslim poet to appear in the United States during the civil rights era....
Marvin X (Marvin E. Jackmon) [El Muhajir]. Somethin' Proper: The Life and Times of a North American African Poet. Castro Valley, CA: Black Bird P, 1998. 278 pp. $29.95.
Marvin X's autobiography Somethin' Proper is one of the most significant works to come out of the Black Arts Movement of the 1960s and 1970s. It tells the story of perhaps the most important African American Muslim poet to appear in the United States during the Civil Rights era. The book opens with an introduction by scholar Nathan Hare, a key figure in the Black Studies Movement of the period. Marvin X then takes center stage with an exploration of his life's story, juxtaposed with the rapidly changing events and movements of contemporary history: the Civil Rights Movement, the Black Arts Movement, the Black Power Movement, the growth of Islam in America, and especially the influence of Elijah Muhammad's Nation of Islam, and the series of challenges facing black people in recent decades.
Marvin X was born Marvin E. Jackmon in Fowler, California, on May 29, 1944, and grew up in West Fresno and West Oakland, California. His early education was completed in these cities, and he later attended Oakland City College (Merritt) and San Francisco State University, where he was awarded a B.A. and an M.A. in English. He emerged as an important new poetic voice among California black poets in the late 1960s, and wrote for several of the key Black Arts Movement journals of the period, including the Journal of Black Poetry, Soulbook, Black Dialogue, Black Theatre magazine, Black Scholar, Black World, and Muhammad Speaks. He was also a key playwright of the era, working with Ed Bullins in organizing the Black Arts West Theatre in San Francisco and in founding the Black House, also in San Francisco, with Bullins, Eldridge Cleaver, and Ethna Wyatt. He also worked with Bullins at the New Lafayette Theatre in Harlem. During the last forty years, Marvin X has taught Black Studies, literature, drama, and English at Fresno State University, the University of California, Berkeley and San Diego, the University of Nevada, Reno, San Francisco State University, Mills College, and Merritt and Laney Colleges in Oakland, California.
His very active career is also reflected in a rapid-moving life style. This fact is documented by the author in twenty chapters in Somethin' Proper, followed by an appendix, which captures the life and death of Huey Newton. Marvin X was a busy man during the 1960s and 1970s. He was a Black Muslim, an associate of the key leaders of the Black Panther Party (Huey Newton, Bobby Seale, and Eldridge Cleaver), an anti-Vietnam War protester (he went into exile in Canada, and later in Central America, rather than be drafted into the United States Army), and an outspoken critic of American economic, social, and cultural discrimination of African Americans at home, and of Third World peoples abroad. This theme is reflected in one of his most famous poems of the period, "Burn, Baby Burn":
Tired, sick and tired.
Tired of being sick and tired.
Lost, lost in
The wilderness of white America.
Are the masses asses?
Cool, said the master
To the slave, "No problem,
Don't rob and steal, I'll
Be your driving wheel."
Cool.
And he wheeled us into
350 years of Black
Madness--to hog guts,
Conked hair, quo vadis
Bleaching cream,
Uncle Thomas, to Watts
To the streets, to the
Killllllllll ........
Boommmmm ............
2 honkeys gone.
Motherfuck the police
And Parker's sister too
Burn, baby, burn*******
Cook outta sight*******
Fineburgs, wineburgs,
Safeway, noway, burn .....
Baby, burn
Somethin' Proper also reveals Marvin X's family life, marriages, children, and friends, and notes the conflicts which he has experienced across the years with individuals, organizations, and governments. He writes in a style which captures the essence of black language, folklore, and culture in the United States, with an upscale urban beat! Marvin X notes the high and low points in his own life and that of his associates. Most potent is his analysis of the drug situation in this country, and its relationship to and impact upon the black struggle. He calls for change and reform in this area, stressing the need for continued black struggle to overcome the age-old problems of discrimination, racism, and oppression in America.
Marvin X remains an active writer today. His body of work includes Fly to Allah (1969); Black Man Listen (1969), a key work in Dudley Randall's catalogue at Broadside Press; Woman, Man's Best Friend (1973); and a play, One Day in the Life, most recently produced in 1997 in Brooklyn and Newark, New Jersey. His most recent books of poetry are Love and War (1995), Land of My Daughters, poems, 2005.
He remains a very interesting voice from the Black Arts Movement, continuing to write and to challenge contemporary readers to think and to act, and to assess the past, the present, and the future.
COPYRIGHT 2001 African American Review
COPYRIGHT 2001 Gale Group
book review
African American Review,
Spring, 2001
by Julius E. Thompson
It tells the story of the most important Muslim poet to appear in the United States during the civil rights era....
Marvin X (Marvin E. Jackmon) [El Muhajir]. Somethin' Proper: The Life and Times of a North American African Poet. Castro Valley, CA: Black Bird P, 1998. 278 pp. $29.95.
Marvin X's autobiography Somethin' Proper is one of the most significant works to come out of the Black Arts Movement of the 1960s and 1970s. It tells the story of perhaps the most important African American Muslim poet to appear in the United States during the Civil Rights era. The book opens with an introduction by scholar Nathan Hare, a key figure in the Black Studies Movement of the period. Marvin X then takes center stage with an exploration of his life's story, juxtaposed with the rapidly changing events and movements of contemporary history: the Civil Rights Movement, the Black Arts Movement, the Black Power Movement, the growth of Islam in America, and especially the influence of Elijah Muhammad's Nation of Islam, and the series of challenges facing black people in recent decades.
Marvin X was born Marvin E. Jackmon in Fowler, California, on May 29, 1944, and grew up in West Fresno and West Oakland, California. His early education was completed in these cities, and he later attended Oakland City College (Merritt) and San Francisco State University, where he was awarded a B.A. and an M.A. in English. He emerged as an important new poetic voice among California black poets in the late 1960s, and wrote for several of the key Black Arts Movement journals of the period, including the Journal of Black Poetry, Soulbook, Black Dialogue, Black Theatre magazine, Black Scholar, Black World, and Muhammad Speaks. He was also a key playwright of the era, working with Ed Bullins in organizing the Black Arts West Theatre in San Francisco and in founding the Black House, also in San Francisco, with Bullins, Eldridge Cleaver, and Ethna Wyatt. He also worked with Bullins at the New Lafayette Theatre in Harlem. During the last forty years, Marvin X has taught Black Studies, literature, drama, and English at Fresno State University, the University of California, Berkeley and San Diego, the University of Nevada, Reno, San Francisco State University, Mills College, and Merritt and Laney Colleges in Oakland, California.
His very active career is also reflected in a rapid-moving life style. This fact is documented by the author in twenty chapters in Somethin' Proper, followed by an appendix, which captures the life and death of Huey Newton. Marvin X was a busy man during the 1960s and 1970s. He was a Black Muslim, an associate of the key leaders of the Black Panther Party (Huey Newton, Bobby Seale, and Eldridge Cleaver), an anti-Vietnam War protester (he went into exile in Canada, and later in Central America, rather than be drafted into the United States Army), and an outspoken critic of American economic, social, and cultural discrimination of African Americans at home, and of Third World peoples abroad. This theme is reflected in one of his most famous poems of the period, "Burn, Baby Burn":
Tired, sick and tired.
Tired of being sick and tired.
Lost, lost in
The wilderness of white America.
Are the masses asses?
Cool, said the master
To the slave, "No problem,
Don't rob and steal, I'll
Be your driving wheel."
Cool.
And he wheeled us into
350 years of Black
Madness--to hog guts,
Conked hair, quo vadis
Bleaching cream,
Uncle Thomas, to Watts
To the streets, to the
Killllllllll ........
Boommmmm ............
2 honkeys gone.
Motherfuck the police
And Parker's sister too
Burn, baby, burn*******
Cook outta sight*******
Fineburgs, wineburgs,
Safeway, noway, burn .....
Baby, burn
Somethin' Proper also reveals Marvin X's family life, marriages, children, and friends, and notes the conflicts which he has experienced across the years with individuals, organizations, and governments. He writes in a style which captures the essence of black language, folklore, and culture in the United States, with an upscale urban beat! Marvin X notes the high and low points in his own life and that of his associates. Most potent is his analysis of the drug situation in this country, and its relationship to and impact upon the black struggle. He calls for change and reform in this area, stressing the need for continued black struggle to overcome the age-old problems of discrimination, racism, and oppression in America.
Marvin X remains an active writer today. His body of work includes Fly to Allah (1969); Black Man Listen (1969), a key work in Dudley Randall's catalogue at Broadside Press; Woman, Man's Best Friend (1973); and a play, One Day in the Life, most recently produced in 1997 in Brooklyn and Newark, New Jersey. His most recent books of poetry are Love and War (1995), Land of My Daughters, poems, 2005.
He remains a very interesting voice from the Black Arts Movement, continuing to write and to challenge contemporary readers to think and to act, and to assess the past, the present, and the future.
COPYRIGHT 2001 African American Review
COPYRIGHT 2001 Gale Group
The Psychopathology of White Supremacy
The Psychopathology of White Supremacy
From The Ramparts*
By Junious Ricardo Stanton
*Psychopathic Babble*/“psychopath: 1. an individual suffering from a mental disorder, 2 an individual with a personality disorder not psychotic in nature, which is lacking a manifest anxiety and involves inadequate social adjustment.”/ Dictionary of Psychology
Our venerated ancestor Amos N. Wilson reminded us the true psychology of the European is not found in their psychology books or their intellectual dogma, rather their real psychological nature and functioning can best be discerned by looking at their history and present behaviors. Looking at the history of the Indo-European offers a clear indication that something is amiss with them mentally and spiritually. Their collective behavior towards themselves and humans worldwide indicates a collective (cultural) mental and personality disorder. From the perspective of their interactions with the humanity Europeans clearly exhibit inadequate social adjustment! “History as seen through the clear eyes/vision of the knowledgeable and culturally connected AfriKan, has made it apparent that the misrule of the European (including his Arab/Semitic brothers/sisters) has been one characterized by an avalanche of murders, the desacrelization of the human spirit, the defilement of nature, the perversion of human development and the denial and domination of his feminine twin self. This is the legacy of ‘Western Civilization’”. The Sankofa Movement ReAfrikanization and the Reality of War by Kwame Agyei and Akua Nson Akoto Page 202Looking at Europeans (those there and their invader/settler kin around the world) in this light and from this perspective it is easy to see Europeans present a very real and imminent danger to both humanity and the natural ecosystem. It is from this vantage point we must view the European ruling elites’ push for continuous war,ecological devastation and subverting of the natural order as a modern continuation of their millennial behavior patterns of incessant internecine tribal wars, invasions and assaults on Non-Europeans and an ongoing desecration of nature. The Bu$h administrations War on Terror is nothing more than them doing what they have done for thousands of years only now they conduct their looting, pillage and plunder as high tech barbarians.Africans being the first humans and the first civilized beings recognized the importance of speech and language. Our ancestors also realized as great a tool as language is for communication, speech also carried with it a moral responsibility to speak truth and be of true word. From an African perspective speech is a metaphysical tool, it is divine aspect of our nature to be used as co-creators with Omniety. “Indeed speech is the gift of the Creator. The often repeated formula whereby the Creator in the form of one of the divine aspects (e.g. Ptah) proclaims, ‘Words Spoken I have given all Life, Power and Health’, implies that not only did the Creator give those particulars, but also the words that convey the message, Medew Netcher or Divine Speech, thus encompasses what the Europeans designate as metaphysics, the branch of philosophy that deals with origins.” Jacob H Carruthers_* MDW NTR Divine Speech A Historical Reflection of African deep Thought from the Time of Pharaohs To The Present*_ Page 40
Looking at speech from an African perspective we can see how the Europeans use speech is a clear indication of their collective mental and personality disorders (psychopathy). Europeans have a natural aversion to telling the truth, to using speech in a positive fashion. They lie so much it is to the point you cannot believe much of anything they say. Their greatest industries and institutions are those the specialize in lying: advertising, religion, education and politics. The Native Americans observed this about the pale faces, and said succinctly “The White Man speaks with forked tongue.” From this perspective when the Bu$h cabal: Bu$h, Cheney, Powell, Wolfowitz, Rice, Rumsfeld et al and their NeoCon/Zionist cohorts in the mass media and Think Tanks lied about 9-11, lied about regime change in Haiti, lied about Osama bin-Laden, lied about the Taleban, lied about Saddam Hussein, lied about Social Security, lied about low unemployment, lied about the state of the economy and lied about the war in Iraq they were merely exhibiting a coordinated and deliberate form of psychopathic behavior. They are what our African ancestors would call workers of *Isfet* (chaos, deceit, injustice) the very opposite of *Ma’at* (Divine Order, Justice Balance, Harmony, Truth, Righteousness and Reciprocity). *Ma’at* was the guiding principle of not only the ancient Nile Valley cultures but we find these notions of propriety, rectitude and harmonious social relationships practiced throughout Africa and most of the non-Indo-European world even today. Some theorize the melanin deficiency within Caucasians is one of the root causes of their inability to tell the truth or use language in an uplifting manner.Contrast the African position on speech and righteousness with the past and recent history of Europeans and you begin to discern a fundamental difference between whites and humanity. From an African perspective where speech is seen as a divine tool we can see the speech of the Bu$h cabal also initiated universal metaphysical principles. However true to their barbarism, more war, more death, more destruction of human lives, physical infrastructures and the planet’s ecosystem have resulted from their use of the tool of speech. This is a clear reflection of their consciousness or lack thereof. It is not a case of them not knowing better ( there is a saying if they knew better they would do better). That is not the case. Europeans have a cultural pattern of lying, lying about themselves by creating a false and inaccurate self-image (white supremacy is a form of mental illness) and lying about non-Europeans (Xenophobia is also a form of mental illness). Their mental and spiritual maladies, their lack of self-control and self-restraint have resulted in social cannibalism, incessant wars and genocide, psychological damage and ecological devastation everywhere they’ve set foot on this planet. This history has been duly documented and is irrefutable. No matter what they say, their actions speak louder than their babble. And their behavior and babble are signs of their deep seated and worsening psychopathy.
From The Ramparts*
By Junious Ricardo Stanton
*Psychopathic Babble*/“psychopath: 1. an individual suffering from a mental disorder, 2 an individual with a personality disorder not psychotic in nature, which is lacking a manifest anxiety and involves inadequate social adjustment.”/ Dictionary of Psychology
Our venerated ancestor Amos N. Wilson reminded us the true psychology of the European is not found in their psychology books or their intellectual dogma, rather their real psychological nature and functioning can best be discerned by looking at their history and present behaviors. Looking at the history of the Indo-European offers a clear indication that something is amiss with them mentally and spiritually. Their collective behavior towards themselves and humans worldwide indicates a collective (cultural) mental and personality disorder. From the perspective of their interactions with the humanity Europeans clearly exhibit inadequate social adjustment! “History as seen through the clear eyes/vision of the knowledgeable and culturally connected AfriKan, has made it apparent that the misrule of the European (including his Arab/Semitic brothers/sisters) has been one characterized by an avalanche of murders, the desacrelization of the human spirit, the defilement of nature, the perversion of human development and the denial and domination of his feminine twin self. This is the legacy of ‘Western Civilization’”. The Sankofa Movement ReAfrikanization and the Reality of War by Kwame Agyei and Akua Nson Akoto Page 202Looking at Europeans (those there and their invader/settler kin around the world) in this light and from this perspective it is easy to see Europeans present a very real and imminent danger to both humanity and the natural ecosystem. It is from this vantage point we must view the European ruling elites’ push for continuous war,ecological devastation and subverting of the natural order as a modern continuation of their millennial behavior patterns of incessant internecine tribal wars, invasions and assaults on Non-Europeans and an ongoing desecration of nature. The Bu$h administrations War on Terror is nothing more than them doing what they have done for thousands of years only now they conduct their looting, pillage and plunder as high tech barbarians.Africans being the first humans and the first civilized beings recognized the importance of speech and language. Our ancestors also realized as great a tool as language is for communication, speech also carried with it a moral responsibility to speak truth and be of true word. From an African perspective speech is a metaphysical tool, it is divine aspect of our nature to be used as co-creators with Omniety. “Indeed speech is the gift of the Creator. The often repeated formula whereby the Creator in the form of one of the divine aspects (e.g. Ptah) proclaims, ‘Words Spoken I have given all Life, Power and Health’, implies that not only did the Creator give those particulars, but also the words that convey the message, Medew Netcher or Divine Speech, thus encompasses what the Europeans designate as metaphysics, the branch of philosophy that deals with origins.” Jacob H Carruthers_* MDW NTR Divine Speech A Historical Reflection of African deep Thought from the Time of Pharaohs To The Present*_ Page 40
Looking at speech from an African perspective we can see how the Europeans use speech is a clear indication of their collective mental and personality disorders (psychopathy). Europeans have a natural aversion to telling the truth, to using speech in a positive fashion. They lie so much it is to the point you cannot believe much of anything they say. Their greatest industries and institutions are those the specialize in lying: advertising, religion, education and politics. The Native Americans observed this about the pale faces, and said succinctly “The White Man speaks with forked tongue.” From this perspective when the Bu$h cabal: Bu$h, Cheney, Powell, Wolfowitz, Rice, Rumsfeld et al and their NeoCon/Zionist cohorts in the mass media and Think Tanks lied about 9-11, lied about regime change in Haiti, lied about Osama bin-Laden, lied about the Taleban, lied about Saddam Hussein, lied about Social Security, lied about low unemployment, lied about the state of the economy and lied about the war in Iraq they were merely exhibiting a coordinated and deliberate form of psychopathic behavior. They are what our African ancestors would call workers of *Isfet* (chaos, deceit, injustice) the very opposite of *Ma’at* (Divine Order, Justice Balance, Harmony, Truth, Righteousness and Reciprocity). *Ma’at* was the guiding principle of not only the ancient Nile Valley cultures but we find these notions of propriety, rectitude and harmonious social relationships practiced throughout Africa and most of the non-Indo-European world even today. Some theorize the melanin deficiency within Caucasians is one of the root causes of their inability to tell the truth or use language in an uplifting manner.Contrast the African position on speech and righteousness with the past and recent history of Europeans and you begin to discern a fundamental difference between whites and humanity. From an African perspective where speech is seen as a divine tool we can see the speech of the Bu$h cabal also initiated universal metaphysical principles. However true to their barbarism, more war, more death, more destruction of human lives, physical infrastructures and the planet’s ecosystem have resulted from their use of the tool of speech. This is a clear reflection of their consciousness or lack thereof. It is not a case of them not knowing better ( there is a saying if they knew better they would do better). That is not the case. Europeans have a cultural pattern of lying, lying about themselves by creating a false and inaccurate self-image (white supremacy is a form of mental illness) and lying about non-Europeans (Xenophobia is also a form of mental illness). Their mental and spiritual maladies, their lack of self-control and self-restraint have resulted in social cannibalism, incessant wars and genocide, psychological damage and ecological devastation everywhere they’ve set foot on this planet. This history has been duly documented and is irrefutable. No matter what they say, their actions speak louder than their babble. And their behavior and babble are signs of their deep seated and worsening psychopathy.
Message from Dr. Nathan Hare to Doc Marvin X
Marvin,
Maybe we should start calling you Doc Marvin. I remember the Old West character, Doc Holliday or somebody; and I once met an impressive brother (a member of the school board or high up there in Kansas City, Missouri, circa late 1980s), who was known as Doc Ross, though his name was something else and he didn’t have no white man’s doctorate. Sure wish I could give one (or both) of mine away.
I’ve been keeping up with your goings and doings back East, and you continue to amaze me with the way you live and promote the life you write about. And the harder I try these days the more you brothers’ blogs and computerizations keep getting ahead of me.
The Queen Bee is doing fine – you know her. No doubt she would sting me for even thinking of taking time away from my soon to be mythical (imaginary? but I’m getting there) book! Luckily she’s on the phone right now, as usual, so instead of asking permission, I’ll just beg forgiveness. After all, if she’s “the queen bee,” I’m the king bee.
But you’ve just given me an offer I can’t refuse. Not only is it an honor and an opportunity to “do good in the world,”
it’s fitting and proper (or “somethin’ proper”). Plus you already blessed me beyond measure in the beginning of the text. And I tell Julia all the time that “I like people who ACT like they like me.”
“But they can be shucking you; they just using you. ”
“I don’t care what they think. Just keep on using me till you use me up.”
How long should the forward be etc?
I’m rushing to get out early this morning, but I got a look at the twelve steps and your blog. Don’t know if I saw all of the manuscript or if you are still writing on it or what, “heading South.”
Let me know. In any case, back to you later.
Nathan
Maybe we should start calling you Doc Marvin. I remember the Old West character, Doc Holliday or somebody; and I once met an impressive brother (a member of the school board or high up there in Kansas City, Missouri, circa late 1980s), who was known as Doc Ross, though his name was something else and he didn’t have no white man’s doctorate. Sure wish I could give one (or both) of mine away.
I’ve been keeping up with your goings and doings back East, and you continue to amaze me with the way you live and promote the life you write about. And the harder I try these days the more you brothers’ blogs and computerizations keep getting ahead of me.
The Queen Bee is doing fine – you know her. No doubt she would sting me for even thinking of taking time away from my soon to be mythical (imaginary? but I’m getting there) book! Luckily she’s on the phone right now, as usual, so instead of asking permission, I’ll just beg forgiveness. After all, if she’s “the queen bee,” I’m the king bee.
But you’ve just given me an offer I can’t refuse. Not only is it an honor and an opportunity to “do good in the world,”
it’s fitting and proper (or “somethin’ proper”). Plus you already blessed me beyond measure in the beginning of the text. And I tell Julia all the time that “I like people who ACT like they like me.”
“But they can be shucking you; they just using you. ”
“I don’t care what they think. Just keep on using me till you use me up.”
How long should the forward be etc?
I’m rushing to get out early this morning, but I got a look at the twelve steps and your blog. Don’t know if I saw all of the manuscript or if you are still writing on it or what, “heading South.”
Let me know. In any case, back to you later.
Nathan
Toward A Pan African Mental Health Peer Group to Recover from the Addiction to White Supremacy
Without going through a healing process to recover from the addiction to white supremacy as I am suggesting in my work in progress: How to Recover from the Addiction to White Supremacy: A Pan African 12 Step Model, it is doubtful any good will come of meetings, conferences, festivals, simply because we are suffering from an addiction and must enter detox, recovery and discovery. It is doubtful we can eat dinner together without some of the poisons of white supremacy spoiling the dinner. Recently I had to stop inviting brothers out to breakfast or dinner because they consistantly spoiled the meal with their white supremacy mentality, so we can't go around the corner together without submitting to a Pan African mental health program. But keep on pushing the rock up the hill like Sisyphus. Long live Africa.--Marvin X
Please go to the archive article: How to Recover from the Addiction to White Supremacy
Please go to the archive article: How to Recover from the Addiction to White Supremacy
Shani Baraka and the Politics of Life and Death
Don't worry if the sun burns you black like the earth
Fly to Allah and be safe in the caves of your mind....
Remembering Shani Baraka
By Marvin X
When will the murdering end
in the land of murder
when will it end?
when will the talk and marching make sense to fools even?
Poets are not safe in this land
even their children are not safefrom the death angel
who walks through fire untouched
until the white house turns black
murder will reign in the world
no families are secure
Baldwin said, "The murder of my child will not make your child safe!"
Connect the dots, America
arms merchant of the world
whose guns pollute the hood
shrines to death and eternity stand on every corner
candles, teddy bears and tearsnotes of pain and love, RIP
and the shrines return to the same corners every full moon
when death does her dance in the moonlight of our madness
is it too much to ask for sanity in this blood soaked land
is it too much to ask for a moment of clarity and peace?
Woe to America, she has become the habitation of devils
the haven for every filthy, unclean bird.
Fly to Allah. seek refuge from the blood of the beast
who devours the souls of men, women and children
from Palestine to Newark, from Liberia to Congo
from Soweto to Hunters Point in Frisco
Fly to the mountains of peace, t
ake refuge in the trees
feed the cows and horses
see how they run to you,
happy to see you with the hay?
plant the corn with your fingers
don't worry if dirt is in your pretty nails.
Don't worry if the sun burns you black like the earth
Fly to Allah and be safe in the caves of your mind
away from the evil one who walks through fire.
who seeks to devour the children we do not protect
so the big bad wolf blows the house down
we stand wondering how and why and who.
I told Shani to take me to the ocean and she said OK
but we never went
she was busy and so was I
I told her to come to Cali
she said OK but never did
She told her Mama, "Marvin X is the only man I like!"
And I liked her bow legs. point guard. room full of trophies
I didn't think about challenging her in a game of one on one.
I wasn't going to embarrass myself since I wasn't in shape
I fixed her breakfast
She said she never saw a man cook before.
No, not her father nor her brothers
Maybe that's why she liked me.
I was drunk one night and invaded Amiri's study
I told him I wanted to marry Shani
He told me the next day,"Marvin, you get drunk and say the damnest things!"
Her mother said, "Take her!"but I never did.
so Shani lived her life with her girls.
Her brothers said, "Shani just mannish! She be all ite."
Last time I heard, she had joined church and coached basketball.
The little point guard with the bow legs.
The feminine spirit of Baraka.
We love you, Shani.
You and your girl, Rayshon.
Peace.
When Parents Bury Children
By Marvin X
death
a pain nothing can kill
no words suffice
no tears complete
we are numb
alive
but dead inside
walk with pride
that hides open wounds
bleeding
only you can see
touch
feel
others try
some are true
honest
but do they really know
the painof loss
a child so young
so bright
now the emptiness
forever
except the memory
of all the yesterdays
from birth to now
thoughts of joy confound
yet make us smile
if only for a moment
like eternity
and is gone
into the night of foreverness
and so we walk crippled yet brave
each daywondering
pondering
the price of life and love
the cost of moments lost yet found again
as we walkand talk to the spirit world
where death does not enter
only living water flows
as we flow
between life and spirit
which are one.
The Politics of Life and DeathBy Marvin X
Speaking at the funeral of his beloved sister Shani, Ras Baraka cried out, "Why couldn't we save her in all of our blackness, our prayers, our revolution talk, our [healing] conferences?" This is a most profound question that should rattle the hearts and souls of all activists, radicals, and revolutionaries. Indeed, how can we save the world yet neglect our families? Although my oldest son is forty years old, he still feels abandoned and neglected because I was fighting for freedom during the 60s. He told me I should have been home taking care of him and his mother, even though my struggle to teach at Fresno State University reportedly made things better for the whole town. After my fight, even black policemen admitted they were able to police white sections of town they were previously not allowed to enter.Nevertheless, the cries of my child cannot be dismissed as the wail of an "ungrateful bastard." The cry of Ras Baraka must be considered so that in our struggle, our fights, our poems, our conferences, we do not neglect our families, no matter how ungrateful we might think they are. One problem is that they often become alienated from us when they see contradictory behavior, so we must first of all resolve contradictions.Harlem radical Elombe Brathe commented on my play ONE DAY IN THE LIFE, "The reason Marvin's daughter Nefertiti became a Christian was because she saw the contradictory behavior of her father and wanted no part of his revolution or his Islam." This is the sad truth. And after some time for healing, the Barakas must ask themselves why did Shani become a Christian after growing up with Communist parents?Of course her Christianity has nothing whatsoever to do with her tragic death and that of her partner, but I am responding to Ras's comments that have to do with revolutionary struggle and our families. Often we miss the point of struggle: to first unite our families.It is our families that slavery destroyed. It is our families that have been ravaged by street violence, domestic violence, drugs, alcohol, ignorance, and immorality. Save the family, save the nation.I was recently told that I could not save the world. This was shocking news to me. My whole life has been dedicated to saving the world. I was told to come off the battle field sometime and just be me, drop the X and just be Marvin, carrying that X is a burden that can be overwhelming. I was told I had already made a great contribution to my people, me and my generation, had indeed, made things better, so relax and enjoy life, enjoy your family.Only a few days ago, one of my daughters told me to stop thinking of myself all the time and think about her and her needs, even though she is an adult, she was crying out for my love, not my poetic love, revolutionary love, simply fatherly love!I let her know I would come out of my ego trip and revolutionary pursuits to engage her, to spend time with her in an attempt to heal the trauma of her childhood, even though she has entered full womanhood. Will this not be a revolutionary act on my part? Will this not help strengthen the community, advance the world struggle against racism, sexism, and economic exploitation?
Fly to Allah and be safe in the caves of your mind....
Remembering Shani Baraka
By Marvin X
When will the murdering end
in the land of murder
when will it end?
when will the talk and marching make sense to fools even?
Poets are not safe in this land
even their children are not safefrom the death angel
who walks through fire untouched
until the white house turns black
murder will reign in the world
no families are secure
Baldwin said, "The murder of my child will not make your child safe!"
Connect the dots, America
arms merchant of the world
whose guns pollute the hood
shrines to death and eternity stand on every corner
candles, teddy bears and tearsnotes of pain and love, RIP
and the shrines return to the same corners every full moon
when death does her dance in the moonlight of our madness
is it too much to ask for sanity in this blood soaked land
is it too much to ask for a moment of clarity and peace?
Woe to America, she has become the habitation of devils
the haven for every filthy, unclean bird.
Fly to Allah. seek refuge from the blood of the beast
who devours the souls of men, women and children
from Palestine to Newark, from Liberia to Congo
from Soweto to Hunters Point in Frisco
Fly to the mountains of peace, t
ake refuge in the trees
feed the cows and horses
see how they run to you,
happy to see you with the hay?
plant the corn with your fingers
don't worry if dirt is in your pretty nails.
Don't worry if the sun burns you black like the earth
Fly to Allah and be safe in the caves of your mind
away from the evil one who walks through fire.
who seeks to devour the children we do not protect
so the big bad wolf blows the house down
we stand wondering how and why and who.
I told Shani to take me to the ocean and she said OK
but we never went
she was busy and so was I
I told her to come to Cali
she said OK but never did
She told her Mama, "Marvin X is the only man I like!"
And I liked her bow legs. point guard. room full of trophies
I didn't think about challenging her in a game of one on one.
I wasn't going to embarrass myself since I wasn't in shape
I fixed her breakfast
She said she never saw a man cook before.
No, not her father nor her brothers
Maybe that's why she liked me.
I was drunk one night and invaded Amiri's study
I told him I wanted to marry Shani
He told me the next day,"Marvin, you get drunk and say the damnest things!"
Her mother said, "Take her!"but I never did.
so Shani lived her life with her girls.
Her brothers said, "Shani just mannish! She be all ite."
Last time I heard, she had joined church and coached basketball.
The little point guard with the bow legs.
The feminine spirit of Baraka.
We love you, Shani.
You and your girl, Rayshon.
Peace.
When Parents Bury Children
By Marvin X
death
a pain nothing can kill
no words suffice
no tears complete
we are numb
alive
but dead inside
walk with pride
that hides open wounds
bleeding
only you can see
touch
feel
others try
some are true
honest
but do they really know
the painof loss
a child so young
so bright
now the emptiness
forever
except the memory
of all the yesterdays
from birth to now
thoughts of joy confound
yet make us smile
if only for a moment
like eternity
and is gone
into the night of foreverness
and so we walk crippled yet brave
each daywondering
pondering
the price of life and love
the cost of moments lost yet found again
as we walkand talk to the spirit world
where death does not enter
only living water flows
as we flow
between life and spirit
which are one.
The Politics of Life and DeathBy Marvin X
Speaking at the funeral of his beloved sister Shani, Ras Baraka cried out, "Why couldn't we save her in all of our blackness, our prayers, our revolution talk, our [healing] conferences?" This is a most profound question that should rattle the hearts and souls of all activists, radicals, and revolutionaries. Indeed, how can we save the world yet neglect our families? Although my oldest son is forty years old, he still feels abandoned and neglected because I was fighting for freedom during the 60s. He told me I should have been home taking care of him and his mother, even though my struggle to teach at Fresno State University reportedly made things better for the whole town. After my fight, even black policemen admitted they were able to police white sections of town they were previously not allowed to enter.Nevertheless, the cries of my child cannot be dismissed as the wail of an "ungrateful bastard." The cry of Ras Baraka must be considered so that in our struggle, our fights, our poems, our conferences, we do not neglect our families, no matter how ungrateful we might think they are. One problem is that they often become alienated from us when they see contradictory behavior, so we must first of all resolve contradictions.Harlem radical Elombe Brathe commented on my play ONE DAY IN THE LIFE, "The reason Marvin's daughter Nefertiti became a Christian was because she saw the contradictory behavior of her father and wanted no part of his revolution or his Islam." This is the sad truth. And after some time for healing, the Barakas must ask themselves why did Shani become a Christian after growing up with Communist parents?Of course her Christianity has nothing whatsoever to do with her tragic death and that of her partner, but I am responding to Ras's comments that have to do with revolutionary struggle and our families. Often we miss the point of struggle: to first unite our families.It is our families that slavery destroyed. It is our families that have been ravaged by street violence, domestic violence, drugs, alcohol, ignorance, and immorality. Save the family, save the nation.I was recently told that I could not save the world. This was shocking news to me. My whole life has been dedicated to saving the world. I was told to come off the battle field sometime and just be me, drop the X and just be Marvin, carrying that X is a burden that can be overwhelming. I was told I had already made a great contribution to my people, me and my generation, had indeed, made things better, so relax and enjoy life, enjoy your family.Only a few days ago, one of my daughters told me to stop thinking of myself all the time and think about her and her needs, even though she is an adult, she was crying out for my love, not my poetic love, revolutionary love, simply fatherly love!I let her know I would come out of my ego trip and revolutionary pursuits to engage her, to spend time with her in an attempt to heal the trauma of her childhood, even though she has entered full womanhood. Will this not be a revolutionary act on my part? Will this not help strengthen the community, advance the world struggle against racism, sexism, and economic exploitation?
Mumia Abu Jamal On Marvin X: Live from Death Row
MUMIA ABU JAMAL quotes MARVIN X
Little may be known in the mainstream of poet/writer/teacher Marvin X but within circles of radical and independent artists and thinkers, he remains an icon!
Political prisoner/activist, Mumia Abu Jamal recently included an excerpt from a Marvin X essay in his internationally syndicated column. The article entitled, HOW 'BLACK' IS OUR HISTORY MONTH written live from death row, explores the true spirit of Black History Month. ----Katrina -- the ravages, not of weather, but of government, as Black Arts Movement poet, playwright, and essayist Marvin X put it so eloquently in his recent Beyond Religion -- Toward Spirituality: Essays on Consciousness (Cherokee, CA: Black Bird Press, 2006): "We have tried their sham democratic elections to no avail, as we saw in the 2000 general election when our votes were discounted. Between our treatment in the 2000 election and Katrina, what else do we need to know about American democracy? What part of no don't you understand? Both events revealed America to be nothing more than a banana republic with respect to us: we were treated worse than dogs in both respects." [p. 192] " To read the full article:http://www.mumia.org/freedom.now/ {HOW 'BLACK' IS OUR HISTORY MONTH?}
Little may be known in the mainstream of poet/writer/teacher Marvin X but within circles of radical and independent artists and thinkers, he remains an icon!
Political prisoner/activist, Mumia Abu Jamal recently included an excerpt from a Marvin X essay in his internationally syndicated column. The article entitled, HOW 'BLACK' IS OUR HISTORY MONTH written live from death row, explores the true spirit of Black History Month. ----Katrina -- the ravages, not of weather, but of government, as Black Arts Movement poet, playwright, and essayist Marvin X put it so eloquently in his recent Beyond Religion -- Toward Spirituality: Essays on Consciousness (Cherokee, CA: Black Bird Press, 2006): "We have tried their sham democratic elections to no avail, as we saw in the 2000 general election when our votes were discounted. Between our treatment in the 2000 election and Katrina, what else do we need to know about American democracy? What part of no don't you understand? Both events revealed America to be nothing more than a banana republic with respect to us: we were treated worse than dogs in both respects." [p. 192] " To read the full article:http://www.mumia.org/freedom.now/ {HOW 'BLACK' IS OUR HISTORY MONTH?}
Flowers for the Trashman, 40 Years Later
Brother Marvin,
I am very excited to hear that you are going to produce your class play, "Flowers for the Trashman." Although I have never seen the play, I first read itin the anthology, "Black Fire," when I was about 15 years-old. It will be an honor to witness the 40th year celebration of a play that helped launch the Black Arts Movement. I plan to come your talk tomorrow at Your Black MuslimBakery. I am also looking forward to the program tohonor Dingane and, as I told you before, you cancount me in as one of the poets who will give money to pull it off. I think that it is extremely importantto give Dingane his flowers while he is alive.
Long live Marvin X!
Long live Dingane!
Yours in solidarity,
Vern
one-act play Flowers for the Trashman, about the> father/son relationship. While a student at San> Francisco State College/University in 1966, Marvin> wrote the play for his English professor and> novelist, John Gardner, because he was flunking> Gardner's class. Gardner urged the drama department> to produce it and they did. The play became a> classic of the Black Arts Movement and has been> performed in Black theatres across America and even> Europe and Africa. It was first published in Black> Dialogue Magazine and later in the 60s anthology> Black Fire, edited by LeRoi Jones (Amiri Baraka) and> Larry Neal. Black Classics Press will soon release a> new edition of Black Fire.> > Kenneth Rexroth called Marvin X the best> playwright to hit San Francisco State, and he is> still on the move. His docudrama One Day In The Life> is the longest running black play in the Bay Area> and Northern California. > > Marvin has interviewed two hip hop poets, Rebel> and President Davis, about the doing the main roles> in Flowers, and the Berkeley Black Repertory Group> Theatre will be the venue.> > On Sunday, March 11, 5pm, Marvin X will read from> his latest book Beyond Religion, Toward Spirituality> at Your Black Muslim Bakery, San Pablo and Stanford,> Oakland.> > His East coast tour in shaping up, including> readings in Harlem, Brooklyn, Newark, Philly and> Washington, DC. For tour schedule, contact his East> coast agent, Suninleo Productions.> > MUMIA quotes MARVIN X> Little may be known in the mainstream of> poet/writer/teacher Marvin X > but within circles of radical and independent > artists and thinkers, he remains an icon!> ">Marvin X has decided to produce his classic one-act play Flowers for the Trashman, about the father/son relationship. While a student at San Francisco State College/University in 1966, Marvin wrote the play for his English professor and novelist, John Gardner, because he was flunking Gardner's class. Gardner urged the drama department to produce it and they did. The play became a classic of the Black Arts Movement and has been performed in Black theatres across America and even Europe and Africa. It was first published in Black Dialogue Magazine and later in the 60s anthology Black Fire, edited by LeRoi Jones (Amiri Baraka) and Larry Neal. Black Classics Press will soon release a new edition of Black Fire. Kenneth Rexroth called Marvin X the best playwright to hit San Francisco State, and he is still on the move. His docudrama One Day In The Life is the longest running black play in the Bay Area and Northern California. Marvin has interviewed two hip hop poets, Rebel and President Davis, about the doing the main roles in Flowers, and the Berkeley Black Repertory Group Theatre will be the venue.
On Sunday, March 11, 5pm, Marvin X will read from his latest book Beyond Religion, Toward Spirituality at Your Black Muslim Bakery, San Pablo and Stanford, Oakland. His East coast tour in shaping up, including readings in Harlem, Brooklyn, Newark, Philly, Boston, Hartford,and Washington, DC. For tour schedule, contact his East coast agent, Suninleo Productions.
I am very excited to hear that you are going to produce your class play, "Flowers for the Trashman." Although I have never seen the play, I first read itin the anthology, "Black Fire," when I was about 15 years-old. It will be an honor to witness the 40th year celebration of a play that helped launch the Black Arts Movement. I plan to come your talk tomorrow at Your Black MuslimBakery. I am also looking forward to the program tohonor Dingane and, as I told you before, you cancount me in as one of the poets who will give money to pull it off. I think that it is extremely importantto give Dingane his flowers while he is alive.
Long live Marvin X!
Long live Dingane!
Yours in solidarity,
Vern
one-act play Flowers for the Trashman, about the> father/son relationship. While a student at San> Francisco State College/University in 1966, Marvin> wrote the play for his English professor and> novelist, John Gardner, because he was flunking> Gardner's class. Gardner urged the drama department> to produce it and they did. The play became a> classic of the Black Arts Movement and has been> performed in Black theatres across America and even> Europe and Africa. It was first published in Black> Dialogue Magazine and later in the 60s anthology> Black Fire, edited by LeRoi Jones (Amiri Baraka) and> Larry Neal. Black Classics Press will soon release a> new edition of Black Fire.> > Kenneth Rexroth called Marvin X the best> playwright to hit San Francisco State, and he is> still on the move. His docudrama One Day In The Life> is the longest running black play in the Bay Area> and Northern California. > > Marvin has interviewed two hip hop poets, Rebel> and President Davis, about the doing the main roles> in Flowers, and the Berkeley Black Repertory Group> Theatre will be the venue.> > On Sunday, March 11, 5pm, Marvin X will read from> his latest book Beyond Religion, Toward Spirituality> at Your Black Muslim Bakery, San Pablo and Stanford,> Oakland.> > His East coast tour in shaping up, including> readings in Harlem, Brooklyn, Newark, Philly and> Washington, DC. For tour schedule, contact his East> coast agent, Suninleo Productions.> > MUMIA quotes MARVIN X> Little may be known in the mainstream of> poet/writer/teacher Marvin X > but within circles of radical and independent > artists and thinkers, he remains an icon!> ">Marvin X has decided to produce his classic one-act play Flowers for the Trashman, about the father/son relationship. While a student at San Francisco State College/University in 1966, Marvin wrote the play for his English professor and novelist, John Gardner, because he was flunking Gardner's class. Gardner urged the drama department to produce it and they did. The play became a classic of the Black Arts Movement and has been performed in Black theatres across America and even Europe and Africa. It was first published in Black Dialogue Magazine and later in the 60s anthology Black Fire, edited by LeRoi Jones (Amiri Baraka) and Larry Neal. Black Classics Press will soon release a new edition of Black Fire. Kenneth Rexroth called Marvin X the best playwright to hit San Francisco State, and he is still on the move. His docudrama One Day In The Life is the longest running black play in the Bay Area and Northern California. Marvin has interviewed two hip hop poets, Rebel and President Davis, about the doing the main roles in Flowers, and the Berkeley Black Repertory Group Theatre will be the venue.
On Sunday, March 11, 5pm, Marvin X will read from his latest book Beyond Religion, Toward Spirituality at Your Black Muslim Bakery, San Pablo and Stanford, Oakland. His East coast tour in shaping up, including readings in Harlem, Brooklyn, Newark, Philly, Boston, Hartford,and Washington, DC. For tour schedule, contact his East coast agent, Suninleo Productions.
The Secret or Beyond Religion, toward Spirituality
The Secret or Marvin X's Beyond Religion, toward Spirituality
The Secret may be a best seller on the New York Times list, but in the hood it's Marvin X's essays on consciousness Beyond Religion, toward Spirituality that is hard to keep on the shelves at limited outlets in the SF/Oakland Bay Area. After 40 years, the masses have discovered the writings of Marvin X, or, as one bookseller put it, "They have known about you, they just didn't know where to get your books, now they know."
In the Bay, his books are available at Aquarius Rising, 6036 Telegraph Ave., Oakland. De Lauer's News, 14th and Broadway, downtown, and Your Black Muslim Bakery, San Pablo and Standford. YBMB has five titles: Something Proper, autobiography, 1998, In the Crazy House Called America, essays, 2002, Wish I Could Tell You The Truth, essays, 2005, Land of My Daughters, poems, 2005, and Beyond Religion, toward Spirituality, 2007. Marcus Books doesn't do Marvin X.
The poet/essayist will hit the east coast in April: on Good Friday he will be hosted by Philly's most famous female poet, and Easter Sunday he will be hosted in Newark by their most famous poet. Contact Marvin's agent for details: suninleo. com.
In a letter from death row, Mumia Abu Jamal told Marvin, "Beyond Religion is an encyclopedia of knowledge. You are a griot if there ever was one."
Look for Beyond Religion to be a bestseller in the hood. Order direct from the publisher:
Black Bird Press, POB 1317, Paradise CA 95967, $19.95, postage included.
The Secret may be a best seller on the New York Times list, but in the hood it's Marvin X's essays on consciousness Beyond Religion, toward Spirituality that is hard to keep on the shelves at limited outlets in the SF/Oakland Bay Area. After 40 years, the masses have discovered the writings of Marvin X, or, as one bookseller put it, "They have known about you, they just didn't know where to get your books, now they know."
In the Bay, his books are available at Aquarius Rising, 6036 Telegraph Ave., Oakland. De Lauer's News, 14th and Broadway, downtown, and Your Black Muslim Bakery, San Pablo and Standford. YBMB has five titles: Something Proper, autobiography, 1998, In the Crazy House Called America, essays, 2002, Wish I Could Tell You The Truth, essays, 2005, Land of My Daughters, poems, 2005, and Beyond Religion, toward Spirituality, 2007. Marcus Books doesn't do Marvin X.
The poet/essayist will hit the east coast in April: on Good Friday he will be hosted by Philly's most famous female poet, and Easter Sunday he will be hosted in Newark by their most famous poet. Contact Marvin's agent for details: suninleo. com.
In a letter from death row, Mumia Abu Jamal told Marvin, "Beyond Religion is an encyclopedia of knowledge. You are a griot if there ever was one."
Look for Beyond Religion to be a bestseller in the hood. Order direct from the publisher:
Black Bird Press, POB 1317, Paradise CA 95967, $19.95, postage included.
Forgiving Mother Africa
Forgiving Mother Africa
…it is the women of a country who help to mold its character, and to influence if not determine it's destiny… Frances E. W. Harper, 19th Century
We must be willing to overcome our very real feelings of rejection, self loathing and bitterness due to the selling of our ancestors by our own people. Further, we have to be able to separate fact from fiction as it pertains to what we have been taught about our history as the descendants of Africans. Forgiving Mother Africa for the circumstances which led us to the auction blocks and on to the plantations is no different than forgiving anyone else for trespasses against us, including those who came to her shores looking for bodies to work their fields.
Mother Africa, through the Traditional Rulers of Benin is asking Diasporic Africans to forgive them for their role in the genocide of African People. Much effort and planning has gone into developing restoration and reconciliation models that will facilitate the healing of Africans in the Diaspora. Moreover, the Traditional Rulers and the government of Benin stands ready and willing to do all in their power to restore Diasporic African by providing immediate citizenship and land, among other things. The Traditional Rulers and Tribal Chiefs in West Africa have carefully assessed the damages which were imposed upon their family members in the Diaspora. At this time, the approach is to restore our people, rebuild the communities which were destroyed by slavery and empower each individual who returns. Much effort and planning has been done by the Traditional Rulers and Tribal Chiefs over the past few years, awaiting our return. We are continuing to work toward the goal of insuring the message of reconciliation with Mother Africa is transmitted throughout the African Diaspora and that each of you knows within your heart that you are not Motherless children.
I have assembled a global team of outstanding individuals to assist and advise me on matter pertaining to our resettlement in Africa . These advisors are also working on an economic model which will allow returning Africans to be economically independent. We have everyone from Scholars to grassroots organizers to assist in this most important project. I've been told that I provide a wonderful perspective and approach to the issues facing Diasporic Africans and our brethren at home.
The African Diasporic Reconciliation Project is also preparing to host a conference on our resettlement in Benin sometime in 2008. Our team of global African women will also host a Congress in Benin in 2009 to address all issues concerning African women, worldwide. Your input and volunteers are needed. Language is no barrier.
For me personally, the issue that comes to the forefront is the urgent need for educating all of our children throughout the world on what happened to us during slavery and colonization. Education implies the most direct means of empowering our children, and we must dedicate much of our efforts in this direction and show more commitment to the purpose. We all need to know what occurred after we left the shores of our beloved mother. Africans on each side of the water suffered horribly and we must educate those who come behind to pick up our banners one day.
Another issue is gaining the confidence of Diasporic Africans and rid them of their fear of losing their individuality and ability to make their own decisions. We encourage self determination and the cultural identities of each Diasporic nation. This is important because any collaborative venture with our Motherland would succeed only if we all properly appreciate the efforts of the other and don't regard resettlement in Benin as an intrusion into your individuality and threatening to communal values already in place.
The success of the African Diasporic Reconciliation Project depends upon the implantation of sound policies on both sides that aids in the empowerment of both Diasporic Africans and their continental African counterparts, without compromising anyone's self determination. Any solution must not end up creating a segregated section of people totally disconnected from the Beninese people. Each issue or concern any of you have must be carefully considered before negotiations begin to frame any new social policies for empowerment and a sustainable Africa . If we all succeed in achieving this balance, including economic success of Diasporic Africans and contribute to the economy of Benin in the process, as well as preserving each cultural heritage, we can rest assured that our efforts will be fruitful and that our resettlement will bring us nothing but joy.
One aim, one goal, one Africa
Her Royal Grace, Princess Adinasse
Omo Oba, Alaketu
(Daughter of the King of Ketou)
…it is the women of a country who help to mold its character, and to influence if not determine it's destiny… Frances E. W. Harper, 19th Century
We must be willing to overcome our very real feelings of rejection, self loathing and bitterness due to the selling of our ancestors by our own people. Further, we have to be able to separate fact from fiction as it pertains to what we have been taught about our history as the descendants of Africans. Forgiving Mother Africa for the circumstances which led us to the auction blocks and on to the plantations is no different than forgiving anyone else for trespasses against us, including those who came to her shores looking for bodies to work their fields.
Mother Africa, through the Traditional Rulers of Benin is asking Diasporic Africans to forgive them for their role in the genocide of African People. Much effort and planning has gone into developing restoration and reconciliation models that will facilitate the healing of Africans in the Diaspora. Moreover, the Traditional Rulers and the government of Benin stands ready and willing to do all in their power to restore Diasporic African by providing immediate citizenship and land, among other things. The Traditional Rulers and Tribal Chiefs in West Africa have carefully assessed the damages which were imposed upon their family members in the Diaspora. At this time, the approach is to restore our people, rebuild the communities which were destroyed by slavery and empower each individual who returns. Much effort and planning has been done by the Traditional Rulers and Tribal Chiefs over the past few years, awaiting our return. We are continuing to work toward the goal of insuring the message of reconciliation with Mother Africa is transmitted throughout the African Diaspora and that each of you knows within your heart that you are not Motherless children.
I have assembled a global team of outstanding individuals to assist and advise me on matter pertaining to our resettlement in Africa . These advisors are also working on an economic model which will allow returning Africans to be economically independent. We have everyone from Scholars to grassroots organizers to assist in this most important project. I've been told that I provide a wonderful perspective and approach to the issues facing Diasporic Africans and our brethren at home.
The African Diasporic Reconciliation Project is also preparing to host a conference on our resettlement in Benin sometime in 2008. Our team of global African women will also host a Congress in Benin in 2009 to address all issues concerning African women, worldwide. Your input and volunteers are needed. Language is no barrier.
For me personally, the issue that comes to the forefront is the urgent need for educating all of our children throughout the world on what happened to us during slavery and colonization. Education implies the most direct means of empowering our children, and we must dedicate much of our efforts in this direction and show more commitment to the purpose. We all need to know what occurred after we left the shores of our beloved mother. Africans on each side of the water suffered horribly and we must educate those who come behind to pick up our banners one day.
Another issue is gaining the confidence of Diasporic Africans and rid them of their fear of losing their individuality and ability to make their own decisions. We encourage self determination and the cultural identities of each Diasporic nation. This is important because any collaborative venture with our Motherland would succeed only if we all properly appreciate the efforts of the other and don't regard resettlement in Benin as an intrusion into your individuality and threatening to communal values already in place.
The success of the African Diasporic Reconciliation Project depends upon the implantation of sound policies on both sides that aids in the empowerment of both Diasporic Africans and their continental African counterparts, without compromising anyone's self determination. Any solution must not end up creating a segregated section of people totally disconnected from the Beninese people. Each issue or concern any of you have must be carefully considered before negotiations begin to frame any new social policies for empowerment and a sustainable Africa . If we all succeed in achieving this balance, including economic success of Diasporic Africans and contribute to the economy of Benin in the process, as well as preserving each cultural heritage, we can rest assured that our efforts will be fruitful and that our resettlement will bring us nothing but joy.
One aim, one goal, one Africa
Her Royal Grace, Princess Adinasse
Omo Oba, Alaketu
(Daughter of the King of Ketou)
I SALUTE YOU, MARVIN X
I WAS DOING RESEARCH ON THE INTERNET ABOUT THE BLACK POWER ERA AND I WAS READING SOME ARTICLES THAT YOU HAVE WRITTEN AND I'D THOUGHT THAT I'D WRITE TO SALUTE YOU AND APPLAUD YOUR EFFORTS IN THE EMERGENCE OF THE BLACK IS BEAUTIFUL MOVEMENT OF THE LATE 1960s.
WHAT KIND OF BLACK LIBERATION WORK ARE YOU DOING THESE DAYS?!?!?
...AND DO YOU THINK THAT THE WOMEN'S LIBERATION MOVEMENT DISTORTED THE GOALS AND ASPIRATIONS OF THE BLACK POWER MOVEMENT WHEN IT WAS IN IT'S GROWING INFANCY STAGE???
I WAS DOING RESEARCH ON THE INTERNET ABOUT THE BLACK POWER ERA AND I WAS READING SOME ARTICLES THAT YOU HAVE WRITTEN AND I'D THOUGHT THAT I'D WRITE TO SALUTE YOU AND APPLAUD YOUR EFFORTS IN THE EMERGENCE OF THE BLACK IS BEAUTIFUL MOVEMENT OF THE LATE 1960s.
WHAT KIND OF BLACK LIBERATION WORK ARE YOU DOING THESE DAYS?!?!?
...AND DO YOU THINK THAT THE WOMEN'S LIBERATION MOVEMENT DISTORTED THE GOALS AND ASPIRATIONS OF THE BLACK POWER MOVEMENT WHEN IT WAS IN IT'S GROWING INFANCY STAGE???
Poem: I Release You
I Release You
for SCJ
You said release you
I chanted I release you
three times
then you called with emergency
save your nephew
the boyz in the hood want his head
so I gave him refuge in the mountains
manhood training
a labor of love for you and him
since he is you and you are him
but my whole life is saving youth
what is the revolution about exceptsaving
the next generation
keeping them from getting caughtriding dirty
especially the brothers marked for extinction by society
with no use for them
except encaged
enslaved
ignorant
no thinkers wanted
no freedom fighters
no conscious poets and rappers
so I did my job can I get a little love a hug a kiss
no matter you have someone new
We feed you for Allah’s pleasure only
we desire neither reward nor thanks, Al Qur’an.
marvin x 4.3.07
for SCJ
You said release you
I chanted I release you
three times
then you called with emergency
save your nephew
the boyz in the hood want his head
so I gave him refuge in the mountains
manhood training
a labor of love for you and him
since he is you and you are him
but my whole life is saving youth
what is the revolution about exceptsaving
the next generation
keeping them from getting caughtriding dirty
especially the brothers marked for extinction by society
with no use for them
except encaged
enslaved
ignorant
no thinkers wanted
no freedom fighters
no conscious poets and rappers
so I did my job can I get a little love a hug a kiss
no matter you have someone new
We feed you for Allah’s pleasure only
we desire neither reward nor thanks, Al Qur’an.
marvin x 4.3.07
Who In the Hell is Marvin X?
I am Zaahir Muhammad of Newark NJ. I was listening to a commentary by Mumia Abu Jamal and he mentioned your name. I was like "who the hell is Marvin X?" so I searched and came across some of your history and comments. I would just like to say; THANK YOU. I always love to hear from the pioneers of our sojourn here in the Americas and want to tell that your sacrifice and struggles have not been in vain. I know that we are not a militant today (compared to the perception if not reality of the 60's and 70's) but I have met some strong Brothers and Sisters who are dedicated to change and are raising children who reflect that desire. If you are appearing on the East coast this year please let me know where. I would be honored to break bread with you. Thank you again,
As Salaam Alaikum
Zaahir Muhammad
As Salaam Alaikum
Zaahir Muhammad
Marvin X Told to Stay Out of Town
Oakland Post Newspaper to Marvin X: Stay Out of Town
Okay I will do an article in next week's edition only if you send me a different clear color photo
If the picture is good enough I will put it on the front page---
In other words we will promote anything that takes you out of town.
Paul Cobb,
Publisher
Okay I will do an article in next week's edition only if you send me a different clear color photo
If the picture is good enough I will put it on the front page---
In other words we will promote anything that takes you out of town.
Paul Cobb,
Publisher
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Response to Poem What If
Response to Poem What If
by Dana Rondel
My Thoughts:
On Saturday, April 7, 2007, I had the opportunity to hear Marvin X
recite his poem, “What If,” live in Philadelphia. The poem served as the
preface for the readings from his book, “Beyond Religion, Toward
Spirituality.”
I have shared only a portion of his poem within the preceding section,
but to hear it in its entirety, each word, from beginning to end, left my
heart filled with an emotion that I have yet to find an expression for.
Perhaps the best that I can say at this time is, what I felt is
indescribable. During the reading I found myself nodding my head and
saying, “yes, that’s right. Yes, that’s right. What if God is all
of these things? What if?”
After the poem was completed, I had much to say about all that I’d
heard, but I remained silent. I was compelled by my spirit to be still and to
reflect. I reflected mostly on the language, the words. “What if God
is…What if God is….” I thought about the duality of language. The
art of language. The power of language. I thought about definitions, symbolism
and metaphors.
As a writer and lover of language, I traveled back through my mind
remembering the phrases of the poem that most moved me. As I thought
about them I asked myself: Was it the words themselves that opened me up,
touching my heart and stimulating my mind? Did I come alive while
feeling the vibrations, the rhythm, and listening to the poetry and song of
language? Did I, as well, begin to feel guilty, because of what I had
just heard, the broader definition of God? I was reminded that at times
I’ve either forgotten or had not known that all is God? Did I forget or had
I not known that all that I’ve hated, cursed and feared were, too, God?
The language, the words that were spoken, had on one hand reminded me that
I am still a prisoner of my own ignorance and guilt, but the words had,
too, created for me a deeper awareness that had also set me free.
The mother that I have at times hated, the father that I have at times
resented, the boy, the girl, the man, the woman that I’ve neglected
to love without conditions, the alcoholic, drug addicts and dealers and
abuser that I have feared, too, are God. What if God is the look of
hope or the look of hopelessness we have seen in the eyes of every woman,
man and child, but refused to recognize, because too many of us have been
taught that God is not human? What if God is?
What if there were no words to describe God? There was no oral language
for what exists? What if life and all that is could be identified only
by a feeling, by the energies that move us, by the breath we breathe?
Would we then more easily recognize our sameness? What if God is all and all
is God? If God is all and all is God then why does the word God separate
us?
The duality of language. It is an art, it is poetry, it is song, it is
vibrations and rhythms that have the power to move us toward or away
from one another.
As we reflect more deeply on the words of the poem, as we come to
better understand its language, in the end, we learn that God has no
definition. God simply is…
by Dana Rondel
My Thoughts:
On Saturday, April 7, 2007, I had the opportunity to hear Marvin X
recite his poem, “What If,” live in Philadelphia. The poem served as the
preface for the readings from his book, “Beyond Religion, Toward
Spirituality.”
I have shared only a portion of his poem within the preceding section,
but to hear it in its entirety, each word, from beginning to end, left my
heart filled with an emotion that I have yet to find an expression for.
Perhaps the best that I can say at this time is, what I felt is
indescribable. During the reading I found myself nodding my head and
saying, “yes, that’s right. Yes, that’s right. What if God is all
of these things? What if?”
After the poem was completed, I had much to say about all that I’d
heard, but I remained silent. I was compelled by my spirit to be still and to
reflect. I reflected mostly on the language, the words. “What if God
is…What if God is….” I thought about the duality of language. The
art of language. The power of language. I thought about definitions, symbolism
and metaphors.
As a writer and lover of language, I traveled back through my mind
remembering the phrases of the poem that most moved me. As I thought
about them I asked myself: Was it the words themselves that opened me up,
touching my heart and stimulating my mind? Did I come alive while
feeling the vibrations, the rhythm, and listening to the poetry and song of
language? Did I, as well, begin to feel guilty, because of what I had
just heard, the broader definition of God? I was reminded that at times
I’ve either forgotten or had not known that all is God? Did I forget or had
I not known that all that I’ve hated, cursed and feared were, too, God?
The language, the words that were spoken, had on one hand reminded me that
I am still a prisoner of my own ignorance and guilt, but the words had,
too, created for me a deeper awareness that had also set me free.
The mother that I have at times hated, the father that I have at times
resented, the boy, the girl, the man, the woman that I’ve neglected
to love without conditions, the alcoholic, drug addicts and dealers and
abuser that I have feared, too, are God. What if God is the look of
hope or the look of hopelessness we have seen in the eyes of every woman,
man and child, but refused to recognize, because too many of us have been
taught that God is not human? What if God is?
What if there were no words to describe God? There was no oral language
for what exists? What if life and all that is could be identified only
by a feeling, by the energies that move us, by the breath we breathe?
Would we then more easily recognize our sameness? What if God is all and all
is God? If God is all and all is God then why does the word God separate
us?
The duality of language. It is an art, it is poetry, it is song, it is
vibrations and rhythms that have the power to move us toward or away
from one another.
As we reflect more deeply on the words of the poem, as we come to
better understand its language, in the end, we learn that God has no
definition. God simply is…
Rap and Spirituality
Rap and Spirituality
By Marvin X
Rap poetry and spoken word originated in Africa at the dawn of civilization, in the Nile Valley and the classical West African cultures. The poets were the priests, the magicians, the shamans, the scholars, the prophets and warriors. These poets were found in Moorish Spain, Arabia, Iraq and Persia, geographical areas infused with African culture and civilization.
In America, the African poetic mind emerged during the 19th century, but more prominently during the Black renaissance of the 1920s with Claude McKay, Langston Hughes, Sterling Brown, Countee Cullen, and during the 50s with the poets Bob Kaufman, LeRoi Jones, Ted Joans, Margarete Walker, Gwen Brooks and others.
Conscious rap is the direct descendant of the 1960s Black Arts Movement: Sonia Sanchez, Amiri Baraka, Askia Touré, Last Poets, Haki Madhubuti, Nikki Giovanni, Marvin X, and others.
The Black Arts poetry was short lived and conscious rap as well. Both were anathema to the US sham democracy and were replaced by academic muddle and street pussy and dick rap and pseudo gangsta rap. From a cursory viewing of current rap videos, one would think blacks are the world's greatest lovers, pimps and gangsta, and black women are sexual freaks, whores and gangsta bitches.
For revolutionary rap, one must check out the Palestinians and Muslim fundamentalist poets. They have the energy and message the blacks originated but were forced to abandon by record company pimps and low mentality black rappers. The BET music awards opened with Waylans joking about deaf, dumb and blind rappers—but it is no joke.
In the name of freedom of speech, we shall not condemn any lyrics for we are absolutely against censorship and abhor black bourgeoisie culture police who espouse the moral high ground while they wallow in conspicuous consumption and crass materialism that is as morally decadent as that of the rappers and hip hoppers they decry.
But for sure, the negative images in rap videos and abrasive lyrics (and I am known to use motherfucker, bitch and ho, on occasion) are a desecration of our culture, actually an insult to our ancestors who were paraded butt naked at slave marts from New York's African village (Wall Street, still a slave mart) to New Orleans and throughout the South, throughout the Americas for that matter: Cuba, Jamaica, Trinidad, Mexico, Brazil, Venezuela, Columbia, and elsewhere.
Of course language is a weapon in the cultural revolution, it can assault the enemy and free the slave from linguistic bondage. The oppressor and his lackeys cannot determine the language of the oppressed, that is our human right, part of our struggle for self determination. Ultimately, we determine and define the terms of our existence.
We determine what is profane and obscene. But what is more profane and obscene than poverty, ignorance and disease? Don't use language as a scapegoat for the continued exploitation and blood sucking of the poor.
But the rap videos are the modern coon shows, minstrel shows and battle royals of the antebellum South. What progress have we made from the slave mart moans to rapping about it's hard out here for a pimp? Think of all the brothers who were lynched for looking at a white woman. Snoop Dog can pimp white women on TV because she is the last weapon in the white man's arsenal against the black nation, as Elijah taught.
While you fought for freedom, suddenly the white woman jumped out of the box like jack to claim minority status and win rights and privilege rightfully deserved by black men and women. Keep pimpin, hustle and flow with your trailer house trash white girl, but you will never be anything until you embrace your black woman and stand with her, no matter how sick she is or how sick you are—go to the doctor together. Don't disgrace your mother with alien women. Remember Samson and Delilah.
Unconscious rap derives from the animal plane and must advance to the divine or spiritual plane if it is to be beneficial to our people. I must admit that I appreciate Christian rap in spite of lyrics based on juvenile mythology glorifying the after life and suggesting Jesus is God. If Jesus is God who was God before Jesus was born?
At least Christian rap is better than raps on the pussy and dick theme, glorifying crass materialism that reveals poverty consciousness— people who have money don't flash. How can anyone in their right mind glorify diamonds and gold that Africans died to procure for De Beers and others, Africans who had their arms and hands cut off in wars for filthy diamond merchants in Europe, Israel and New York?
Yes, better to rap about Jesus and pie in the sky than sista got a big ole butt. In the words of ancestor Paul Robeson, rappers must become artistic freedom fighters or give up the game, for rather than pimps, they are whores for the record industry, the filthy capitalist bloodsuckers of the poor.
Muslim rappers know their duty is to teach the uncivilized. They know they shall suffer a severe chastisement if they fail to perform their duty.
As descendants of Nile Valley poets, the poets of classical West African civilization, the poets of Arabia, of Persia, of Moorish Spain, whose poems and science brought Europe out of the Dark Ages into the Renaissance, and the poets who inspired our people with the sorrow songs and songs of inspiration to endure and transcend the terror of slavery and pseudo Reconstruction, segregation and civil rites opportunism, we must continue our radical tradition or be cursed by our ancestors and God Almighty.
p
By Marvin X
Rap poetry and spoken word originated in Africa at the dawn of civilization, in the Nile Valley and the classical West African cultures. The poets were the priests, the magicians, the shamans, the scholars, the prophets and warriors. These poets were found in Moorish Spain, Arabia, Iraq and Persia, geographical areas infused with African culture and civilization.
In America, the African poetic mind emerged during the 19th century, but more prominently during the Black renaissance of the 1920s with Claude McKay, Langston Hughes, Sterling Brown, Countee Cullen, and during the 50s with the poets Bob Kaufman, LeRoi Jones, Ted Joans, Margarete Walker, Gwen Brooks and others.
Conscious rap is the direct descendant of the 1960s Black Arts Movement: Sonia Sanchez, Amiri Baraka, Askia Touré, Last Poets, Haki Madhubuti, Nikki Giovanni, Marvin X, and others.
The Black Arts poetry was short lived and conscious rap as well. Both were anathema to the US sham democracy and were replaced by academic muddle and street pussy and dick rap and pseudo gangsta rap. From a cursory viewing of current rap videos, one would think blacks are the world's greatest lovers, pimps and gangsta, and black women are sexual freaks, whores and gangsta bitches.
For revolutionary rap, one must check out the Palestinians and Muslim fundamentalist poets. They have the energy and message the blacks originated but were forced to abandon by record company pimps and low mentality black rappers. The BET music awards opened with Waylans joking about deaf, dumb and blind rappers—but it is no joke.
In the name of freedom of speech, we shall not condemn any lyrics for we are absolutely against censorship and abhor black bourgeoisie culture police who espouse the moral high ground while they wallow in conspicuous consumption and crass materialism that is as morally decadent as that of the rappers and hip hoppers they decry.
But for sure, the negative images in rap videos and abrasive lyrics (and I am known to use motherfucker, bitch and ho, on occasion) are a desecration of our culture, actually an insult to our ancestors who were paraded butt naked at slave marts from New York's African village (Wall Street, still a slave mart) to New Orleans and throughout the South, throughout the Americas for that matter: Cuba, Jamaica, Trinidad, Mexico, Brazil, Venezuela, Columbia, and elsewhere.
Of course language is a weapon in the cultural revolution, it can assault the enemy and free the slave from linguistic bondage. The oppressor and his lackeys cannot determine the language of the oppressed, that is our human right, part of our struggle for self determination. Ultimately, we determine and define the terms of our existence.
We determine what is profane and obscene. But what is more profane and obscene than poverty, ignorance and disease? Don't use language as a scapegoat for the continued exploitation and blood sucking of the poor.
But the rap videos are the modern coon shows, minstrel shows and battle royals of the antebellum South. What progress have we made from the slave mart moans to rapping about it's hard out here for a pimp? Think of all the brothers who were lynched for looking at a white woman. Snoop Dog can pimp white women on TV because she is the last weapon in the white man's arsenal against the black nation, as Elijah taught.
While you fought for freedom, suddenly the white woman jumped out of the box like jack to claim minority status and win rights and privilege rightfully deserved by black men and women. Keep pimpin, hustle and flow with your trailer house trash white girl, but you will never be anything until you embrace your black woman and stand with her, no matter how sick she is or how sick you are—go to the doctor together. Don't disgrace your mother with alien women. Remember Samson and Delilah.
Unconscious rap derives from the animal plane and must advance to the divine or spiritual plane if it is to be beneficial to our people. I must admit that I appreciate Christian rap in spite of lyrics based on juvenile mythology glorifying the after life and suggesting Jesus is God. If Jesus is God who was God before Jesus was born?
At least Christian rap is better than raps on the pussy and dick theme, glorifying crass materialism that reveals poverty consciousness— people who have money don't flash. How can anyone in their right mind glorify diamonds and gold that Africans died to procure for De Beers and others, Africans who had their arms and hands cut off in wars for filthy diamond merchants in Europe, Israel and New York?
Yes, better to rap about Jesus and pie in the sky than sista got a big ole butt. In the words of ancestor Paul Robeson, rappers must become artistic freedom fighters or give up the game, for rather than pimps, they are whores for the record industry, the filthy capitalist bloodsuckers of the poor.
Muslim rappers know their duty is to teach the uncivilized. They know they shall suffer a severe chastisement if they fail to perform their duty.
As descendants of Nile Valley poets, the poets of classical West African civilization, the poets of Arabia, of Persia, of Moorish Spain, whose poems and science brought Europe out of the Dark Ages into the Renaissance, and the poets who inspired our people with the sorrow songs and songs of inspiration to endure and transcend the terror of slavery and pseudo Reconstruction, segregation and civil rites opportunism, we must continue our radical tradition or be cursed by our ancestors and God Almighty.
p
Hartford, CT: Black Bourgeoisie Host Marvin X
Hartford, Conn: Black Bourgeoisie Host Marvin X
Marvin X's East coast book tour came to Hartford, Conn last Friday. Hartford is midway between Boston and New York, thus a hot real estate market, so the poet learned from his host, a mortgage company owner, and other guests who were real estate brokers and investors. The event was catered and the bar tender a nice white woman who asked the poet what happens at a book party. Apparently she wasn't the only one who didn't know as many guests came without cash and had to borrow money from the host to purchase his books. Co-host Dana Rondel, a young novelist, introduced the poet and what followed was the most intense discussion of spirituality during his tour. A Christian brother talked about belief as central to religion but was corrected by brother Sabu, a physics professor, who explained that belief doesn't count, only knowledge. It can be a bright sunny day outside but the believer is convinced it is raining.
The next day at a private reading, Nikki Miles, member of the Hartford Queen Afua circle, said religion is for followers, spirituality for leaders.
Dana, the young novelist, was able to do the impossible with Mr. X: not only did she take him out to dance at a local club, but made him take a walk for exercise. He did so kicking and screaming, but he walked.
The poet ends his tour on Friday at Sista's Place in Brooklyn and in Washington DC on Saturday at the Umoja Gallery, 5pm and Harambee Radio anniversary celebration, 8pm.
Marvin X's East coast book tour came to Hartford, Conn last Friday. Hartford is midway between Boston and New York, thus a hot real estate market, so the poet learned from his host, a mortgage company owner, and other guests who were real estate brokers and investors. The event was catered and the bar tender a nice white woman who asked the poet what happens at a book party. Apparently she wasn't the only one who didn't know as many guests came without cash and had to borrow money from the host to purchase his books. Co-host Dana Rondel, a young novelist, introduced the poet and what followed was the most intense discussion of spirituality during his tour. A Christian brother talked about belief as central to religion but was corrected by brother Sabu, a physics professor, who explained that belief doesn't count, only knowledge. It can be a bright sunny day outside but the believer is convinced it is raining.
The next day at a private reading, Nikki Miles, member of the Hartford Queen Afua circle, said religion is for followers, spirituality for leaders.
Dana, the young novelist, was able to do the impossible with Mr. X: not only did she take him out to dance at a local club, but made him take a walk for exercise. He did so kicking and screaming, but he walked.
The poet ends his tour on Friday at Sista's Place in Brooklyn and in Washington DC on Saturday at the Umoja Gallery, 5pm and Harambee Radio anniversary celebration, 8pm.
Response to Black Sisyphus
Most of us have never known who God is. We were told, and shown, that is was/is a white man, suffering, and hanging from a cross. Most of our people, children included, still hold onto that false idea.
A return to our Spirituality is critical to our overcoming this condition of mental enslavement. To do so, we must learn to meditate, contemplate, create our reality inside ourselves, then, spring it on the world.The study of history will reveal to us who and what we truly are, spiritual beings.
Maat Hetep
Kweku
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Re: Black Sisyphus
Marvin!
You're absolutely correct! Iwish I had a good response to your
comments, but the turth is I don't. Today I sat in court and watched
the judge take about 6 children from their parents. One woman 23 had
three children three different daddies and did not have a place to live.
This is the reason my sister and I have started promote strong, black
families. Because we are losing too many of our children to the system.
I have had a loooooooong day! Too long to write about the condition of
our people. The problem is spiritual--- Many of us have forgotten who
God is.
Brenda Sutton
A return to our Spirituality is critical to our overcoming this condition of mental enslavement. To do so, we must learn to meditate, contemplate, create our reality inside ourselves, then, spring it on the world.The study of history will reveal to us who and what we truly are, spiritual beings.
Maat Hetep
Kweku
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Re: Black Sisyphus
Marvin!
You're absolutely correct! Iwish I had a good response to your
comments, but the turth is I don't. Today I sat in court and watched
the judge take about 6 children from their parents. One woman 23 had
three children three different daddies and did not have a place to live.
This is the reason my sister and I have started promote strong, black
families. Because we are losing too many of our children to the system.
I have had a loooooooong day! Too long to write about the condition of
our people. The problem is spiritual--- Many of us have forgotten who
God is.
Brenda Sutton
More On the Black Sisyphus Syndrome
More On Black Sisyphus
The process of creating strong black families must be part of our overall war strategy. But first we must understand we are in a state of war and the goal is national liberation, not integration. To become an American is to become the enemy of the world for we cannot only blame the government because the people are responsible for the government. If the people do not remove the no good government, then the people are guilty of crimes against humanity as well.
To fight a war, we must be mentally prepared. We think this is a game because we send our children to the enemy for education, we embrace an alien religion or religions, we support consumerism and materialism, not spirituality. JC told us to be in this world but not of this world--but to the contrary we are in this world and of this world. We embrace any and all fads, trends, slogans, flags, economic scams such as sub prime loans leading to foreclosures; we are duped by the latest black savior--never do we plan for war or teach our children we are in a state of war, thus when they are slaughtered before our eyes in the hood, all we do is continue weeping and mourning, but no action to counter the slaughter coming from preachers, teachers and politicians who are mostly part of the problem, not part of the solution, for they have no solution to get us safely out of the box, out of the danger zone. And thus at the end of day we are at the bottom of the hill with rock in hand.
--Marvin X
The process of creating strong black families must be part of our overall war strategy. But first we must understand we are in a state of war and the goal is national liberation, not integration. To become an American is to become the enemy of the world for we cannot only blame the government because the people are responsible for the government. If the people do not remove the no good government, then the people are guilty of crimes against humanity as well.
To fight a war, we must be mentally prepared. We think this is a game because we send our children to the enemy for education, we embrace an alien religion or religions, we support consumerism and materialism, not spirituality. JC told us to be in this world but not of this world--but to the contrary we are in this world and of this world. We embrace any and all fads, trends, slogans, flags, economic scams such as sub prime loans leading to foreclosures; we are duped by the latest black savior--never do we plan for war or teach our children we are in a state of war, thus when they are slaughtered before our eyes in the hood, all we do is continue weeping and mourning, but no action to counter the slaughter coming from preachers, teachers and politicians who are mostly part of the problem, not part of the solution, for they have no solution to get us safely out of the box, out of the danger zone. And thus at the end of day we are at the bottom of the hill with rock in hand.
--Marvin X
Dr. Nathan Hare Responds to Black Sisyphus
Good God, Marvin,
Great God A' mighty!"
www.blackthinktank. com
_____
From: Blacklines@yahoogro ups.com [mailto:Blacklines@yahoogro ups.com] On
Behalf Of Marvin X
Sent: Thursday, April 26, 2007 12:43 PM
To: Blacklines@yahoogro ups.com
Subject: [Blacklines Magazine] Black Sisyphus
Black Sisyphus
Unless and Until we address our myriad problems as self-directed leaders,
spiritually protected by the Armour of God, there is no hope for us. We are
indeed like Sisyphus and shall continue rolling the rock of justice and
freedom up the hill, but it shall surely fall down again and we with it.
--Marvin X
Great God A' mighty!"
www.blackthinktank. com
_____
From: Blacklines@yahoogro ups.com [mailto:Blacklines@yahoogro ups.com] On
Behalf Of Marvin X
Sent: Thursday, April 26, 2007 12:43 PM
To: Blacklines@yahoogro ups.com
Subject: [Blacklines Magazine] Black Sisyphus
Black Sisyphus
Unless and Until we address our myriad problems as self-directed leaders,
spiritually protected by the Armour of God, there is no hope for us. We are
indeed like Sisyphus and shall continue rolling the rock of justice and
freedom up the hill, but it shall surely fall down again and we with it.
--Marvin X
Response to Poem for Marvin X
That's nice, I know that makes you feel wonderful, special. I think
everyone needs a poem for themselves every once in a while. It's like
flowers or chocolate or other things that make people feel warm inside.
Nefertiti el Muhajir
everyone needs a poem for themselves every once in a while. It's like
flowers or chocolate or other things that make people feel warm inside.
Nefertiti el Muhajir
Poem: Street Spirits (for Marvin X)
Street Spirits (Poem for Marvin X)
under a red sky
you have roamed
the streets of San Francisco
rapping about homeless blues
in your poetry
in your life
in your spirit
under a red sky
i saw you
once selling the Poetry Flash
to rich tourists and wondered
whether you would become
the next Bob Kaufman
under a red sky
you have roamed the beaches
of the Golden State
praying here and there
remembering your sweet Sherley
confessing your sins and mistakes
under a red sky
you have remembered
that a poet is full
of great feelings
of love
for God
for self
for others
whether the poet
is homeless
or not
under a red sky
you have helped me
to embrace
the street spirits
and the rays
of a red sun
with your poetry
with your life
with your spirit.
by J. Vern Cromarte
under a red sky
you have roamed
the streets of San Francisco
rapping about homeless blues
in your poetry
in your life
in your spirit
under a red sky
i saw you
once selling the Poetry Flash
to rich tourists and wondered
whether you would become
the next Bob Kaufman
under a red sky
you have roamed the beaches
of the Golden State
praying here and there
remembering your sweet Sherley
confessing your sins and mistakes
under a red sky
you have remembered
that a poet is full
of great feelings
of love
for God
for self
for others
whether the poet
is homeless
or not
under a red sky
you have helped me
to embrace
the street spirits
and the rays
of a red sun
with your poetry
with your life
with your spirit.
by J. Vern Cromarte
Poem: Elegy for Sweet Paula Shular
Elegy for Sweet Paula Shular
For you, Paula
Who handled yo bizness
Who enjoyed the best of life
The joy and the pain of it all
What else is life about: joy and pain
Sun and rain
Some want the sun all the time
They run from the rain
But no cross no crown.
You suffered the cross
So now you shall wear the crown of eternity
There is no death in eternity,
Somebody say ache, amen.
The Africans say the only death is to be forgotten
Sweet, Paula, you shall never be forgotten
Your smile, your laugh, your joy, your love
Shall be with us always and forever
You did the best you could with what you had
Who can ask for anything more
A true trooper
You know how we used to do it
Coast to coast
Frisco, Oaktown, Berkeley , New York , Newark , Philly
When I did the show, you did the show bizness
I didn’t have to worry, you paid the musicians, got them in the limo
Leroy had your back
Remember that Night in Newark at the Baraka’s house
You and Leroy heard them talking late into the night
Amina told Amiri, “Don’t mess us up! Don’t mess us up!”
Yeah, she told him to handle his bizness.
We gonna miss you soldier
But you remain forever a sweet memory
A little angel chile
Who came down from heaven only for a moment
Then returned home
Surely we are from Allah and to Him we return.
For Leroy who caught you at the bus stop
when you were young and tenda
Better know he loves you
He loves you and honors you in life and death
You helped him find the many mansions in His Father’s house
You know that nigguh was a fool for you
Don’t you ever doubt it, Sweet Paula
You gave him that wonder child, Yusef
We don’t know what he gonna be
But he Gemini
So you know he gonna be something else
Ride on, Sweet Paula
Ride into eternal life
Ride into the sun
Dance upon the sea upon the waves
Walk upon the water like Jesus
Tell the water, tell the waves, tell the wind
Peace be still
Peace be still
Peace be still.
As-Salaam-Alaikum
--Marvin X, Minister of Poetry, 8-25-05
_______
For you, Paula
Who handled yo bizness
Who enjoyed the best of life
The joy and the pain of it all
What else is life about: joy and pain
Sun and rain
Some want the sun all the time
They run from the rain
But no cross no crown.
You suffered the cross
So now you shall wear the crown of eternity
There is no death in eternity,
Somebody say ache, amen.
The Africans say the only death is to be forgotten
Sweet, Paula, you shall never be forgotten
Your smile, your laugh, your joy, your love
Shall be with us always and forever
You did the best you could with what you had
Who can ask for anything more
A true trooper
You know how we used to do it
Coast to coast
Frisco, Oaktown, Berkeley , New York , Newark , Philly
When I did the show, you did the show bizness
I didn’t have to worry, you paid the musicians, got them in the limo
Leroy had your back
Remember that Night in Newark at the Baraka’s house
You and Leroy heard them talking late into the night
Amina told Amiri, “Don’t mess us up! Don’t mess us up!”
Yeah, she told him to handle his bizness.
We gonna miss you soldier
But you remain forever a sweet memory
A little angel chile
Who came down from heaven only for a moment
Then returned home
Surely we are from Allah and to Him we return.
For Leroy who caught you at the bus stop
when you were young and tenda
Better know he loves you
He loves you and honors you in life and death
You helped him find the many mansions in His Father’s house
You know that nigguh was a fool for you
Don’t you ever doubt it, Sweet Paula
You gave him that wonder child, Yusef
We don’t know what he gonna be
But he Gemini
So you know he gonna be something else
Ride on, Sweet Paula
Ride into eternal life
Ride into the sun
Dance upon the sea upon the waves
Walk upon the water like Jesus
Tell the water, tell the waves, tell the wind
Peace be still
Peace be still
Peace be still.
As-Salaam-Alaikum
--Marvin X, Minister of Poetry, 8-25-05
_______
Movie Review: Mangamizi
Mangamizi
Review by Marvin X
Mangamizi is a film in the genre of Daughter's of the Dust and Sankofa, it even stars BabraraO from 'Daughter's of the Dust. So let's get to point of this film that has won awards at several international film festivals, though few have heard about it.
I have long maintained that before African Americans can heal the trauma of White Supremacy they must make peace with their southern roots, the pain of slavery in all it vicissitudes. This film justifies me thesis that we must indeed come to peace with the terror of Alabama, Mississippi, Georgia, and the rest of the south before we can truly be healed. Whatever the south mean to us or means to us now, we must come to grips with it before we can deal with Mother Africa.
It the film the African American psychiatrist (Barabra O) goes to Tanzania to work in a mental hospital, but she cannot heal the Africans until the Africans come to terms with who she is as long lost daughter and she cannot deal with Africans until she is woman enough to confront the terror of African American oppression, there is a leit motif of lynching to allow us to see her suffering, even though she is a doctor on a mission to heal her African brothers and sisters.
But she cannot heal her primary patient until the patient understands that the doctor from America is her salvation, not in a medical sense but in a spiritual sense.
After the African sister is traumatized by seeing her father burn her mother to death in a hut, the child refuses to speak until the wise woman Manzamizi (also grandmother) entreats her to connect with her African American sister, that is her salvation.
But as I said above, the African Americans must heal from the terror of America, not their disconnection with Africa as usually told African Americans. Supposedly, we cannot be healed until we come to terms with our Africanity, but this film flips the script as many revolutionaries and radicals have discovered: we must come to terms with our Americanity it all it vicissitudes. amd we will have no problem with Africa.
With their attitude of jealousy and envy as expressed in the film, clearly, it is Africans who must adjust to African Americans. The film showed our African brothers and sisters as the playa haters of African Americans, and certainly the star patient had reservations about reconecting with her African American sister, but the was the point of the film: that until Africans come to terms with African Americans, no healing can come to Africa, even though she has her neo-colonial problems with religion, Western religion, Christianity, the father being so dogamatic and savage that he burns his wife alive because her daughter is supposedly under witchcraft when it is clear the father is a devil under the power of a pseudo-Jesus. What Jesus told him to burn his wife alive in the granery hut?
The most powerful scene is the father in hell begging his daughter for forgiveness. And she forgives him, thus transcending the pseudo-Christianity of her father, to the objection of her wise woman, grandmother, Manzimizi, who said to hell with the father, let him burn in hell for dissing the ancestors in favor of Christianity.
Review by Marvin X
Mangamizi is a film in the genre of Daughter's of the Dust and Sankofa, it even stars BabraraO from 'Daughter's of the Dust. So let's get to point of this film that has won awards at several international film festivals, though few have heard about it.
I have long maintained that before African Americans can heal the trauma of White Supremacy they must make peace with their southern roots, the pain of slavery in all it vicissitudes. This film justifies me thesis that we must indeed come to peace with the terror of Alabama, Mississippi, Georgia, and the rest of the south before we can truly be healed. Whatever the south mean to us or means to us now, we must come to grips with it before we can deal with Mother Africa.
It the film the African American psychiatrist (Barabra O) goes to Tanzania to work in a mental hospital, but she cannot heal the Africans until the Africans come to terms with who she is as long lost daughter and she cannot deal with Africans until she is woman enough to confront the terror of African American oppression, there is a leit motif of lynching to allow us to see her suffering, even though she is a doctor on a mission to heal her African brothers and sisters.
But she cannot heal her primary patient until the patient understands that the doctor from America is her salvation, not in a medical sense but in a spiritual sense.
After the African sister is traumatized by seeing her father burn her mother to death in a hut, the child refuses to speak until the wise woman Manzamizi (also grandmother) entreats her to connect with her African American sister, that is her salvation.
But as I said above, the African Americans must heal from the terror of America, not their disconnection with Africa as usually told African Americans. Supposedly, we cannot be healed until we come to terms with our Africanity, but this film flips the script as many revolutionaries and radicals have discovered: we must come to terms with our Americanity it all it vicissitudes. amd we will have no problem with Africa.
With their attitude of jealousy and envy as expressed in the film, clearly, it is Africans who must adjust to African Americans. The film showed our African brothers and sisters as the playa haters of African Americans, and certainly the star patient had reservations about reconecting with her African American sister, but the was the point of the film: that until Africans come to terms with African Americans, no healing can come to Africa, even though she has her neo-colonial problems with religion, Western religion, Christianity, the father being so dogamatic and savage that he burns his wife alive because her daughter is supposedly under witchcraft when it is clear the father is a devil under the power of a pseudo-Jesus. What Jesus told him to burn his wife alive in the granery hut?
The most powerful scene is the father in hell begging his daughter for forgiveness. And she forgives him, thus transcending the pseudo-Christianity of her father, to the objection of her wise woman, grandmother, Manzimizi, who said to hell with the father, let him burn in hell for dissing the ancestors in favor of Christianity.
Poem: When I Think About the Women In My Life
When I Think About the Women In My Life
When I think about the women in my life
I can say that there have been no women in my life
They have all been angels who blessed me with love
Flowing from the rivers of life freely
There is no measure to their love there is no equal
I cannot compare one love to another
How can one compare the angelic
This angel did that or that angel did this
I won’t compare
Look at the mothers of my children
Look at the gifts they gave me
So precious and sweet I would never compare
I will only say thank you mothers for the fruit of your womb
I have seen the fruit of your womb flower and be great in the land
And I am humbled
And to the other angels who shared so many years
My revolutionary sisters who battled with me and gave me guidance
When I was in the dark
Who talked of building cities while I wrote poems
I extend my love to you my eternal love for your vision and dreams
That even I couldn’t see
You were the nationalist I was the poet so you showed me the way
And I followed kicking and screaming
To the sex workers who showed me love in the night
I salute you because you told me I was too rough to be a pimp
I could never be a pimp you said I was simply too rough
Learn to be more gentle you said
And I tried and thank you for serving me in the night
For Patricia for my sons
For Nisa for my daughter
For Hasana for Amira and Nefertiti
I salute you forever and ever
For Marsha who suffered with me on crack and died before I recovered
I know you see me now in Cherokee where you said I needed to be
In a place proper for a classic black man artist
I love you Marsha and think of you always knowing there is only one place
An angel can dwell but in heaven
No sweeter angel ever came on God’s earth
No one more beautiful with brown eyes and unconditional love
A Berkeley Girl
Smart and hot as fire and willing to give beyond all
For Pamela in the Valley
Who like Khadijah financed my come up
Who worries more than I want to know
Relax my sister
There are very few things in life of importance
Rumi told you it don’t matter
If you come to the garden
If you don’t come to the garden
It don’t matter
For God is
God is all and all is God
Nothing else matters.
You came to me and never left me as I came to you
Your fears are not my fears so I won’t go there with you
There is no fear in love there is only love In love
If there is something else in love it is not love but fear
And I do not go into the room where fear lives
If you come from the room of fear you will find love everlasting
Come from fear and see the sun of love
What you love belongs to you and you alone
No one can take love from you what God has granted
Hurriyah is my warrior woman from my youth
Who shared my revolutionary days my dreams my fears
A million years cannot tare me from your love
You can be with a million men but I am still yours
That’s how love is somebody better get a healing
Up in here.
And Celeste
Yes, another angel from Berkeley
Watch out for those Berkeley girls
Hot and smart like no other
So now you know me
Better act like you know me
Cause this is it girlfriend
I’m willing if you willing
If you willing to come to garden
I’m willing but it don’t matter
If you ain’t willing to come to the garden
I’m willing
But it don’t matter.
Let the people say Ache. Amen. As-Salaam-Alaikum.
Marvin X
8-5-05
When I think about the women in my life
I can say that there have been no women in my life
They have all been angels who blessed me with love
Flowing from the rivers of life freely
There is no measure to their love there is no equal
I cannot compare one love to another
How can one compare the angelic
This angel did that or that angel did this
I won’t compare
Look at the mothers of my children
Look at the gifts they gave me
So precious and sweet I would never compare
I will only say thank you mothers for the fruit of your womb
I have seen the fruit of your womb flower and be great in the land
And I am humbled
And to the other angels who shared so many years
My revolutionary sisters who battled with me and gave me guidance
When I was in the dark
Who talked of building cities while I wrote poems
I extend my love to you my eternal love for your vision and dreams
That even I couldn’t see
You were the nationalist I was the poet so you showed me the way
And I followed kicking and screaming
To the sex workers who showed me love in the night
I salute you because you told me I was too rough to be a pimp
I could never be a pimp you said I was simply too rough
Learn to be more gentle you said
And I tried and thank you for serving me in the night
For Patricia for my sons
For Nisa for my daughter
For Hasana for Amira and Nefertiti
I salute you forever and ever
For Marsha who suffered with me on crack and died before I recovered
I know you see me now in Cherokee where you said I needed to be
In a place proper for a classic black man artist
I love you Marsha and think of you always knowing there is only one place
An angel can dwell but in heaven
No sweeter angel ever came on God’s earth
No one more beautiful with brown eyes and unconditional love
A Berkeley Girl
Smart and hot as fire and willing to give beyond all
For Pamela in the Valley
Who like Khadijah financed my come up
Who worries more than I want to know
Relax my sister
There are very few things in life of importance
Rumi told you it don’t matter
If you come to the garden
If you don’t come to the garden
It don’t matter
For God is
God is all and all is God
Nothing else matters.
You came to me and never left me as I came to you
Your fears are not my fears so I won’t go there with you
There is no fear in love there is only love In love
If there is something else in love it is not love but fear
And I do not go into the room where fear lives
If you come from the room of fear you will find love everlasting
Come from fear and see the sun of love
What you love belongs to you and you alone
No one can take love from you what God has granted
Hurriyah is my warrior woman from my youth
Who shared my revolutionary days my dreams my fears
A million years cannot tare me from your love
You can be with a million men but I am still yours
That’s how love is somebody better get a healing
Up in here.
And Celeste
Yes, another angel from Berkeley
Watch out for those Berkeley girls
Hot and smart like no other
So now you know me
Better act like you know me
Cause this is it girlfriend
I’m willing if you willing
If you willing to come to garden
I’m willing but it don’t matter
If you ain’t willing to come to the garden
I’m willing
But it don’t matter.
Let the people say Ache. Amen. As-Salaam-Alaikum.
Marvin X
8-5-05
Eddie Huff Responds to Marvin X
Response to Marvin X's London Bridges Falling Down
Marvin,
With all due respect, this is Bull Crap! First of all, the millions of Muslims living in England were not forced there as were Black Africans and they are not now being held there against their wills. If it is so horrible there, allow them to migrate back to their preferred land.
Why should the British, or Americans, or any nationality be expected to change their culture to adapt that of a migrant minority vs. the other way around. Try that any where else, and the same people screaming foul here will go bizerk.
In fact, let us use Mexico for example. We hear how we need to understand the needs of hard working people trying to make a better way here, but try that down there. Try having a traffic accident and no insurance. Try sneaking in from another Central American nation. Asking them to accommodate your inability to speak the language, give you free medical, free education, and welfare. No, you will be arrested, and if you are lucky deported back to where you came from.
You say this is not based upon religious fanaticism, but I beg to differ. It has everything to do with that. We allow Muslims to live and visit here practicing their faith openly without question. They are in a war to remove all western influence from their lands. So, they want to be able to come here and spread their beliefs, but block the same in their lands. They wish to create a Mecca like (Christian/Hebrew free) state throughout the middle east, and then beyond. I say it ain't gonna happen. They will get the Jihad they seem to long for, and it will not be pretty.
Eddie Huff
Marvin,
With all due respect, this is Bull Crap! First of all, the millions of Muslims living in England were not forced there as were Black Africans and they are not now being held there against their wills. If it is so horrible there, allow them to migrate back to their preferred land.
Why should the British, or Americans, or any nationality be expected to change their culture to adapt that of a migrant minority vs. the other way around. Try that any where else, and the same people screaming foul here will go bizerk.
In fact, let us use Mexico for example. We hear how we need to understand the needs of hard working people trying to make a better way here, but try that down there. Try having a traffic accident and no insurance. Try sneaking in from another Central American nation. Asking them to accommodate your inability to speak the language, give you free medical, free education, and welfare. No, you will be arrested, and if you are lucky deported back to where you came from.
You say this is not based upon religious fanaticism, but I beg to differ. It has everything to do with that. We allow Muslims to live and visit here practicing their faith openly without question. They are in a war to remove all western influence from their lands. So, they want to be able to come here and spread their beliefs, but block the same in their lands. They wish to create a Mecca like (Christian/Hebrew free) state throughout the middle east, and then beyond. I say it ain't gonna happen. They will get the Jihad they seem to long for, and it will not be pretty.
Eddie Huff
Black Reconstruction or How To Recover From the Addiction to White Supremacy, A Peer Group Session
The Esteemed Dr. Nathan Hare
Every Wednesday, 6-7:30PM, 133 Golden Gate
Marvin X and the Last Poets
at Recovery Theatre, Friday, July 4, 8PM
Black Reconstruction Week Two
By Marvin X
I got into San Francisco around five PM, an hour before the group session and 45 minutes before I was to pick up Dr. Hare. I was hungry, so I thought about that Tenderloin Arab chicken that tastes so good nigguhs swear the Arabs put dope in it to make you keep coming back.
So I went to the funky liquor store and got some chicken wings, even though I know I should not be eating funky chicken if I want to live, so I must be suicidal, since I'm overweight and refuse to exercise. Anyway, if I can't save myself, maybe I can save somebody else.
As I was getting out of my car I saw this little white woman coming up the street and recognized her. She was Mona. I knew her from my dope fiend days in the Tenderloin, San Francisco's multiracial ghetto, next to downtown, a block from the Cable Car line. I knew Mona's husband, now deceased from crack. He was called Red and he reminded me of Malcolm X, Red was just shorter, but he could pass for Malcolm. Mona had sent Red home to Mississippi to recover but when his retroactive disability check came, she sent for him and he returned to San Francisco to immediately kill himself on crack.
Before he went to Mississippi, their child had picked up some crack crumbs off the floor and went into seizure. He was taken to the hospital and after cocaine was found in his system, the child protective services took the child. The sad thing about Mona is that she wasn't a crack addict but the codependent. I could see that time and the pain of life has almost destroyed her, so I begged her to come to the group meeting. Years ago, she surprised me when she showed up at a performance of my play ONE DAY IN THE LIFE. She came all the way to East Oakland and Frisco people don't come to Oakland--it's too far, being only ten minutes away.
Mona pointed out her stepson down the block standing with some crack heads. I remembered the boy when he was about seven, now he was 21. I asked her how he was doing, she shook her head. So I walked down to greet him. He said he remembered me when I used to sell incense near the Cable Car but that I had gained quite a few pounds since then. He said he was a poet--all hip hop youth are poets, if you didn't know, so I invited him to the Last Poets concert at my Recovery Theatre, July 4. He said he'd try to make it. Now he looked like a white boy with blue eyes, but he was a soul brother--one drop of black blood makes him that, right?I went inside the liquor store to get my chicken wings and walked to my car, standing eating on the street like the common dope fiend I used to be. A negro walked up to me and began telling me his life story, as if I knew him for a thousand years. He said his wife had his two cars because he didn't want to get anymore speeding tickets. He said he would help me pass out flyers about the Last Poets but he won't promise to come because he didn't want to be a hypocrite. When I asked him to come to the group meeting, he said no because he had crack in his pocket and again, didn't want to be a hypocrite.
I threw my chickenbones to the pigeons and proceeded up the block pass Glide Church, heading to Dr. Hare's office. At Ellis and Jones, I saw a Muslim dope fiend, put the car in reverse and called him over. First thing he said was he needed five dollars. I told him to get his motherfucking ass in the car and come with me. He repeated his dying need for five dollars. I told him to shut the fuck up and get in.
He submitted, wanting to know where we were going. I told him I was taking him to a meeting, but first I had to pick up Dr. Hare. I could tell he wanted to jump out the car to continue his mission for his five dollar bump of crack. We picked up Dr. Hare and proceeded to Recovery Theatre.
Dr. Hare told us the story of how he discovered black studies when he was five. The teachers put him in a room full of black children's literature and he read everything in the room. We got to the theatre and went inside. The Muslim dope fiend continued begging me for five dollars and I told him to take his ass back inside and sit next to Dr. Hare, which he did and finally calmed down and stayed for the entire meeting, telling the group it was the best thing that ever happened to him in a long time.
Every Wednesday, 6-7:30PM, 133 Golden Gate
Marvin X and the Last Poets
at Recovery Theatre, Friday, July 4, 8PM
Black Reconstruction Week Two
By Marvin X
I got into San Francisco around five PM, an hour before the group session and 45 minutes before I was to pick up Dr. Hare. I was hungry, so I thought about that Tenderloin Arab chicken that tastes so good nigguhs swear the Arabs put dope in it to make you keep coming back.
So I went to the funky liquor store and got some chicken wings, even though I know I should not be eating funky chicken if I want to live, so I must be suicidal, since I'm overweight and refuse to exercise. Anyway, if I can't save myself, maybe I can save somebody else.
As I was getting out of my car I saw this little white woman coming up the street and recognized her. She was Mona. I knew her from my dope fiend days in the Tenderloin, San Francisco's multiracial ghetto, next to downtown, a block from the Cable Car line. I knew Mona's husband, now deceased from crack. He was called Red and he reminded me of Malcolm X, Red was just shorter, but he could pass for Malcolm. Mona had sent Red home to Mississippi to recover but when his retroactive disability check came, she sent for him and he returned to San Francisco to immediately kill himself on crack.
Before he went to Mississippi, their child had picked up some crack crumbs off the floor and went into seizure. He was taken to the hospital and after cocaine was found in his system, the child protective services took the child. The sad thing about Mona is that she wasn't a crack addict but the codependent. I could see that time and the pain of life has almost destroyed her, so I begged her to come to the group meeting. Years ago, she surprised me when she showed up at a performance of my play ONE DAY IN THE LIFE. She came all the way to East Oakland and Frisco people don't come to Oakland--it's too far, being only ten minutes away.
Mona pointed out her stepson down the block standing with some crack heads. I remembered the boy when he was about seven, now he was 21. I asked her how he was doing, she shook her head. So I walked down to greet him. He said he remembered me when I used to sell incense near the Cable Car but that I had gained quite a few pounds since then. He said he was a poet--all hip hop youth are poets, if you didn't know, so I invited him to the Last Poets concert at my Recovery Theatre, July 4. He said he'd try to make it. Now he looked like a white boy with blue eyes, but he was a soul brother--one drop of black blood makes him that, right?I went inside the liquor store to get my chicken wings and walked to my car, standing eating on the street like the common dope fiend I used to be. A negro walked up to me and began telling me his life story, as if I knew him for a thousand years. He said his wife had his two cars because he didn't want to get anymore speeding tickets. He said he would help me pass out flyers about the Last Poets but he won't promise to come because he didn't want to be a hypocrite. When I asked him to come to the group meeting, he said no because he had crack in his pocket and again, didn't want to be a hypocrite.
I threw my chickenbones to the pigeons and proceeded up the block pass Glide Church, heading to Dr. Hare's office. At Ellis and Jones, I saw a Muslim dope fiend, put the car in reverse and called him over. First thing he said was he needed five dollars. I told him to get his motherfucking ass in the car and come with me. He repeated his dying need for five dollars. I told him to shut the fuck up and get in.
He submitted, wanting to know where we were going. I told him I was taking him to a meeting, but first I had to pick up Dr. Hare. I could tell he wanted to jump out the car to continue his mission for his five dollar bump of crack. We picked up Dr. Hare and proceeded to Recovery Theatre.
Dr. Hare told us the story of how he discovered black studies when he was five. The teachers put him in a room full of black children's literature and he read everything in the room. We got to the theatre and went inside. The Muslim dope fiend continued begging me for five dollars and I told him to take his ass back inside and sit next to Dr. Hare, which he did and finally calmed down and stayed for the entire meeting, telling the group it was the best thing that ever happened to him in a long time.
Al Jazeerah: Wondering and Wandering In Baghdad by Marvin X
Wondering and Wandering In Baghdad
by Marvin X
9/5/03
As the latest bombing in Iraq shatters the minds of those concerned about the war ravaged land, one wonders what exactly are the Americans doing, other than siphoning off oil and blood sucking the American tax payers to compensate Halburton and Bechtel to the tune of almost three billion dollars although little oil is flowing and Iraqis are still without electricity and clean water. Additionally, American tax payers are being charged one billion dollars per week for a fabricated war to preemptively attack someone clearly not a threat, since no weapons of mass destruction have been found.
The Americans did not secure the Jordanian embassy, the UN building, and now the Masjed in the Holy City of Najaf has suffered destruction, with over 100 people dead, including the grand Ayatollah Al Hakim.
So what are the Americans securing? Sadly, they cannot secure themselves. More have died than before the Bush devil declared the war over on May 1. What is really going on? It appears to be a bad case of greed. They want to control the military, the politics and the economics, refusing to share power with anyone, including and most importantly the Iraqi people, who've been granted an American appointed advisory council, as if the people who are the originators of human civilization have no idea how to govern themselves. Yes, the people who invented the first code of law, Hammurabi, are now devoid of the intelligence to select a provisional government.
How can the almighty Americans construct a new society without members of the old regime? It seems impossible since the old regime permeated all social institutions: army, police, intelligence, media, education, etc.
How can they call for a democracy yet declare a Shiite Islamic State will not be allowed, despite the Shiite majority population? Perhaps only America is qualified to define a democracy, although America's last presidential election resembled a Banana Republic more than a civilized democratic society. Let us not forget when Iraq's neighbor, Iran, had a democratically elected leader, he was deposed by the CIA and the Shah "elected" to replace him.
It appears the blind, greedy, ignorant Americans have fallen into an Indiana Jones snake pit. Ironically, they are the snake, the serpent who deceived the world, yet they perceive not. Clearly, they have become sitting ducks for Jihadists who practiced fighting the infidels in Afghanistan and were successful in defeating the Russians, albeit with American training and weapons. Perhaps if they had not abandoned their students in Afghanistan, they would not be facing them today in Iraq. Yes, America is facing Islamic freedom fighters who love death more than the thirsty love water. How can one defeat such people, especially when one's ideology is predicated upon pure greed, racism and archaic fundamental Christianity, more backward than the Taliban, witness the Alabama judge and his ten commandment stone? America's hypocritical illogic is seen in the fact that while separation of church and state is preached, "In God We Trust" remains on money printed by the state.
If America had been honest and truthful, she would have never attacked Iraq, now she must reap what she has sown. Poverty, disease and ignorance give rise to so-called terrorists, so until one is sincere about eradicating the causes of terrorism, the problems shall remain, deconstructing and destabilizing the very core of so-called civilized society. One man cannot eat in peace while another starves, especially when the man eating has robbed and stolen from the hungry man.
Iraq was a great tragedy under the regime of Saddam Hussein, but it remains to be seen whether it shall be an even greater tragedy under American imperialism. Peace in the Middle East appears as much a conundrum to me as it did in 1948 or shortly after, for although I was only four or five years old, I recall and can never erase from my mind, the newsreel footage at the theatre showing thousands upon thousands of Palestinians fleeing their homes across the bridge into Jordan. Over a half century later, I see the same suffering people fighting for their homeland. And now the people of Iraq are doing the same. I am not certain if I shall see the day when Palestinians achieve their state, nor is it clear when or how long the people of Iraq will exercise freedom in theirs.
And let me not close without a prayer and hope for African American self determination, reparations and liberation from wage slavery and mental slavery.
Opinions expressed in various sections are the sole responsibility of their authors and they may not represent Al-Jazeerah's.
editor@aljazeerah.info
__________________________________________________
by Marvin X
9/5/03
As the latest bombing in Iraq shatters the minds of those concerned about the war ravaged land, one wonders what exactly are the Americans doing, other than siphoning off oil and blood sucking the American tax payers to compensate Halburton and Bechtel to the tune of almost three billion dollars although little oil is flowing and Iraqis are still without electricity and clean water. Additionally, American tax payers are being charged one billion dollars per week for a fabricated war to preemptively attack someone clearly not a threat, since no weapons of mass destruction have been found.
The Americans did not secure the Jordanian embassy, the UN building, and now the Masjed in the Holy City of Najaf has suffered destruction, with over 100 people dead, including the grand Ayatollah Al Hakim.
So what are the Americans securing? Sadly, they cannot secure themselves. More have died than before the Bush devil declared the war over on May 1. What is really going on? It appears to be a bad case of greed. They want to control the military, the politics and the economics, refusing to share power with anyone, including and most importantly the Iraqi people, who've been granted an American appointed advisory council, as if the people who are the originators of human civilization have no idea how to govern themselves. Yes, the people who invented the first code of law, Hammurabi, are now devoid of the intelligence to select a provisional government.
How can the almighty Americans construct a new society without members of the old regime? It seems impossible since the old regime permeated all social institutions: army, police, intelligence, media, education, etc.
How can they call for a democracy yet declare a Shiite Islamic State will not be allowed, despite the Shiite majority population? Perhaps only America is qualified to define a democracy, although America's last presidential election resembled a Banana Republic more than a civilized democratic society. Let us not forget when Iraq's neighbor, Iran, had a democratically elected leader, he was deposed by the CIA and the Shah "elected" to replace him.
It appears the blind, greedy, ignorant Americans have fallen into an Indiana Jones snake pit. Ironically, they are the snake, the serpent who deceived the world, yet they perceive not. Clearly, they have become sitting ducks for Jihadists who practiced fighting the infidels in Afghanistan and were successful in defeating the Russians, albeit with American training and weapons. Perhaps if they had not abandoned their students in Afghanistan, they would not be facing them today in Iraq. Yes, America is facing Islamic freedom fighters who love death more than the thirsty love water. How can one defeat such people, especially when one's ideology is predicated upon pure greed, racism and archaic fundamental Christianity, more backward than the Taliban, witness the Alabama judge and his ten commandment stone? America's hypocritical illogic is seen in the fact that while separation of church and state is preached, "In God We Trust" remains on money printed by the state.
If America had been honest and truthful, she would have never attacked Iraq, now she must reap what she has sown. Poverty, disease and ignorance give rise to so-called terrorists, so until one is sincere about eradicating the causes of terrorism, the problems shall remain, deconstructing and destabilizing the very core of so-called civilized society. One man cannot eat in peace while another starves, especially when the man eating has robbed and stolen from the hungry man.
Iraq was a great tragedy under the regime of Saddam Hussein, but it remains to be seen whether it shall be an even greater tragedy under American imperialism. Peace in the Middle East appears as much a conundrum to me as it did in 1948 or shortly after, for although I was only four or five years old, I recall and can never erase from my mind, the newsreel footage at the theatre showing thousands upon thousands of Palestinians fleeing their homes across the bridge into Jordan. Over a half century later, I see the same suffering people fighting for their homeland. And now the people of Iraq are doing the same. I am not certain if I shall see the day when Palestinians achieve their state, nor is it clear when or how long the people of Iraq will exercise freedom in theirs.
And let me not close without a prayer and hope for African American self determination, reparations and liberation from wage slavery and mental slavery.
Opinions expressed in various sections are the sole responsibility of their authors and they may not represent Al-Jazeerah's.
editor@aljazeerah.info
__________________________________________________
Response to London Bridges Falling Down
RESPONSE TO MARVIN X'S LONDON BRIDGES FALLING DOWN
Date:
Sun, 10 Jul 2005 15:20:44 -0400
Jideofor, peace and blessings,
I quite understand your position. And I respect your choice and your reaction. Those who commited the acts in London may be all you say. I do not know the facts of the situation. I know there is a lot of dying going on in the world, everywhere. Oceans of tears have fallen, and there are rotting corpses a plenty, everywhere. I'd love for it all to come to an end so that we can all live in peace and comfort.
I must however disagree with you in how you characterize Marvin X. I think he is neither delusional nor a sadist. At least I cannot discern that from his writings and his public statements. What occurs in his private life is another matter, in those matters I little concern from a moral or ethical point of view.
From what I know of Marvin, he too loves humanity, and he loves the individual, regardless of color or nationality or gender or sexual persuasion. He is Love, and sacrifice everyday for the poor and the oppressed. I did not get the impression that he took cruel delight in the death of others. He is not monstrous. He was not operating on the gound level of sentimental feelings he may or may not possess.
I only know for certain what he wrote. That writing was done in the context in which there is a Great War or great wars between the operations of the Global North and the Global South. And there is a long, long history, of violence and oppression which incorporates biblical history. Israel's very existence is built up on a mythic foundation, in which is invoked scripture and scriptural prophecy. Why should such structures not be available to Marvin X as an artist and a citizen of the world.
The millenialism notion incorporated in Marvin's prophetic sermn is a mode of interpretation that did no begin with Marvin. It is rooted in our national history here in America, used by Abe Lincoln to justify the slaughter of our Civil War, and it has been used by George Bush to justify his War on Iraq.
The issues of divine justice and divine retirbutions is as much an important aspect of Christian theology as it is found in Islam. Did he have a right to say what he wanted to say in the manner in which he said it, you damn right he does. And the only reason that I would not post it on ChickenBones: A Journal would be out of fear.
I will not silence Marvin X.
As ever and always, Rudy
----Original Message Follows----From: "Editor"To: "rudolph lewis" Subject: Re: London Bridges Falling Down Date: Sun, 10 Jul 2005 19:37:43 +0100
I find Marvin X's article, prophetic or not, extremely in bad taste. To justify the recent London mayhem by a bunch of delusional psychopaths as retributive justice sits uncomfortably with my notion of justice - from humanist, religious, political and intellectual perspectives. It is akin to some non-blacks somewhere celebrating as a comeuppance the setting the torching and killing of all congregations in a black church because some black men raped some non-black women somewhere.Many of the people who lost their lives are ordinary individuals like you and I, who daily struggle to make ends meet. Some, I am sure, may have taken part in demonstrations against some of the decisions of the politicians, which the killers claim motivated their sick actions. There are single mothers who left their children at schools, hoping to be back before the end of the school that day to pick them up. With mum no more, the fate of such children could only be imagined. And yet, someone out there, in a delusional intellectual grand-standing, dared call it retribution.Even if the actions of the politicians had called for this, there is time for everything under the heaven. There is time for analysis of what happened and why, and time to show compassion. It is only a sadist who will want to engage in an ill-digested analysis at a time when what is called for is compassion.I am surprised that you chose to defend that ill-advised piece.
Jideofor ----- Original Message ----- From: rudolph lewis To: rudolphlewis@hotmail.com Sent: Sunday, July 10, 2005 6:51 PM
Subject: London Bridges Falling Down
My dear Friends, I come to you, today, with another piece of artful composition. This sermon, performed in the prophetic mode, has its special appeal to me, not because of the particular event it refers. I have not kept up with them. The last four years has just been too rich for my comfort. As some of you know, I'm ever in the religious mode, my grandparents who raised me had the Baible at the oppressive center of my universe. Virginia-bred, living in Nathaniel Turner Country, which has a proclivity toward preaching and prophecy. As you know I daily defend Nathaniel Turner, preacher and prophet of Southampton, who redefined for us black manhood, and black masculinity. For me, Marvin X plays that role in comtemporary times. He too is preacher and prophet. In this sermon, he is Jeremiah, I imagine, warning governments of Divine Justice, and retribution. Of course, preachers and prophets have always frightened me since I was a boy, by their talk of hellfire & brimstone, wars and rumors of wars. I realize too keenly, the discomfort that can ensue when one speaks for God. Here's Marvin X's London Bridges Falling Down -- Rudy
Date:
Sun, 10 Jul 2005 15:20:44 -0400
Jideofor, peace and blessings,
I quite understand your position. And I respect your choice and your reaction. Those who commited the acts in London may be all you say. I do not know the facts of the situation. I know there is a lot of dying going on in the world, everywhere. Oceans of tears have fallen, and there are rotting corpses a plenty, everywhere. I'd love for it all to come to an end so that we can all live in peace and comfort.
I must however disagree with you in how you characterize Marvin X. I think he is neither delusional nor a sadist. At least I cannot discern that from his writings and his public statements. What occurs in his private life is another matter, in those matters I little concern from a moral or ethical point of view.
From what I know of Marvin, he too loves humanity, and he loves the individual, regardless of color or nationality or gender or sexual persuasion. He is Love, and sacrifice everyday for the poor and the oppressed. I did not get the impression that he took cruel delight in the death of others. He is not monstrous. He was not operating on the gound level of sentimental feelings he may or may not possess.
I only know for certain what he wrote. That writing was done in the context in which there is a Great War or great wars between the operations of the Global North and the Global South. And there is a long, long history, of violence and oppression which incorporates biblical history. Israel's very existence is built up on a mythic foundation, in which is invoked scripture and scriptural prophecy. Why should such structures not be available to Marvin X as an artist and a citizen of the world.
The millenialism notion incorporated in Marvin's prophetic sermn is a mode of interpretation that did no begin with Marvin. It is rooted in our national history here in America, used by Abe Lincoln to justify the slaughter of our Civil War, and it has been used by George Bush to justify his War on Iraq.
The issues of divine justice and divine retirbutions is as much an important aspect of Christian theology as it is found in Islam. Did he have a right to say what he wanted to say in the manner in which he said it, you damn right he does. And the only reason that I would not post it on ChickenBones: A Journal would be out of fear.
I will not silence Marvin X.
As ever and always, Rudy
----Original Message Follows----From: "Editor"
I find Marvin X's article, prophetic or not, extremely in bad taste. To justify the recent London mayhem by a bunch of delusional psychopaths as retributive justice sits uncomfortably with my notion of justice - from humanist, religious, political and intellectual perspectives. It is akin to some non-blacks somewhere celebrating as a comeuppance the setting the torching and killing of all congregations in a black church because some black men raped some non-black women somewhere.Many of the people who lost their lives are ordinary individuals like you and I, who daily struggle to make ends meet. Some, I am sure, may have taken part in demonstrations against some of the decisions of the politicians, which the killers claim motivated their sick actions. There are single mothers who left their children at schools, hoping to be back before the end of the school that day to pick them up. With mum no more, the fate of such children could only be imagined. And yet, someone out there, in a delusional intellectual grand-standing, dared call it retribution.Even if the actions of the politicians had called for this, there is time for everything under the heaven. There is time for analysis of what happened and why, and time to show compassion. It is only a sadist who will want to engage in an ill-digested analysis at a time when what is called for is compassion.I am surprised that you chose to defend that ill-advised piece.
Jideofor ----- Original Message ----- From: rudolph lewis To: rudolphlewis@hotmail.com Sent: Sunday, July 10, 2005 6:51 PM
Subject: London Bridges Falling Down
My dear Friends, I come to you, today, with another piece of artful composition. This sermon, performed in the prophetic mode, has its special appeal to me, not because of the particular event it refers. I have not kept up with them. The last four years has just been too rich for my comfort. As some of you know, I'm ever in the religious mode, my grandparents who raised me had the Baible at the oppressive center of my universe. Virginia-bred, living in Nathaniel Turner Country, which has a proclivity toward preaching and prophecy. As you know I daily defend Nathaniel Turner, preacher and prophet of Southampton, who redefined for us black manhood, and black masculinity. For me, Marvin X plays that role in comtemporary times. He too is preacher and prophet. In this sermon, he is Jeremiah, I imagine, warning governments of Divine Justice, and retribution. Of course, preachers and prophets have always frightened me since I was a boy, by their talk of hellfire & brimstone, wars and rumors of wars. I realize too keenly, the discomfort that can ensue when one speaks for God. Here's Marvin X's London Bridges Falling Down -- Rudy
London Bridges Falling Down
London Bridges Falling Down
Marvin X
Not only has the sun set on the British empire but the sons of her colonial slaves are out to avenge their impoverished fathers and mothers. Yes, call them devils for their evil desires and actions to seek retribution for centuries of rape, mass murder, mutilation and simple genocide.
During the four centuries of European slavery, how many innocent men, women and children were crucified in the name of Jesus and capitalism? When they toiled in the sun of Africa, Asia and the Americas, were they not simple human beings whose only desire was to care for their families and loved ones--how often did they even bother to revolt against their enslavement for life?
But today the world appears utterly horrified that the descendants of colonialism have decided to seek vengeance in the name of their God and peoples, no matter what the moderates, the uncle toms and uncle abdullahs, think of their barbaric actions. Were not the Europeans barbaric in the Congo, South Africa, in Arabia and India, in the the Americas with their black codes and slave catchers, lynchings, raping of men, women and children?
Did the Europeans and their colonial collaborators ever think the day would come for justice to raise her hand and strike death blows into the hearts of the masters as they went about their daily round, eating, drinking, sporting, playing, working, praying?
The death angels don't care about any of these goings on. Throughout the centuries of your oppression in Africa, Arabia, India and the Americas, did you ever give the subject peoples a day of respite, a moment to wipe the sweat off their brow? You gave them nothing but more slavery, suffering and death. And as you have done, so shall it be done unto you.
Keep a stiff upper lip because you shall need it as your cities crumble for the death angels march with no mercy, a lesson they learned from you. The only difference is that you claim to value life but the death angels care nothing for life and there are no innocents in their world.
The moderates are mostly your puppets, your colonial administrators who have benefited from the enslavement of their people. What right to life do they deserve. Yes, those who worship the beast shall be destroyed with the beast. Your moderation is submission to continued enslavement and colonialism--even your feigned religiosity is reactionary poppycock. You are one billion Muslims, yet you cannot liberate Palestine. To hell with your prayers and your pilgrimage to Mecca. When you march to Jerusalem one billion strong, that is the day Islam shall be redeemed from the devil, yes, from you fake imams who preach mysticism while your people wallow in poverty, disease and ignorance.
You are glad to send your sons to Iraq as suicide bombers because it is better they fight the Crusaders than fight you and your reactionary regimes in Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Jordan, Syria, Sudan, and places where you have delivered your oil fields to the global bandits in exchange for liquor and European women.
Marvin X
Not only has the sun set on the British empire but the sons of her colonial slaves are out to avenge their impoverished fathers and mothers. Yes, call them devils for their evil desires and actions to seek retribution for centuries of rape, mass murder, mutilation and simple genocide.
During the four centuries of European slavery, how many innocent men, women and children were crucified in the name of Jesus and capitalism? When they toiled in the sun of Africa, Asia and the Americas, were they not simple human beings whose only desire was to care for their families and loved ones--how often did they even bother to revolt against their enslavement for life?
But today the world appears utterly horrified that the descendants of colonialism have decided to seek vengeance in the name of their God and peoples, no matter what the moderates, the uncle toms and uncle abdullahs, think of their barbaric actions. Were not the Europeans barbaric in the Congo, South Africa, in Arabia and India, in the the Americas with their black codes and slave catchers, lynchings, raping of men, women and children?
Did the Europeans and their colonial collaborators ever think the day would come for justice to raise her hand and strike death blows into the hearts of the masters as they went about their daily round, eating, drinking, sporting, playing, working, praying?
The death angels don't care about any of these goings on. Throughout the centuries of your oppression in Africa, Arabia, India and the Americas, did you ever give the subject peoples a day of respite, a moment to wipe the sweat off their brow? You gave them nothing but more slavery, suffering and death. And as you have done, so shall it be done unto you.
Keep a stiff upper lip because you shall need it as your cities crumble for the death angels march with no mercy, a lesson they learned from you. The only difference is that you claim to value life but the death angels care nothing for life and there are no innocents in their world.
The moderates are mostly your puppets, your colonial administrators who have benefited from the enslavement of their people. What right to life do they deserve. Yes, those who worship the beast shall be destroyed with the beast. Your moderation is submission to continued enslavement and colonialism--even your feigned religiosity is reactionary poppycock. You are one billion Muslims, yet you cannot liberate Palestine. To hell with your prayers and your pilgrimage to Mecca. When you march to Jerusalem one billion strong, that is the day Islam shall be redeemed from the devil, yes, from you fake imams who preach mysticism while your people wallow in poverty, disease and ignorance.
You are glad to send your sons to Iraq as suicide bombers because it is better they fight the Crusaders than fight you and your reactionary regimes in Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Jordan, Syria, Sudan, and places where you have delivered your oil fields to the global bandits in exchange for liquor and European women.
Review: Wish I Could Tell You The Truth, essays by Marvin X
NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH, AS TOLD BY MARVIN X.
A review of the book, Wish I Could Tell you the Truth. Marvin X (El Muhajir), Cherokee, CA: Black Bird Press, 2005, 223 pp.
By Nathan Hare
What ever happened to the Black Movement? Where did our” black power” go? Where did we lose our vision? How did we lose out way after the Sixties – declining and degenerating from the days when black was beautiful before we gave up our valiant black fight, before we relinquished the revolutionary initiative to the white woman, turned away from combat with our own oppression to focus on real and imagined glories in the regal but bygone realms of Antiquity, searching out the faraway and the long ago, preoccupied and mesmerized by the unfathomed wonders of the Pyramids, safe and serene in our plush and sexy high-tech Africanized “pads” four blocks removed from the projects; two corporate paychecks and ten credit cards away from bankruptcy and the welfare lines, wrapped in speculation and pontification on the magical elements of melanin?
You can find the many answers to such questions as these lurking menacingly, as we speak, within the pages of a bomb of a book that recently slipped largely unnoticed into the middle of what the late sociologist, E. Franklin Frazier, liked to call “Negro society,” before black intellectuals and enlightened “people of color” wrapped themselves in elusive layers of ideological buzzwords such as ”Afrocentricity,” “Africana” and “Multiculturalism.”
The name of the book is Wish I Could Tell You the Truth, by Marvin X, deceptively titled if you ask me, because Marvin X has been going around telling the truth on everybody, including himself, for something like going on forty years. Marvin X will tell the truth on you and your momma, will put all of your business in the street -- and his. I mean the brother is an open book, the kind of dude who, if you started him to lying, would tell everything he knew.
So obviously on some level, the brother is not afraid to tell the truth, and I don’t really think he’s saying he couldn’t if he wanted to.
I also believe Bro. Marvin is the kind of guy you could probably call a lie (or argue that he could tell you the truth when he’s saying he can’t) and walk away unscathed; but I won’t lie to you, after reading his book clean through, I still wasn’t exactly prepared to call a brother a lie who is the ace boon coon of the likes of Amira Baraka and Sonia Sanchez and even introduced the pistol-packing cofounders of the Black Panther Party, Huey P. Newton and his equally fearless firebrand and collaborator, Eldridge Cleaver.
But I still couldn’t figure out why a brother would write a book making like he wished he could tell the truth if he wasn’t lying (God knows the average black intellectual has been going around here lying for the past forty years, all up and down the streets, and in and out of the penitentiary and the professorial tenure track; and it doesn’t take Neitsche (who opined that “lying is a part of the human experience”), or a Native American or a feminazi to catch the white man in a lie; but Marvin X is a black man, with nothing in sight to lie for.
Maybe Marvin is saying he wants to spend a few tall tales. I once suggested to him, based on one of his earlier books, Somethin’ Proper: The Autobiography of a North American Poet, that he should write a novel and damn well could. But truth, as Marvin apparently knows, is often stranger than fiction – and a good deal harder to come by.
I know that somewhere in the ranks of the keepers of “Negrocracy” there are “tenured Negro intellectuals” – as Marvin calls them -- writing polkadot rainbow books out-fabricating Kingfish who would argue in their own defense that Marvin X’s very surname casts an element of mystery, and some might go so far as to say that the brother is a “relic of the Sixties” – as his name implies – but that would lead them to a grave misunderstanding.
No one can deny, who knows Marvin’s work, that he is a brother who is qualified to tell the truth, who has been around a long time and really paid some dues, as B.B. King likes to sing it – or, as my late friend and novelist John O. Killens would say, Bro. Marvin is a “long distance runner.”
I would have to confess, on the other hand, that he has had enough time and written enough books and poetry to pack in a fair amount of lies as well as a lot of truth. And I know you are asking what is the truth – which you righteously may wish to know – as told by Marvin X.
I’m afraid you’re going to have to read the book, because what I see as truth may well be lies to you. I can tell you what I knew even before I read the book – and the book confirms it -- Marvin’s literary work, if not his life, is considered by many to be a veritable monument to truth.
From the very first chapter, in any case, of Wish I Could Tell You the Truth (called “A Tale of an Angry Old Man”), it is clear that Marvin wishes to inform and hip the young, but Marvin also wishes to be understood by the young. And the young, like the old, would do well to read him and study him. If you don’t already know him by now you will learn that he is qualified, if not able, to tell the truth. You will learn, if you didn’t already know it, that Marvin’s fundamental mission in life is to jack people up and tell you the truth (to “comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable,” according to my wife, Dr. Julia Hare , who is also well acquainted with Marvin)..
Don’t care if you’re white, black, polka dot, or chartreuse; Afrocentric, Eurocentric, egocentric or just eccentric, send Marvin X an email if you dare, saying any secret thing, and the first thing you know he’ll have you all over the Internet.
But in truth the business of Marvin X, a playwright and a poet, is books – fulltime. I’ll let you judge for yourself if this book proves he’s getting better at his craft, but I can tell you at least a part of the truth, if not the whole truth: Marvin X loves books, reads books, writes books, sells books up and down the streets of San Francisco, Philadelphia, Atlanta, LA, Detroit, Chicago, or Bedford Stuyvessant; in and out of white bookstores, the rainbow section of black bookstores, at Negro caucssuses and “professional” conferences, book-signings of the black literati (what Zora Neale Hurston called ‘the niggerati), church confabs or coconut soirees. This brother sells books online, offline, in front of the church, in front of the bar, in front of the theater (he’s the founder of The Recovery Theatre, where he also sells his books), in front of the White House, your house, the Black House (which he founded with Eldridge Cleaver in the mid-1960s), or anywhere he finds a brother or a sister or a black intellectual who has never read a book in the past ten years, let alone bought one in their pompous lives, other than some textbook they couldn’t borrow from somebody else in their in-service classes.
Tell them, yes, Marvin is a relic, a remnant of another epoch, a better blacker time, an age when black intellectuals looked to the future and were not afraid to step out of line with the white man and whey-eyed concessions to white supremacy, before the “Negro cognoscente” retreated into escapism and a “world of make believe” and filled their lives with ceremony and myths, before they stood so deep in the residue of black family and social decay, crowing about “the strengths of the black family,” “the positives,” denouncing the “pathology” that the white man’s chattel slavery and oppression had made, while the black family crumbled more in a couple of decades than a century or more since slavery.
Tell them of the time we knew so briefly and brilliantly in the Sixties, before black intellectuals (including their warriors and their mathematicians) grew preoccupied with reading, talking and writing history instead of making history, before they fixated on recasting the bygone past instead of making the future, before they fell into their postmodern waltz with the status quo, where the white woman has a hold to the white man’s shirttail, the black woman has a hold to the white woman’s skirt tail, and the black man has a hold to the black woman’s skirt tail, with the white man leading them all around in a Conga dance.
Tell them the truth, as told by Marvin X,
Tell them the truth that is hidden in the chapters of Wish I Could Tell You the Truth, chapters such as: “In Search of my Soul Sister,” “Beyond the Ignorance Zone,” “Farrakhan’s Final Call,” “Live in Philly at Warm Daddies,” ”Life In Social Movements,” “What Is Life and Why Are We Living,” “Black Woman’s Tit Knocks Out America” (remember Jackie Jackson in the Superdome) “Gay Marriage and Black Liberation,” “Black Bourgeoisie Defend Their Own,” “ VIP Nigguhs and Rape,” “Meaning of Black Reconstruction,” and so many more.
Then them and they will understand how, once I had finished reading Wish I Could Tell You the Truth, I slammed it down then picked it up again and read it over a second time, the way you used to sit back through a grownup movie when you were young and had somebody to hold real tight or squeeze you in the dark.
Yes, I could go ahead and tell you the truth as Marvin tells it, but that would be like letting the cat out of the bag, and robbing you of the pleasure of panning for your own gold in a stormy sea of truth and maybe a sprinkling of multicolored lies, but I can’t. So if you don’t read the book you’ll never know.
And yet, I would never lie to you; this is one time I wish I could tell you the truth.
A review of the book, Wish I Could Tell you the Truth. Marvin X (El Muhajir), Cherokee, CA: Black Bird Press, 2005, 223 pp.
By Nathan Hare
What ever happened to the Black Movement? Where did our” black power” go? Where did we lose our vision? How did we lose out way after the Sixties – declining and degenerating from the days when black was beautiful before we gave up our valiant black fight, before we relinquished the revolutionary initiative to the white woman, turned away from combat with our own oppression to focus on real and imagined glories in the regal but bygone realms of Antiquity, searching out the faraway and the long ago, preoccupied and mesmerized by the unfathomed wonders of the Pyramids, safe and serene in our plush and sexy high-tech Africanized “pads” four blocks removed from the projects; two corporate paychecks and ten credit cards away from bankruptcy and the welfare lines, wrapped in speculation and pontification on the magical elements of melanin?
You can find the many answers to such questions as these lurking menacingly, as we speak, within the pages of a bomb of a book that recently slipped largely unnoticed into the middle of what the late sociologist, E. Franklin Frazier, liked to call “Negro society,” before black intellectuals and enlightened “people of color” wrapped themselves in elusive layers of ideological buzzwords such as ”Afrocentricity,” “Africana” and “Multiculturalism.”
The name of the book is Wish I Could Tell You the Truth, by Marvin X, deceptively titled if you ask me, because Marvin X has been going around telling the truth on everybody, including himself, for something like going on forty years. Marvin X will tell the truth on you and your momma, will put all of your business in the street -- and his. I mean the brother is an open book, the kind of dude who, if you started him to lying, would tell everything he knew.
So obviously on some level, the brother is not afraid to tell the truth, and I don’t really think he’s saying he couldn’t if he wanted to.
I also believe Bro. Marvin is the kind of guy you could probably call a lie (or argue that he could tell you the truth when he’s saying he can’t) and walk away unscathed; but I won’t lie to you, after reading his book clean through, I still wasn’t exactly prepared to call a brother a lie who is the ace boon coon of the likes of Amira Baraka and Sonia Sanchez and even introduced the pistol-packing cofounders of the Black Panther Party, Huey P. Newton and his equally fearless firebrand and collaborator, Eldridge Cleaver.
But I still couldn’t figure out why a brother would write a book making like he wished he could tell the truth if he wasn’t lying (God knows the average black intellectual has been going around here lying for the past forty years, all up and down the streets, and in and out of the penitentiary and the professorial tenure track; and it doesn’t take Neitsche (who opined that “lying is a part of the human experience”), or a Native American or a feminazi to catch the white man in a lie; but Marvin X is a black man, with nothing in sight to lie for.
Maybe Marvin is saying he wants to spend a few tall tales. I once suggested to him, based on one of his earlier books, Somethin’ Proper: The Autobiography of a North American Poet, that he should write a novel and damn well could. But truth, as Marvin apparently knows, is often stranger than fiction – and a good deal harder to come by.
I know that somewhere in the ranks of the keepers of “Negrocracy” there are “tenured Negro intellectuals” – as Marvin calls them -- writing polkadot rainbow books out-fabricating Kingfish who would argue in their own defense that Marvin X’s very surname casts an element of mystery, and some might go so far as to say that the brother is a “relic of the Sixties” – as his name implies – but that would lead them to a grave misunderstanding.
No one can deny, who knows Marvin’s work, that he is a brother who is qualified to tell the truth, who has been around a long time and really paid some dues, as B.B. King likes to sing it – or, as my late friend and novelist John O. Killens would say, Bro. Marvin is a “long distance runner.”
I would have to confess, on the other hand, that he has had enough time and written enough books and poetry to pack in a fair amount of lies as well as a lot of truth. And I know you are asking what is the truth – which you righteously may wish to know – as told by Marvin X.
I’m afraid you’re going to have to read the book, because what I see as truth may well be lies to you. I can tell you what I knew even before I read the book – and the book confirms it -- Marvin’s literary work, if not his life, is considered by many to be a veritable monument to truth.
From the very first chapter, in any case, of Wish I Could Tell You the Truth (called “A Tale of an Angry Old Man”), it is clear that Marvin wishes to inform and hip the young, but Marvin also wishes to be understood by the young. And the young, like the old, would do well to read him and study him. If you don’t already know him by now you will learn that he is qualified, if not able, to tell the truth. You will learn, if you didn’t already know it, that Marvin’s fundamental mission in life is to jack people up and tell you the truth (to “comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable,” according to my wife, Dr. Julia Hare , who is also well acquainted with Marvin)..
Don’t care if you’re white, black, polka dot, or chartreuse; Afrocentric, Eurocentric, egocentric or just eccentric, send Marvin X an email if you dare, saying any secret thing, and the first thing you know he’ll have you all over the Internet.
But in truth the business of Marvin X, a playwright and a poet, is books – fulltime. I’ll let you judge for yourself if this book proves he’s getting better at his craft, but I can tell you at least a part of the truth, if not the whole truth: Marvin X loves books, reads books, writes books, sells books up and down the streets of San Francisco, Philadelphia, Atlanta, LA, Detroit, Chicago, or Bedford Stuyvessant; in and out of white bookstores, the rainbow section of black bookstores, at Negro caucssuses and “professional” conferences, book-signings of the black literati (what Zora Neale Hurston called ‘the niggerati), church confabs or coconut soirees. This brother sells books online, offline, in front of the church, in front of the bar, in front of the theater (he’s the founder of The Recovery Theatre, where he also sells his books), in front of the White House, your house, the Black House (which he founded with Eldridge Cleaver in the mid-1960s), or anywhere he finds a brother or a sister or a black intellectual who has never read a book in the past ten years, let alone bought one in their pompous lives, other than some textbook they couldn’t borrow from somebody else in their in-service classes.
Tell them, yes, Marvin is a relic, a remnant of another epoch, a better blacker time, an age when black intellectuals looked to the future and were not afraid to step out of line with the white man and whey-eyed concessions to white supremacy, before the “Negro cognoscente” retreated into escapism and a “world of make believe” and filled their lives with ceremony and myths, before they stood so deep in the residue of black family and social decay, crowing about “the strengths of the black family,” “the positives,” denouncing the “pathology” that the white man’s chattel slavery and oppression had made, while the black family crumbled more in a couple of decades than a century or more since slavery.
Tell them of the time we knew so briefly and brilliantly in the Sixties, before black intellectuals (including their warriors and their mathematicians) grew preoccupied with reading, talking and writing history instead of making history, before they fixated on recasting the bygone past instead of making the future, before they fell into their postmodern waltz with the status quo, where the white woman has a hold to the white man’s shirttail, the black woman has a hold to the white woman’s skirt tail, and the black man has a hold to the black woman’s skirt tail, with the white man leading them all around in a Conga dance.
Tell them the truth, as told by Marvin X,
Tell them the truth that is hidden in the chapters of Wish I Could Tell You the Truth, chapters such as: “In Search of my Soul Sister,” “Beyond the Ignorance Zone,” “Farrakhan’s Final Call,” “Live in Philly at Warm Daddies,” ”Life In Social Movements,” “What Is Life and Why Are We Living,” “Black Woman’s Tit Knocks Out America” (remember Jackie Jackson in the Superdome) “Gay Marriage and Black Liberation,” “Black Bourgeoisie Defend Their Own,” “ VIP Nigguhs and Rape,” “Meaning of Black Reconstruction,” and so many more.
Then them and they will understand how, once I had finished reading Wish I Could Tell You the Truth, I slammed it down then picked it up again and read it over a second time, the way you used to sit back through a grownup movie when you were young and had somebody to hold real tight or squeeze you in the dark.
Yes, I could go ahead and tell you the truth as Marvin tells it, but that would be like letting the cat out of the bag, and robbing you of the pleasure of panning for your own gold in a stormy sea of truth and maybe a sprinkling of multicolored lies, but I can’t. So if you don’t read the book you’ll never know.
And yet, I would never lie to you; this is one time I wish I could tell you the truth.
Review: Beyond Religion, toward Religion by Marvin X
Beyond Religion toward Spirituality, Essays on Consciousness.
Marvin X/El Muhajir
Black Bird Press, Paradise Ca, 2007, 281 pages, $19.95
Review by Ayodele Nzinga
In his introduction to, Beyond Religion Toward Spirituality, the X man says: “How you begin is how you will end.” He goes on to describe a new relationship with himself and joy. Full circle, the boy from Fresno is a man of the world, master of the small story, in possession of his joy and a child like wisdom, simple, honest, and fresh.
The world according to Marvin X is in beautiful place to visit but it is also in serious need of a more spiritually imbued story of itself.
El Muhajir has been teaching us through the medium of poetry, drama, lecture, and essay for four decades; this offering signals his attention to his continuing personal evolution. One of his greatest strengths as a storyteller is he is never afraid to share what he has learned. In the pages of Beyond Religion Toward Spirituality Marvin celebrates the spiritual nature of man and the world in a series of moving non-fiction essays.
He speaks in an authoritative voice in what he calls the fourth quarter of a remarkable run. X is clear, concise, and straight razor sharp. His lyrical use of North American African vernacular remains as clear and as musical as his poetry and his undiminished power of observation touches all the nooks and crannies of his life and our own.
As usual Marvin’s view is a wide one that takes in his subject from a variety of vantage points. This volume is simple, yet thorough in its scope. Flowing from a seemingly endless well, Marvin’s eye moves like water from the intricacies of love, to the nurturing of youth, into the spiritual aspects of music, as his pen makes the leap from the personal to the universal.
In Beyond Religion Toward Spirituality Marvin has compiled an “All you ever need to know” compendium for anyone with a mind, heart and soul living on earth. These are the musings of a well-seasoned life traveler with stories that instruct and inspire. In the tradition of “I wish I could tell you the Truth”, essays, 2005, and “Something Proper,” autobiography, 1998, Marvin blesses us with the gift of his scholarship embodied in our lived reality. Here philosophy is given flesh we understand, for here is a philosopher of and from us, bold enough to tell us the truth, continually serving us something proper, and ready to move us beyond religion to an enlivened spirituality.
“Let it be said that we tried to expand our consciousness, to get high with the Most High (Ali). And if we only touched the hem of His garment, it is better than not having touched Him at all.” Marvin X/ El Muhajir, Beyond Religion Toward Spirituality, Essays on Consciousness.
This collection of “small stories” is another well-written chapter in the ongoing grand narrative of Marvin X, available from Black Bird Press, POB 1317, Paradise CA 95967 , $19.95.
Poet/actress Ayodele Nzinga is doing her PhD thesis on Marvin X and the Black Arts Movement. His archives were recently acquired by the University of California , Bancroft Library
Marvin X/El Muhajir
Black Bird Press, Paradise Ca, 2007, 281 pages, $19.95
Review by Ayodele Nzinga
In his introduction to, Beyond Religion Toward Spirituality, the X man says: “How you begin is how you will end.” He goes on to describe a new relationship with himself and joy. Full circle, the boy from Fresno is a man of the world, master of the small story, in possession of his joy and a child like wisdom, simple, honest, and fresh.
The world according to Marvin X is in beautiful place to visit but it is also in serious need of a more spiritually imbued story of itself.
El Muhajir has been teaching us through the medium of poetry, drama, lecture, and essay for four decades; this offering signals his attention to his continuing personal evolution. One of his greatest strengths as a storyteller is he is never afraid to share what he has learned. In the pages of Beyond Religion Toward Spirituality Marvin celebrates the spiritual nature of man and the world in a series of moving non-fiction essays.
He speaks in an authoritative voice in what he calls the fourth quarter of a remarkable run. X is clear, concise, and straight razor sharp. His lyrical use of North American African vernacular remains as clear and as musical as his poetry and his undiminished power of observation touches all the nooks and crannies of his life and our own.
As usual Marvin’s view is a wide one that takes in his subject from a variety of vantage points. This volume is simple, yet thorough in its scope. Flowing from a seemingly endless well, Marvin’s eye moves like water from the intricacies of love, to the nurturing of youth, into the spiritual aspects of music, as his pen makes the leap from the personal to the universal.
In Beyond Religion Toward Spirituality Marvin has compiled an “All you ever need to know” compendium for anyone with a mind, heart and soul living on earth. These are the musings of a well-seasoned life traveler with stories that instruct and inspire. In the tradition of “I wish I could tell you the Truth”, essays, 2005, and “Something Proper,” autobiography, 1998, Marvin blesses us with the gift of his scholarship embodied in our lived reality. Here philosophy is given flesh we understand, for here is a philosopher of and from us, bold enough to tell us the truth, continually serving us something proper, and ready to move us beyond religion to an enlivened spirituality.
“Let it be said that we tried to expand our consciousness, to get high with the Most High (Ali). And if we only touched the hem of His garment, it is better than not having touched Him at all.” Marvin X/ El Muhajir, Beyond Religion Toward Spirituality, Essays on Consciousness.
This collection of “small stories” is another well-written chapter in the ongoing grand narrative of Marvin X, available from Black Bird Press, POB 1317, Paradise CA 95967 , $19.95.
Poet/actress Ayodele Nzinga is doing her PhD thesis on Marvin X and the Black Arts Movement. His archives were recently acquired by the University of California , Bancroft Library
Marvin X's 2007 Book Tour Report
PHILADELPHIA
Marvin X's East coast book tour got off on anunfortunate note when Poet Sonia Sanchez had topostpone hosting her book party for Marvin because shesuffered a fall and was hospitalized a few days beforethe scheduled event. So the tour began with a reading(accompanied by Elliot Bey on piano) at the Universityof Penn's WEB DUBOIS center, sponsored by AfricanAmerican Studies, African American Resource Center andthe Women's Center. The event was a poetry reading bylocal spoken word artists, especially those connectedwith Maurice Henderson's National Black Poetry Tour. Marvin was asked to join the tour, and he agreed,especially after hearing the poets. "The poets whoread today have renewed my faith in the power ofpoetry to free our people. In the beginning was theword—if these poets and others like them can get theirmessage to the people, it will cause a paradigm shiftin the hood—things will never be the same, just as theBlack Arts Movement helped change consciousness in the60s. Conscious spoken word and poetry can refocus ourpeople on liberation, personal and political, asopposed to the bitch, ho, and motherfucker message ofmuch rap." Later than evening at Robbins Book Store, Marvin X wasgiven a proper introduction by poet Lamont Steptoe,winner of the Pew award. He quoted from an interviewby Lee Hubbard, Marvin X Unplugged, see AALBC orChickenBones He also quoted from the preface toMarvin's collection of essays, In the Crazy HouseCalled America, which called for a national generalstrike. The poet dialogued with hip hop journalist Justin SoulOne Bedford, a Philly native, who recently interviewedSpike Lee. But much of Marvin's comments were directedto the two young males traveling with him, aged 16 and25. "All that I am doing now is to save these youngmen and others like them. We must surround them withlove to save their lives. We have formed a dream teamto save them, composed of their mother, uncles andaunt." He suggested other parents, relatives, andcommunity members do the same with their young males. As per young females, Nisa Ra, Marvin's friend, formerwife and mother of his daughter, Muhammida, isconsulting with him to write a book on how she raisedtheir daughter, a Howard University graduate,entrepreneur and filmmaker, Hip Hop: The New WorldOrder, go to www.suninleo.com. Muhammida is filmingher father's tour for a documentary on the Black ArtsMovement and Hip Hop. On Thursday, she will dialogue with her father atthe Medgar Evers College film series, 7pm. It ispossible there will be a screening of Marvin's filmTHE KINGS AND QUEENS OF BLACK CONSCIOUSNESS, a videodocumentary he produced from the 2001 concert at SanFrancisco State University, featuring Amina and AmiriBaraka, Dr. Cornel West, Julia and Nathan Hare, Kalamuya Salaam, Rev. Cecil Williams of Glide Church,Ishmael Reed, Askia Toure, Marvin X, and many others. Marvin was totally surprised to learn one audience member was his comrade from the 60s liberationstruggle, Muhammad Ahmad (Max Stanford, Jr.), leaderof Revolutionary Action Movement (RAM ). Marvin was totally humbled when Muhammad introduced himself andexchanged his recently published WE WILL RETURN IN THEWHIRLWIND, a history of Black Radical Organizations.* * * * *
Marvin X East Coast Tour
Ishmael Reed says "Forget about spending hundreds ofdollars for motivational and prosperity seminars. Justgo stand next to Marvin X and watch him sell hisbooks."
Little may be known in the mainstream of poet/writer Marvin X but within circles of radical and independentartists and thinkers, he remains an icon! "Marvin X is one of the founders and innovators of the Black Arts Movement." --Amiri Baraka
This month, the Bay area legend heads east for a booksigning/reading tour of his latest release, Beyond Religion-Toward Spirituality: Essays on Consciousness.Longtime friends/associates/ comradessuch as Sonia Sanchez, Amiri Baraka, and Ed Bullins host Marvin X onthe road. He will also bridge the gap with dialoguefrom the new generation of young writers, journalistsand activists.
Philadelphia
Friday, April 6 : 7pmHosted by Sonia SanchezPrivate. Contact rsvp@suninleo. com for details
Saturday, April 7
WEB DuBois Center--University ofPenn,
3pmBridging the Gap- dialogue with writer Justin SoulOne Bedford Introduction by poet Lamont B. SteptoeRobin's Bookstore 108 S. 13th Street 7pmNewark,
New Jersey
Sunday, April 8 : 6pmHosted by Amiri & Amina Baraka
808 S. 10th Street, Newark
Brooklyn
Wednesday, April 11 : 7pm
Bridging the Gap- dialogue with Cuban Hip Hopactivist, Ariel FernandezHosted by Sun in Leo @ House of Van Buren 145 Van Buren Street, Bed-Stuy
April 12, 7pmMedgar Evers CollegeFilm Series
Marvin X dialogue with daughter,filmmaker Muhammida El Muhammida
Boston
Sunday, April 15 : 6pmHosted by Ed Bullins and Askia ToureAfrican American Gallery76 Atherton, Jamaica Plains, MAHartford,
Connecticut
April 20 Hosted by novelist Dana Rondel265 Oxford Street, Hartford
Brooklyn
April 27 : 6:30pmSista's Place -Nostrand & Jefferson
Washington DC
April 28Hosted by Baba LumumbaUmoja Gallery -2015 Bunker Hill Rd, NE
For more information, please contact events@suninleo.com 718-574-6331 www.marvinxwrites.blogspot
PHILADELPHIA
Marvin X's East coast book tour got off on anunfortunate note when Poet Sonia Sanchez had topostpone hosting her book party for Marvin because shesuffered a fall and was hospitalized a few days beforethe scheduled event. So the tour began with a reading(accompanied by Elliot Bey on piano) at the Universityof Penn's WEB DUBOIS center, sponsored by AfricanAmerican Studies, African American Resource Center andthe Women's Center. The event was a poetry reading bylocal spoken word artists, especially those connectedwith Maurice Henderson's National Black Poetry Tour. Marvin was asked to join the tour, and he agreed,especially after hearing the poets. "The poets whoread today have renewed my faith in the power ofpoetry to free our people. In the beginning was theword—if these poets and others like them can get theirmessage to the people, it will cause a paradigm shiftin the hood—things will never be the same, just as theBlack Arts Movement helped change consciousness in the60s. Conscious spoken word and poetry can refocus ourpeople on liberation, personal and political, asopposed to the bitch, ho, and motherfucker message ofmuch rap." Later than evening at Robbins Book Store, Marvin X wasgiven a proper introduction by poet Lamont Steptoe,winner of the Pew award. He quoted from an interviewby Lee Hubbard, Marvin X Unplugged, see AALBC orChickenBones He also quoted from the preface toMarvin's collection of essays, In the Crazy HouseCalled America, which called for a national generalstrike. The poet dialogued with hip hop journalist Justin SoulOne Bedford, a Philly native, who recently interviewedSpike Lee. But much of Marvin's comments were directedto the two young males traveling with him, aged 16 and25. "All that I am doing now is to save these youngmen and others like them. We must surround them withlove to save their lives. We have formed a dream teamto save them, composed of their mother, uncles andaunt." He suggested other parents, relatives, andcommunity members do the same with their young males. As per young females, Nisa Ra, Marvin's friend, formerwife and mother of his daughter, Muhammida, isconsulting with him to write a book on how she raisedtheir daughter, a Howard University graduate,entrepreneur and filmmaker, Hip Hop: The New WorldOrder, go to www.suninleo.com. Muhammida is filmingher father's tour for a documentary on the Black ArtsMovement and Hip Hop. On Thursday, she will dialogue with her father atthe Medgar Evers College film series, 7pm. It ispossible there will be a screening of Marvin's filmTHE KINGS AND QUEENS OF BLACK CONSCIOUSNESS, a videodocumentary he produced from the 2001 concert at SanFrancisco State University, featuring Amina and AmiriBaraka, Dr. Cornel West, Julia and Nathan Hare, Kalamuya Salaam, Rev. Cecil Williams of Glide Church,Ishmael Reed, Askia Toure, Marvin X, and many others. Marvin was totally surprised to learn one audience member was his comrade from the 60s liberationstruggle, Muhammad Ahmad (Max Stanford, Jr.), leaderof Revolutionary Action Movement (RAM ). Marvin was totally humbled when Muhammad introduced himself andexchanged his recently published WE WILL RETURN IN THEWHIRLWIND, a history of Black Radical Organizations.* * * * *
Marvin X East Coast Tour
Ishmael Reed says "Forget about spending hundreds ofdollars for motivational and prosperity seminars. Justgo stand next to Marvin X and watch him sell hisbooks."
Little may be known in the mainstream of poet/writer Marvin X but within circles of radical and independentartists and thinkers, he remains an icon! "Marvin X is one of the founders and innovators of the Black Arts Movement." --Amiri Baraka
This month, the Bay area legend heads east for a booksigning/reading tour of his latest release, Beyond Religion-Toward Spirituality: Essays on Consciousness.Longtime friends/associates/ comradessuch as Sonia Sanchez, Amiri Baraka, and Ed Bullins host Marvin X onthe road. He will also bridge the gap with dialoguefrom the new generation of young writers, journalistsand activists.
Philadelphia
Friday, April 6 : 7pmHosted by Sonia SanchezPrivate. Contact rsvp@suninleo. com for details
Saturday, April 7
WEB DuBois Center--University ofPenn,
3pmBridging the Gap- dialogue with writer Justin SoulOne Bedford Introduction by poet Lamont B. SteptoeRobin's Bookstore 108 S. 13th Street 7pmNewark,
New Jersey
Sunday, April 8 : 6pmHosted by Amiri & Amina Baraka
808 S. 10th Street, Newark
Brooklyn
Wednesday, April 11 : 7pm
Bridging the Gap- dialogue with Cuban Hip Hopactivist, Ariel FernandezHosted by Sun in Leo @ House of Van Buren 145 Van Buren Street, Bed-Stuy
April 12, 7pmMedgar Evers CollegeFilm Series
Marvin X dialogue with daughter,filmmaker Muhammida El Muhammida
Boston
Sunday, April 15 : 6pmHosted by Ed Bullins and Askia ToureAfrican American Gallery76 Atherton, Jamaica Plains, MAHartford,
Connecticut
April 20 Hosted by novelist Dana Rondel265 Oxford Street, Hartford
Brooklyn
April 27 : 6:30pmSista's Place -Nostrand & Jefferson
Washington DC
April 28Hosted by Baba LumumbaUmoja Gallery -2015 Bunker Hill Rd, NE
For more information, please contact events@suninleo.com 718-574-6331 www.marvinxwrites.blogspot
Brother Hasan on the State of the Race
Marvin,
I hope you are doing well. The other day a young brother (his father told he that he is an honor student) was robbed for two dollars several feet away from his parents' home by two young punks. I heard the punk in question screaming that he should shot him. The young brother kept asking him: "But what did I do?"
That a young brother could "almost" lose his life at Ground Zero Black America over two dollars is breathtaking in its scope. I mean, I would have given this punk two dollars had he asked me for it; but, he did not know that I was looking at him out my window. I called the police and the reason I called the police is this: There is no male backup in these communities any longer to set the tone for civility. The main character, for example, in True To The Game by Terri Woods is a drug dealer with a Muslim name. It seems that she is suggesting that even the Muslims, who provided some degree of hope in these communities, are no longer respected and, furthermore are lost in a maddening mayhem.
What we are facing, Brother Marvin, is far more complex than a "child left behind." We are dealing with the consequences of "generations being left behind" and, in the absence of some kind of new socially engineered race, these folks are not going to catch up. What is the implications of this as a matter of public and social policy?
Many of the books now "flooding" Ground Zero Black America are basically trashy Black romance novels. I ride the bus every morning in the 'hood and one is hard pressed to see most our people reading anything at all. In fact, I cannot find a copy of Ebony or Jet magazine in a predominantly black neighborhood and would have to travel a considerable distance to find a book by Ishmael Reed. It is really incredible.
The Africans, for example, in New York City are busy involved in commercial endeavors. They are not espousing (if so, they are skillfully keeping it to themselves) any idea of the-way-we-were Afrocentricity and, in fact, probably think those of us born in America are completely out of our minds.
This is a time when clear minds with a will towards something concrete must prevail. A mind is a terrible thing to waste, so they say, and I am trying to determine what was lost when one has no discernible frame of reference at all.
I hope you are doing well. The other day a young brother (his father told he that he is an honor student) was robbed for two dollars several feet away from his parents' home by two young punks. I heard the punk in question screaming that he should shot him. The young brother kept asking him: "But what did I do?"
That a young brother could "almost" lose his life at Ground Zero Black America over two dollars is breathtaking in its scope. I mean, I would have given this punk two dollars had he asked me for it; but, he did not know that I was looking at him out my window. I called the police and the reason I called the police is this: There is no male backup in these communities any longer to set the tone for civility. The main character, for example, in True To The Game by Terri Woods is a drug dealer with a Muslim name. It seems that she is suggesting that even the Muslims, who provided some degree of hope in these communities, are no longer respected and, furthermore are lost in a maddening mayhem.
What we are facing, Brother Marvin, is far more complex than a "child left behind." We are dealing with the consequences of "generations being left behind" and, in the absence of some kind of new socially engineered race, these folks are not going to catch up. What is the implications of this as a matter of public and social policy?
Many of the books now "flooding" Ground Zero Black America are basically trashy Black romance novels. I ride the bus every morning in the 'hood and one is hard pressed to see most our people reading anything at all. In fact, I cannot find a copy of Ebony or Jet magazine in a predominantly black neighborhood and would have to travel a considerable distance to find a book by Ishmael Reed. It is really incredible.
The Africans, for example, in New York City are busy involved in commercial endeavors. They are not espousing (if so, they are skillfully keeping it to themselves) any idea of the-way-we-were Afrocentricity and, in fact, probably think those of us born in America are completely out of our minds.
This is a time when clear minds with a will towards something concrete must prevail. A mind is a terrible thing to waste, so they say, and I am trying to determine what was lost when one has no discernible frame of reference at all.
Reply to Dr. Asa Hillard on the Cultural Revolution
Dear Brother Asa:Thanks for your clarification but my real desire is see how can we help the "bootleggers" spread the truth, maybe even pay them if we could find sponsors so that our material could be given out freely--in the way Imam Khomeini launched his revolution with cassette tapes and in the way "self respecting" preachers give away free copies of their books and tapes. What about getting our material produced in China--I know the SFSU Black Studies Journal was printed in Taiwan. Basically I am saying we need to launch a true cultural revolution in the hood by flooding it with black consciousness material so that "no child is left behind" and all can make a great leap forward into the new millennium with educational material that will counteract the reactionary filth that rap is spreading along with public school disinformation that is killing the desire to learn in our children.The panelist talked about returning to some of the post-slavery educational models. Indeed, I read that during those years they had to beat the children out of the classroom to make them go home because of their burning desire to learn. Today we must beat them into the classroom. I spoke to students at Oakland's McClymonds High School recently. As I began my talk the students informed me the police was outside rounding up students. The Oakland School District went 100 million in debt because students failed to show up for class. We must take over our schools but with radical teachers and radical materials that will hold the attention of students even unto the midnight hour. Also, I especially liked what one panelist said about the intergenerational schools--this is what is really needed--many parents of today need to be in classrooms with their children because in their parental ignorance they undo all that is done for the child at school.Thank you for being one of the great minds of our time. You know I remember you when you were the Dean of Education at SFSU. No one is all wrong and no one is all right. Let's do the damn thing.
Peace,Marvin X
Asa Hilliard III wrote: Hello Brother Marvin, thank you for being present at Wade Nobles' celebration. I wanted to clarify my comment from the interview. I did not mean to say that the young people were involved in widespread distribution. I intended to refer to the bootlegging of audio and videotapes of many speakers, and that their products are easily available on the streets in New York, Atlanta etc. I also do not mean to approve that practice, just to say that in the absence of financial support and institutional vehicles for dissemination is a continuing problem for the messages. Thanks for covering our meeting. AsaAsa G. Hilliard III-Nana Baffour Amankwatia II>>> Marvin X 06/05/05 2:53 PM >>>
Peace,Marvin X
Asa Hilliard III
Black Muslim Writers in Turkish
dear br
how are youthank you very much for informing me about your activities and also I am pleased to know you have been regarded as the father of black islamic lit in the USAs I tried to point out in my previous letters i am keen to introduce the black muslim writers into turkish in principal. I have chosen the poets with muslim name. Having said that i am aware of the problems our coloured brothers facing in americaregardles of their belief i have always supportedtheir struggle agains injustices i need you help I need your support would you give my address to the black muslim poets-story writeressayis-novelist, play ,..asked them to send me selection of their work. More than twenty years ago i have started this project by Allah's grace i should finalise it. i am looking forward to receiving your booksps inshallah I will be in Turkey in August so i shall try to find publisher for your selection as well as others I am hopeful the publisher who published NazrulIslam- Bengali National Poet- might undertake such publications.
with my salaams
mevlut
how are youthank you very much for informing me about your activities and also I am pleased to know you have been regarded as the father of black islamic lit in the USAs I tried to point out in my previous letters i am keen to introduce the black muslim writers into turkish in principal. I have chosen the poets with muslim name. Having said that i am aware of the problems our coloured brothers facing in americaregardles of their belief i have always supportedtheir struggle agains injustices i need you help I need your support would you give my address to the black muslim poets-story writeressayis-novelist, play ,..asked them to send me selection of their work. More than twenty years ago i have started this project by Allah's grace i should finalise it. i am looking forward to receiving your booksps inshallah I will be in Turkey in August so i shall try to find publisher for your selection as well as others I am hopeful the publisher who published NazrulIslam- Bengali National Poet- might undertake such publications.
with my salaams
mevlut
Black Scholars in Crisis?
Black Scholars in Crisis?
by Marvin X
The nation's Afrocentric scholars met in Oakland this past weekend to celebrate the work and birthday of professor Dr. Wade Nobles. I believe the late Dr. John Henry Clark once remarked, "What is an Afro?" But generally speaking, Afrocentricism is the African approach to reality as opposed to the European approach. The Afrocentrists look at the world through the lens of African colored glasses. Whatever problems I've had with my Afrocentric brothers and sisters ended on Saturday at Allen Temple Baptist Church, site of panel discussions on the subject.
I was doing all right in my generally held views to the left of almost everyone on the planet.
Alas, my daughter asked me the other night, "Dad, is there anyone you like?" I said no, including myself. I have mixed feelings about everything and everyone, but then a strange thing happened as I sat listening to a panel discussion: an African goddess glided past me so black and beautiful that my mind did astro-travel to Africa in that instant--my mind was completely taken by the beauty of the goddess walking past me; all my antipathy to Afrocentrism evaporated and I was thereafter able to enjoy the full message of the day, although I retained a small measure of critical analysis, but, clearly, the power of the African goddess had me under her control. How could I be so weak, or, perhaps, how could she exercise such power? Local poet Phavia has a poem that repeats the line: "If you think I'm just a physical thing, you don't know the spiritual power that I bring."
Had the conference organizers told the goddess to glide past Marvin X so we'll have him in our corner? Maybe so.
I had arrived late and was chided by conference organizer and daughter of Dr. Nobles. The panel on education was in session but I had missed panelist Dr. Asa Hilliard, although I would question him later during the press conference. Dr. Safiya Madhubuti reviewed the work of Third World Press, the Institute of Positive Education and the Betty Shabazz charter school founded by her and her husband Haki (aka Don L. Lee) in Chicago. Her comments echoed those of former superintendent of schools, Dr. Ruth Love, who said we cannot expect the public schools to save us. We must save ourselves. Dr. Love told of her trips to Africa and the eagerness African youth have to become educated under the direst poverty. She suggested African American youth need to visit Africa to gain an appreciation of education.
At the press conference attended by fellow journalists Wanda Sabir and Charles Aikens, I was able to question Dr. Wade Nobles, Dr. Asa Hilliard, Dr. J. Alfred Smith and priestess Iyana Vanzant. I asked Dr. Nobles about the state of black people. He said we’re going backward and forward simultaneously, perhaps like Michael Jackson dancing the moonwalk.
Recently, a brother asked me to sign one of my books by writing, “Up with spirituality, down with religion,” so I asked Rev. Dr. J. Alfred Smith his views on this. He said, “Well, Jesus was against religion. When we had this complex built, the Pharisees and Sadducees opposed me; they didn’t want this edifice built for the people in the hood.”
Journalist Wanda Sabir asked the scholars how should she relate to her just received tenure at a local college. Iyana Vanzant told her to be true to herself, to follow in the tradition. Indeed, Dr. Nobles said she must pick up the baton until victory is won. He added that even today was a victory, by the fact that we are having this conversation. Dr. Hilliard noted that this is indeed the mission of Afrocentric scholars, to have conversations with the people.
I was troubled by the answer to my question, “How can the work of black scholars get to the people in the hood in the way CDs and DVDs are being sold on the street?” Dr. Hilliard said, “It is being done. The youth are selling CDs and DVDs of Afrocentric scholars across the country.”
I take issue with this for I doubt one can go anywhere in Oakland to find youth selling the audio or video works of Dr. Hilliard, Dr. Nobles, or even Iyana Vanzant.
Dr. Asa Hilliard responds to Marvin X:
Hello Brother Marvin, thank you for being present at Wade Nobles'
celebration. I wanted to clarify my comment from the interview. I did not
mean to say that the young people were involved in widespread
distribution. I intended to refer to the bootlegging of audio and videotapes of
many speakers, and that their products are easily available on the
streets in New York, Atlanta etc. I also do not mean to approve that
practice, just to say that in the absense of financial support and
institutional vehicles for dissemination is a continuing problem for the
messages.
Thanks for covering our meeting. Asa
Asa G. Hilliard III-Nana Baffour Amankwatia II
May 24, 2007 8:19 AM
by Marvin X
The nation's Afrocentric scholars met in Oakland this past weekend to celebrate the work and birthday of professor Dr. Wade Nobles. I believe the late Dr. John Henry Clark once remarked, "What is an Afro?" But generally speaking, Afrocentricism is the African approach to reality as opposed to the European approach. The Afrocentrists look at the world through the lens of African colored glasses. Whatever problems I've had with my Afrocentric brothers and sisters ended on Saturday at Allen Temple Baptist Church, site of panel discussions on the subject.
I was doing all right in my generally held views to the left of almost everyone on the planet.
Alas, my daughter asked me the other night, "Dad, is there anyone you like?" I said no, including myself. I have mixed feelings about everything and everyone, but then a strange thing happened as I sat listening to a panel discussion: an African goddess glided past me so black and beautiful that my mind did astro-travel to Africa in that instant--my mind was completely taken by the beauty of the goddess walking past me; all my antipathy to Afrocentrism evaporated and I was thereafter able to enjoy the full message of the day, although I retained a small measure of critical analysis, but, clearly, the power of the African goddess had me under her control. How could I be so weak, or, perhaps, how could she exercise such power? Local poet Phavia has a poem that repeats the line: "If you think I'm just a physical thing, you don't know the spiritual power that I bring."
Had the conference organizers told the goddess to glide past Marvin X so we'll have him in our corner? Maybe so.
I had arrived late and was chided by conference organizer and daughter of Dr. Nobles. The panel on education was in session but I had missed panelist Dr. Asa Hilliard, although I would question him later during the press conference. Dr. Safiya Madhubuti reviewed the work of Third World Press, the Institute of Positive Education and the Betty Shabazz charter school founded by her and her husband Haki (aka Don L. Lee) in Chicago. Her comments echoed those of former superintendent of schools, Dr. Ruth Love, who said we cannot expect the public schools to save us. We must save ourselves. Dr. Love told of her trips to Africa and the eagerness African youth have to become educated under the direst poverty. She suggested African American youth need to visit Africa to gain an appreciation of education.
At the press conference attended by fellow journalists Wanda Sabir and Charles Aikens, I was able to question Dr. Wade Nobles, Dr. Asa Hilliard, Dr. J. Alfred Smith and priestess Iyana Vanzant. I asked Dr. Nobles about the state of black people. He said we’re going backward and forward simultaneously, perhaps like Michael Jackson dancing the moonwalk.
Recently, a brother asked me to sign one of my books by writing, “Up with spirituality, down with religion,” so I asked Rev. Dr. J. Alfred Smith his views on this. He said, “Well, Jesus was against religion. When we had this complex built, the Pharisees and Sadducees opposed me; they didn’t want this edifice built for the people in the hood.”
Journalist Wanda Sabir asked the scholars how should she relate to her just received tenure at a local college. Iyana Vanzant told her to be true to herself, to follow in the tradition. Indeed, Dr. Nobles said she must pick up the baton until victory is won. He added that even today was a victory, by the fact that we are having this conversation. Dr. Hilliard noted that this is indeed the mission of Afrocentric scholars, to have conversations with the people.
I was troubled by the answer to my question, “How can the work of black scholars get to the people in the hood in the way CDs and DVDs are being sold on the street?” Dr. Hilliard said, “It is being done. The youth are selling CDs and DVDs of Afrocentric scholars across the country.”
I take issue with this for I doubt one can go anywhere in Oakland to find youth selling the audio or video works of Dr. Hilliard, Dr. Nobles, or even Iyana Vanzant.
Dr. Asa Hilliard responds to Marvin X:
Hello Brother Marvin, thank you for being present at Wade Nobles'
celebration. I wanted to clarify my comment from the interview. I did not
mean to say that the young people were involved in widespread
distribution. I intended to refer to the bootlegging of audio and videotapes of
many speakers, and that their products are easily available on the
streets in New York, Atlanta etc. I also do not mean to approve that
practice, just to say that in the absense of financial support and
institutional vehicles for dissemination is a continuing problem for the
messages.
Thanks for covering our meeting. Asa
Asa G. Hilliard III-Nana Baffour Amankwatia II
May 24, 2007 8:19 AM
Afrocentrists Come to Oakland
Afrocentrists Coming to Oakland
Oakland will be the host of a celebration of Afrocentric scholars this weekend. On Friday there will be a reception and book signing at the Berkeley Black Rep Theatre with such scholars as Haki Madhdubuti, Mike Eric Dyson, Molefe Asante, Asa Hillard, Dr. Theophile Obenga, Oba T'Shaka, Maulana Karenga and others. Saturday the scholars will hold discussions at Allen Temple Church and on Sunday the event concludes with a brunch at Geoffrey's.
The Oakland Post newspaper asked Marvin X to cover the event, so stay tuned for his comments. The Afrocentrists have not fared well in his essays. According to the poet, Afrocentrism will be relevant when it focuses on dry bones in the hood rather than bones in Egypt and elsewhere. Black studies must focus on the dire condition of inner cities, the prison population, mental health issues and economic independence. Black scholars must go to the street corners and hug a thug before the thugs hug them!
Where is your King Tut after 400 years in America? Will your bling bling last four thousand years?
The event celebrates the 30 years of Dr. Wade Nobles Institude for the Study of Black Life and his 60th birthday. Tickets to the events are in the $50-100.00 range so unless the scholars have scholarships for the Hug A Thug brothers and sisters, it may turn out to be a meeting of the elite singing to the choir. Read David Walker's Appeal, the chapter on our wretchedness in consequence of education. Or Carter G. Woodson's Miseducation of the Negro.
__________________________________________________
Oakland will be the host of a celebration of Afrocentric scholars this weekend. On Friday there will be a reception and book signing at the Berkeley Black Rep Theatre with such scholars as Haki Madhdubuti, Mike Eric Dyson, Molefe Asante, Asa Hillard, Dr. Theophile Obenga, Oba T'Shaka, Maulana Karenga and others. Saturday the scholars will hold discussions at Allen Temple Church and on Sunday the event concludes with a brunch at Geoffrey's.
The Oakland Post newspaper asked Marvin X to cover the event, so stay tuned for his comments. The Afrocentrists have not fared well in his essays. According to the poet, Afrocentrism will be relevant when it focuses on dry bones in the hood rather than bones in Egypt and elsewhere. Black studies must focus on the dire condition of inner cities, the prison population, mental health issues and economic independence. Black scholars must go to the street corners and hug a thug before the thugs hug them!
Where is your King Tut after 400 years in America? Will your bling bling last four thousand years?
The event celebrates the 30 years of Dr. Wade Nobles Institude for the Study of Black Life and his 60th birthday. Tickets to the events are in the $50-100.00 range so unless the scholars have scholarships for the Hug A Thug brothers and sisters, it may turn out to be a meeting of the elite singing to the choir. Read David Walker's Appeal, the chapter on our wretchedness in consequence of education. Or Carter G. Woodson's Miseducation of the Negro.
__________________________________________________
Of Black People and Nigguhs
Of Black People and Nigguhs
I am sick and tired of nigguhs discussin nigguh. I go beyond Chris Rock who said he loves black people but hates nigguhs. I love black people and nigguhs too! Nigguh is now a billion dollar word, so who would be so stupid to stop using it but a stupid nigguh.
--Marvin X
I am sick and tired of nigguhs discussin nigguh. I go beyond Chris Rock who said he loves black people but hates nigguhs. I love black people and nigguhs too! Nigguh is now a billion dollar word, so who would be so stupid to stop using it but a stupid nigguh.
--Marvin X
Ishmael Reed Reviews Land of My Daughters, poems, by Marvin X
Ishmael Reed Reviews Land of My Daughters by Marvin X
Marvin X has been a witness to history. He shows that an excellent
minority writer can raise issues that the mainstream publishers and book
reviewers find hard to grapple with. Don't look for this book to be
reviewed in the San Francisco Chronicle Book Review.
His Land of My Daughters includes poems written between 1995-2005. The
subjects include private relationships, heroes and she-roes, eulogies,
and problems that effect African-American communities from coast to
coast. For example, the callous and casual killing of young people caught
up in the competition over drug markets. These children were raised by
television and its crass appeal to materialism: "Tommy
Hilfiger...Nike." Some of their music is little more than a list of brand names and a few Hip Hop performers have even stooped to peddling alcohol.
In his "Let's Get Back to Normal," he addresses the issue of "only
nigguhs killing nigguhs." People forget that black on black murder was
experiencing a decline until 1984 when crack began to appear in the ghetto
streets as a product. In another poem Marvin X condemns the abuse of
alcohol in his "Jesus and Liquor Stores," implying that both Christianity
and Liquor are ghetto obsessions.
Marvin X prefers the religion of the prophet Muhammad. In his "How To
Love A Thinking Woman" he cites Sufism, Sunni and other branches of
Islam. "Let Allah know you know Him and serve Him."
He mentions a number of 1960s activists, names with which the young
generation might not be familiar: Kwame Toure, Eldridge Cleaver, Rap
Brown, Huey Newton, Betty Shabazz, Dudley Randall, Lil Bobby Hutton. There
are a number of poems about Amiri Baraka and his family. Among the most
moving poems in this collection are those about his own family.
Like many black fathers caught up in poverty and the revolutionary
ferment of the 1960s, Marvin X was an absent father and has spent years
making up for that absence.
He, Huey Newton, Eldridge Cleaver and others were also casualties of
the chemical attack on African Americans in the form of crack and alcohol
waged by corporations and a government that placed questionable foreign
policy goals above the health of its citizens.
Marvin X survived his personal hell and provides a lesson to members of
the younger generation. He is an example of what one can overcome
through will. Addiction is as American as Apple Pie and it engulfs the local
crack and heroin addicts as well as Wall Street moguls and President's
daughters. Marvin X kicked his and lived to tell about it in his brilliant and powerful play "One Day In The Life."
Many of those who inspired the cultural revolution of the 1960s remain
stuck there. This volume shows that Marvin X has moved on.
__________
Ishmael Reed is an internationally known poet, playwright, novelist,
editor, and publisher.
He is a supporter of Marvin X's many projects, including participating
in the Kings and Queens of Black Consciousness at San Francisco State
University, 2001, and the San Francisco Black Radical Book Fair, 2004.
Bay Area residents can catch Marvin X performing at Oakland’s Java
House Wednesday evening, June 1. Los Angeles folks can catch him at the
2nd Annual Los Angeles Black Book Expo, June 11-12, where he will be
presented a life-time achievement award.
Marvin X and the 60s are the subject of a just released book The Black
Arts Movement: Literary Nationalism in the 1960s and 1970s by James E.
Smethurst, University of North Carolina Press, 2005.
Marvin X has been a witness to history. He shows that an excellent
minority writer can raise issues that the mainstream publishers and book
reviewers find hard to grapple with. Don't look for this book to be
reviewed in the San Francisco Chronicle Book Review.
His Land of My Daughters includes poems written between 1995-2005. The
subjects include private relationships, heroes and she-roes, eulogies,
and problems that effect African-American communities from coast to
coast. For example, the callous and casual killing of young people caught
up in the competition over drug markets. These children were raised by
television and its crass appeal to materialism: "Tommy
Hilfiger...Nike." Some of their music is little more than a list of brand names and a few Hip Hop performers have even stooped to peddling alcohol.
In his "Let's Get Back to Normal," he addresses the issue of "only
nigguhs killing nigguhs." People forget that black on black murder was
experiencing a decline until 1984 when crack began to appear in the ghetto
streets as a product. In another poem Marvin X condemns the abuse of
alcohol in his "Jesus and Liquor Stores," implying that both Christianity
and Liquor are ghetto obsessions.
Marvin X prefers the religion of the prophet Muhammad. In his "How To
Love A Thinking Woman" he cites Sufism, Sunni and other branches of
Islam. "Let Allah know you know Him and serve Him."
He mentions a number of 1960s activists, names with which the young
generation might not be familiar: Kwame Toure, Eldridge Cleaver, Rap
Brown, Huey Newton, Betty Shabazz, Dudley Randall, Lil Bobby Hutton. There
are a number of poems about Amiri Baraka and his family. Among the most
moving poems in this collection are those about his own family.
Like many black fathers caught up in poverty and the revolutionary
ferment of the 1960s, Marvin X was an absent father and has spent years
making up for that absence.
He, Huey Newton, Eldridge Cleaver and others were also casualties of
the chemical attack on African Americans in the form of crack and alcohol
waged by corporations and a government that placed questionable foreign
policy goals above the health of its citizens.
Marvin X survived his personal hell and provides a lesson to members of
the younger generation. He is an example of what one can overcome
through will. Addiction is as American as Apple Pie and it engulfs the local
crack and heroin addicts as well as Wall Street moguls and President's
daughters. Marvin X kicked his and lived to tell about it in his brilliant and powerful play "One Day In The Life."
Many of those who inspired the cultural revolution of the 1960s remain
stuck there. This volume shows that Marvin X has moved on.
__________
Ishmael Reed is an internationally known poet, playwright, novelist,
editor, and publisher.
He is a supporter of Marvin X's many projects, including participating
in the Kings and Queens of Black Consciousness at San Francisco State
University, 2001, and the San Francisco Black Radical Book Fair, 2004.
Bay Area residents can catch Marvin X performing at Oakland’s Java
House Wednesday evening, June 1. Los Angeles folks can catch him at the
2nd Annual Los Angeles Black Book Expo, June 11-12, where he will be
presented a life-time achievement award.
Marvin X and the 60s are the subject of a just released book The Black
Arts Movement: Literary Nationalism in the 1960s and 1970s by James E.
Smethurst, University of North Carolina Press, 2005.
Of Parents and Children
Of Parents and Children
by Marvin X
A few days ago my estranged oldest child, Marvin, emailed me to let me know my seven year old granddaughter, Jazmin, would be performing in a track meet at San Francisco's Kezar Stadium. I was happy but shocked to hear from my son because we seem to have a personality conflict. And as sons are known to do, he appears to identify with his mother more than with me, although my second son, Darrel or Abdul, now deceased, was indeed my best friend--even though some parents are against children being their friend, and yes, there were times when Abdul crossed the line and became too friendly, forgetting he was the son and I was the father, but we were tight and did some things that bonded us in a way I cannot imagine doing with my son Marvin. This may simply be due to personality differences. Abdul was just a regular kind of guy, but Marvin is more private, even secretive, so things I could discuss with Abdul I know I will never discuss with Marvin.
Anyway, when I got his email about Jazmin, I made plans to be at the track meet. I missed the first day of the two day event because I attended the Malcolm X Jazz Festival in Oakland on last Saturday. On Sunday I called my daughter to find out what time Jazmin was running. She didn't know what time but the meet started at 8AM and was over at 12 noon. Since it was 9AM when I checked with my daughter, I jumped in the shower and headed to San Francisco, even though I didn't know what time she was running, but something told me not to worry because I was going to see her run, and sure enough after parking the car and entering the gate, there she was coming out the blocks for the 200. She led the entire time, with no one close to her at the finish line. It was her third medal, she had won the 100 and the long jump, and is among the top five in her age group in the state. I was amazed to see her give the black power salute as she received her third medal of the meet. Since the event was in
honor of Tommy Smith, I assumed she had seen that famous photo of Tommy and John Carlos at the Mexico City Olympics. I informed her mother (my son was not able to attend on Sunday) that I played basketball against Tommy Smith in high school down in Fresno. Her mother wanted to know if I was going to write about this event, since she said she read my latest books in the bathroom, and the subject of my family had certain shock value in the bathroom. I assured her I was going to write something, so....
While selling my books in front of DeLauer's bookstore in downtown Oakland, (my books are inside but hidden behind a cigarette ad), I took a lunch break at a sandwich shop. As I was eating, a woman came in talking on the cell phone, having a conversation with her son.
"Boy, you don't know who your mother is. I am not going to stand for this foolishness out of you. You better do the right thing cause I don't have no time to play with you and your dumb mess. I'm on my way to work right now to take care of you and here you are messing up in school. I'm not going to stand for it. Do you understand boy--do you hear me--you better listen to me cause I am not playing. Get yourself together and I mean quick--do you understand?"
A few hours later I was out at a shopping center near Richmond. As I got out of the car, a man was on the phone talking with his son.
"Boy, you don't know who your father is. I am not going to stand for this foolishness out of you. You better do the right thing cause I don't have no time to play with you and your dumb mess. I am very angry with you and I want you to know that. Do you understand me, boy. Man, you got to shape up cause I'm not playing with you, boy. I will slam dunk yo ass. Do you hear me. I ain't got no time for your mess, man. You better get it together and quick. Do you understand me? Stop messin up at school and do what those people tell you."
And so it is between parents and children, one day in the life.
by Marvin X
A few days ago my estranged oldest child, Marvin, emailed me to let me know my seven year old granddaughter, Jazmin, would be performing in a track meet at San Francisco's Kezar Stadium. I was happy but shocked to hear from my son because we seem to have a personality conflict. And as sons are known to do, he appears to identify with his mother more than with me, although my second son, Darrel or Abdul, now deceased, was indeed my best friend--even though some parents are against children being their friend, and yes, there were times when Abdul crossed the line and became too friendly, forgetting he was the son and I was the father, but we were tight and did some things that bonded us in a way I cannot imagine doing with my son Marvin. This may simply be due to personality differences. Abdul was just a regular kind of guy, but Marvin is more private, even secretive, so things I could discuss with Abdul I know I will never discuss with Marvin.
Anyway, when I got his email about Jazmin, I made plans to be at the track meet. I missed the first day of the two day event because I attended the Malcolm X Jazz Festival in Oakland on last Saturday. On Sunday I called my daughter to find out what time Jazmin was running. She didn't know what time but the meet started at 8AM and was over at 12 noon. Since it was 9AM when I checked with my daughter, I jumped in the shower and headed to San Francisco, even though I didn't know what time she was running, but something told me not to worry because I was going to see her run, and sure enough after parking the car and entering the gate, there she was coming out the blocks for the 200. She led the entire time, with no one close to her at the finish line. It was her third medal, she had won the 100 and the long jump, and is among the top five in her age group in the state. I was amazed to see her give the black power salute as she received her third medal of the meet. Since the event was in
honor of Tommy Smith, I assumed she had seen that famous photo of Tommy and John Carlos at the Mexico City Olympics. I informed her mother (my son was not able to attend on Sunday) that I played basketball against Tommy Smith in high school down in Fresno. Her mother wanted to know if I was going to write about this event, since she said she read my latest books in the bathroom, and the subject of my family had certain shock value in the bathroom. I assured her I was going to write something, so....
While selling my books in front of DeLauer's bookstore in downtown Oakland, (my books are inside but hidden behind a cigarette ad), I took a lunch break at a sandwich shop. As I was eating, a woman came in talking on the cell phone, having a conversation with her son.
"Boy, you don't know who your mother is. I am not going to stand for this foolishness out of you. You better do the right thing cause I don't have no time to play with you and your dumb mess. I'm on my way to work right now to take care of you and here you are messing up in school. I'm not going to stand for it. Do you understand boy--do you hear me--you better listen to me cause I am not playing. Get yourself together and I mean quick--do you understand?"
A few hours later I was out at a shopping center near Richmond. As I got out of the car, a man was on the phone talking with his son.
"Boy, you don't know who your father is. I am not going to stand for this foolishness out of you. You better do the right thing cause I don't have no time to play with you and your dumb mess. I am very angry with you and I want you to know that. Do you understand me, boy. Man, you got to shape up cause I'm not playing with you, boy. I will slam dunk yo ass. Do you hear me. I ain't got no time for your mess, man. You better get it together and quick. Do you understand me? Stop messin up at school and do what those people tell you."
And so it is between parents and children, one day in the life.
Review: Land of My Daughters, poems, by Marvin X
Land of My Daughters
Poems 1995-2005
by Marvin X
Reviewed by Rudolph Lewis
Marvin X (El Muhajir) is a marvelous writer in a black skin situated in America, and proudly a Muslim in these days and times when it ain't safe to be nowhere near or associated with Arabs and Muslims. He knows that White Supremacy is strutting mightily on the global stage, with no military and economic peer. Worst, the FBI got their bloodhounds out, kicking-in doors to save America from Muslim terrorists. So Marvin plays the odds, when the poor and weak need a voice, but mostly because like all artists he can stand momentarily outside the turmoil, challenged to take chances, just for the experiential hell of being near the fire.
For three years, in me, he has had a sympathetic observer. He is one of the most intellectually engaged black men in America making use of cyberspace to communicate nationally and internationally a unique, vital, and provocative African American perspective. His writings are at once political and personal, religious and secular, academic and street. And this integration is all done so seamlessly. As one of the proponents of the Black Arts Movement (60s and 70s), one might expect Marvin X to be rigidly ideological. Marvin X is rather a chameleon. Most of all Marvin is Marvin. But to become one's self is no small achievement. And that's the wonder of him as a contemporary poet.
Marvin uses the past rather than glorifying it as some romantic poets tend to do. He confronts what is now happening straight up, straight on. That is what is so delightful about Marvin, who is much freer than many of us could ever be. His was no freedom given, like Abe in '63. Marvin's run the gauntlet, the gamut, and came through it all like High John the Conqueror. He freed the Sisyphus, lodged in all our souls. And the rest is gravy.
He has come out the other side whole, far beyond his youthful work as a proponent of the Black Arts. He deals now with subjects other than race and race pride and race oppression. He deals with the ethics of the actual life we live moment by moment, the daily agents that confront you daily for food clothing shelter and a bit of joy. He has lived the horrors of America and filters all through the harshness and victory of that world he has lived as both a man and a Muslim. .
There's no sugar coating deception in Marvin's writings. Expect to get it the way it happens, get it like you would from an Uncle or an Aunt. The real deal, the low down, the mamma-jamma. His vision is as diamond hard as the gunpowder night streets he frequents and the street people he saves from a life of drugs, prostitution, and criminality. He sympathizes with the outsider, the down and out, because he's been there, and knows everybody needs a chance and a little love and understanding.
Marvin's last decade can be experienced vividly in the recent collection of poems, Land of My Daughters (2005). Often dated, these poems are strong responses to some event, some feeling, some word that required nurturing introspection and report. And Marvin was there ready to put his contribution on the table for consideration. Many of the poems in this volume are already familiar; Marvin shares his poems and his essays with those on his email list and those on Kalamu's e-drum. Because Marvin be writing because he be on the case every day dealing with local, national, and international events trying to make sense out of a world being reshaped disastrously by Democrats and Republicans.
In any event, there ain't no poem that ain't special in Land of My Daughters. Because that's how Marvin loves his people, every individual as if she the One. A poem unfamiliar "Why I Love Lesbians" is a controversial poem of such simplicity and honesty -- it is disarming. Marvin says, "I love them cause they hate me / In their hatred is drama / . . . / They step backward / At my manly aggression."
Marvin bees the man ("arrogant masculinity") he been trained to be. But the times have changed; Cleaver the Id (Super Gun) is dead. And Marvin is Man Plus: "But I wouldn't take the pussy / Have become wiser / In old age." Marvin, sixty years old, is still adapting to his environment (like a Green Beret) yet retaining his own integrity and worth. Violence solves nothing. He now believes in the power of the word, to transform the thinking, change the training not only of others but himself (the poet) as well.
This gender reorientation and realistic appraisal of women is also mirrored in the popular How to Love a Thinking Woman. Get me right, Marvin ain't gone soft or nothing, just "wiser." And it's good advice to listen to those who have gotten their ass whipped over foolishness, those who have traveled the trail we now trying to traverse. So a "Thinking Woman" is about more than women: it is about how to be a man in contemporary times:
Make her laugh til she comes in panties
With serious jokes to get her mind off the world
Never let her figure you out
Be always a mystery
When she figures you out you're through
Don't be that dumb
Giving the Other what she wants or thinks she wants is not enough. There is more to man than just repressive patriarchy and violence. A manly identity is not all that needs or solicits hatred. Viva la difference. There's a sacred place man and woman can meet beyond yesterday's crimes.
Marvin has a few dedicated poems of those who have come and stood on the world stage and made their notable contributions to the struggle: for the Barakas on the loss of their daughter (When Parents Bury Children and "Remembering Shani Barka"); Eldridge Cleaver ("Soul Gone Home"); Stokely Carmichael ("For Kwame Touré"); Lil Joe ("Revolutionary Rain"); Dudley Randall ("Black Man Listen"); and Sherley A. Williams ("Two Poets in the Park").
Sherley was the girl that got away, the girl his Mama told him he "ought / to marry" and didn't -- "a bad relationship was better than no relationship." So there they were "sitting in the park after 17 years of silence . . . now there is only one." It is a poem of love without sentimentality.
Marvin, I believe, has integrated Islam into his sensibility and thinking and it has provided him a certain mental discipline which in turn is reflected in his poems. "I Am" is such a philosophical poem, and Marvin concludes "If you are the best / pass and go." "The Devil Stole My Children," a poem of loss, might draw on some Islamic folktale. I'm uncertain what Jerusalem and Damascus symbolize in this landscape. I suspect Christianity, or, at least, a certain form of commercial Christianity. It's not unusual for Marvin to take swipes at Christianity in the Malcolm tradition, which is done very openly in the poem "Jesus and Liquor Stores": "JESUS / CAN'T HELP YOU / COULDN'T HELP HIMSELF."
This rough kind of humor, primarily mockery and sarcasm, this putting to shame approach can be found in "The Negro Knows Everything." But I like Marvin's humor. He's persuaded me that we should take ourselves so less seriously in that stiff ass way of being unable to learn to laugh at ourselves again: "On her dying bed, my Mama said, / 'Marvin, leave then nigguhs alone. . .' " And, of course, one cannot leave one's self alone "And Mama died and I love dem nigguhs." Here's a poet committed to his people despite their weaknesses and evils or rather, in a way, because they have them.
Doubtless, Marvin X is a revolutionary poet. In these days and times of the Repression of the Poor, the era in which every dime is contested, and corporations have the executive key to our lives, how can one be anything else but? "Yesterday, more than 20,000 people perished of extreme poverty." And we suspect the same to happen tomorrow as far as we can see. That kind of action will make even the dullest think there is something amiss. That we are not getting "all of the news."
And here is where we need the most skillful of poets, to fill in the gaps, to show us what really has value, in a world in which human life is being steadily eroded to objects (resources) for profit, and endless money making. In his "Poetics 2000," an update of Amiri Baraka's Black Art, poems don't kill. "Poetry will raise the dead / Make Lazarus stand." The poet must struggle against opportunist rhetoric and "Speak straight and plain about the world / Like Clay in Dutchman."
"Joy" and "You Are Spirit" are just delightful. For Marvin the spirit or soul of man is reflected in how he uses and to what purpose he delivers his body to man or woman. He believes that right love can transform lust into love, into meaning, and purpose. But there is lots more to sink your teeth into like "Terrorist" and "Poem for 9/11/03." If you want serious artistic writing, a bit of comfort in the evening by the fireplace, Land of My Daughters will make you feel alive and whole again.
* * * *
Land of My Daughters is available from Black Bird Press, 11132 Nelson Bar Road, Cherokee CA 95965, 19.95. Or email Marvin -- mrvnx@yahoo.com
Poems 1995-2005
by Marvin X
Reviewed by Rudolph Lewis
Marvin X (El Muhajir) is a marvelous writer in a black skin situated in America, and proudly a Muslim in these days and times when it ain't safe to be nowhere near or associated with Arabs and Muslims. He knows that White Supremacy is strutting mightily on the global stage, with no military and economic peer. Worst, the FBI got their bloodhounds out, kicking-in doors to save America from Muslim terrorists. So Marvin plays the odds, when the poor and weak need a voice, but mostly because like all artists he can stand momentarily outside the turmoil, challenged to take chances, just for the experiential hell of being near the fire.
For three years, in me, he has had a sympathetic observer. He is one of the most intellectually engaged black men in America making use of cyberspace to communicate nationally and internationally a unique, vital, and provocative African American perspective. His writings are at once political and personal, religious and secular, academic and street. And this integration is all done so seamlessly. As one of the proponents of the Black Arts Movement (60s and 70s), one might expect Marvin X to be rigidly ideological. Marvin X is rather a chameleon. Most of all Marvin is Marvin. But to become one's self is no small achievement. And that's the wonder of him as a contemporary poet.
Marvin uses the past rather than glorifying it as some romantic poets tend to do. He confronts what is now happening straight up, straight on. That is what is so delightful about Marvin, who is much freer than many of us could ever be. His was no freedom given, like Abe in '63. Marvin's run the gauntlet, the gamut, and came through it all like High John the Conqueror. He freed the Sisyphus, lodged in all our souls. And the rest is gravy.
He has come out the other side whole, far beyond his youthful work as a proponent of the Black Arts. He deals now with subjects other than race and race pride and race oppression. He deals with the ethics of the actual life we live moment by moment, the daily agents that confront you daily for food clothing shelter and a bit of joy. He has lived the horrors of America and filters all through the harshness and victory of that world he has lived as both a man and a Muslim. .
There's no sugar coating deception in Marvin's writings. Expect to get it the way it happens, get it like you would from an Uncle or an Aunt. The real deal, the low down, the mamma-jamma. His vision is as diamond hard as the gunpowder night streets he frequents and the street people he saves from a life of drugs, prostitution, and criminality. He sympathizes with the outsider, the down and out, because he's been there, and knows everybody needs a chance and a little love and understanding.
Marvin's last decade can be experienced vividly in the recent collection of poems, Land of My Daughters (2005). Often dated, these poems are strong responses to some event, some feeling, some word that required nurturing introspection and report. And Marvin was there ready to put his contribution on the table for consideration. Many of the poems in this volume are already familiar; Marvin shares his poems and his essays with those on his email list and those on Kalamu's e-drum. Because Marvin be writing because he be on the case every day dealing with local, national, and international events trying to make sense out of a world being reshaped disastrously by Democrats and Republicans.
In any event, there ain't no poem that ain't special in Land of My Daughters. Because that's how Marvin loves his people, every individual as if she the One. A poem unfamiliar "Why I Love Lesbians" is a controversial poem of such simplicity and honesty -- it is disarming. Marvin says, "I love them cause they hate me / In their hatred is drama / . . . / They step backward / At my manly aggression."
Marvin bees the man ("arrogant masculinity") he been trained to be. But the times have changed; Cleaver the Id (Super Gun) is dead. And Marvin is Man Plus: "But I wouldn't take the pussy / Have become wiser / In old age." Marvin, sixty years old, is still adapting to his environment (like a Green Beret) yet retaining his own integrity and worth. Violence solves nothing. He now believes in the power of the word, to transform the thinking, change the training not only of others but himself (the poet) as well.
This gender reorientation and realistic appraisal of women is also mirrored in the popular How to Love a Thinking Woman. Get me right, Marvin ain't gone soft or nothing, just "wiser." And it's good advice to listen to those who have gotten their ass whipped over foolishness, those who have traveled the trail we now trying to traverse. So a "Thinking Woman" is about more than women: it is about how to be a man in contemporary times:
Make her laugh til she comes in panties
With serious jokes to get her mind off the world
Never let her figure you out
Be always a mystery
When she figures you out you're through
Don't be that dumb
Giving the Other what she wants or thinks she wants is not enough. There is more to man than just repressive patriarchy and violence. A manly identity is not all that needs or solicits hatred. Viva la difference. There's a sacred place man and woman can meet beyond yesterday's crimes.
Marvin has a few dedicated poems of those who have come and stood on the world stage and made their notable contributions to the struggle: for the Barakas on the loss of their daughter (When Parents Bury Children and "Remembering Shani Barka"); Eldridge Cleaver ("Soul Gone Home"); Stokely Carmichael ("For Kwame Touré"); Lil Joe ("Revolutionary Rain"); Dudley Randall ("Black Man Listen"); and Sherley A. Williams ("Two Poets in the Park").
Sherley was the girl that got away, the girl his Mama told him he "ought / to marry" and didn't -- "a bad relationship was better than no relationship." So there they were "sitting in the park after 17 years of silence . . . now there is only one." It is a poem of love without sentimentality.
Marvin, I believe, has integrated Islam into his sensibility and thinking and it has provided him a certain mental discipline which in turn is reflected in his poems. "I Am" is such a philosophical poem, and Marvin concludes "If you are the best / pass and go." "The Devil Stole My Children," a poem of loss, might draw on some Islamic folktale. I'm uncertain what Jerusalem and Damascus symbolize in this landscape. I suspect Christianity, or, at least, a certain form of commercial Christianity. It's not unusual for Marvin to take swipes at Christianity in the Malcolm tradition, which is done very openly in the poem "Jesus and Liquor Stores": "JESUS / CAN'T HELP YOU / COULDN'T HELP HIMSELF."
This rough kind of humor, primarily mockery and sarcasm, this putting to shame approach can be found in "The Negro Knows Everything." But I like Marvin's humor. He's persuaded me that we should take ourselves so less seriously in that stiff ass way of being unable to learn to laugh at ourselves again: "On her dying bed, my Mama said, / 'Marvin, leave then nigguhs alone. . .' " And, of course, one cannot leave one's self alone "And Mama died and I love dem nigguhs." Here's a poet committed to his people despite their weaknesses and evils or rather, in a way, because they have them.
Doubtless, Marvin X is a revolutionary poet. In these days and times of the Repression of the Poor, the era in which every dime is contested, and corporations have the executive key to our lives, how can one be anything else but? "Yesterday, more than 20,000 people perished of extreme poverty." And we suspect the same to happen tomorrow as far as we can see. That kind of action will make even the dullest think there is something amiss. That we are not getting "all of the news."
And here is where we need the most skillful of poets, to fill in the gaps, to show us what really has value, in a world in which human life is being steadily eroded to objects (resources) for profit, and endless money making. In his "Poetics 2000," an update of Amiri Baraka's Black Art, poems don't kill. "Poetry will raise the dead / Make Lazarus stand." The poet must struggle against opportunist rhetoric and "Speak straight and plain about the world / Like Clay in Dutchman."
"Joy" and "You Are Spirit" are just delightful. For Marvin the spirit or soul of man is reflected in how he uses and to what purpose he delivers his body to man or woman. He believes that right love can transform lust into love, into meaning, and purpose. But there is lots more to sink your teeth into like "Terrorist" and "Poem for 9/11/03." If you want serious artistic writing, a bit of comfort in the evening by the fireplace, Land of My Daughters will make you feel alive and whole again.
* * * *
Land of My Daughters is available from Black Bird Press, 11132 Nelson Bar Road, Cherokee CA 95965, 19.95. Or email Marvin -- mrvnx@yahoo.com
Review: Wish I Could Tell You The Truth, essays by Marvin X
Wish I Could Tell You the Truth
Essays by Marvin X
Reviewed by Rudolph Lewis
I been listening to Wish I, a CD of an interview of Marvin X on KPOO-Radio in San Francisco. Though I been checking out Marvin for a season I never been with him in the flesh and never heard his voice except on the page, and in cyber-communications. And from reports by Kalamu ya Salaam. The Wish I CD affirmed how I imagined him and how I tried to characterize him in my review of his book of poetry, Land of My Daughters.
Funny, outrageous, challenging Marvin X is on the same tier as Amiri Baraka and Kalamu ya Salaam in putting on an entertaining program. For in "Why I Love Lesbians," Marvin says, "In their hatred is drama / I love drama." Marvin's first love is theater, he is poet and shaman, skilled in manipulating the passions like the preacher in the pulpit, or the Harlem soapbox orator, or the barbershop orators found throughout the black community. In his Wish I Could Tell You the Truth--Essays, Marvin X has created a book that mirrors the orature in bull sessions, ubiquitous in black speech and poetry, in the barbershop.
That is, Malcolm X ain't got nothing on Marvin X. Still Marvin has been ignored and silenced like Malcolm would be ignored and silenced if he had lived on into the Now. Marvin's one of the most extraordinary, exciting black intellectuals living today--writing, publishing, performing with Sun Ra musicians, reciting, filming, he's ever engaging, challenging the respectable and the comfortable. He like Malcolm dares to say things, fearlessly, in the open (in earshot of the white man) that so many Negroes feel and think and speak on the corner, in the barbershops and urban streets of black America.
Discourse by exaggeration and humor has its place in serious intellectual enquiry. Everybody don't have to wear the nerdy mask and inky cloak and speak in the autocratic tones of academia. Marvin's dramatic style and political approach could not be tolerated at the University since Ronald Reagan forced him out of the California university system, which signaled the castration of black studies at white universities.
In short, Wish I Could Tell You the Truth is one of the most daring, innovative, entertaining group of "essays" I ever had yet to read. In a true sense this book is a literary replication of the barbershop experience. The street rap. Yet much more sophisticated, informed, daring, philosophical. And it is sheer arrogance and snootiness that he has been ignored or overlooked by PBS, CNN, and FOX. And by black literary societies and colleges. Because his thinking is dangerous, and his simple courage is infectious. And anybody who's heard him know that Chris Rock and Amiri Baraka ain't got nothing on Marvin, once he gets to improvising. Marvin is a truth teller, and just as funky as James Brown.
Wish I Could Tell You the Truth is, too, an intellectual and philosophical autobiography. Boswell has nothing on this journalistic foray, that sweeps the planet in its thinking. Marvin is a storyteller. Like Abby Lincoln, Marvin's voice matches the story he tells. He ain't no Cornel West. With Marvin you cannot separate the story from the voice, one reinforces the other. Though everyday speech is in Marvin's writing, his writing is artistic writing and different from his oral performances. Marvin is no linear thinker and so you have to take him in in the all in all, between the covers, you got to read him fully to appreciate truly what he has achieved as an artist and as a man.
The tone of Wish I Could Tell You the Truth is established in a forty-page autobiographical note beginning with his birth during an age of war, the impact of broken family life, youthful love, exposés, going on to his academic career, antiwar activism, criminal on the run, hustler, civic reformer, and revolutionary. This autobiographical section is primarily episodic and expressionistic rather than linear and analytical. It is Marvin's expertise as storyteller that carries us forward for his views are often surprising and shocking. Marvin don't pull no punches when lives are involved.
"Negroes see me and they get on a skateboard," Marvin observes. "I don't have no money, I ain't got no bank account, I ain't got no job, and I ain't had no job in twenty five years, you understand, I don't have no power but the word, and Negroes run from me, scare to death, they scared, Mama . . . but they ain't scared of doing whatever the white man tells him. Going to Iraq, dying like flies . . . won't die for a purpose. . . . dying on the streets of America. . . . for no purpose, at all . . . they learn all this from the white man, really. Because that's how they think. Bush think there ain't no consequence to his actions. . . Bush always needs another cowboy . . . but he don't understand . . . the Indians are coming . . . THE INDIANS ARE COMING . . . they coming for you . . . the Ancestor Spirits of the Black Man and Woman are coming for you, Mr. White Man, unless you clean up. . . . you understand."
Now this kind of speech scares Black Academia in the company of their white colleagues. And the white professional does not want to endure his female colleagues squeamish in their chairs because of Marvin's voice. But Marvin is a radical advocate of free speech, "Don't sell me no sheetrock, for my pipe. . . . Give me some love, give me some truth. It does not matter whether you black or white . . . the weapon of today is consciousness, not color . . . we been trained to be warriors . . . God was training us for war . . . but they [we] don't have the right word, the right directions . . . turning them into constitutional slaves."
Well this kind of nationalist speech would make a Martin Kilson squirm. There's no place in the academy and black studies programs for nationalists like a Marvin X or an Amiri Baraka or a Kalamu ya Salaam. Three of the most extraordinary men (writers, artists) of our time alienated, separated, barred from the Academy, and the "accepted" (the "pragmatic activists") embarrassed by their presence and speech.
In his response to Reverend Eugene Rivers' "Beyond the Nationalism of Fools: Toward An Agenda for Black Intellectuals" (Boston Review), Kilson argued we don't need "a new-mode Black nationalist discourse issue . . . . For me, all variants of Black nationalist modalities have spent-their-load, as it were, whether here in US, in the Caribbean, or in the many African states where it is fully bankrupt." So Marvin has nothing a Kilson can respect, unworthy of his intellectual attention or recommendation.
Marvin and Baraka have "spent their load"!!! Is that the real deal? Or just the Academic Black Ball. But this kind of autocracy within black political discourse and acts and educational arenas should have been dispensed with yesterday. Here's a matter in need of serious consideration. If the Du Bois Chair at Harvard is going to be the Chair for Black Humanities and the political, social, and cultural arbiter of Black Life and Culture, shouldn't we black folks have something to say who sits in the Chair?
Baraka had more books, more scholarship than Skip Gates, more organizational skills, he was more representative of the sentiments of black youth and Du Bois, an activist scholar, par excellence. But we didn't have a hand in it, we folk, because white money is more persuasive, than dedication and sacrifice, and even community shaming. If we were truly a nation we could by vote choose our representatives and leaders. We wouldn't have to wait for good white people to choose them. Let's vote for our Idol.
So Marvin writes: "The activist scholars were long ago removed from academia as a threat to Western scholarship and community liberation. Safe, qualified negroes were brought in who would control the natives and have them chasing rocks in Egypt rather than stopping gunshots in the hood by providing alternative consciousness. . . . Black studies was not about degrees, but the liberation of a people . . . . the community would be better served giving consciousness to dry bones in the hood."
But Strong Men keep on pushing, despite isolation, alienation, and banishment. There ain't no stopping Strong Men, says Sterling Brown. And Marvin is a nationalist with a global consciousness. But our primary "mission is self and community development, not esoteric journeys to the Motherland to discover much to his dismay and utter disappointment that he is not an African but a pitiful American mutation, a mongrel, in short, a white man in black face, a disconnected descendant, even worse than ET because he can't call home even when he gets there."
But it is "even more important that he makes peace with the trees and swamps and bayous of Mississippi, Alabama and Louisiana, then perhaps the ancestors in Africa will accept him and assuage his mind . . . better . . . connect with the ghetto blacks he . . . earnestly desires to escape." We are schizophrenic (you know, Du Bois' "double consciousness"). Negroes "got ten different personalities . . . negroes know how to act. . . Tom was a killer, he had murder in his heart." So for the dope gangs, we need to "make peace with them, teach them to make peace with themselves." But we also have too many black celebrities, like Crouch, Cosby, and West, "cultural police for the black bourgeoise," destructively "Beyond the Ignorance Zone."
So, you see, Marvin is refreshing. He's a Liberator. He has freed up contemporary black public speech, primarily controlled by the hip hop industry, Hollywood, the communication industry, and educational factories like Harvard and black public schools. He's like no Muslim you have heard speak. And this is odd for the usual impulse is to think of Muslims as limiting speech and especially the speech of women. For he knows the "light don't come on if you don't turn the switch. . . . Flip the switch on, dummy . . . you got to put on the armor of God and you can walk through the valley of shadow and death. . . . I had the armor of God on me when I was out there, when I was out there in the projects, on crack."
War, religion, and cultural ethics are the steak of Marvin's extended discussion. Wish I Could Tell You the Truth is thus cultural criticism at its best. "In the Name of Love," Marvin explains, "Love ain't love if it cuts too deep." For many Marvin probably cuts "too deep." It's a book that would frighten a Tavis Smiley or a Jesse Jackson or a Skip Gates. Though he says he's a Muslim, on reading Marvin you can only guess he is a Muslim. He don't pray five times a day and he don't ascribe to some of the cultural practices of some Muslims and thus he has made a call for a "Radical Spirituality."
The slave religion cultivated by black mega-preachers and Saudi-supported Islam are better understood as a "religion box." Marvin continues, "But we know the people have been hoodwinked and bamboozled, therefore it is the mission of the truly spiritually conscious to step to the front of the line and represent, not hide in the closet and let the masquerade continue." Marvin is wary of religious institutions that exist for the priests primarily. "We have been told to seek ye first the kingdom of heaven and all things, yea, even political and economic things will be added unto ye."
Marvin is against imperialist wars, e.g. Iraq and Haiti. He was a Vietnam-era anti-war activist on the run, from Canada to Central America. And he takes position on Israel that no black academic would dare take, no black elected official would allow pass through his lips. "Israel is the number one problem in the Middle East. Israel is no less a fascist, nazi, apartheid state backed with the money and armaments of America. Israel is the only threat to peace in the Middle East."
Whether Israel is the "only threat" my political sympathies do not extend so far. What's troubling is Israel is beyond criticism, if you want to win public office in America. And our 800 public black officials and academicians know how their bread is buttered. And as it used to be with our black mayors, there is no full criticism, but rather a mumbling, hypocritical silence. Nationalism is okay for the Jew, but not the American Negro, for they ain't got no guns and capital, and certainly, thank God, they ain't nuclear.
So in the spirit of Marvin I'm gonna call on and thank God, Allah, Jesus, Jah, Jehovah, Buddha, Karl Marx, and Lenin, and call on the Ancestors to bless you with a copy of Wish I Could Tell You the Truth. Don't run from Marvin, give him an ear. The brother got truths you need to hear, that will clean us up. Liberate the captive. Build a new black world, real free zones. And he's got some lies, too, but it's all good. Contrary to Kilson's view, life is still in black nationalism. For Marvin Black is White and White is Black. He ain't fearing being fired, he says what he wants to say. . . . Praise God in the name of Love.
* * * *
I Wish, a 2CD reading/interview with Marvin X is available from Black Bird Press, 11132 Nelson Bar Road, Cherokee CA 95965, 19.95.
__________________________________________________
Essays by Marvin X
Reviewed by Rudolph Lewis
I been listening to Wish I, a CD of an interview of Marvin X on KPOO-Radio in San Francisco. Though I been checking out Marvin for a season I never been with him in the flesh and never heard his voice except on the page, and in cyber-communications. And from reports by Kalamu ya Salaam. The Wish I CD affirmed how I imagined him and how I tried to characterize him in my review of his book of poetry, Land of My Daughters.
Funny, outrageous, challenging Marvin X is on the same tier as Amiri Baraka and Kalamu ya Salaam in putting on an entertaining program. For in "Why I Love Lesbians," Marvin says, "In their hatred is drama / I love drama." Marvin's first love is theater, he is poet and shaman, skilled in manipulating the passions like the preacher in the pulpit, or the Harlem soapbox orator, or the barbershop orators found throughout the black community. In his Wish I Could Tell You the Truth--Essays, Marvin X has created a book that mirrors the orature in bull sessions, ubiquitous in black speech and poetry, in the barbershop.
That is, Malcolm X ain't got nothing on Marvin X. Still Marvin has been ignored and silenced like Malcolm would be ignored and silenced if he had lived on into the Now. Marvin's one of the most extraordinary, exciting black intellectuals living today--writing, publishing, performing with Sun Ra musicians, reciting, filming, he's ever engaging, challenging the respectable and the comfortable. He like Malcolm dares to say things, fearlessly, in the open (in earshot of the white man) that so many Negroes feel and think and speak on the corner, in the barbershops and urban streets of black America.
Discourse by exaggeration and humor has its place in serious intellectual enquiry. Everybody don't have to wear the nerdy mask and inky cloak and speak in the autocratic tones of academia. Marvin's dramatic style and political approach could not be tolerated at the University since Ronald Reagan forced him out of the California university system, which signaled the castration of black studies at white universities.
In short, Wish I Could Tell You the Truth is one of the most daring, innovative, entertaining group of "essays" I ever had yet to read. In a true sense this book is a literary replication of the barbershop experience. The street rap. Yet much more sophisticated, informed, daring, philosophical. And it is sheer arrogance and snootiness that he has been ignored or overlooked by PBS, CNN, and FOX. And by black literary societies and colleges. Because his thinking is dangerous, and his simple courage is infectious. And anybody who's heard him know that Chris Rock and Amiri Baraka ain't got nothing on Marvin, once he gets to improvising. Marvin is a truth teller, and just as funky as James Brown.
Wish I Could Tell You the Truth is, too, an intellectual and philosophical autobiography. Boswell has nothing on this journalistic foray, that sweeps the planet in its thinking. Marvin is a storyteller. Like Abby Lincoln, Marvin's voice matches the story he tells. He ain't no Cornel West. With Marvin you cannot separate the story from the voice, one reinforces the other. Though everyday speech is in Marvin's writing, his writing is artistic writing and different from his oral performances. Marvin is no linear thinker and so you have to take him in in the all in all, between the covers, you got to read him fully to appreciate truly what he has achieved as an artist and as a man.
The tone of Wish I Could Tell You the Truth is established in a forty-page autobiographical note beginning with his birth during an age of war, the impact of broken family life, youthful love, exposés, going on to his academic career, antiwar activism, criminal on the run, hustler, civic reformer, and revolutionary. This autobiographical section is primarily episodic and expressionistic rather than linear and analytical. It is Marvin's expertise as storyteller that carries us forward for his views are often surprising and shocking. Marvin don't pull no punches when lives are involved.
"Negroes see me and they get on a skateboard," Marvin observes. "I don't have no money, I ain't got no bank account, I ain't got no job, and I ain't had no job in twenty five years, you understand, I don't have no power but the word, and Negroes run from me, scare to death, they scared, Mama . . . but they ain't scared of doing whatever the white man tells him. Going to Iraq, dying like flies . . . won't die for a purpose. . . . dying on the streets of America. . . . for no purpose, at all . . . they learn all this from the white man, really. Because that's how they think. Bush think there ain't no consequence to his actions. . . Bush always needs another cowboy . . . but he don't understand . . . the Indians are coming . . . THE INDIANS ARE COMING . . . they coming for you . . . the Ancestor Spirits of the Black Man and Woman are coming for you, Mr. White Man, unless you clean up. . . . you understand."
Now this kind of speech scares Black Academia in the company of their white colleagues. And the white professional does not want to endure his female colleagues squeamish in their chairs because of Marvin's voice. But Marvin is a radical advocate of free speech, "Don't sell me no sheetrock, for my pipe. . . . Give me some love, give me some truth. It does not matter whether you black or white . . . the weapon of today is consciousness, not color . . . we been trained to be warriors . . . God was training us for war . . . but they [we] don't have the right word, the right directions . . . turning them into constitutional slaves."
Well this kind of nationalist speech would make a Martin Kilson squirm. There's no place in the academy and black studies programs for nationalists like a Marvin X or an Amiri Baraka or a Kalamu ya Salaam. Three of the most extraordinary men (writers, artists) of our time alienated, separated, barred from the Academy, and the "accepted" (the "pragmatic activists") embarrassed by their presence and speech.
In his response to Reverend Eugene Rivers' "Beyond the Nationalism of Fools: Toward An Agenda for Black Intellectuals" (Boston Review), Kilson argued we don't need "a new-mode Black nationalist discourse issue . . . . For me, all variants of Black nationalist modalities have spent-their-load, as it were, whether here in US, in the Caribbean, or in the many African states where it is fully bankrupt." So Marvin has nothing a Kilson can respect, unworthy of his intellectual attention or recommendation.
Marvin and Baraka have "spent their load"!!! Is that the real deal? Or just the Academic Black Ball. But this kind of autocracy within black political discourse and acts and educational arenas should have been dispensed with yesterday. Here's a matter in need of serious consideration. If the Du Bois Chair at Harvard is going to be the Chair for Black Humanities and the political, social, and cultural arbiter of Black Life and Culture, shouldn't we black folks have something to say who sits in the Chair?
Baraka had more books, more scholarship than Skip Gates, more organizational skills, he was more representative of the sentiments of black youth and Du Bois, an activist scholar, par excellence. But we didn't have a hand in it, we folk, because white money is more persuasive, than dedication and sacrifice, and even community shaming. If we were truly a nation we could by vote choose our representatives and leaders. We wouldn't have to wait for good white people to choose them. Let's vote for our Idol.
So Marvin writes: "The activist scholars were long ago removed from academia as a threat to Western scholarship and community liberation. Safe, qualified negroes were brought in who would control the natives and have them chasing rocks in Egypt rather than stopping gunshots in the hood by providing alternative consciousness. . . . Black studies was not about degrees, but the liberation of a people . . . . the community would be better served giving consciousness to dry bones in the hood."
But Strong Men keep on pushing, despite isolation, alienation, and banishment. There ain't no stopping Strong Men, says Sterling Brown. And Marvin is a nationalist with a global consciousness. But our primary "mission is self and community development, not esoteric journeys to the Motherland to discover much to his dismay and utter disappointment that he is not an African but a pitiful American mutation, a mongrel, in short, a white man in black face, a disconnected descendant, even worse than ET because he can't call home even when he gets there."
But it is "even more important that he makes peace with the trees and swamps and bayous of Mississippi, Alabama and Louisiana, then perhaps the ancestors in Africa will accept him and assuage his mind . . . better . . . connect with the ghetto blacks he . . . earnestly desires to escape." We are schizophrenic (you know, Du Bois' "double consciousness"). Negroes "got ten different personalities . . . negroes know how to act. . . Tom was a killer, he had murder in his heart." So for the dope gangs, we need to "make peace with them, teach them to make peace with themselves." But we also have too many black celebrities, like Crouch, Cosby, and West, "cultural police for the black bourgeoise," destructively "Beyond the Ignorance Zone."
So, you see, Marvin is refreshing. He's a Liberator. He has freed up contemporary black public speech, primarily controlled by the hip hop industry, Hollywood, the communication industry, and educational factories like Harvard and black public schools. He's like no Muslim you have heard speak. And this is odd for the usual impulse is to think of Muslims as limiting speech and especially the speech of women. For he knows the "light don't come on if you don't turn the switch. . . . Flip the switch on, dummy . . . you got to put on the armor of God and you can walk through the valley of shadow and death. . . . I had the armor of God on me when I was out there, when I was out there in the projects, on crack."
War, religion, and cultural ethics are the steak of Marvin's extended discussion. Wish I Could Tell You the Truth is thus cultural criticism at its best. "In the Name of Love," Marvin explains, "Love ain't love if it cuts too deep." For many Marvin probably cuts "too deep." It's a book that would frighten a Tavis Smiley or a Jesse Jackson or a Skip Gates. Though he says he's a Muslim, on reading Marvin you can only guess he is a Muslim. He don't pray five times a day and he don't ascribe to some of the cultural practices of some Muslims and thus he has made a call for a "Radical Spirituality."
The slave religion cultivated by black mega-preachers and Saudi-supported Islam are better understood as a "religion box." Marvin continues, "But we know the people have been hoodwinked and bamboozled, therefore it is the mission of the truly spiritually conscious to step to the front of the line and represent, not hide in the closet and let the masquerade continue." Marvin is wary of religious institutions that exist for the priests primarily. "We have been told to seek ye first the kingdom of heaven and all things, yea, even political and economic things will be added unto ye."
Marvin is against imperialist wars, e.g. Iraq and Haiti. He was a Vietnam-era anti-war activist on the run, from Canada to Central America. And he takes position on Israel that no black academic would dare take, no black elected official would allow pass through his lips. "Israel is the number one problem in the Middle East. Israel is no less a fascist, nazi, apartheid state backed with the money and armaments of America. Israel is the only threat to peace in the Middle East."
Whether Israel is the "only threat" my political sympathies do not extend so far. What's troubling is Israel is beyond criticism, if you want to win public office in America. And our 800 public black officials and academicians know how their bread is buttered. And as it used to be with our black mayors, there is no full criticism, but rather a mumbling, hypocritical silence. Nationalism is okay for the Jew, but not the American Negro, for they ain't got no guns and capital, and certainly, thank God, they ain't nuclear.
So in the spirit of Marvin I'm gonna call on and thank God, Allah, Jesus, Jah, Jehovah, Buddha, Karl Marx, and Lenin, and call on the Ancestors to bless you with a copy of Wish I Could Tell You the Truth. Don't run from Marvin, give him an ear. The brother got truths you need to hear, that will clean us up. Liberate the captive. Build a new black world, real free zones. And he's got some lies, too, but it's all good. Contrary to Kilson's view, life is still in black nationalism. For Marvin Black is White and White is Black. He ain't fearing being fired, he says what he wants to say. . . . Praise God in the name of Love.
* * * *
I Wish, a 2CD reading/interview with Marvin X is available from Black Bird Press, 11132 Nelson Bar Road, Cherokee CA 95965, 19.95.
__________________________________________________
Lifetime Achievement Award
Marvin X to Receive Lifetime Achievement Award at Los Angeles Black Book
Expo, June 10-11, 2005
Poet, playwright, essayist, activist, teacher and comic Marvin X will
receive a life-time achievement award at the 2nd Annual Los Angeles Black
Book Expo, June 10-11. Mr. X told event organizer Itbari Zulu he was excited
and grateful about the award but would also like a reward, as taught by his
elder Amiri Baraka. The reward,says Baraka, is the money. Itbari replied that he would get back to him on the matter of the reward.
The poet learned he is now being read every Wednesday in Philly at the
Laundromat on Chelton and Germantown Aves. Last Wednesday, patrons took
turns reading four chapters from his essays Wish I Could Tell You The Truth.
The reading series was organized by Recovery Theatre East director, Elliot
Bey, who also said one patron took the book home, claiming he just had to
finish reading it, promising to bring it back next week.
_____
Expo, June 10-11, 2005
Poet, playwright, essayist, activist, teacher and comic Marvin X will
receive a life-time achievement award at the 2nd Annual Los Angeles Black
Book Expo, June 10-11. Mr. X told event organizer Itbari Zulu he was excited
and grateful about the award but would also like a reward, as taught by his
elder Amiri Baraka. The reward,says Baraka, is the money. Itbari replied that he would get back to him on the matter of the reward.
The poet learned he is now being read every Wednesday in Philly at the
Laundromat on Chelton and Germantown Aves. Last Wednesday, patrons took
turns reading four chapters from his essays Wish I Could Tell You The Truth.
The reading series was organized by Recovery Theatre East director, Elliot
Bey, who also said one patron took the book home, claiming he just had to
finish reading it, promising to bring it back next week.
_____
Marvin X: A Critical Look at the Father of Muslim American Literature
COMING SOON
From BLACK BIRD PRESS
Marvin X:
A Critical Look At the Father
Muslim American Literature
Edited by Nefertiti El Muhajir
Preface
by
Dr. Mohja Kahf
Marvin X: First Muslim American Poet
Have spent the last few days (when not mourning with friends and family the passing of my family friend and mentor in Muslim feminism and Islamic work, Sharifa AlKhateeb, (may she dwell in Rahma), immersed in the work of Marvin X and amazed at his brilliance. This poet has been prolific since his first book of poems, Fly to Allah, (1965), right up to his most recent Love and War Poems (1995) and Land of My Daughters, 2005, not to mention his plays, which were produced (without royalties) in Black community theatres from the 1960s to the present, and essay collections such as In the Crazy House Called America, 2002, and Wish I Could Tell You The Truth, 2005.
Marvin X was a prime shaper of the Black Arts Movement (1964-1970s) which is, among other things, the birthplace of modern Muslim American literature, and it begins with him. Well, Malik Shabazz and him. But while the Autobiography of Malcolm X is a touchstone of Muslim American culture, Marvin X and other Muslims in BAM were the emergence of a cultural expression of Black Power and Muslim thought inspired by Malcolm, who was, of course, ignited by the teachings and writings of the Honorable Elijah Muhammad. And that, taken all together, is what I see as the starting point of Muslim American literature. Then there are others, immigrant Muslims and white American Muslims and so forth, that follow.
There are also antecedents, such as the letters of Africans enslaved in America. Maybe there is writing by Muslims in the Spanish and Portuguese era or earlier, but that requires archival research of a sort I am not going to be able to do. My interest is contemporary literature, and by literature I am more interested in poetry and fiction than memoir and non-fiction, although that is a flexible thing.
I argue that it is time to call Muslim American literature a field, even though many of these writings can be and have been classified in other ways--studied under African American literature or to take the writings of immigrant Muslims, studied under South Asian ethnic literature or Arab American literature. With respect to Marvin X, I wonder why I am just now hearing about him-I read Malcolm when I was 12, I read Amiri Baraka and Sonia Sanchez and others from the BAM in college and graduate school-why is attention not given to his work in the same places I encountered these other authors? Declaring Muslim American literature as a field of study is valuable because recontextualizing it will add another layer of attention to his incredibly rich body of work.
He deserves to be WAY better known than he is among Muslim Americans and generally, in the world of writing and the world at large. By we who are younger Muslim American poets, in particular, Marvin should be honored as our elder, one who is still kickin, still true to the word!
Love and War Poems is wrenching and powerful, combining a powerful critique of America ("America downsizes like a cripple whore/won't retire/too greedy to sleep/too fat to rest") but also a critique of deadbeat dads and drug addicts (not sparing himself) and men who hate. "For the Men" is so Quranic poem it gave me chills with verses such as:
for the men who honor wives
and the men who abuse them
for the men who win
and the men who sin
for the men who love God
and the men who hate
for the men who are brothers
and the men who are beasts
"O Men, listen to the wise," the poet pleads:
there is no escape
for the men of this world
or the men of the next
He is sexist as all get out, in the way that is common for men of his generation and his radicalism, but he is refreshingly aware of that and working on it. It's just that the work isn't done and if that offends you to see a man in process and still using the 'b' word, look out. Speaking of the easily offended, he warns in his introduction that "life is often profane and obscene, such as the present condition of African American people." If you want pure and holy, he says, read the Quran and the Bible, because Marvin is talking about "the low down dirty truth." For all that, the poetry of Marvin X is like prayer, beauty-full of reverence and honor for Truth. "It is. it is. it is."
A poem to his daughter Muhammida is a sweet mix of parental love and pride and fatherly freak-out at her sexuality and independence, ending humbly with:
peace Mu
it's on you
yo world
sister-girl
Other people don't get off so easy, including a certain "black joint chief of staff ass nigguh (kill 200,000 Muslims in Iraq)" in the sharply aimed poem "Free Me from My Freedom." (Mmm hmm, the 'n' word is all over the place in Marvin too.) Nature poem, wedding poem, depression poem, wake-up call poems, it's all here. Haiti, Rwanda, the Million Man March, Betsy Ross's maid, OJ, Rabin, Mumia Abu-Jamal, and other topics make it into this prophetically voiced collection of dissent poetry, so Islamic and so African American in its language and its themes, a book that will stand in its beauty long after the people mentioned in it pass. READ MARVIN X for RAMADAN!
Mohja Kahf
Associate Professor
Dept. of English & Middle East & Islamic Studies
University of Arkansas-Fayetteville
Introduction
Bismillah-r-Rahman-r-Rahim
If it is true that I am the father of modern Islamic literature in America, as Dr. Mohja Kahf proclaims, I would like to delineate my lineage. As a spiritual descendant of West African Muslims, I begin my literary biography in the Mali Empire, among those scholar/poet/social activists of Timbuktu: Ahmed Baba, Muhammad El-Mrili, Ahmed Ibn Said, Muhammad Al Wangari, and the later Sufi poet/warriors of Senegal and Hausaland, Ahmedu Bamba and Uthman dan Fodio.
In America, this literary tradition continued under the wretched conditions of slavery with the English/Arabic narratives of Ayub Suleimon Diallo, Ibrahima Abdulrahman Jallo, Bilali Mohammad, Salih Bilali, Umar Ibn Said and others who told how they got ovah, how they survived the worst terrorist regime in the history of mankind. Their narratives are thus the origin of Muslim literature in America, an integral part of the beginning of American and African American literature in general. There is some suspicion that David Walker, Frederick Douglas, Booker T. Washington and Benjamin Baneker may have also been descendants of Muslims. Certainly they share the Islamic spirit of creative resistance (any means necessary), and we must acknowledge this spirit in the Islamic and Pan African writings of Edward Wilmot Blyden, the greatest African intellectual of the late 19th century. See his Islam, Christianity and the Negro Race, 1887. While Marcus Garvey was in London,1912, being taught One God, One Aim, One Destiny, African For the Africans, Those At Home and Those Abroad, by his Egyptian Muslim mentor Duse Muhammad Ali, Noble Drew Ali,1913, established his Moorish Science Temple in Newark, New Jersey, later Chicago, and created his Seven Circle Koran, a synthesis of Qur'anic, Masonic, mystical and esoteric writings. And most importantly, Master Fard Muhammad arrived in Detroit, 1930, to deliver his Supreme Wisdom, mythological Sufi teachings, to the Honorable Elijah Muhammad, later summarized in Elijah's primers of mystical Islamic theology and black nationalism, Message To The Black Man and The Theology of Time.
The next major work is Malcolm X's Autobiography, with the assistance of Alex Haley. This neo-slave narrative bridged ancient and modern Islamic literature in America. Let us also include Louis Farakhan's off Broadway drama Organa and his classic song A White Man's Heaven is The Black Man's Hell, anthem of the Black revolution of the 60s. Amiri Baraka utilized the Muslim myth of Yacub in his play A Black Mass, one of his most powerful works, an examination of the cloning of the white man, not such a fantastic idea today since the white man has begun cloning himself. Askia Muhammad Toure must be credited for his Islamic writings, along with poetess Sonia Sanchez (Laila Mannan) who served a brief tenure in the Nation of Islam. Yusef Rahman and Yusef Iman created powerful Islamic poetry as well.
Now we may safely proceed into an examination of "Marvin's World." Enter at your own risk.
The following articles, essays, reviews and interviews give a good summary of opinion about the writer known as Marvin X, aka El Muhajir, Nazzam Al Fitnah, Maalik El Muhajir, Marvin Ellis Jackmon.
As-Salaam-Alaikum
El Muhajir (Marvin X)
5/19/05
Dedication
My life and my death are all for Allah. I believe in the teachings of the Most Honorable Elijah Muhammad. I believe in the teachings of Jelaluddin Balkhi, better known as Rumi. I believe in the teachings of Bawa Muhaiyaddeen. Gain a knowledge of my teachers and you will understand me. If you reject my teachers, there is no need for you to proceed further.
Chapter One: A Literary Biography
Lorenzo Thomas, Close Up and Personal
Michael E. Idland, A Voice That Must Be Heard
Lee Hubbard, Unplugged
Chapter Two: Autobiography, Somethin Proper, 1998
Dr. Nathan Hare, introduction to Somethin Proper
Dr. Julius E. Thompson, A Most Significant Work
Fahizah Alim, A Proper Response
James G. Spady, Making An Inventory and Constructing Self
Reginal Major, Trampling His Soul
Dingane (Joe Goncalves), Journey of A Restless Mind
Chapter Three: Drama, 1965--
Michael E. Idland, Major Works and Themes
Steven Winn, 'Day' A Searing Account of Addiction
Dr. Nathan Hare, Letter to Marvin X
Dennis Leroy Moore, Parable of the Man Who Was Crucified
Lil Joe, Sexual Repression in Sergeant Santa
Chapter Four: Essays, In the Crazy House Called America, 2002
James W. Sweeney, foreword
Suzzette Celeste, MSW, MPA, introduction
Dr. Nathan Hare, In the Crazy House of the Negro
Dr. Nathan Hare, Letter to Marvin X
Junious Ricardo Stanton, A Healing Peek Into His Psyche
La Vonda R. Staples and Brenda A. Sutton, A Yoruba Chief Holds Court
Lil Joe, Like Malcolm X, Marvin X Is A Revolutionary Muslim
John Woodford, Bittersweet Fruits of Wisdom
Aeeshah and Kokomon Clottey, The Quality of Heart
Brecht Forum, Existential Musing
Chapter Five: Poetry, Land of My Daughters, 2005
Rudolph Lewis, Using the Past Rather Than Glorifying
Ishmael Reed, Overcoming With Faith and Will
Chapter Six: Essays, Wish I Could Tell You The Truth, 2005
Rudolph Lewis, Discourse by Exaggeration and Humor
Lil Joe, The Evolution of Consciousness
Dr. Nathan Hare, He's Really That Good
Pam Pam, Wish I, interview
Terry Collins, Wish I, interview
Conclusion:
BIBLIOGRAPHY
BOOKS:
Sudan Rajuli Samia (Fresno: Al Kitab Sudan Publishing, 1967)
Black Dialectics (Fresno: Al Kitab Sudan, 1967)
Fly To Allah: Poems (Fresno: Al Kitab Sudan, 1969)
Son of Man: Proverbs (Fresno: Al Kitab Sudan, 1969)
Black Man Listen: Poems and Proverbs (Detroit: Broadside Press, 1969)
Woman-Man's Best Friend (San Francisco: Al Kitab Sudan, 1973)
Selected Poems (San Francisco: Al Kitab Sudan, 1979)
Confession of A Wife Beater and Other Poems (Fresno: Al Kitab Sudan, 1981)
Liberation Poems for North American Africans (Fresno: Al Kitab Sudan, 1982)
Love and War: Poems ( Castro Valley: Black Bird Press, 1995)
Somethin Proper: Autobiography (Castro Valley: Black Bird Press, 1998)
In The Crazy House Called America: Essays (Castro Valley: Black Bird Press, 2002)
Wish I Could Tell You The Truth: Essays (Cherokee: Black Bird Press, 2005)
Land of My Daughters: Poems (Cherokee: Black Bird Press, 2005)
Beyond Religion, toward Spirituality, essays on consciousness, 2007
Works In Progress:
Mama Said, autobiographical novel, Black Bird Press, 2008
Up From Ignorance: Essays (Cherokee: Black Bird Press, 2008)
Sweet Tea and Dirty Rice, Collected Poems(Cherokee: Black Bird Press, 2008)
In Sha Allah, A History of Black Muslims in the San Francisco Bay Area, 1954-2004.
Seven Years in the House of Elijah, A Woman's Search for Love and Spirituality by Nisa Islam as told to Marvin X.
PLAY SCRIPTS AND/OR PRODUCTIONS
Flowers for the Trashman, San Francisco: San Francisco State University Drama Department, 1965.
Flowers for the Trashman, San Francisco: Black Arts West/Theatre, 1966.
Take Care of Business, musical version of Flowers with music by Sun Ra, choreography by Raymond Sawyer and Ellendar Barnes: Your Black Educational Theatre, San Francisco, 1972.
Come Next Summer, San Francisco Black Arts/West, 1966.
The Trial, New York, Afro-American Studio for Acting and Speech, 1970.
Resurrection of the Dead, San Francisco, choreography by Raymond Sawyer, music by Juju and Sun Ra, Your Black Educational Theatre, 1972.
Woman-Man's Best Friend, musical, Oakland, Mills College, 1973.
How I Met Isa, Masters thesis, San Francisco State University, 1975.
In The Name of Love, Oakland, Laney College Theatre, 1981.
One Day In The Life, Oakland, Alice Arts Theatre, 1996.
One Day In The Life, Brooklyn, NY, Sistah's Place, 1997.
One Day In The Life, Manhattan, Brecht Forum, 1997.
One Day In The Life, Newark, NJ, Kimako's Blues, 1997.
One Day In The Life, Oakland, Uhuru House, 1998.
One Day In The Life, San Francisco, Bannam Place Theatre, North Beach, 1998.
One Day In The Life, San Francisco, Lorraine Hansberry Theatre, 1999.
One Day In the Life, Berkeley, Black Repertory Group Theatre, 1999.
One Day In the Life, Marin City, Marin City Rec Center, 1999
One Day In the Life, Richmond, Unity Church, 2000.
One Day In the Life, San Jose, San Jose State University, 2000.
One Day In the Life, Berkeley, Berkeley Repertory Theatre, 2000.
One Day In the Life, Sacramento, New Colonial Theatre, 2000.
Sergeant Santa, San Francisco, Recovery Theatre script, 2002.
OTHER:
Delicate Child, a short story, Oakland, Merritt College Student Magazine contest winner, 1963.
Delicate Child, a short story, Oakland, SoulBook Magazine, 1964.
Flowers for the Trashman: A One Act Drama, San Francisco, Black Dialogue Magazine, 1965.
Flowers for the Trashman, Black Fire, An Anthology of Afro-American Writing, edited by Amiri Baraka and Larry Neal, (New York: Morrow, 1968).
Take Care of Business: A One Act Drama, aka Flowers, (New York: The Drama Review, NYU,1968)
The Black Bird (Al Tair Aswad): A One-Act Play, New Plays from the Black Theatre, edited by Ed Bullins with introduction (interview of Ed Bullins) by Marivn X, (New York: Bantam, 1969)
"Islam and Black Art: An Interview with Amiri Baraka" and foreword by Askia Muhammad Toure, afterword by Marivn X, in Black Arts: An Anthology of Black Creations, edited by Ahmed Alhamisi and Haroun Kofi Wangara (Harold G. Lawrence) (Detroit: Black Arts Publications, 1969).
"Everything's Cool: An Interview with Amiri Barka, aka, LeRoi Jones", Black Theatre Magazine, New Lafayette Theatre, Harlem, NY, 1968.
Resurrection of the Dead, a ritual/myth dance drama, Black Theatre Magazine, New Lafayette Theatre, Harlem, 1969.
Manifesto of the Black Educational Theatre of San Francisco, Black Theatre, 1972.
The Black Bird, A Parable by Marvin X, illustrated by Karen Johnson ( San Francisco: Al Kitab Sudan and Julian Richardson and Associates Publishers, 1972).
"Black Justice Must Be Done," Vietnam and Black America: An Anthology of Protest and Resistance, edited by Clyde Taylor (Garden City: Double-day/Anchor, 1973)
"Palestine," a poem, Black Scholar magazine, 1978.
Journal of Black Poetry, guest editor, 1968.
"The Meaning of African Liberation Day," by Dr. Walter Rodney, a speech in San Francisco, transcribed and edited by Marvin X, Journal of Black Poetry, 1972.
Muhammad Speaks, foreign editor, 1970.
A Conversation with Prime Minister Forbes Burnham of Guyana, Black Scholar, 1973.
VIDEOGRAPHY
Proceedings of the Melvin Black Human Rights Conference, Oakland, 1979, featuring Angela Davis, Minister Farakhan, Eldridge Cleaver, Paul Cobb, Dezzie Woods-Jones, Jo Nina-Abran, Mansha Nitoto, Khalid Abdullah Tarik Al Mansur, Dr. Yusef Bey, Dr. Oba T-Shaka, and Marvin X.
Proceedings of the First Black Men's Conference, Oakland, 1980, John Douimbia, founder, Marvin X, chief planner, Dr. Nathan Hare, Dr. Wade Nobles, Dr. Yusef Bey, Dr. Oba T'Shaka, Dezzie Woods-Jones, et al.
Forum on Drugs, Art and Revolution, Sista's Place, Brooklyn, New York, 1997, featuring Amiri and Amina Baraka, Sonia Sanchez, Sam Anderson, Elombe Brath and Marvin X.
Eldridge Cleaver Memorial Service, produced by Marvin X, Oakland, 1998, participants included Kathleen and Joju Cleaver, Emory Douglas, Dr. Yusef Bey, Minister Keith Muhammad, Imam Al Amin, Dr. Nathan Hare, Tarika Lewis, Richard Aoki, Reginald Major, Majidah Rahman and Marvin X.
One Day in the Life, a docudrama of addiction and recovery, filmed by Ptah Allah-El, produced, written, directed and staring Marvin X, edited by Marvin X, San Francisco: Recovery Theatre, 1999.
Marvin X Interviews Bobby Seale, co-founder of the Black Panther Party, former actor in Marvin X's Black Theatre: Berkeley, La Pena Cultural Center, 1999.
Marvin X at Dead Prez Concert, San Francisco, 2000.
Kings and Queens of Black Consciousness, produced by Marvin X at San Francisco State University, 2001, featuring Dr. Cornel West, Amiri Baraka, Amina Baraka, Julia Hare, Dr. Nathan Hare, Rev. Cecil Williams, Destiny, Phavia, Tarika Lewis, Askia Toure, Kalamu Ya Salaam, Ishmael Reed, Dr. Theophile Obenga, Marvin X, et al.
Live In Philly At Warm Daddies, a reading accompanied by Elliot Bey, Marshall Allen, Danny Thompson, Ancestor Goldsky, Rufus Harley, Alexander El, 2002.
Marvin X Live in Detroit, a documentary by Abu Ibn, 2002.
In the Crazy House Called America, San Francisco: Buriel Clay Theatre, 2003.
Marvin X and Amiri Baraka, Berkeley: Black Repertory Group Theatre, 2003.
Marvin X Speaks at the Third Eye Conference, Dallas, Texas, 2003.
Marvin X and the Last Poets, San Francisco: Recovery Theatre, 2004.
Proceedings of the San Francisco Black Radical Book Fair, produced by Marvin X, San Francisco, Recovery Theatre, 2004, participants include: Sonia Sanchez, Davey D, Amiri Baraka, Sam Hamod, Fillmore Slim, Askia Toure, Akhbar Muhammad, Al Young, Devorah Major, Opal Palmer Adisa, Tarika Lewis, Amina Baraka, Julia and Nathan Hare, Charlie Walker, Jamie Walker, Reginald Lockett, Everett Hoagland, Sam Greenlee, Ayodelle Nzinga, Elliot Bey, Ptah Allah-El, Kalamu Ya Salaam, Marvin X, et al.
Get Yo Mind Right, Marvin X Barbershop Talks, Oakland: 2005.
Marvin X Live in the Fillmore at Rass'elas Jazz Club, San Francisco, 2005.
The Contributors
Mohja Kahf, professor of English and Islamic Literature, University of Arkansas. Her essay is revised (by ed.) from an earlier version that appeared online at Muslim Wake Up.Com. She is the senior editor of the forthcoming anthology Muslim American Literature, University of Arkansas Press. Marvin X is a co-editor. Her recent collection of poetry is E-Mails from Scheherazad, University Press of Florida.
Lorenzo Thomas, professor of English at the University of Houston, Texas, and author of Extraordinary Measures: Afrocentric Modernism and Twentieth-Century American Poetry, University of Alabama Press, 2000.
Michael Idland's essay is from African American Dramatists: A Bio-Bibliographical Critical Sourcebook, Greenwood Publishing Group, 2004.
Lee Hubbard is a Bay Area journalist, this interview appeared in the San Francisco Bayview newspaper.
Dr. Nathan Hare, sociologist/psychologist, is the father of black studies in America. He and his wife, Julia, are close associates, comrades and advisors to Marvin X. He is author of the classic sociological study The Black Anglo-Saxons. With wife Julia, he is co-author of The Endangered Black Family and The Miseducation of the Black Child.
Fahizah Alim writes for the Sacramento Bee newspaper. Marvin X is her mentor. Her critical comments on Islam and male/female relations have been a source of inspiration to the poet.
La Vonda R. Staples is an online personality for newblackcity.com and creator of "Literally Speaking," an internet live book club.
Brenda A. Sutton is the co-founder of Afrikan Consciousness Center group and information director for Afrikan American award winning author, Tina McElroy Ansa. La Vonda and Brenda are also co-authors of "An Incident in Mayville," unpublished.
James G. Spady's essay appeared in the Philadelphia New Observer. He is recipient of the American Book Award and the National Newspaper Association's Meritorious Award. His works have appeared in newspapers, magazines, scholarly journals such as African Studies Review, International Journal of African Studies, College Language Association Journal, Black Scholar, Presence Africaine, Journal of African Civilizations and elsewhere.
Steven Winn is drama critic for the San Francisco Chronicle.
John Woodford is former editor of Muhammad Speaks. He is currently editor of Michigan Today at the University of Michigan.
Suzzette Celeste, MSW, MPA is a social worker and spiritual practitioner at the East Bay Church of Religious Science. She also teaches counseling at Oakland's Merritt College.
James W. Sweeney is former director of the Oakland Support Center, an outpatient center for the homeless and dual diagnosed. He is a former Berkeley City Councilman.
Aeesha and Kokoman Clotty are directors of Attitudinal Healing Center in Oakland and co-authors of Racial Healing.
Rudolph Lewis manages the African American literary website Chickenbones. He will soon publish The Best of Chickenbones, and it is one of the best sites for African American literature on the internet. The best source for up-to-date writings by Marvin X, up-to-the-minute!
Ishamel Reed is a poet, novelist, essayist, playwright, editor and publisher. He has taught at Harvard, Yale, and Dartmouth, and for twenty years has been a lecturer at the University of California Berkeley. He is a supporter of Marvin X's many projects.
Lil Joe is Los Angeles community activist and revolutionary theoretician. He was among group of students who supported Marvin X when he fought to teach at Fresno State University but was removed by then Gov. Ronald Reagan, 1969. He was a member of the Black Panther Party.
Pam Pam is a community activist in San Francisco's dangerous Sunnydale district. She also produced, filmed and co-directed a film on Marvin X, Git Yo Mind Rite. She has a weekly program on San Francisco's KPOO radio.
Terry Collins, nephew of Malcolm X through his sister Ella Collins, is one of the founders and directors of KPOO radio. Terry was one of the revolutionary students at San Francisco State University, along with his roommate Danny Glover and fellow student Marvin X.
Dr. Julius E. Thompson's essay appeared in African American Review. He is a professor of African American Studies.
Reginald Major is author of The Panther Is A Black Cat, a study of the Black Panther Party. He writes for Pacifica News Service.
Dingane (Joe Goncalves) is founder and publisher of the 60s bible of poetry, the Journal of Black Poetry.
Dennis Leroy Moore is a filmmaker, As An Act of Protest.
Junious Ricardo Stanton is a journalist who writes for newspapers nationwide, especially online journals such as The Black World Today.
Brecht Forum is a New York center for radical culture.
This work is scheduled for publication sometime next year. For more information write to Marvin X @ University of Poetry/Black Bird Press, 11132 Nelson Bar Road, Cherokee CA 95965. Email mrvnx@yahoo.com. 510-472-9589.
Writers are welcome to submit a critical essay on the writings of Marvin X for consideration.
From BLACK BIRD PRESS
Marvin X:
A Critical Look At the Father
Muslim American Literature
Edited by Nefertiti El Muhajir
Preface
by
Dr. Mohja Kahf
Marvin X: First Muslim American Poet
Have spent the last few days (when not mourning with friends and family the passing of my family friend and mentor in Muslim feminism and Islamic work, Sharifa AlKhateeb, (may she dwell in Rahma), immersed in the work of Marvin X and amazed at his brilliance. This poet has been prolific since his first book of poems, Fly to Allah, (1965), right up to his most recent Love and War Poems (1995) and Land of My Daughters, 2005, not to mention his plays, which were produced (without royalties) in Black community theatres from the 1960s to the present, and essay collections such as In the Crazy House Called America, 2002, and Wish I Could Tell You The Truth, 2005.
Marvin X was a prime shaper of the Black Arts Movement (1964-1970s) which is, among other things, the birthplace of modern Muslim American literature, and it begins with him. Well, Malik Shabazz and him. But while the Autobiography of Malcolm X is a touchstone of Muslim American culture, Marvin X and other Muslims in BAM were the emergence of a cultural expression of Black Power and Muslim thought inspired by Malcolm, who was, of course, ignited by the teachings and writings of the Honorable Elijah Muhammad. And that, taken all together, is what I see as the starting point of Muslim American literature. Then there are others, immigrant Muslims and white American Muslims and so forth, that follow.
There are also antecedents, such as the letters of Africans enslaved in America. Maybe there is writing by Muslims in the Spanish and Portuguese era or earlier, but that requires archival research of a sort I am not going to be able to do. My interest is contemporary literature, and by literature I am more interested in poetry and fiction than memoir and non-fiction, although that is a flexible thing.
I argue that it is time to call Muslim American literature a field, even though many of these writings can be and have been classified in other ways--studied under African American literature or to take the writings of immigrant Muslims, studied under South Asian ethnic literature or Arab American literature. With respect to Marvin X, I wonder why I am just now hearing about him-I read Malcolm when I was 12, I read Amiri Baraka and Sonia Sanchez and others from the BAM in college and graduate school-why is attention not given to his work in the same places I encountered these other authors? Declaring Muslim American literature as a field of study is valuable because recontextualizing it will add another layer of attention to his incredibly rich body of work.
He deserves to be WAY better known than he is among Muslim Americans and generally, in the world of writing and the world at large. By we who are younger Muslim American poets, in particular, Marvin should be honored as our elder, one who is still kickin, still true to the word!
Love and War Poems is wrenching and powerful, combining a powerful critique of America ("America downsizes like a cripple whore/won't retire/too greedy to sleep/too fat to rest") but also a critique of deadbeat dads and drug addicts (not sparing himself) and men who hate. "For the Men" is so Quranic poem it gave me chills with verses such as:
for the men who honor wives
and the men who abuse them
for the men who win
and the men who sin
for the men who love God
and the men who hate
for the men who are brothers
and the men who are beasts
"O Men, listen to the wise," the poet pleads:
there is no escape
for the men of this world
or the men of the next
He is sexist as all get out, in the way that is common for men of his generation and his radicalism, but he is refreshingly aware of that and working on it. It's just that the work isn't done and if that offends you to see a man in process and still using the 'b' word, look out. Speaking of the easily offended, he warns in his introduction that "life is often profane and obscene, such as the present condition of African American people." If you want pure and holy, he says, read the Quran and the Bible, because Marvin is talking about "the low down dirty truth." For all that, the poetry of Marvin X is like prayer, beauty-full of reverence and honor for Truth. "It is. it is. it is."
A poem to his daughter Muhammida is a sweet mix of parental love and pride and fatherly freak-out at her sexuality and independence, ending humbly with:
peace Mu
it's on you
yo world
sister-girl
Other people don't get off so easy, including a certain "black joint chief of staff ass nigguh (kill 200,000 Muslims in Iraq)" in the sharply aimed poem "Free Me from My Freedom." (Mmm hmm, the 'n' word is all over the place in Marvin too.) Nature poem, wedding poem, depression poem, wake-up call poems, it's all here. Haiti, Rwanda, the Million Man March, Betsy Ross's maid, OJ, Rabin, Mumia Abu-Jamal, and other topics make it into this prophetically voiced collection of dissent poetry, so Islamic and so African American in its language and its themes, a book that will stand in its beauty long after the people mentioned in it pass. READ MARVIN X for RAMADAN!
Mohja Kahf
Associate Professor
Dept. of English & Middle East & Islamic Studies
University of Arkansas-Fayetteville
Introduction
Bismillah-r-Rahman-r-Rahim
If it is true that I am the father of modern Islamic literature in America, as Dr. Mohja Kahf proclaims, I would like to delineate my lineage. As a spiritual descendant of West African Muslims, I begin my literary biography in the Mali Empire, among those scholar/poet/social activists of Timbuktu: Ahmed Baba, Muhammad El-Mrili, Ahmed Ibn Said, Muhammad Al Wangari, and the later Sufi poet/warriors of Senegal and Hausaland, Ahmedu Bamba and Uthman dan Fodio.
In America, this literary tradition continued under the wretched conditions of slavery with the English/Arabic narratives of Ayub Suleimon Diallo, Ibrahima Abdulrahman Jallo, Bilali Mohammad, Salih Bilali, Umar Ibn Said and others who told how they got ovah, how they survived the worst terrorist regime in the history of mankind. Their narratives are thus the origin of Muslim literature in America, an integral part of the beginning of American and African American literature in general. There is some suspicion that David Walker, Frederick Douglas, Booker T. Washington and Benjamin Baneker may have also been descendants of Muslims. Certainly they share the Islamic spirit of creative resistance (any means necessary), and we must acknowledge this spirit in the Islamic and Pan African writings of Edward Wilmot Blyden, the greatest African intellectual of the late 19th century. See his Islam, Christianity and the Negro Race, 1887. While Marcus Garvey was in London,1912, being taught One God, One Aim, One Destiny, African For the Africans, Those At Home and Those Abroad, by his Egyptian Muslim mentor Duse Muhammad Ali, Noble Drew Ali,1913, established his Moorish Science Temple in Newark, New Jersey, later Chicago, and created his Seven Circle Koran, a synthesis of Qur'anic, Masonic, mystical and esoteric writings. And most importantly, Master Fard Muhammad arrived in Detroit, 1930, to deliver his Supreme Wisdom, mythological Sufi teachings, to the Honorable Elijah Muhammad, later summarized in Elijah's primers of mystical Islamic theology and black nationalism, Message To The Black Man and The Theology of Time.
The next major work is Malcolm X's Autobiography, with the assistance of Alex Haley. This neo-slave narrative bridged ancient and modern Islamic literature in America. Let us also include Louis Farakhan's off Broadway drama Organa and his classic song A White Man's Heaven is The Black Man's Hell, anthem of the Black revolution of the 60s. Amiri Baraka utilized the Muslim myth of Yacub in his play A Black Mass, one of his most powerful works, an examination of the cloning of the white man, not such a fantastic idea today since the white man has begun cloning himself. Askia Muhammad Toure must be credited for his Islamic writings, along with poetess Sonia Sanchez (Laila Mannan) who served a brief tenure in the Nation of Islam. Yusef Rahman and Yusef Iman created powerful Islamic poetry as well.
Now we may safely proceed into an examination of "Marvin's World." Enter at your own risk.
The following articles, essays, reviews and interviews give a good summary of opinion about the writer known as Marvin X, aka El Muhajir, Nazzam Al Fitnah, Maalik El Muhajir, Marvin Ellis Jackmon.
As-Salaam-Alaikum
El Muhajir (Marvin X)
5/19/05
Dedication
My life and my death are all for Allah. I believe in the teachings of the Most Honorable Elijah Muhammad. I believe in the teachings of Jelaluddin Balkhi, better known as Rumi. I believe in the teachings of Bawa Muhaiyaddeen. Gain a knowledge of my teachers and you will understand me. If you reject my teachers, there is no need for you to proceed further.
Chapter One: A Literary Biography
Lorenzo Thomas, Close Up and Personal
Michael E. Idland, A Voice That Must Be Heard
Lee Hubbard, Unplugged
Chapter Two: Autobiography, Somethin Proper, 1998
Dr. Nathan Hare, introduction to Somethin Proper
Dr. Julius E. Thompson, A Most Significant Work
Fahizah Alim, A Proper Response
James G. Spady, Making An Inventory and Constructing Self
Reginal Major, Trampling His Soul
Dingane (Joe Goncalves), Journey of A Restless Mind
Chapter Three: Drama, 1965--
Michael E. Idland, Major Works and Themes
Steven Winn, 'Day' A Searing Account of Addiction
Dr. Nathan Hare, Letter to Marvin X
Dennis Leroy Moore, Parable of the Man Who Was Crucified
Lil Joe, Sexual Repression in Sergeant Santa
Chapter Four: Essays, In the Crazy House Called America, 2002
James W. Sweeney, foreword
Suzzette Celeste, MSW, MPA, introduction
Dr. Nathan Hare, In the Crazy House of the Negro
Dr. Nathan Hare, Letter to Marvin X
Junious Ricardo Stanton, A Healing Peek Into His Psyche
La Vonda R. Staples and Brenda A. Sutton, A Yoruba Chief Holds Court
Lil Joe, Like Malcolm X, Marvin X Is A Revolutionary Muslim
John Woodford, Bittersweet Fruits of Wisdom
Aeeshah and Kokomon Clottey, The Quality of Heart
Brecht Forum, Existential Musing
Chapter Five: Poetry, Land of My Daughters, 2005
Rudolph Lewis, Using the Past Rather Than Glorifying
Ishmael Reed, Overcoming With Faith and Will
Chapter Six: Essays, Wish I Could Tell You The Truth, 2005
Rudolph Lewis, Discourse by Exaggeration and Humor
Lil Joe, The Evolution of Consciousness
Dr. Nathan Hare, He's Really That Good
Pam Pam, Wish I, interview
Terry Collins, Wish I, interview
Conclusion:
BIBLIOGRAPHY
BOOKS:
Sudan Rajuli Samia (Fresno: Al Kitab Sudan Publishing, 1967)
Black Dialectics (Fresno: Al Kitab Sudan, 1967)
Fly To Allah: Poems (Fresno: Al Kitab Sudan, 1969)
Son of Man: Proverbs (Fresno: Al Kitab Sudan, 1969)
Black Man Listen: Poems and Proverbs (Detroit: Broadside Press, 1969)
Woman-Man's Best Friend (San Francisco: Al Kitab Sudan, 1973)
Selected Poems (San Francisco: Al Kitab Sudan, 1979)
Confession of A Wife Beater and Other Poems (Fresno: Al Kitab Sudan, 1981)
Liberation Poems for North American Africans (Fresno: Al Kitab Sudan, 1982)
Love and War: Poems ( Castro Valley: Black Bird Press, 1995)
Somethin Proper: Autobiography (Castro Valley: Black Bird Press, 1998)
In The Crazy House Called America: Essays (Castro Valley: Black Bird Press, 2002)
Wish I Could Tell You The Truth: Essays (Cherokee: Black Bird Press, 2005)
Land of My Daughters: Poems (Cherokee: Black Bird Press, 2005)
Beyond Religion, toward Spirituality, essays on consciousness, 2007
Works In Progress:
Mama Said, autobiographical novel, Black Bird Press, 2008
Up From Ignorance: Essays (Cherokee: Black Bird Press, 2008)
Sweet Tea and Dirty Rice, Collected Poems(Cherokee: Black Bird Press, 2008)
In Sha Allah, A History of Black Muslims in the San Francisco Bay Area, 1954-2004.
Seven Years in the House of Elijah, A Woman's Search for Love and Spirituality by Nisa Islam as told to Marvin X.
PLAY SCRIPTS AND/OR PRODUCTIONS
Flowers for the Trashman, San Francisco: San Francisco State University Drama Department, 1965.
Flowers for the Trashman, San Francisco: Black Arts West/Theatre, 1966.
Take Care of Business, musical version of Flowers with music by Sun Ra, choreography by Raymond Sawyer and Ellendar Barnes: Your Black Educational Theatre, San Francisco, 1972.
Come Next Summer, San Francisco Black Arts/West, 1966.
The Trial, New York, Afro-American Studio for Acting and Speech, 1970.
Resurrection of the Dead, San Francisco, choreography by Raymond Sawyer, music by Juju and Sun Ra, Your Black Educational Theatre, 1972.
Woman-Man's Best Friend, musical, Oakland, Mills College, 1973.
How I Met Isa, Masters thesis, San Francisco State University, 1975.
In The Name of Love, Oakland, Laney College Theatre, 1981.
One Day In The Life, Oakland, Alice Arts Theatre, 1996.
One Day In The Life, Brooklyn, NY, Sistah's Place, 1997.
One Day In The Life, Manhattan, Brecht Forum, 1997.
One Day In The Life, Newark, NJ, Kimako's Blues, 1997.
One Day In The Life, Oakland, Uhuru House, 1998.
One Day In The Life, San Francisco, Bannam Place Theatre, North Beach, 1998.
One Day In The Life, San Francisco, Lorraine Hansberry Theatre, 1999.
One Day In the Life, Berkeley, Black Repertory Group Theatre, 1999.
One Day In the Life, Marin City, Marin City Rec Center, 1999
One Day In the Life, Richmond, Unity Church, 2000.
One Day In the Life, San Jose, San Jose State University, 2000.
One Day In the Life, Berkeley, Berkeley Repertory Theatre, 2000.
One Day In the Life, Sacramento, New Colonial Theatre, 2000.
Sergeant Santa, San Francisco, Recovery Theatre script, 2002.
OTHER:
Delicate Child, a short story, Oakland, Merritt College Student Magazine contest winner, 1963.
Delicate Child, a short story, Oakland, SoulBook Magazine, 1964.
Flowers for the Trashman: A One Act Drama, San Francisco, Black Dialogue Magazine, 1965.
Flowers for the Trashman, Black Fire, An Anthology of Afro-American Writing, edited by Amiri Baraka and Larry Neal, (New York: Morrow, 1968).
Take Care of Business: A One Act Drama, aka Flowers, (New York: The Drama Review, NYU,1968)
The Black Bird (Al Tair Aswad): A One-Act Play, New Plays from the Black Theatre, edited by Ed Bullins with introduction (interview of Ed Bullins) by Marivn X, (New York: Bantam, 1969)
"Islam and Black Art: An Interview with Amiri Baraka" and foreword by Askia Muhammad Toure, afterword by Marivn X, in Black Arts: An Anthology of Black Creations, edited by Ahmed Alhamisi and Haroun Kofi Wangara (Harold G. Lawrence) (Detroit: Black Arts Publications, 1969).
"Everything's Cool: An Interview with Amiri Barka, aka, LeRoi Jones", Black Theatre Magazine, New Lafayette Theatre, Harlem, NY, 1968.
Resurrection of the Dead, a ritual/myth dance drama, Black Theatre Magazine, New Lafayette Theatre, Harlem, 1969.
Manifesto of the Black Educational Theatre of San Francisco, Black Theatre, 1972.
The Black Bird, A Parable by Marvin X, illustrated by Karen Johnson ( San Francisco: Al Kitab Sudan and Julian Richardson and Associates Publishers, 1972).
"Black Justice Must Be Done," Vietnam and Black America: An Anthology of Protest and Resistance, edited by Clyde Taylor (Garden City: Double-day/Anchor, 1973)
"Palestine," a poem, Black Scholar magazine, 1978.
Journal of Black Poetry, guest editor, 1968.
"The Meaning of African Liberation Day," by Dr. Walter Rodney, a speech in San Francisco, transcribed and edited by Marvin X, Journal of Black Poetry, 1972.
Muhammad Speaks, foreign editor, 1970.
A Conversation with Prime Minister Forbes Burnham of Guyana, Black Scholar, 1973.
VIDEOGRAPHY
Proceedings of the Melvin Black Human Rights Conference, Oakland, 1979, featuring Angela Davis, Minister Farakhan, Eldridge Cleaver, Paul Cobb, Dezzie Woods-Jones, Jo Nina-Abran, Mansha Nitoto, Khalid Abdullah Tarik Al Mansur, Dr. Yusef Bey, Dr. Oba T-Shaka, and Marvin X.
Proceedings of the First Black Men's Conference, Oakland, 1980, John Douimbia, founder, Marvin X, chief planner, Dr. Nathan Hare, Dr. Wade Nobles, Dr. Yusef Bey, Dr. Oba T'Shaka, Dezzie Woods-Jones, et al.
Forum on Drugs, Art and Revolution, Sista's Place, Brooklyn, New York, 1997, featuring Amiri and Amina Baraka, Sonia Sanchez, Sam Anderson, Elombe Brath and Marvin X.
Eldridge Cleaver Memorial Service, produced by Marvin X, Oakland, 1998, participants included Kathleen and Joju Cleaver, Emory Douglas, Dr. Yusef Bey, Minister Keith Muhammad, Imam Al Amin, Dr. Nathan Hare, Tarika Lewis, Richard Aoki, Reginald Major, Majidah Rahman and Marvin X.
One Day in the Life, a docudrama of addiction and recovery, filmed by Ptah Allah-El, produced, written, directed and staring Marvin X, edited by Marvin X, San Francisco: Recovery Theatre, 1999.
Marvin X Interviews Bobby Seale, co-founder of the Black Panther Party, former actor in Marvin X's Black Theatre: Berkeley, La Pena Cultural Center, 1999.
Marvin X at Dead Prez Concert, San Francisco, 2000.
Kings and Queens of Black Consciousness, produced by Marvin X at San Francisco State University, 2001, featuring Dr. Cornel West, Amiri Baraka, Amina Baraka, Julia Hare, Dr. Nathan Hare, Rev. Cecil Williams, Destiny, Phavia, Tarika Lewis, Askia Toure, Kalamu Ya Salaam, Ishmael Reed, Dr. Theophile Obenga, Marvin X, et al.
Live In Philly At Warm Daddies, a reading accompanied by Elliot Bey, Marshall Allen, Danny Thompson, Ancestor Goldsky, Rufus Harley, Alexander El, 2002.
Marvin X Live in Detroit, a documentary by Abu Ibn, 2002.
In the Crazy House Called America, San Francisco: Buriel Clay Theatre, 2003.
Marvin X and Amiri Baraka, Berkeley: Black Repertory Group Theatre, 2003.
Marvin X Speaks at the Third Eye Conference, Dallas, Texas, 2003.
Marvin X and the Last Poets, San Francisco: Recovery Theatre, 2004.
Proceedings of the San Francisco Black Radical Book Fair, produced by Marvin X, San Francisco, Recovery Theatre, 2004, participants include: Sonia Sanchez, Davey D, Amiri Baraka, Sam Hamod, Fillmore Slim, Askia Toure, Akhbar Muhammad, Al Young, Devorah Major, Opal Palmer Adisa, Tarika Lewis, Amina Baraka, Julia and Nathan Hare, Charlie Walker, Jamie Walker, Reginald Lockett, Everett Hoagland, Sam Greenlee, Ayodelle Nzinga, Elliot Bey, Ptah Allah-El, Kalamu Ya Salaam, Marvin X, et al.
Get Yo Mind Right, Marvin X Barbershop Talks, Oakland: 2005.
Marvin X Live in the Fillmore at Rass'elas Jazz Club, San Francisco, 2005.
The Contributors
Mohja Kahf, professor of English and Islamic Literature, University of Arkansas. Her essay is revised (by ed.) from an earlier version that appeared online at Muslim Wake Up.Com. She is the senior editor of the forthcoming anthology Muslim American Literature, University of Arkansas Press. Marvin X is a co-editor. Her recent collection of poetry is E-Mails from Scheherazad, University Press of Florida.
Lorenzo Thomas, professor of English at the University of Houston, Texas, and author of Extraordinary Measures: Afrocentric Modernism and Twentieth-Century American Poetry, University of Alabama Press, 2000.
Michael Idland's essay is from African American Dramatists: A Bio-Bibliographical Critical Sourcebook, Greenwood Publishing Group, 2004.
Lee Hubbard is a Bay Area journalist, this interview appeared in the San Francisco Bayview newspaper.
Dr. Nathan Hare, sociologist/psychologist, is the father of black studies in America. He and his wife, Julia, are close associates, comrades and advisors to Marvin X. He is author of the classic sociological study The Black Anglo-Saxons. With wife Julia, he is co-author of The Endangered Black Family and The Miseducation of the Black Child.
Fahizah Alim writes for the Sacramento Bee newspaper. Marvin X is her mentor. Her critical comments on Islam and male/female relations have been a source of inspiration to the poet.
La Vonda R. Staples is an online personality for newblackcity.com and creator of "Literally Speaking," an internet live book club.
Brenda A. Sutton is the co-founder of Afrikan Consciousness Center group and information director for Afrikan American award winning author, Tina McElroy Ansa. La Vonda and Brenda are also co-authors of "An Incident in Mayville," unpublished.
James G. Spady's essay appeared in the Philadelphia New Observer. He is recipient of the American Book Award and the National Newspaper Association's Meritorious Award. His works have appeared in newspapers, magazines, scholarly journals such as African Studies Review, International Journal of African Studies, College Language Association Journal, Black Scholar, Presence Africaine, Journal of African Civilizations and elsewhere.
Steven Winn is drama critic for the San Francisco Chronicle.
John Woodford is former editor of Muhammad Speaks. He is currently editor of Michigan Today at the University of Michigan.
Suzzette Celeste, MSW, MPA is a social worker and spiritual practitioner at the East Bay Church of Religious Science. She also teaches counseling at Oakland's Merritt College.
James W. Sweeney is former director of the Oakland Support Center, an outpatient center for the homeless and dual diagnosed. He is a former Berkeley City Councilman.
Aeesha and Kokoman Clotty are directors of Attitudinal Healing Center in Oakland and co-authors of Racial Healing.
Rudolph Lewis manages the African American literary website Chickenbones. He will soon publish The Best of Chickenbones, and it is one of the best sites for African American literature on the internet. The best source for up-to-date writings by Marvin X, up-to-the-minute!
Ishamel Reed is a poet, novelist, essayist, playwright, editor and publisher. He has taught at Harvard, Yale, and Dartmouth, and for twenty years has been a lecturer at the University of California Berkeley. He is a supporter of Marvin X's many projects.
Lil Joe is Los Angeles community activist and revolutionary theoretician. He was among group of students who supported Marvin X when he fought to teach at Fresno State University but was removed by then Gov. Ronald Reagan, 1969. He was a member of the Black Panther Party.
Pam Pam is a community activist in San Francisco's dangerous Sunnydale district. She also produced, filmed and co-directed a film on Marvin X, Git Yo Mind Rite. She has a weekly program on San Francisco's KPOO radio.
Terry Collins, nephew of Malcolm X through his sister Ella Collins, is one of the founders and directors of KPOO radio. Terry was one of the revolutionary students at San Francisco State University, along with his roommate Danny Glover and fellow student Marvin X.
Dr. Julius E. Thompson's essay appeared in African American Review. He is a professor of African American Studies.
Reginald Major is author of The Panther Is A Black Cat, a study of the Black Panther Party. He writes for Pacifica News Service.
Dingane (Joe Goncalves) is founder and publisher of the 60s bible of poetry, the Journal of Black Poetry.
Dennis Leroy Moore is a filmmaker, As An Act of Protest.
Junious Ricardo Stanton is a journalist who writes for newspapers nationwide, especially online journals such as The Black World Today.
Brecht Forum is a New York center for radical culture.
This work is scheduled for publication sometime next year. For more information write to Marvin X @ University of Poetry/Black Bird Press, 11132 Nelson Bar Road, Cherokee CA 95965. Email mrvnx@yahoo.com. 510-472-9589.
Writers are welcome to submit a critical essay on the writings of Marvin X for consideration.
We're In Love But You Don't Know Me
We're In Love, But You Don't Know Me
By Marvin X
You don't know me
you had a chance to know me
before we made love
you had a chance to know my mind
understand my fears
learn about issues
help me heal some things
but you wanted to make love
so you don't know me
we made love
but you don't know me
don't have a clue
think I'm a good dick
or some good tight pussy
but you don't know me
and never will now
because you wanted to make love
you wanted to get a nut
we didn't even talk much
a little bit leading up to sex
I went along
I was horny too
but you don't know me
and I don't know you
now we never will
we blew it forever
because we made love
too fast too quick too soon
now you think you own me
I can't breathe
can't talk on the phone to friends
because we made love
because I gave you some dick
you gave me some pussy
now I'm no longer human
I'm your love slave you my slave
we're in love
but you don't know me
we gonna get married
but you don't know me
we're gonna have children
but you don't know me
you're gonna beat my ass
but you don't know me
you're going to jail
but you don't know me
we're getting a divorce
but you don't know me
now we're friends
"Just Friends" Charlie Parker tune
But you don't know me
and never will.
By Marvin X
You don't know me
you had a chance to know me
before we made love
you had a chance to know my mind
understand my fears
learn about issues
help me heal some things
but you wanted to make love
so you don't know me
we made love
but you don't know me
don't have a clue
think I'm a good dick
or some good tight pussy
but you don't know me
and never will now
because you wanted to make love
you wanted to get a nut
we didn't even talk much
a little bit leading up to sex
I went along
I was horny too
but you don't know me
and I don't know you
now we never will
we blew it forever
because we made love
too fast too quick too soon
now you think you own me
I can't breathe
can't talk on the phone to friends
because we made love
because I gave you some dick
you gave me some pussy
now I'm no longer human
I'm your love slave you my slave
we're in love
but you don't know me
we gonna get married
but you don't know me
we're gonna have children
but you don't know me
you're gonna beat my ass
but you don't know me
you're going to jail
but you don't know me
we're getting a divorce
but you don't know me
now we're friends
"Just Friends" Charlie Parker tune
But you don't know me
and never will.
When Jazz Ain't Jazz
When Jazz Ain't Jazz
By Marvin X
I recently attended the UC Berkeley Jazz Festival at the Greek Theatre. The audience was full of Black people, thus you know it wasn't a jazz festival. In the Bay Area, jazz festivals and venues such as Yoshi's are usually full of white people so if the Greek Theatre was full of Blacks, you know it wasn't jazz, maybe cool jazz or smooth jazz or fusion jazz, or Latin jazz but not jazz, not real jazz or more properly Black classical music, the most conscious music of the Black nation in the wilderness of North America.
Chaka Khan, KEM, Will Downing, Gorge Duke, Stanley Clarke are all great musicians and they performed great music, but I wouldn't call it jazz, not the jazz I know, like Sun Ra, Pharaoh Saunders, Coltrane, Miles Davis, Chicago Art Ensemble. George and Stanley did perform one number on acoustic bass and piano, “Autumn Leaves,” that was truly jazz, but most of the jazz festival music must be considered soul, neo-soul, blues, whatever, but not jazz.
Although I love all Black music, I wouldn't have paid $55.00 to sit on the grass to hear what I heard, except it gave me the opportunity to spend time with my lady friend, away from the computer, away from concern about the state of the Black nation. Still, I was/am concerned about the state of black art, especially black Music. During the years I was a dope addict, music was absent from my life, even though before dope music was an essential part of my being, including performing with Sun Ra for many years, coast to coast.
And even now I prefer reading poetry with Bay Area musicians such as harpist Destiny, violinist Tarika Lewis, djembe master Tacuma King, and more recently keyboard master Elliott Bey. While in Philly, I recorded a DVD with the remaining members of Sun Ra's Arkestra, Danny Thompson, Noel, and Marshall Allen, also Rufus Harley (I understand he made his transition a few days ago, peace be upon him), and Elliott Bey. So I can't take Miller Lite jazz. I got to have it full strength, pure, unadulterated.
Thus, I left the Greek Theatre disappointed, since it was a long concert with long set changes and cold weather as the fog descended on the Bay. Chaka Khan was just getting started as I was leaving along with quite a few other concert goers.
This past Sunday, I got to hear and perform with some real jazz musicians. Brother Ghasem, a longtime Bay Area fixture had come into town from Europe and performed at Anna's in Berkeley. When the set began, my woman friend said, "I see what you mean, now this is jazz." Indeed it was what I was accustomed to appreciating as jazz. All the local musicians were present, including E.W. Wainwright, Brother Khalil Shaheed, and Destiny on harp. There were poets Reginald Lockett and myself, and dancers Deborah Vaughn and Anisa in the audience. Also painter Arthur Monroe.
Ghasem, overcome with emotion, kept noting from the mike, "This is a family affair." Indeed it was since it began with a naming ceremony for his new daughter.
Ghasem is certainly one of the best musicians out of the Bay Area, on the level with Bobby Hutcherson, Dewey and Josh Redman, bassists Rafael Garrett, James Leary; drummers Bill Sommers, Babatunde Lea, Butch Haynes, Yancey Taylor on vibes, and so many others.
Ghasem invited me to read during the poetry portal. I decided to read “What If.” It was the best reading of the poem to date as members of the audience noted. One person said they heard me at the Malcolm X Jazz Festival, but this was much better. I agreed. I simply floated on the bed of music behind me, like I was on a magic carpet. I kept hearing Ghasem and Destiny doing a call and response with me, "No God but God, No God but God, No God But God." This was jazz, or shall we call it jazzoetry. Reginald Lockett followed me with a poem on the theme of healing. Reginald has been with the Black Arts Movement since the 1967 Black House that Eldridge Cleaver, Ed Bullins and I founded.
My friend noted that if Blacks heard this real jazz they would appreciate it. Somehow we must get it to them. Don't expect to hear it on the radio, certainly not on the station that sponsored the Berkeley Jazz Fest, KBLX. And even the so called jazz stations don't play real jazz, as if they are afraid of the music. I must agree real jazz is powerful, it can make you do the holy dance, it can change minds and spirits, for it is healing music, just what the doctor ordered.
Recently a young poet viewed a music video of John Coltrane. The young hip hop poet got the holy ghost after hearing Coltrane for the first time, and Eric Dolphy as well. The poet said the hip hop generation should be allowed to hear rap until 10PM. After 10PM only jazz should be heard in the hood. Can you imagine the revolution in consciousness? Maybe one day jazz will be jazz again, not cool jazz, smooth jazz, fusion jazz but real jazz, Duke, Basie, Billy, Ella, Parker, Miles, Coltrane, Saunders, Philly Joe, Max, Shepp, the real deal holyfield. Lord, let us pray for jazz.
* * * * *
By Marvin X
I recently attended the UC Berkeley Jazz Festival at the Greek Theatre. The audience was full of Black people, thus you know it wasn't a jazz festival. In the Bay Area, jazz festivals and venues such as Yoshi's are usually full of white people so if the Greek Theatre was full of Blacks, you know it wasn't jazz, maybe cool jazz or smooth jazz or fusion jazz, or Latin jazz but not jazz, not real jazz or more properly Black classical music, the most conscious music of the Black nation in the wilderness of North America.
Chaka Khan, KEM, Will Downing, Gorge Duke, Stanley Clarke are all great musicians and they performed great music, but I wouldn't call it jazz, not the jazz I know, like Sun Ra, Pharaoh Saunders, Coltrane, Miles Davis, Chicago Art Ensemble. George and Stanley did perform one number on acoustic bass and piano, “Autumn Leaves,” that was truly jazz, but most of the jazz festival music must be considered soul, neo-soul, blues, whatever, but not jazz.
Although I love all Black music, I wouldn't have paid $55.00 to sit on the grass to hear what I heard, except it gave me the opportunity to spend time with my lady friend, away from the computer, away from concern about the state of the Black nation. Still, I was/am concerned about the state of black art, especially black Music. During the years I was a dope addict, music was absent from my life, even though before dope music was an essential part of my being, including performing with Sun Ra for many years, coast to coast.
And even now I prefer reading poetry with Bay Area musicians such as harpist Destiny, violinist Tarika Lewis, djembe master Tacuma King, and more recently keyboard master Elliott Bey. While in Philly, I recorded a DVD with the remaining members of Sun Ra's Arkestra, Danny Thompson, Noel, and Marshall Allen, also Rufus Harley (I understand he made his transition a few days ago, peace be upon him), and Elliott Bey. So I can't take Miller Lite jazz. I got to have it full strength, pure, unadulterated.
Thus, I left the Greek Theatre disappointed, since it was a long concert with long set changes and cold weather as the fog descended on the Bay. Chaka Khan was just getting started as I was leaving along with quite a few other concert goers.
This past Sunday, I got to hear and perform with some real jazz musicians. Brother Ghasem, a longtime Bay Area fixture had come into town from Europe and performed at Anna's in Berkeley. When the set began, my woman friend said, "I see what you mean, now this is jazz." Indeed it was what I was accustomed to appreciating as jazz. All the local musicians were present, including E.W. Wainwright, Brother Khalil Shaheed, and Destiny on harp. There were poets Reginald Lockett and myself, and dancers Deborah Vaughn and Anisa in the audience. Also painter Arthur Monroe.
Ghasem, overcome with emotion, kept noting from the mike, "This is a family affair." Indeed it was since it began with a naming ceremony for his new daughter.
Ghasem is certainly one of the best musicians out of the Bay Area, on the level with Bobby Hutcherson, Dewey and Josh Redman, bassists Rafael Garrett, James Leary; drummers Bill Sommers, Babatunde Lea, Butch Haynes, Yancey Taylor on vibes, and so many others.
Ghasem invited me to read during the poetry portal. I decided to read “What If.” It was the best reading of the poem to date as members of the audience noted. One person said they heard me at the Malcolm X Jazz Festival, but this was much better. I agreed. I simply floated on the bed of music behind me, like I was on a magic carpet. I kept hearing Ghasem and Destiny doing a call and response with me, "No God but God, No God but God, No God But God." This was jazz, or shall we call it jazzoetry. Reginald Lockett followed me with a poem on the theme of healing. Reginald has been with the Black Arts Movement since the 1967 Black House that Eldridge Cleaver, Ed Bullins and I founded.
My friend noted that if Blacks heard this real jazz they would appreciate it. Somehow we must get it to them. Don't expect to hear it on the radio, certainly not on the station that sponsored the Berkeley Jazz Fest, KBLX. And even the so called jazz stations don't play real jazz, as if they are afraid of the music. I must agree real jazz is powerful, it can make you do the holy dance, it can change minds and spirits, for it is healing music, just what the doctor ordered.
Recently a young poet viewed a music video of John Coltrane. The young hip hop poet got the holy ghost after hearing Coltrane for the first time, and Eric Dolphy as well. The poet said the hip hop generation should be allowed to hear rap until 10PM. After 10PM only jazz should be heard in the hood. Can you imagine the revolution in consciousness? Maybe one day jazz will be jazz again, not cool jazz, smooth jazz, fusion jazz but real jazz, Duke, Basie, Billy, Ella, Parker, Miles, Coltrane, Saunders, Philly Joe, Max, Shepp, the real deal holyfield. Lord, let us pray for jazz.
* * * * *
Manifesto of The University of Poetry
Manifesto of The University of Poetry
By Marvin X
Chancellor, University of Poetry,
A Project of the Black Arts Movement
The University of Poetry is a continuation of the Black Arts Movement, a performance/academic/activist project to inspire the Cultural Revolution in African America, with implications for the rest of humanity that apparently follows closely every cultural move of African Americans. We can't fart without the world copying our fart. So perhaps we should be flattered except for the fact that often imitation becomes exploitation and we become victims of our own creations, e.g., "Lord, look what they did to my song."
Nevertheless, we shall strive forward with our cultural revolution to transform the negative aspects of our lives into the positive, to reconnect our community, parents with children, males with females, brother to brother and sister to sister, yes, even enemies must reconcile in the spirit of recovery, healing and liberation of the entire community. This is the challenge of the new millennium and we shall not move forward without meeting it. Either we are brave warriors willing to face the jihad within ourselves and our community, or we're cowards prepared to tread water until we become extinct, a forgotten people, relics of a glorious past but no future except a multicultural chasm where we exist on the last rung of the ladder, simply because we refuse to transcend our differences for the greater good, thus succumbing to a low intensity war determined to destroy us politically, economically, morally and culturally.
University of Poetry: The Performance and Educational Arm of the Cultural Revolution
As Fidel Castro has said, our weapon is consciousness, yes, it is the only weapon we have that can defeat the forces allied against us. Consciousness is an awareness of our traditions and our mission. Our tradition is a freedom loving people, not political, economic and cultural slaves to others. We reject the slave tradition of clowning and buffoonery so evident in African American artistic expression, especially movies and rap (now called yap, for rap derived from the tradition of revolutionary spoken word: H. Rap Brown, Huey Newton, Bobby Seale, Last Poets, Baraka, Sonia, Askia, Haki, X, and yes, Malcolm, Martin, Kwame Toure, Fannie Lou, Queen Mother Moore, Angela). If one is not aspiring to be in the tradition of Paul Robeson, i.e., the artistic freedom fighter, then one has no right to claim membership in the Black Arts Movement, and is therefore merely a whore for capitalist pimps, ready to wear any clown suit, do any shuffle, say any jingle and rhyme, put on any make up and dance for the master's American bandstand, manifesting the cultural hate personified by the likes of Michael Jackson and others too numerous to mention.
No people with consciousness would allow themselves to be paraded on BET, MTV and elsewhere as naked whores, pseudo gangstas and wannabe pimps. Although we are about artistic freedom and freedom of speech, we reject phony black bourgeoisie culture police who are themselves guilty of a profane and obscene lifestyle of conspicuous consumption, yet we demand African American artists get in harmony with our tradition and mission to use our creativity to help liberate the deaf, dumb and blind, not take them deeper into the devil's den of iniquity.
University of Poetry Will Speak Truth to Power
The University of Poetry will perform works that liberate not desecrate. Rappers have given us graphic descriptions of our psychosocial condition, now we must come with solutions. If you hate yo daddy and mama, show me how you turned hate into love, show me how you sought reconciliation and unconditional love. Otherwise, you are simply yapping nursery rhymes, snibbling like snotty nose babies too pitiful to wake up and release your lips from your mother's breasts, you ungrateful bastards! Grow up, did mama tell you life was a bowl of cherries—you are lucky to have a mother and father—think of all the children who are products of foster care.
We were not brought to America to create families, but to be mules, donkeys and horses, and have our families utterly destroyed for capitalism and slavery. And we can only overcome America's plan for us by putting on the armour of God and standing tall together, defying America's hope for our continued subservience and debauchery.
Poets and spoken word artists have an obligation to speak truth to power, not submit gleefully, yapping nonsense around the world to make a dollar and make mockery of the elders, calling them "broke heroes," although the so-called broke heroes are the reason you are among the newly rich because of their sacrifice and unconditional love for your punk asses.
The American Educational System Is An Abysmal Failure
Since the American educational system has failed to teach Johnny and Johnnymae how to read, write and most of all, think, the University of Poetry shall see it as a priority to teach basic skills. How can we have a drama class in which students are unable to read the script. I have taught such classes on the college and university level, so I know the degree of the problem. Don't try to cover ignorance and mental retardation as a result of America's public school miseducation.
The University of Poetry will train students with talent in the arts: drama, dance, music, creative writing, nonfiction, poetry and spoken word, for these are serious crafts that take discipline and training, not a jack in the box game of jingles and rhymes produced because one can memorize words that are full of sound and fury signifying nothing, although audiences are enraptured by the nothingness and babble, rewarding the jester with money at poetry Slams/Scams, deluding the person that he/she is a poet and spoken word master because of his/her natural talent as a product of the ancient African oral tradition.
Racism 101
Racism is the abomination of the new world, but Elijah Muhammad used racism and black supremacy as an anti-toxin to white supremacy. The Black Arts Movement did the same. Whites were often banned from attending performances and certainly from performing in productions. Harold Cruse noted how this marked a radical departure from traditional Negro theatre (see Crisis of the Negro Intellectual). Thus BAM was of, for, and by Black people, if only for a moment, time enough to get “ourselves” together. This moment was necessary to raise a people from the dead, who were full of fear after being terrorized for centuries by white supremacy.
Why is this so difficult to understand, perhaps because there are those in denial about the ravages of white supremacy on African American minds, to say nothing about what it has done to delusional white minds. Why should victims of liars and murderers want them in our presence? How can we recover with them in our midst? Can the rape victim recover with the rapist in her bed?
Even today, American racism and capitalism/imperialism is the scorn of the earth, blood sucking the poor in the name of global free trade, caring nothing for the rights of poor nations to economic parity. You consume the world’s energy for the greedy privilege of driving SUVs and having a television in every room, left on 24/7. You have no intentions of dealing with the root causes of terrorism: poverty, ignorance, and disease. Until you do so, you will become a prisoner in your own land, afraid of those outside your borders and those within whom you’ve equally mistreated, abused and falsely accused of being criminals, unworthy to share in the fruits of their labor and that of their ancestors, while white descendants enjoy the surplus capital from centuries of slave labor.
Our primary concern was then and is now ourselves. You are dangerous to our health, mental, physical, and spiritual, unless you have radicalized your consciousness, or shall we say become blackenized, certainly all vestiges of white supremacy must be processed out of your consciousness. Those whites who have worked on themselves we welcome as allies, brothers and sisters in revolution.
It is not the nature of Africans or African Americans to hate and exclude. We can be nationalists and internationalists without hating and excluding. But we do have the human right to do for self as others do, whites, Latinos, Asians, gays, lesbians, and others of every race, sex and creed.
We must not be afraid to become economically self-sufficient. We were in better economic shape under segregation, yes, when we were Negroes, now we’re black and don’t have a decent restaurant or hotel in any American city.
We have thousands of religious houses where the people receive their dose of opium as a form of social control to delay the day of our liberation, where people are taught fairy tales and nursery rhymes about a sky god who died on the cross for our sins, sins? What have African Americans done but be loyal slaves, down to this present moment we are dying in Iraq defending liars and murderers.
Finally, racism is a component of capitalism. We cannot be capitalists because we have no capital! We hardly have one black bank in America. Where are our African American global markets? We might sell a few raps songs in Europe and Asia, but do we sell a blackmobile, trucks, socks, toilet paper, matches?
Black Studies and the University of Poetry
Although black studies derived from the efforts of black revolutionary students, with the demise of the liberation struggle, radical instructors and scholars were removed and replaced with academically "qualified" collaborators and trusted colonial servants, unconcerned with the original mission of black studies: to uplift the community. As a result, for every one brother going to college, four go to prison. For the most part, black studies is a sham, a place for tenured Negroes to keep a job for life unless they rock the boat by teaching radical ideas found to be politically incorrect by their academic masters.
Black Studies began in revolution, but has succumb to reaction and irrelevance with respect to providing a leadership role in uplifting the community. Where is a truly radical black studies department? Where in America is one black radical college or university?
Please don't mention the Negro colleges and universities, mainly outhouses for training house slaves who escape the hood into corporate America and never look back. Of course the white colleges and universities do the same. Isn't it interesting that Dr. Ben couldn't find a black academic institution to donate his thirty thousand volume library? He gave it to the Nation of Islam, which is very ironic in light of his history of anti-Islamic pronouncements.
As a consequence of the above, the University of Poetry must step to the front line of community education; it must become an institution for the training of radical scholars and social activists who will fulfill the original mission of black studies by attacking illiteracy, joblessness, economic empowerment, addictions, mental and physical health issues and spiritual poverty caused by excessive religiosity. Academic subjects will be considered for their relevance to life issues as we confront America's low intensity war on a daily basis.
Gender Studies and the University of Poetry
The Arabic word nisa has two meanings depending on syllable stress. One meaning is woman, another meaning is to forget. Long ago, Warith Din Muhammad gave a lecture on how men forget women. More recently, Amina Baraka exhorted me and her husband, Amiri, not to forget women, to respect them always, especially for their contribution to our liberation struggle: "Remember the women of history, remember Harriet Tubman, Sojourner Truth, Ida B. Wells, remember Fannie Lou Hamer, Rosa Parks, Queen Mother Moore, remember Ella Collins," Amina cried.
The University of Poetry must address problems in male/female relations since such problems directly impact healthy family and community development. Mrs. Baraka was addressing two poets, both having the artistic sensibility and insensitivity to become emotionally detached from women, children and men in our quest for creativity, thinking a poem is more important than the human being. (Of course Amiri Baraka is qualified to speak for himself, but since I know him, I'm taking the liberty to place him in the boat with me, other poets and artists in general.)
If men of intelligence can be so detached, imagine the behavior of men with lesser intelligence. Perhaps this is why the divorce courts and the anger management programs are full. Men just don't get it and some have no intention to "get it." It will take generations before the patriarchal mentality subsides, if then, although great strides have been made in male/female equality. Now we are in danger of women getting revenge after coming into power situations. They want to oppress. Go before a female judge with a domestic violence case.
But the socialization of males and females must be examined to explore better, healthier methods of interpersonal relations. How can women who love talking endlessly, communicate with men who will go silent when approached on critical matters? "Do you hear me, man," the woman says, "Then why don't you say something?" In the TS Eliot poem the women say, "That is not what I meant, that is not what I meant at all. . . ."
Male education must involve manhood rites that allow them to explore male psychology and female psychology, and the same for women. So often we come together not knowing a damn thing about each other, until it is too late, two or three children later, several ass whippings later.
Men must learn to understand and treat females as equal but different human beings. The idea is not to make men more feminine, but to understand their natural selves and gain a more precise understanding of the opposite sex. Mythologically speaking, understand the function of the sky god and the earth mother goddess. One is the protector, one the nurturer. Today the situation is such that the woman needs protection from the protector!
And the man feels his nurturer is somehow his enemy, the very person he sleeps with he is terrified of, and often the woman feels the same. What kind of horror story is this?
Moving from myth to nature, roosters will not become hens, bulls will not become cows, so stop trying to reverse nature, although it is urgent that we understand the nature of human psychology, understand different functions of each sex, responsibilities, desires, drives and dreams. Often men are indeed lost in the stars, while women are usually forced to stay grounded in reality. As Joseph Campbell explains, men must be taught they are approaching manhood. Women know they are approaching womanhood at the first cycle—they can see, feel, touch, smell womanhood, but men need a ritual: they must come out of the sky and go into the bush to be terrified into the reality of manhood.
Men must at least listen to the dreams of women, even if we reject their dreams, and women must do the same—ultimately a compromise can and must be found. It shall never be again, "Your way or no way," although men will attempt to maintain male privilege until the sky falls—look up, brother, the sky is falling!
And women, in their new found aggression and power positions, will push their agenda at every turn, forcing men to react violently, "Bitch, I don't want to hear nothing you got to say. Shut the fuck up." But she's not going to shut up and she ain't going away—you may leave her for another woman but strangely it will be the same woman with another name. A woman is a woman is a woman is a woman, stupid!
So before there can be unity, there must be understanding. The main thing is not to oppress each other, especially since we're both freshly out of slavery. Men often feel the double-edged sword of oppression from the black woman and the white man. And women feel the same sword blade from the white man and the black man. If we, males and females, would recognize we're not enemies but friends and lovers, sailing in the same love boat, we'll be at least halfway free!
When women are at the top of their game, they have the unique ability to get anything they want from men, sometimes with the glance of an eye, a stride, a smile, the tone of her voice can totally disarm a man. Call it feminine charm or whatever, but women have been successful throughout the ages. With her newfound power, do not forget her ancient secrets that worked for thousands of years, giving her the ability to be a helpmate to great men and tearing down great men when in rage and frustration.
Consider the Children
These twisted male/female relationships have profound implications for the children. When the male departs from the jungle to the forest, the child, especially the male child, is soon out of control, usually by age 15. He is in absolute rebellion against his mother's agenda, although her agenda is often bisexual because she is forced to don the persona of the female/male. The young man's hatred is directed at the female side of the mask, although he harbors a distinct hatred for his missing father as well. So consider his rage, just as his hormones are kicking in. Again, the need for manhood training. But even with females, there is a need and desire for father's love that she will search for in fatherless young men or dirty old men!
Likewise, with young males, the hatred is transferred to girlfriends whom they verbally and physically abuse. This hatred is expressed in the poetic language of rap songs. Healing such shattered young lives is the task of mental health specialists such as Dr. Nathan Hare's Black Reconstruction mental health group sessions that he is calling to be established across America. In the interim, hip hop youth use poetry, sometimes unconsciously, for peer counseling, and this is all good. The University of Poetry must address such stress and strains in the personality of males and females, urging them to use poetry as a healing tool in their lives, let poetry be a bridge for reconciliation rather than a vehicle to only express pain and rage between the sexes and the generations.
Poetically Gay
If we were against gay and lesbian poets, there would be little poetry to read, since the arts seem to be the home of many gay people. Imagine a world without Langston Hughes or James Baldwin, or Audre Lorde and June Jordan. So my attitude is what does sex have to do with being a poet—nothing! A poet must understand human sexuality in general. A poet stuck on being gay is not a poet, for what happens when he or she must put on the persona of a man or woman, or a tree for that matter. A poet must transcend all sexuality in order to understand the universal human spirit that is, yes, beyond a particular sexual orientation. Gays and lesbians might sometimes have a more sensitive spirit, but every poet, whether gay or straight, must have a sensitive spirit.
Did Baldwin write as a gay or as a writer of the human condition? After my 1968 interview with him, I remarked to Ed Bullins, “He talked like a man.” Ed said, “He damn sho did.” Alas, Baldwin wrote the script for Spike Lee’s film Malcolm X. If he had been trapped in his gayness, how could he have written a script about a hero who symbolized black manhood? When people questioned whether he was qualified to write the script because of his gayness, Baldwin said, “Hey, I pay my rent, I write what I want to write.”
In the video version of my play One Day In The Life, a gay actor portrays my son. If he had not transcended his gayness, he wouldn’t have been in my play. So he was in my play because he was a great actor. At the audition for my play in New York, a gay brother tried out for the part but couldn’t transcend his sexuality. My daughter was casting director, and when I told her to let the guy read the part again, she said, “No, Daddy, no. Let me handle this. He got to go!”
So we have no time to condemn people for their sexual orientation. We might thereby condemn the goose laying the golden egg. We could use another Baldwin or Langston right about now to help free us from this precipice.
But I say to those who passed legislation permitting sex between consenting adults, and in California one of them was then Assemblyman Willie L. Brown, if gays can be with gays and lesbians with lesbians, then men who love prostitutes should be allowed to be with their sex workers in peace, not sneaking around in the alley like a broke dick dog, arrested and cars seized. Yes, legalize prostitution. Lakum dinu kum waliya din: to you your way and to me mine.
Integrated Medicine
Sobriety for some people is possible, but not for all. Harm reduction is the model we favor, just don’t kill yourself, make an all out effort not to self destruct on drugs, if you insist on using them, try to maintain a level of functionality. Some people have been on dope for decades, working everyday and taking care of their families, they just happen to love dope and have no intention of giving it up.
Drugs should probably be legalized, especially when so many people are hooked on legal drugs. Look at the “high” and mighty Rush Limbaugh! And many people have absolutely no intention of ever giving up marijuana or even cocaine for that matter. Decriminalizing drugs would take great pressure off the legal and penal systems, especially if we treat drug abuse as a mental health issue.
We should consider the medicinal value of such drugs that have been used as such for centuries. In other words, certain illegal drugs should be integrated into the catalogue of therapeutic medicines. Some people are better off on certain drugs, even illegal drugs. They have better personalities on drugs than they do when clean and sober—they are clean and sober assholes, disgusting to be around. We should rush them their old drugs if it alters their wretched clean and sober personalities that are often fowl, evil, arrogant and abusive, the dry drunkards.
Yes, we know drugs were only the symptom, not the problem. They have issues in the deep structure of their minds that even drugs cannot remedy. Like an actor putting on makeup, they medicate themselves to face the world, sadly, the world can see underneath the makeup.
Poets and other artists are especially inclined to seek the euphoric state of mind induced by drugs, especially in the emptiness of their hotel suites after the applause is over, the last hurrah. We know the best high is the natural high, we know the body produces the chemicals to make us high, if we would only do the natural thing to release these chemicals. But like the common people, we go for the punk high, high on the cheap, although it can be very expensive, costing our very lives, affecting our families and friends in our selfishness and eagerness to self-destruct. The Ken Burns documentary on jazz artists was so tragic to see our great artists self destructing one after the other. As great as she was, we wonder how greater Billie Holiday would have been without drugs.
And Charlie Parker, Miles, Coltrane, et al.
Art requires a high state of discipline, so young artists, poets, must come to the conclusion that a clear mind is the best tool for success. If one must indulge, try harm reduction. This is what I do. I can do without drugs, but if I want to drink alcohol I do so. But I get high writing as I’m doing right now. I get high seeing my children, woman (when she acts right, whatever that means), visiting the mountains, rivers, creeks, oceans.
Nothing is all bad, even drugs, nor is anything all good, except God. So get with the Most High and stay high forever.
Poets and Mental Health
It is a truism that there is a thin line between creativity and insanity. Poets walk the razor’s edge of being in this world and hearing voices from another world, the world of creation, myth making, and word magic. My first Arabic name was Nazzam, organizer or systematizer, which is what poets do, create a system of myth with their body of work.
Often we are amazed at our creative productions, for what is the source of these words
that seem to spring from a well deep in the human consciousness, or perhaps the collective consciousness of humanity as Jung suggested. For sure the poet’s mythology is but an extension of universal myth with the addition of his unique and original creations, stemming from his personal and communal life. He cannot claim total originality because his basic language is his Mother Tongue, the language of his people, thus his essential myths belong to his tribe, his nation, and he cannot escape this reality, no matter how deep he transcends into mystic shamanism.
In this sense, the poet is never, for all his individuality, an individual, but he is the collective voice of his people. Yes, he speaks for the living, the dead and the yet unborn; he speaks for the blind, the deaf and dumb; he speaks for the fearful, the speechless, the trembling and even the bold, the brave and the strong. If and when he is on point, the people will tell him so. In this sense, the poet is a mirror reflecting truth and beauty that the people already know, but they feel good to know that he knows and can speak about it, spit it out, make it plain, put it in stone.
Now when it goes to stone, sometimes the people are shaken, because they know the poet has gone down the hall of eternity and now they are spooked, for who knows what lies down the halls of eternity? This is why the poet must tell the truth, for no one wants lies sketched on the walls of eternity. And then too, who wants the truth inscribed in the halls and on the walls of eternity, if and when it happens to be the bitter truth, the ugly truth, the low down dirty truth. My family was horrified when I told the truth about them in my autobiography, even though some of the truth was already in the street. So what, they said, at least it wasn’t in stone.
Often the poet is bewildered by his words because he can be overwhelmed—so smart he outsmarts himself, thus, perhaps, they are not his words but the voice of God speaking through him. I said long ago, “I am the pen, Allah is the ink.” Yes, often the pen breaks down, we indeed trick ourselves, contradict our words in every way—and the people love to see us in contradiction, although they love us in righteousness as well, sometimes they will help us energetically no matter what route we choose, out of love.
In the dope house, I was given honor and respect no matter how much and how hard I tried to remain incognito because I knew I was a walking contradiction. But the people knew who I was and treated me as a hero, even though I was walking in shame. Even Huey Newton told me, “Don’t beat yaself, Jackmon,” as we sat smoking crack in West Oakland. I read that during slavery the people knew the leaders, the priests, the warriors, the griots, and they bowed down to them, gave them their propers.
We cannot hide from the people, they know who we are. I caught a woman in the dope house without any dope. She didn’t know me, but she said she saw me when I walked in and wondered what the fuck is this nigguh doing in the dope house. And after I rapped to her, she left with me, again, even though I didn’t have any dope. And we kicked it together for a minute. She tried to help me recover, although she was an alcoholic herself, and eventually lost her life in the game (peace be upon her). But as they say, game recognizes game!
In spite of all the above, we occasionally find ourselves in the mental ward. Yes, as my beloved brother Askari X titled his first album, we find ourselves a “Ward of the State.”
Yes, and I quote him, “A motherfuckin ward of the state.” I just want to say, Askari X is the most powerful Islamic poet I’ve ever heard. He became my son for awhile and I saw him come back from total insanity to a modicum of sanity, then back again to the outer limits, but in his good moments, I observed his genius mind in the studio recording entire albums from recall, doing retakes with perfect recall, a manifestation of the powerful African oral tradition. The present crop of rappers are far from the cream of the crop, wait til the real deal hollyfields step to the front of the line, and don’t expect to see them on BET or Def Poetry Jam, stay tuned to the black underground BAM station in your area.
During my stay in the mental hospital, I had the companionship of many poetic and artistic brothers and sisters. Clearly, some of our disabilities are shared by the general population, but poets were in abundance during my stay, point of information.
So all of us, poets and non-poets, might benefit from Dr. Nathan Hare’s prescription to establish peer mental health group sessions throughout this wretched land. Dr. Hare says we need not have present a professional mental health worker, but we can meet in the manner of AA, CA, NA, as peers to process our mental health issues. It is crystal clear to me that poets are doing this unconsciously in their open mikes and spoken word events, but we need to do it consciously so we are aware of the crisis and therefore take our poems more seriously because of their therapeutic nature and move beyond simple-minded applause into discussion, resolution, and conscious healing. Church!
Poets especially need Dr. Hare’s mental health group titled Black Reconstruction, alluding to the post slavery period of our African American sojourn, also the title of Dr. W.E.B. Du Bois’s classic study of the post slavery period by the same name BLACK RECONSTRUCTION. Poets need Black Reconstruction because we think we are so clever with our poetic pronouncements that we, sometimes, totally escape the reality called life, with all its implications and requirements for using common sense, rather than poetic sense which is often nothing but nonsense of the highest order. Somebody help me, Church!
Addiction and Liberation
Chemical and sexual addictions were the plague of our movement and partly caused its failure, in spite of our achievements which were significant when we stop beating ourselves and consider our accomplishments, as Amina Baraka constantly reminds us.
But after our daily round in a cloud of marijuana, accompanied by a plate of cocaine powder and a bottle of expensive brandy, observed by the hip hop generation, our children, they followed our example to the extent they now tell us at a rap concert, “We ain’t comin on stage less you get some Hennesy and bitches up in this motherfuckin dressin room."
Consequently, we must at least use the harm reduction model when and if total abstinence is not possible. If you must drink, cut the dosage. If you want sex with groupies, practice safe sex. There’s a right way to even do wrong. Don’t do wrong too long!
University of Poetry and Political Education
Since our politicians have been derelict in their duty to establish political institutes for the training of the next generation of political scientists, the University of Poetry will hold classes in political education.
While Elijah said, "No politician of this world can save you," it is also true that relevant and socially committed politicians can be helpful when held accountable to the community. It is indeed sad to see Christian ministers such as Rev. Jesse Jackson and Rev. Al Sharpton stumble and fumble with liberation theology in the political area, while our trained politicians seem to hide and duck challenging the power structure.
Imagine, one black woman, Barbara Lee, challenged the war hawks in the Bush house. One black woman, Cynthia McKinney, questioned the Bush devils on 9/11. If and when poets are required to step into the political area, we shall do so without fear.
Amiri Baraka brought over ten thousand people together at the National Black Assembly. Perhaps it is time to call another assembly, but a trained cadre of conscious and politically aware artists can and must move history forward. Those dead head rappers and poets must fall in line or fall into the dustbin of ancient history, taking their bling bling and slam/scams with them.
In The Beginning Was The Word
In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God and belongs to God. Those who play with the word are playing with God and He don't like ugly. The word is sacred, the word is holy, so be about the business of spreading truth not nonsense, lies, and frivolity for the sake of applause and a few pennies thrown from the master's table. Either get with Moses or go down as one of Pharaoh's magicians.
The Bible tells us the people were destroyed for lack of knowledge. Although we are in the Information Age, our community suffers from information starvation, with little relevant news from commercial or community newspapers (often community papers are either a hip hop rag sheet or a bourgeoisie perpetuation of the world of make believe and pseudo high society, so eloquently delineated by sociologist E. Franklin Frazier four decades ago in his classic Black Bourgeoisie.
Baraka asks, "Where are the black radical newspapers and magazines? Where are the freedom journals representing the aspirations of a people forty million strong, a people who are the 16th richest nation in the world?"
We Must Train Fearless Journalists
If these publications don't exist-and they don't-then the time has arrived to create them. We must train journalist dedicated to community service rather than objectivity.
Either the police beat Rodney King's ass or they didn't-there is nothing to be objective about. Either the police shot Diallo 41 times or they didn't-don't hide behind objectivity to eat a meal at Pharaoh's table. We must train fearless journalists, informed of world events so they can inform a community steeped in darkness of international affairs.
Additionally, the University of Poetry must train our community how to locate alternative news sources such as Al Jazeerah, Al Arabiyah, Pacifica News, NPR, and BBC, the most listened to news service on the planet—few Negroes tune in to the BBC unless they're outside this country.
If you don't listen to Amy Goodman's Democracy Now, one is simply out of the information loop. And where is our Amy Goodman? Oprah?
Where is our African American emergency information hotline? We know we cannot rely on governmental sources of information, nor can we depend on government bootlickers NBC, CBS, ABC, Fox and CNN, agents of misinformation and white racist propaganda.
Baraka has told us to stop thinking like Americans. Americans own ABC, CBS, NBC, et al, we don't—we were too stupid to keep BET. Nevertheless, we can create news sources in the Digital Age, improve and support TBWT and others. We can and must create the necessary radical journals, magazines, and newspapers that reflect the tradition of Freedom's Journal, Garvey's Negro World and Elijah's Muhammad Speaks.
Our publications need not be slick like Ebony, Essence, Vibe—content will make them slick. Remember how eagerly we sought copies of the Crusader by Robert Williams, a little hand sized newsletter that was earthshaking in calling for radical change.
Poets And The Religious Experience
The great mythologist Joseph Campbell taught that religion(s) prevent us from having the religious experience. Religion is basically a code of conduct for the masses, an opiate to keep them under control. I once asked Minister Farakhan why do religions, all religions, make slaves of believers? He simply said we must somehow move to the point that religion is a liberating force rather than an enslaver.
I have written elsewhere (Religion and Revolution) that religion is a road to God, God being the Mountain, so religion is a path up the mountain. Most people need religion because they fear going up the mountain alone, they want someone to hold their hand, to guide them, fearful, they refuse to stand alone and face God butt naked. So religious leaders baby sit them while they read kindergarten books about God, rather than plow up the mountain like a warrior after his enemy, although God is their friend, alas, God is themselves. Martin Luther King, Jr. went up to the mountaintop of himself and saw God in himself and needed to see no more. His work was finished. Somebody get a healing.
The priest, the preacher, the imam does not detour from the holy books, only the poet is fearless enough to go beyond the book into the dark abyss of mystical joy and searching. The priest/preacher/imam is locked in traditional myth and ritual, but the poet kicks down the door of tradition to make himself one with the Divine. By definition, he must transcend the common rites and rituals to experience the metaphysical, the mystical intercourse with God; in his fearlessness, in his search for something new, something extraordinary, he may "walk through the muck and mire of hell," but if he is a true believer, a shaman, he will "come out clean as white fish and black as coal" (quote from James Sweeney, foreword to In the Crazy House Called America by Marvin X).
The University of Poetry must teach spirituality but not religion. Spirituality is being one with God, being God, expressing godliness in all that we do. We are not apart from God, hence there is nothing to learn except to know who we really are. We are in God/ God is in us. There is no separation, no sin, we cannot get out of our God skin, except when we refuse to recognize what we are wearing. We have on an expensive fur coat, but we don't want to recognize it, so the thief comes and steals it off our back and we stand naked in the snow. Of course Jesus taught us sometimes it is better to give the thief your coat and your cloak, for God is still within, closer than our jugular vein, closer than all the blood flowing from head to toe, closer than close, if we recognize.
And we better recognize, in other words, make salat, prayer, as in salute, recognize. But our every move should be salat, not five times a day but all day, every step we step with God consciousness, every move we move in harmony with the Divine flow of the universe. We flow with the flow, whom shall we fear, fear is the counter flow, going against the Divine, against ourselves, the very essence of our being, our godliness or goodness. God is myself, whom shall I fear.
The man told you the only thing to fear is fear itself. Someone asked me why don't I go lead the people. I asked them, "Why don't you go lead the people." You won't do it because you are afraid, shaking in your boots, so you want someone else to do what you should be doing. To hell with you. Lead yourself, stupid! Enough men and women have died for you, die for yourself, or rather, live for yourself and others will follow your example. Just like you're watching me, somebody is watching you, so don't ask me to bear your burden. They say I fought battles I didn't have to fight, so now it's your turn, the ball is in your court, the baton is in your hand, run with it and don't look back. Keep the faith until you win the race!
All religions make slaves of believers, robots who recite myth and enact rituals unto death, thus creating the present situation of savage murder and self annihilation throughout the world in order to fulfill religious precepts, whether Christian White Supremacy or Muslim Fundamentalism. But often ignorance, poverty, and disease take the religious fanatic beyond tradition into the absurd because of hopelessness under authoritarian and fascist oppression, pseudo democracies and barbaric theocracies.
Under such conditions, the oppressed have the human and divine right to overthrow the oppressor by any means necessary, including self-annihilation, to hell with this life, persecution is worse than slaughter, better we perish than suffer oppression for one minute, one day, and we have suffered four hundred years. Why do we even bring slave children into the world, better to abort them than allow them to be fuel for the fires of oppression, to be tricks for the blood suckers of the poor, to go about their daily round deaf, dumb and blind, yes, blind in this world and blind in the hereafter. Wake up and see God, look in the mirror.
Perhaps the poet's insanity can bring about sanity to a world full of religions but devoid of persons enjoying the religious experience. Yes, the power of the poet is such that he can make you cry like you're at your mother's funeral. As a young man I did a production of Baraka’s Dutchman at Fresno State University. I needed a wig for Ethna X. Wyatt (now Hurriyah, queen of Black Arts West Theatre and Black House, San Francisco) to perform the role of the white woman Lula. So I got a local pimp to loan me a wig belonging to one of his sex workers.
The pimp came to the production and when he saw Lula stab Clay to death it rocked his world so much that he gave up pimping and joined the Nation of Islam, later became an Imam under Warith Din Muhammad, even made his haj to Mecca, such is the power of drama. And if the poet cannot move you in this fashion, to this degree, then he is not a poet and most certainly not a shaman, thus you are right to return to the authority of your priest/preacher/imam, and live happily ever after, deaf, dumb and blind to your divinity and eternity.
Poet As Shaman
The poet as shaman is a visionary who sees with his third eye, his spiritual eye. A people who don’t support their poets and other artists will get no prophecy and see no visions, Baraka said long ago. But the poet as shaman is in this world but not of this world. He is simultaneously in harmony with nature and beyond nature. He is in harmony with the trees, rivers, oceans, mountains, valleys, sun, moon, and stars. He is in harmony with the bees, birds, dogs, cows, and horses, even the flies. He knows and understands the flies. When flies bug him in the house, he knows they are telling him to let them out, so he opens the door for them to exit rather than kill them with the swatter.
He demands freedom for himself and all human beings, men and women. He must be free to think, to imagine the impossible, to create new thoughts, new configurations of society that are healthy and wholesome rather than destructive and demoralizing, inhibiting self development and transformation. For example, is the concept of marriage functional in the new age? Fifty per cent of the marriages end in divorce, pretty sad odds. Maybe we need to take a look at the concept and consider a reconfiguration that will make relationships more lasting and not full of sorrow, pain, and suffering, but happiness and joy.
We must look at the system of justice and envision a better way. Why should millions be imprisoned for petty crimes while the filthy rich plunder the world beyond the arm of justice. How shall the world disarm and arrest such global criminals for polluting the environment and pimping the poor unto death in the name of free trade, free slavery?
So it is the duty of the poet /shaman to think of ways out of this morass of suffering and injustice. He must conjure words that liberate the human spirit, inspire people to dream the impossible, to unite for the common good rather than selfish desires. The poet/shaman must force people to give up their fears, doubts and inferior complexes created by the social oppression of centuries. He must make the people feel good about themselves because he has given them knowledge, wisdom, and the appreciation of beauty and truth.
Music and Poetry
Sun Ra said, “Marvin, don’t you know armies march to music?” Of course they do, and music can kill, music can heal. When my driver suffered a mental breakdown, Sun Ra sent the brother an album and he got better. Music is therapy, and for black people it is truly their only therapist, they refuse any other doctor, maybe except doctor feel-good, as Aretha sang.
Music was an essential part of the BAM, coast to coast. Baraka had Sun Ra, the Aylers, Archie Shepp, Pharaoh Sanders, Milford Graves, Don Pullins. On the West Coast we had Dewey Redman, Raphael Donald Garrett, Monte Waters, BJ, Earl Davis, Oliver Johnson, and later Bobby Hutcherson, Sun Ra, Juju with Babatunde Lea and Plunky. In Chicago they had the Art Ensemble and Phil Corans Afro-Arts Theatre.
Today I am blessed to perform with Destiny (harp), Tarika (violin) and Tacuma (djembe and other instruments), and I detest performing without them. Yes, their “new age” sounds are healing for me, if no one else. Physician heal thyself.
We know music affects our central nervous system, calming us down or hyping us into a stupor. The culture police worry about the affect of lyrics on youth, but some youth informed me they pay no attention to the lyrics, only the beat, so perhaps the culture police should turn their attention away from the so-called disgusting lyrics and consider the beats and their effect on the mentality of youth. It’s the beats that have them bobbing and weaving like palm trees in the wind.
So I want music that can soothe the wild beast and transform the beast into a soldier for the cultural revolution. The BAM, revolution also had Coltrane’s A Love Supreme and My Favorite Things, Eric Dolphy’s Round Midnight, Mile’s Kind of Blue, and Nina talking plenty shit, but music, not techno music, live music that brought us alive and made us challenge the evil powers. Today the music is fostering the state of Yakubism, perpetuating violence and negative thinking, instead of healing sounds that liberate us mentally and physically. See the great Sufi master Hazrat Khan on music and sound.
We know there are only so many rhythms and each one has a different effect on the heart or central nervous system. Vudun, Santeria, Condomble all have rhythms to call forth the gods or spirits, each with a different purpose for each devotee, who only responds to a particular god’s rhythm or drum beat. But we’re dancing to beats about which we know nothing, except they make us feel good, meanwhile they are destroying our central nervous system, causing us to have a mental breakdown, yes, as we go down funky!
Ain’t it funky now. I didn’t say James Brown wasn’t healing!
The poet must integrate his healing words with healing music, and don’t forget the dancer who can translate our poetry into body language to help make the poem plain. Work that magic Raynetta Rayzetta! Elijah said, “I am only after the plainest way to get truth to my people. Poetry is a science.” So we want to make it so plain a fool can understand, the blind can see and the deaf can hear.
Poetics of Yakubism
The poetry genre “rap” must be examined from the reference point of the Muslim myth of Yakub, the mad scientist who created the white man through genetic engineering. (See Elijah Muhammad’s Message to the Black Man and Amiri Baraka’s play A BLACK MASS.) Yakub discovered the magnetic attraction of playing with two pieces of steel.
Hip Hop youth are fond of playing with steel, especially the gangsta rappers and their devotees. They repeatedly rap about gun violence, apparently have a fixation with weapons of steel, thus we call them Yakub’s children. Now the previous generation played with knives, so we were Yakubites as well. But our guns were mainly for hunting animals. Today’s Yakubites hunt each other. Often it is not about dope or sex, simply boredom, as some youth told me, “Man, when we bored, we put on our bulletproof vests, get our uzis and ride through the hood shootin nigguhs.” Are we not worse than the KKK? At least they don’t shoot each other!
Cars reflect the Yakub syndrome. Youth drive at high speed through city streets, killing innocent people while doing donuts and other tricks with their steel toys. And Yakub’s children can be seen playing in the streets while 2,000 pounds of steel is coming at them.
And they refuse to move as if the steel can stop on a dime. The children will walk right into the steel, fearless in the face of certain death, and will curse you for blowing your horn to warn them to get their ignut asses out of the street.
Of course, we must look at the teachers of Yakub’s children, America, the number one gun merchant of the world, who also supplies guns to Yakub’s children in the hoods of America, along with dope to destabilize the community. Gangsta rap adds fuel to the fire, with lyrics and videos praising violence, if only verbal violence, against brothers and sisters, reducing women to sex objects and parading them in prostitute garb.
In ancient times, the Yakubites were banned from the holy land, exiled in the hills and caves of Europa. As punishment for playing with steel, we may need to banish the modern Yakubites, unless they are willing to enter recovery and become civilized, renouncing urban savagery, whether poetic or real.
Poetics and Psycholinguistics
We are speaking here of the relationship between the mind and language. Sometimes words have us in such a tizzy we can’t think straight. We are so confused about the word nigguh we can’t engage in civil conversation about the term. And the irony is that no matter what we think about it, the term is now in worldwide usage with the multi-cultural hip hop generation. The word nigguh is literally making billions of dollars, yet the nigguhs are often mortally afraid of the term, as they are afraid of themselves, generally.
True, its origin conjures the most despicable aspects of American history and culture, yet language is in constant flux, taking on new meanings or connotations, so it is culturally lagging to remain fixated on the denotation of a word that has been transformed into something positive rather than negative. Get over it, nigguh ain’t going nowhere soon, unless we stop speaking English. It is one of the most powerful words in American English with multiple meanings, depending on tone, stress and speaker. It can get you killed or get you in bed with your lover. It is a word that comes from the depths of slavery but its current usage indicates the slave’s language is superior to the master’s.
For all his effort to make it a term of debasement, it is now a term of love and appreciation, as in “You my nigguh.” And this can be said between two white persons, Latinos, Asians, or whomever. Negro speech is but another aspect of our culture that is co-opted by world culture, over which we have absolutely no control. Do we control Blues, Jazz, or Rap for that matter? And now poetry is being pimped by slams and def jams. We understand there is a poetry war in Los Angeles between the conscious poets and the dead head slam poets.
While we believe in freedom of speech, we must push for poetry that moves history forward, not treading water in the personal, but reaching out to arouse political consciousness in a people who amble about like dead men walking. Imagine, there is no black representation in the California State legislature above Bakersfield. This is a pitiful situation that reflects the apolitical nature of the times and poets must break the spell with word magic.
On another point, I maintain there are no profane or obscene words, only profane and obscene actions. Saying motherfucker is in no way equal to being a mother fucker. Words are the tool of poets, writers, so just as Picasso would not limit himself to certain colors, no poet is going to limit his language except in context. Words only have relevance in context.
If we are writing for polite society, we might use Miller Lite language. But if we are describing or recreating language of the hood, we use Old English 800 terminology, some ass kicking shit.
Writers/poets must have freedom of speech. We cannot be held hostage to the culture police whether they are phony black bourgeoisie, religious or radical purists, all of whom can be found using the most vile language when it suits them, usually in anger and rage. A friend who abhors the term bitch, recently informed me she called her son a bitch in anger and rage at his juvenile behavior. So the culture police are at the very least hypocritical, and most certainly ignorant of the complex function of language, or is it simply denial, again context: it’s proper and improper depending on the moment.
Baraka jammed me one night in New York for using profanity in the presence of his wife, who quite frequently uses profanity, especially in describing and communicating with her husband. But I was horrified that the motherfucker who taught me how to say motherfucker had flipped on me and was telling me to shut up. Yes, this is the man whose poetics freed us psycholinguistically during the 60s. What poet or playwright wasn’t influenced by The Dutchman? Perhaps Baraka has become conservative, but again, words are valid in context, and even now when he wants to say motherfucker he doesn’t hesitate to include it in a poem or in conversation.
I find it very strange when the culture police tell me not to use certain language because children are present, yet, the children use more gutter language that myself, Baraka and Shakespeare together. Yes, the old bard was raw when the occasion called for it.
Now if we want to talk about a new language, it would be the language of silence, yes, don’t read my lips, but read my mind. I can read yours. I know what you’re thinking, so be silent. Why is it necessary to yap endlessly day and night, especially when you have no idea what you’re saying, you’re simply masturbating at the mouth. Words are extensions of our mind, so let’s go to the deep structure and read minds. You don’t need to call me on the phone because I already know what you’re thinking, and you know what’s on my mind. Silencia por favor.
Poetic Sexuality
Sex is the gasoline that fuels the poetic engine. After climax, the poet can get up and write all nite. He is energized, although he may never get enough, a delusion of his addictive personality. He is addicted to beauty and truth, often both of them come in the form of the opposite sex.
But normal sex is not good enough. The worse thing in the world to tell the poet is to be normal. “Why don’t you act like normal people?” The last thing on earth he wants to be is normal. Now if you want a normal motherfucker, get yo square ass away from the poet person. He is the natural born freak. He wants more and a variety thereof. If you think he will ever be satisfied with only you, you are dumber than the dumbest mule let out of Georgia. Not only does he love beauty and truth, but the more beauty and truth the better.
Even if you are the most beautiful woman in the world, the poet looks at you thinking it would be even more beautiful if there were two of you taking care of me. Church!
No one should ever approach the poet with the idea he should do anything normal, for he dwells in the abnormal, the different, just to be different. He is sexually insatiable, just to be insatiable, simply because in your simple mindedness you think he should be satisfied.
He purposely must fuck with you, go beyond your normal thoughts, so that you never consider him on such a lowly plain—in his warped mind.
And yet, there comes a woman who takes him beyond sex into the love zone, although in the deep structure of his mind, he is in love with poetry. Poetry is his lover, just as Duke Ellington said, “Music is my mistress.”
Believe it or not, he is ultimately asexual, caring nothing for sex, especially if it interferes with his creativity. Was it Emerson who said, “I would write on the lentils of a door post.”?
His sheets are full of ink from pens he left uncapped after falling asleep writing in bed. He is funky, refusing to bathe after writing for days. And he is the supreme distant lover, never, ever, never, ever there. Look into his eyes, but he is not there, his mind is lost in a poem, while his lover chats endlessly about their relationship and what a commitment means to her, as if he gives a fuck about what she’s running off at the mouth about in her utter seriousness that means absolutely nothing to him. He is lost in poetic dreamland, where he lives 24/7 and most likely where he will die, graciously. It doesn’t matter if you have been with him four years or thirty-four years, the net result is the same, so you either love the man ya wit or get yo ass on—whatever ya do, don’t think ya gonna change baby boy cause it ain’t that kinna party. Love him for what he is and where he is: in the poetic dreamland where he lives and where his heart is at in peace, and where no one but God can penetrate. Church! So now you know, poets are crazy motherfuckers.
The Poetics of Love
Love is the grand theme of poetry, all other themes pale in comparison because love is at the heart and soul of every poet. Of course love of the opposite sex is often a metaphor for Divine love. And what is hate except a heart crying out for love, so love is the question and the answer, the problem and the solution. How often do we hear young poets crying in their poems about what love has or hasn’t done to them, and old poets as well, so poets must go deep down into the sea of love and write from there the poems of eternity, even political poems are rooted in love of justice, truth and peace, but love is the motivator, love for a new day beyond the white night of oppression and human misery, love, even when love is impossible the thought is ever present to have the experience, the joy.
Now of course poets sometimes find themselves full of love, so full they take it for granted, after picking all the lilies in the field, and the lilies seem to come a poet’s way with each poem recited. Want to win the soul of a beautiful woman, read her a poem that touches her heart strings and she will melt into your arms, even break into tears at the beauty of your words, and even you will be shocked at the power of poetry, so try not to abuse these divine words that spring from the fountain of eternity like a well placed before you by God Himself, so never think you are self sufficient, this idea is the stuff of classic tragedy, Shakespeare’s dramas are full of men and women who thought too much of themselves, beyond themselves, so they fell into disgrace and shame. And they wondered what happened to love.
University of Poetry and Basic Education
Finally, the University of Poetry is for all brothers and sisters who can't learn anywhere else, who might be teachable with the spoken word. We know they can learn, perhaps the failure has been methodology, insincere teachers and administrators. We want the University of Poetry to be a place students are taught with love, patience and understanding. We know Johnny and Johnnymae can learn. Johnny sells dope, thus he's a salesman. He weighs and measures dope, so he knows math. He cooks dope, so he is a chemist. He packages dope, so he deals with marketing and promotion. Johnny can learn. He has look outs, so he deals with security. He keeps the count right on pain of death, so he knows bookkeeping. Johnny can learn. He has a baby and a baby mama, so he deals with responsibility. Johnny can learn. Let's teach him at the University of Poetry.
Let's make one thing perfectly clear: the University of Poetry is not about freedom, rather discipline, discipline, discipline, in the spirit of our dearly departed master teacher Sun Ra, mystic, musician, philosopher, poet, mythologist, ritualist of the Black Arts Movement. Long live Master Teacher Sun Ra!
Funding the University of Poetry
In conclusion, lack of a stable economic base caused the fall of the Black Arts Movement,, aside from its alignment with the liberation movement and the government's orchestrated attack on the overall freedom struggle. The University of Poetry can and must be sustained by the people, not by the whims of governmental and corporate funders, although we have a right to such funds because they are derived from tax dollars. But we must be self sustaining and beyond censorship, independent, including beyond the slimy fingers of the black culture police. If the dead head rappers and poets don't want to join the revolution, they can make donations and be sponsors. They should not have a profit motive: the revolution is not for profit. Bacon said, "Truth will not make you rich, but it will make you free." As-Salaam-Alaikum.
University of Poetry National Tour
We want to take the University of Poetry on a national tour of twenty-seven major cities to perform with legends of the Black Arts Movement, and hip hop conscious poets, also to conduct workshops as described above, establishing a University of Poetry in each community. We must produce journals, newspapers, magazines, books, videos, films, CDs in each community to advance the cultural revolution. The tour should have an executive committee and a local organizing committee that will help raise the necessary funds for each community and do the outreach, marketing, promotion, and logistics.
Budget for the National Tour is estimated @ $100,000 per city for a total of $2,700,000. If you would like to help sponsor this tour or would like to make a generous donation. Email me at mrvnx@yahoo.com.
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By Marvin X
Chancellor, University of Poetry,
A Project of the Black Arts Movement
The University of Poetry is a continuation of the Black Arts Movement, a performance/academic/activist project to inspire the Cultural Revolution in African America, with implications for the rest of humanity that apparently follows closely every cultural move of African Americans. We can't fart without the world copying our fart. So perhaps we should be flattered except for the fact that often imitation becomes exploitation and we become victims of our own creations, e.g., "Lord, look what they did to my song."
Nevertheless, we shall strive forward with our cultural revolution to transform the negative aspects of our lives into the positive, to reconnect our community, parents with children, males with females, brother to brother and sister to sister, yes, even enemies must reconcile in the spirit of recovery, healing and liberation of the entire community. This is the challenge of the new millennium and we shall not move forward without meeting it. Either we are brave warriors willing to face the jihad within ourselves and our community, or we're cowards prepared to tread water until we become extinct, a forgotten people, relics of a glorious past but no future except a multicultural chasm where we exist on the last rung of the ladder, simply because we refuse to transcend our differences for the greater good, thus succumbing to a low intensity war determined to destroy us politically, economically, morally and culturally.
University of Poetry: The Performance and Educational Arm of the Cultural Revolution
As Fidel Castro has said, our weapon is consciousness, yes, it is the only weapon we have that can defeat the forces allied against us. Consciousness is an awareness of our traditions and our mission. Our tradition is a freedom loving people, not political, economic and cultural slaves to others. We reject the slave tradition of clowning and buffoonery so evident in African American artistic expression, especially movies and rap (now called yap, for rap derived from the tradition of revolutionary spoken word: H. Rap Brown, Huey Newton, Bobby Seale, Last Poets, Baraka, Sonia, Askia, Haki, X, and yes, Malcolm, Martin, Kwame Toure, Fannie Lou, Queen Mother Moore, Angela). If one is not aspiring to be in the tradition of Paul Robeson, i.e., the artistic freedom fighter, then one has no right to claim membership in the Black Arts Movement, and is therefore merely a whore for capitalist pimps, ready to wear any clown suit, do any shuffle, say any jingle and rhyme, put on any make up and dance for the master's American bandstand, manifesting the cultural hate personified by the likes of Michael Jackson and others too numerous to mention.
No people with consciousness would allow themselves to be paraded on BET, MTV and elsewhere as naked whores, pseudo gangstas and wannabe pimps. Although we are about artistic freedom and freedom of speech, we reject phony black bourgeoisie culture police who are themselves guilty of a profane and obscene lifestyle of conspicuous consumption, yet we demand African American artists get in harmony with our tradition and mission to use our creativity to help liberate the deaf, dumb and blind, not take them deeper into the devil's den of iniquity.
University of Poetry Will Speak Truth to Power
The University of Poetry will perform works that liberate not desecrate. Rappers have given us graphic descriptions of our psychosocial condition, now we must come with solutions. If you hate yo daddy and mama, show me how you turned hate into love, show me how you sought reconciliation and unconditional love. Otherwise, you are simply yapping nursery rhymes, snibbling like snotty nose babies too pitiful to wake up and release your lips from your mother's breasts, you ungrateful bastards! Grow up, did mama tell you life was a bowl of cherries—you are lucky to have a mother and father—think of all the children who are products of foster care.
We were not brought to America to create families, but to be mules, donkeys and horses, and have our families utterly destroyed for capitalism and slavery. And we can only overcome America's plan for us by putting on the armour of God and standing tall together, defying America's hope for our continued subservience and debauchery.
Poets and spoken word artists have an obligation to speak truth to power, not submit gleefully, yapping nonsense around the world to make a dollar and make mockery of the elders, calling them "broke heroes," although the so-called broke heroes are the reason you are among the newly rich because of their sacrifice and unconditional love for your punk asses.
The American Educational System Is An Abysmal Failure
Since the American educational system has failed to teach Johnny and Johnnymae how to read, write and most of all, think, the University of Poetry shall see it as a priority to teach basic skills. How can we have a drama class in which students are unable to read the script. I have taught such classes on the college and university level, so I know the degree of the problem. Don't try to cover ignorance and mental retardation as a result of America's public school miseducation.
The University of Poetry will train students with talent in the arts: drama, dance, music, creative writing, nonfiction, poetry and spoken word, for these are serious crafts that take discipline and training, not a jack in the box game of jingles and rhymes produced because one can memorize words that are full of sound and fury signifying nothing, although audiences are enraptured by the nothingness and babble, rewarding the jester with money at poetry Slams/Scams, deluding the person that he/she is a poet and spoken word master because of his/her natural talent as a product of the ancient African oral tradition.
Racism 101
Racism is the abomination of the new world, but Elijah Muhammad used racism and black supremacy as an anti-toxin to white supremacy. The Black Arts Movement did the same. Whites were often banned from attending performances and certainly from performing in productions. Harold Cruse noted how this marked a radical departure from traditional Negro theatre (see Crisis of the Negro Intellectual). Thus BAM was of, for, and by Black people, if only for a moment, time enough to get “ourselves” together. This moment was necessary to raise a people from the dead, who were full of fear after being terrorized for centuries by white supremacy.
Why is this so difficult to understand, perhaps because there are those in denial about the ravages of white supremacy on African American minds, to say nothing about what it has done to delusional white minds. Why should victims of liars and murderers want them in our presence? How can we recover with them in our midst? Can the rape victim recover with the rapist in her bed?
Even today, American racism and capitalism/imperialism is the scorn of the earth, blood sucking the poor in the name of global free trade, caring nothing for the rights of poor nations to economic parity. You consume the world’s energy for the greedy privilege of driving SUVs and having a television in every room, left on 24/7. You have no intentions of dealing with the root causes of terrorism: poverty, ignorance, and disease. Until you do so, you will become a prisoner in your own land, afraid of those outside your borders and those within whom you’ve equally mistreated, abused and falsely accused of being criminals, unworthy to share in the fruits of their labor and that of their ancestors, while white descendants enjoy the surplus capital from centuries of slave labor.
Our primary concern was then and is now ourselves. You are dangerous to our health, mental, physical, and spiritual, unless you have radicalized your consciousness, or shall we say become blackenized, certainly all vestiges of white supremacy must be processed out of your consciousness. Those whites who have worked on themselves we welcome as allies, brothers and sisters in revolution.
It is not the nature of Africans or African Americans to hate and exclude. We can be nationalists and internationalists without hating and excluding. But we do have the human right to do for self as others do, whites, Latinos, Asians, gays, lesbians, and others of every race, sex and creed.
We must not be afraid to become economically self-sufficient. We were in better economic shape under segregation, yes, when we were Negroes, now we’re black and don’t have a decent restaurant or hotel in any American city.
We have thousands of religious houses where the people receive their dose of opium as a form of social control to delay the day of our liberation, where people are taught fairy tales and nursery rhymes about a sky god who died on the cross for our sins, sins? What have African Americans done but be loyal slaves, down to this present moment we are dying in Iraq defending liars and murderers.
Finally, racism is a component of capitalism. We cannot be capitalists because we have no capital! We hardly have one black bank in America. Where are our African American global markets? We might sell a few raps songs in Europe and Asia, but do we sell a blackmobile, trucks, socks, toilet paper, matches?
Black Studies and the University of Poetry
Although black studies derived from the efforts of black revolutionary students, with the demise of the liberation struggle, radical instructors and scholars were removed and replaced with academically "qualified" collaborators and trusted colonial servants, unconcerned with the original mission of black studies: to uplift the community. As a result, for every one brother going to college, four go to prison. For the most part, black studies is a sham, a place for tenured Negroes to keep a job for life unless they rock the boat by teaching radical ideas found to be politically incorrect by their academic masters.
Black Studies began in revolution, but has succumb to reaction and irrelevance with respect to providing a leadership role in uplifting the community. Where is a truly radical black studies department? Where in America is one black radical college or university?
Please don't mention the Negro colleges and universities, mainly outhouses for training house slaves who escape the hood into corporate America and never look back. Of course the white colleges and universities do the same. Isn't it interesting that Dr. Ben couldn't find a black academic institution to donate his thirty thousand volume library? He gave it to the Nation of Islam, which is very ironic in light of his history of anti-Islamic pronouncements.
As a consequence of the above, the University of Poetry must step to the front line of community education; it must become an institution for the training of radical scholars and social activists who will fulfill the original mission of black studies by attacking illiteracy, joblessness, economic empowerment, addictions, mental and physical health issues and spiritual poverty caused by excessive religiosity. Academic subjects will be considered for their relevance to life issues as we confront America's low intensity war on a daily basis.
Gender Studies and the University of Poetry
The Arabic word nisa has two meanings depending on syllable stress. One meaning is woman, another meaning is to forget. Long ago, Warith Din Muhammad gave a lecture on how men forget women. More recently, Amina Baraka exhorted me and her husband, Amiri, not to forget women, to respect them always, especially for their contribution to our liberation struggle: "Remember the women of history, remember Harriet Tubman, Sojourner Truth, Ida B. Wells, remember Fannie Lou Hamer, Rosa Parks, Queen Mother Moore, remember Ella Collins," Amina cried.
The University of Poetry must address problems in male/female relations since such problems directly impact healthy family and community development. Mrs. Baraka was addressing two poets, both having the artistic sensibility and insensitivity to become emotionally detached from women, children and men in our quest for creativity, thinking a poem is more important than the human being. (Of course Amiri Baraka is qualified to speak for himself, but since I know him, I'm taking the liberty to place him in the boat with me, other poets and artists in general.)
If men of intelligence can be so detached, imagine the behavior of men with lesser intelligence. Perhaps this is why the divorce courts and the anger management programs are full. Men just don't get it and some have no intention to "get it." It will take generations before the patriarchal mentality subsides, if then, although great strides have been made in male/female equality. Now we are in danger of women getting revenge after coming into power situations. They want to oppress. Go before a female judge with a domestic violence case.
But the socialization of males and females must be examined to explore better, healthier methods of interpersonal relations. How can women who love talking endlessly, communicate with men who will go silent when approached on critical matters? "Do you hear me, man," the woman says, "Then why don't you say something?" In the TS Eliot poem the women say, "That is not what I meant, that is not what I meant at all. . . ."
Male education must involve manhood rites that allow them to explore male psychology and female psychology, and the same for women. So often we come together not knowing a damn thing about each other, until it is too late, two or three children later, several ass whippings later.
Men must learn to understand and treat females as equal but different human beings. The idea is not to make men more feminine, but to understand their natural selves and gain a more precise understanding of the opposite sex. Mythologically speaking, understand the function of the sky god and the earth mother goddess. One is the protector, one the nurturer. Today the situation is such that the woman needs protection from the protector!
And the man feels his nurturer is somehow his enemy, the very person he sleeps with he is terrified of, and often the woman feels the same. What kind of horror story is this?
Moving from myth to nature, roosters will not become hens, bulls will not become cows, so stop trying to reverse nature, although it is urgent that we understand the nature of human psychology, understand different functions of each sex, responsibilities, desires, drives and dreams. Often men are indeed lost in the stars, while women are usually forced to stay grounded in reality. As Joseph Campbell explains, men must be taught they are approaching manhood. Women know they are approaching womanhood at the first cycle—they can see, feel, touch, smell womanhood, but men need a ritual: they must come out of the sky and go into the bush to be terrified into the reality of manhood.
Men must at least listen to the dreams of women, even if we reject their dreams, and women must do the same—ultimately a compromise can and must be found. It shall never be again, "Your way or no way," although men will attempt to maintain male privilege until the sky falls—look up, brother, the sky is falling!
And women, in their new found aggression and power positions, will push their agenda at every turn, forcing men to react violently, "Bitch, I don't want to hear nothing you got to say. Shut the fuck up." But she's not going to shut up and she ain't going away—you may leave her for another woman but strangely it will be the same woman with another name. A woman is a woman is a woman is a woman, stupid!
So before there can be unity, there must be understanding. The main thing is not to oppress each other, especially since we're both freshly out of slavery. Men often feel the double-edged sword of oppression from the black woman and the white man. And women feel the same sword blade from the white man and the black man. If we, males and females, would recognize we're not enemies but friends and lovers, sailing in the same love boat, we'll be at least halfway free!
When women are at the top of their game, they have the unique ability to get anything they want from men, sometimes with the glance of an eye, a stride, a smile, the tone of her voice can totally disarm a man. Call it feminine charm or whatever, but women have been successful throughout the ages. With her newfound power, do not forget her ancient secrets that worked for thousands of years, giving her the ability to be a helpmate to great men and tearing down great men when in rage and frustration.
Consider the Children
These twisted male/female relationships have profound implications for the children. When the male departs from the jungle to the forest, the child, especially the male child, is soon out of control, usually by age 15. He is in absolute rebellion against his mother's agenda, although her agenda is often bisexual because she is forced to don the persona of the female/male. The young man's hatred is directed at the female side of the mask, although he harbors a distinct hatred for his missing father as well. So consider his rage, just as his hormones are kicking in. Again, the need for manhood training. But even with females, there is a need and desire for father's love that she will search for in fatherless young men or dirty old men!
Likewise, with young males, the hatred is transferred to girlfriends whom they verbally and physically abuse. This hatred is expressed in the poetic language of rap songs. Healing such shattered young lives is the task of mental health specialists such as Dr. Nathan Hare's Black Reconstruction mental health group sessions that he is calling to be established across America. In the interim, hip hop youth use poetry, sometimes unconsciously, for peer counseling, and this is all good. The University of Poetry must address such stress and strains in the personality of males and females, urging them to use poetry as a healing tool in their lives, let poetry be a bridge for reconciliation rather than a vehicle to only express pain and rage between the sexes and the generations.
Poetically Gay
If we were against gay and lesbian poets, there would be little poetry to read, since the arts seem to be the home of many gay people. Imagine a world without Langston Hughes or James Baldwin, or Audre Lorde and June Jordan. So my attitude is what does sex have to do with being a poet—nothing! A poet must understand human sexuality in general. A poet stuck on being gay is not a poet, for what happens when he or she must put on the persona of a man or woman, or a tree for that matter. A poet must transcend all sexuality in order to understand the universal human spirit that is, yes, beyond a particular sexual orientation. Gays and lesbians might sometimes have a more sensitive spirit, but every poet, whether gay or straight, must have a sensitive spirit.
Did Baldwin write as a gay or as a writer of the human condition? After my 1968 interview with him, I remarked to Ed Bullins, “He talked like a man.” Ed said, “He damn sho did.” Alas, Baldwin wrote the script for Spike Lee’s film Malcolm X. If he had been trapped in his gayness, how could he have written a script about a hero who symbolized black manhood? When people questioned whether he was qualified to write the script because of his gayness, Baldwin said, “Hey, I pay my rent, I write what I want to write.”
In the video version of my play One Day In The Life, a gay actor portrays my son. If he had not transcended his gayness, he wouldn’t have been in my play. So he was in my play because he was a great actor. At the audition for my play in New York, a gay brother tried out for the part but couldn’t transcend his sexuality. My daughter was casting director, and when I told her to let the guy read the part again, she said, “No, Daddy, no. Let me handle this. He got to go!”
So we have no time to condemn people for their sexual orientation. We might thereby condemn the goose laying the golden egg. We could use another Baldwin or Langston right about now to help free us from this precipice.
But I say to those who passed legislation permitting sex between consenting adults, and in California one of them was then Assemblyman Willie L. Brown, if gays can be with gays and lesbians with lesbians, then men who love prostitutes should be allowed to be with their sex workers in peace, not sneaking around in the alley like a broke dick dog, arrested and cars seized. Yes, legalize prostitution. Lakum dinu kum waliya din: to you your way and to me mine.
Integrated Medicine
Sobriety for some people is possible, but not for all. Harm reduction is the model we favor, just don’t kill yourself, make an all out effort not to self destruct on drugs, if you insist on using them, try to maintain a level of functionality. Some people have been on dope for decades, working everyday and taking care of their families, they just happen to love dope and have no intention of giving it up.
Drugs should probably be legalized, especially when so many people are hooked on legal drugs. Look at the “high” and mighty Rush Limbaugh! And many people have absolutely no intention of ever giving up marijuana or even cocaine for that matter. Decriminalizing drugs would take great pressure off the legal and penal systems, especially if we treat drug abuse as a mental health issue.
We should consider the medicinal value of such drugs that have been used as such for centuries. In other words, certain illegal drugs should be integrated into the catalogue of therapeutic medicines. Some people are better off on certain drugs, even illegal drugs. They have better personalities on drugs than they do when clean and sober—they are clean and sober assholes, disgusting to be around. We should rush them their old drugs if it alters their wretched clean and sober personalities that are often fowl, evil, arrogant and abusive, the dry drunkards.
Yes, we know drugs were only the symptom, not the problem. They have issues in the deep structure of their minds that even drugs cannot remedy. Like an actor putting on makeup, they medicate themselves to face the world, sadly, the world can see underneath the makeup.
Poets and other artists are especially inclined to seek the euphoric state of mind induced by drugs, especially in the emptiness of their hotel suites after the applause is over, the last hurrah. We know the best high is the natural high, we know the body produces the chemicals to make us high, if we would only do the natural thing to release these chemicals. But like the common people, we go for the punk high, high on the cheap, although it can be very expensive, costing our very lives, affecting our families and friends in our selfishness and eagerness to self-destruct. The Ken Burns documentary on jazz artists was so tragic to see our great artists self destructing one after the other. As great as she was, we wonder how greater Billie Holiday would have been without drugs.
And Charlie Parker, Miles, Coltrane, et al.
Art requires a high state of discipline, so young artists, poets, must come to the conclusion that a clear mind is the best tool for success. If one must indulge, try harm reduction. This is what I do. I can do without drugs, but if I want to drink alcohol I do so. But I get high writing as I’m doing right now. I get high seeing my children, woman (when she acts right, whatever that means), visiting the mountains, rivers, creeks, oceans.
Nothing is all bad, even drugs, nor is anything all good, except God. So get with the Most High and stay high forever.
Poets and Mental Health
It is a truism that there is a thin line between creativity and insanity. Poets walk the razor’s edge of being in this world and hearing voices from another world, the world of creation, myth making, and word magic. My first Arabic name was Nazzam, organizer or systematizer, which is what poets do, create a system of myth with their body of work.
Often we are amazed at our creative productions, for what is the source of these words
that seem to spring from a well deep in the human consciousness, or perhaps the collective consciousness of humanity as Jung suggested. For sure the poet’s mythology is but an extension of universal myth with the addition of his unique and original creations, stemming from his personal and communal life. He cannot claim total originality because his basic language is his Mother Tongue, the language of his people, thus his essential myths belong to his tribe, his nation, and he cannot escape this reality, no matter how deep he transcends into mystic shamanism.
In this sense, the poet is never, for all his individuality, an individual, but he is the collective voice of his people. Yes, he speaks for the living, the dead and the yet unborn; he speaks for the blind, the deaf and dumb; he speaks for the fearful, the speechless, the trembling and even the bold, the brave and the strong. If and when he is on point, the people will tell him so. In this sense, the poet is a mirror reflecting truth and beauty that the people already know, but they feel good to know that he knows and can speak about it, spit it out, make it plain, put it in stone.
Now when it goes to stone, sometimes the people are shaken, because they know the poet has gone down the hall of eternity and now they are spooked, for who knows what lies down the halls of eternity? This is why the poet must tell the truth, for no one wants lies sketched on the walls of eternity. And then too, who wants the truth inscribed in the halls and on the walls of eternity, if and when it happens to be the bitter truth, the ugly truth, the low down dirty truth. My family was horrified when I told the truth about them in my autobiography, even though some of the truth was already in the street. So what, they said, at least it wasn’t in stone.
Often the poet is bewildered by his words because he can be overwhelmed—so smart he outsmarts himself, thus, perhaps, they are not his words but the voice of God speaking through him. I said long ago, “I am the pen, Allah is the ink.” Yes, often the pen breaks down, we indeed trick ourselves, contradict our words in every way—and the people love to see us in contradiction, although they love us in righteousness as well, sometimes they will help us energetically no matter what route we choose, out of love.
In the dope house, I was given honor and respect no matter how much and how hard I tried to remain incognito because I knew I was a walking contradiction. But the people knew who I was and treated me as a hero, even though I was walking in shame. Even Huey Newton told me, “Don’t beat yaself, Jackmon,” as we sat smoking crack in West Oakland. I read that during slavery the people knew the leaders, the priests, the warriors, the griots, and they bowed down to them, gave them their propers.
We cannot hide from the people, they know who we are. I caught a woman in the dope house without any dope. She didn’t know me, but she said she saw me when I walked in and wondered what the fuck is this nigguh doing in the dope house. And after I rapped to her, she left with me, again, even though I didn’t have any dope. And we kicked it together for a minute. She tried to help me recover, although she was an alcoholic herself, and eventually lost her life in the game (peace be upon her). But as they say, game recognizes game!
In spite of all the above, we occasionally find ourselves in the mental ward. Yes, as my beloved brother Askari X titled his first album, we find ourselves a “Ward of the State.”
Yes, and I quote him, “A motherfuckin ward of the state.” I just want to say, Askari X is the most powerful Islamic poet I’ve ever heard. He became my son for awhile and I saw him come back from total insanity to a modicum of sanity, then back again to the outer limits, but in his good moments, I observed his genius mind in the studio recording entire albums from recall, doing retakes with perfect recall, a manifestation of the powerful African oral tradition. The present crop of rappers are far from the cream of the crop, wait til the real deal hollyfields step to the front of the line, and don’t expect to see them on BET or Def Poetry Jam, stay tuned to the black underground BAM station in your area.
During my stay in the mental hospital, I had the companionship of many poetic and artistic brothers and sisters. Clearly, some of our disabilities are shared by the general population, but poets were in abundance during my stay, point of information.
So all of us, poets and non-poets, might benefit from Dr. Nathan Hare’s prescription to establish peer mental health group sessions throughout this wretched land. Dr. Hare says we need not have present a professional mental health worker, but we can meet in the manner of AA, CA, NA, as peers to process our mental health issues. It is crystal clear to me that poets are doing this unconsciously in their open mikes and spoken word events, but we need to do it consciously so we are aware of the crisis and therefore take our poems more seriously because of their therapeutic nature and move beyond simple-minded applause into discussion, resolution, and conscious healing. Church!
Poets especially need Dr. Hare’s mental health group titled Black Reconstruction, alluding to the post slavery period of our African American sojourn, also the title of Dr. W.E.B. Du Bois’s classic study of the post slavery period by the same name BLACK RECONSTRUCTION. Poets need Black Reconstruction because we think we are so clever with our poetic pronouncements that we, sometimes, totally escape the reality called life, with all its implications and requirements for using common sense, rather than poetic sense which is often nothing but nonsense of the highest order. Somebody help me, Church!
Addiction and Liberation
Chemical and sexual addictions were the plague of our movement and partly caused its failure, in spite of our achievements which were significant when we stop beating ourselves and consider our accomplishments, as Amina Baraka constantly reminds us.
But after our daily round in a cloud of marijuana, accompanied by a plate of cocaine powder and a bottle of expensive brandy, observed by the hip hop generation, our children, they followed our example to the extent they now tell us at a rap concert, “We ain’t comin on stage less you get some Hennesy and bitches up in this motherfuckin dressin room."
Consequently, we must at least use the harm reduction model when and if total abstinence is not possible. If you must drink, cut the dosage. If you want sex with groupies, practice safe sex. There’s a right way to even do wrong. Don’t do wrong too long!
University of Poetry and Political Education
Since our politicians have been derelict in their duty to establish political institutes for the training of the next generation of political scientists, the University of Poetry will hold classes in political education.
While Elijah said, "No politician of this world can save you," it is also true that relevant and socially committed politicians can be helpful when held accountable to the community. It is indeed sad to see Christian ministers such as Rev. Jesse Jackson and Rev. Al Sharpton stumble and fumble with liberation theology in the political area, while our trained politicians seem to hide and duck challenging the power structure.
Imagine, one black woman, Barbara Lee, challenged the war hawks in the Bush house. One black woman, Cynthia McKinney, questioned the Bush devils on 9/11. If and when poets are required to step into the political area, we shall do so without fear.
Amiri Baraka brought over ten thousand people together at the National Black Assembly. Perhaps it is time to call another assembly, but a trained cadre of conscious and politically aware artists can and must move history forward. Those dead head rappers and poets must fall in line or fall into the dustbin of ancient history, taking their bling bling and slam/scams with them.
In The Beginning Was The Word
In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God and belongs to God. Those who play with the word are playing with God and He don't like ugly. The word is sacred, the word is holy, so be about the business of spreading truth not nonsense, lies, and frivolity for the sake of applause and a few pennies thrown from the master's table. Either get with Moses or go down as one of Pharaoh's magicians.
The Bible tells us the people were destroyed for lack of knowledge. Although we are in the Information Age, our community suffers from information starvation, with little relevant news from commercial or community newspapers (often community papers are either a hip hop rag sheet or a bourgeoisie perpetuation of the world of make believe and pseudo high society, so eloquently delineated by sociologist E. Franklin Frazier four decades ago in his classic Black Bourgeoisie.
Baraka asks, "Where are the black radical newspapers and magazines? Where are the freedom journals representing the aspirations of a people forty million strong, a people who are the 16th richest nation in the world?"
We Must Train Fearless Journalists
If these publications don't exist-and they don't-then the time has arrived to create them. We must train journalist dedicated to community service rather than objectivity.
Either the police beat Rodney King's ass or they didn't-there is nothing to be objective about. Either the police shot Diallo 41 times or they didn't-don't hide behind objectivity to eat a meal at Pharaoh's table. We must train fearless journalists, informed of world events so they can inform a community steeped in darkness of international affairs.
Additionally, the University of Poetry must train our community how to locate alternative news sources such as Al Jazeerah, Al Arabiyah, Pacifica News, NPR, and BBC, the most listened to news service on the planet—few Negroes tune in to the BBC unless they're outside this country.
If you don't listen to Amy Goodman's Democracy Now, one is simply out of the information loop. And where is our Amy Goodman? Oprah?
Where is our African American emergency information hotline? We know we cannot rely on governmental sources of information, nor can we depend on government bootlickers NBC, CBS, ABC, Fox and CNN, agents of misinformation and white racist propaganda.
Baraka has told us to stop thinking like Americans. Americans own ABC, CBS, NBC, et al, we don't—we were too stupid to keep BET. Nevertheless, we can create news sources in the Digital Age, improve and support TBWT and others. We can and must create the necessary radical journals, magazines, and newspapers that reflect the tradition of Freedom's Journal, Garvey's Negro World and Elijah's Muhammad Speaks.
Our publications need not be slick like Ebony, Essence, Vibe—content will make them slick. Remember how eagerly we sought copies of the Crusader by Robert Williams, a little hand sized newsletter that was earthshaking in calling for radical change.
Poets And The Religious Experience
The great mythologist Joseph Campbell taught that religion(s) prevent us from having the religious experience. Religion is basically a code of conduct for the masses, an opiate to keep them under control. I once asked Minister Farakhan why do religions, all religions, make slaves of believers? He simply said we must somehow move to the point that religion is a liberating force rather than an enslaver.
I have written elsewhere (Religion and Revolution) that religion is a road to God, God being the Mountain, so religion is a path up the mountain. Most people need religion because they fear going up the mountain alone, they want someone to hold their hand, to guide them, fearful, they refuse to stand alone and face God butt naked. So religious leaders baby sit them while they read kindergarten books about God, rather than plow up the mountain like a warrior after his enemy, although God is their friend, alas, God is themselves. Martin Luther King, Jr. went up to the mountaintop of himself and saw God in himself and needed to see no more. His work was finished. Somebody get a healing.
The priest, the preacher, the imam does not detour from the holy books, only the poet is fearless enough to go beyond the book into the dark abyss of mystical joy and searching. The priest/preacher/imam is locked in traditional myth and ritual, but the poet kicks down the door of tradition to make himself one with the Divine. By definition, he must transcend the common rites and rituals to experience the metaphysical, the mystical intercourse with God; in his fearlessness, in his search for something new, something extraordinary, he may "walk through the muck and mire of hell," but if he is a true believer, a shaman, he will "come out clean as white fish and black as coal" (quote from James Sweeney, foreword to In the Crazy House Called America by Marvin X).
The University of Poetry must teach spirituality but not religion. Spirituality is being one with God, being God, expressing godliness in all that we do. We are not apart from God, hence there is nothing to learn except to know who we really are. We are in God/ God is in us. There is no separation, no sin, we cannot get out of our God skin, except when we refuse to recognize what we are wearing. We have on an expensive fur coat, but we don't want to recognize it, so the thief comes and steals it off our back and we stand naked in the snow. Of course Jesus taught us sometimes it is better to give the thief your coat and your cloak, for God is still within, closer than our jugular vein, closer than all the blood flowing from head to toe, closer than close, if we recognize.
And we better recognize, in other words, make salat, prayer, as in salute, recognize. But our every move should be salat, not five times a day but all day, every step we step with God consciousness, every move we move in harmony with the Divine flow of the universe. We flow with the flow, whom shall we fear, fear is the counter flow, going against the Divine, against ourselves, the very essence of our being, our godliness or goodness. God is myself, whom shall I fear.
The man told you the only thing to fear is fear itself. Someone asked me why don't I go lead the people. I asked them, "Why don't you go lead the people." You won't do it because you are afraid, shaking in your boots, so you want someone else to do what you should be doing. To hell with you. Lead yourself, stupid! Enough men and women have died for you, die for yourself, or rather, live for yourself and others will follow your example. Just like you're watching me, somebody is watching you, so don't ask me to bear your burden. They say I fought battles I didn't have to fight, so now it's your turn, the ball is in your court, the baton is in your hand, run with it and don't look back. Keep the faith until you win the race!
All religions make slaves of believers, robots who recite myth and enact rituals unto death, thus creating the present situation of savage murder and self annihilation throughout the world in order to fulfill religious precepts, whether Christian White Supremacy or Muslim Fundamentalism. But often ignorance, poverty, and disease take the religious fanatic beyond tradition into the absurd because of hopelessness under authoritarian and fascist oppression, pseudo democracies and barbaric theocracies.
Under such conditions, the oppressed have the human and divine right to overthrow the oppressor by any means necessary, including self-annihilation, to hell with this life, persecution is worse than slaughter, better we perish than suffer oppression for one minute, one day, and we have suffered four hundred years. Why do we even bring slave children into the world, better to abort them than allow them to be fuel for the fires of oppression, to be tricks for the blood suckers of the poor, to go about their daily round deaf, dumb and blind, yes, blind in this world and blind in the hereafter. Wake up and see God, look in the mirror.
Perhaps the poet's insanity can bring about sanity to a world full of religions but devoid of persons enjoying the religious experience. Yes, the power of the poet is such that he can make you cry like you're at your mother's funeral. As a young man I did a production of Baraka’s Dutchman at Fresno State University. I needed a wig for Ethna X. Wyatt (now Hurriyah, queen of Black Arts West Theatre and Black House, San Francisco) to perform the role of the white woman Lula. So I got a local pimp to loan me a wig belonging to one of his sex workers.
The pimp came to the production and when he saw Lula stab Clay to death it rocked his world so much that he gave up pimping and joined the Nation of Islam, later became an Imam under Warith Din Muhammad, even made his haj to Mecca, such is the power of drama. And if the poet cannot move you in this fashion, to this degree, then he is not a poet and most certainly not a shaman, thus you are right to return to the authority of your priest/preacher/imam, and live happily ever after, deaf, dumb and blind to your divinity and eternity.
Poet As Shaman
The poet as shaman is a visionary who sees with his third eye, his spiritual eye. A people who don’t support their poets and other artists will get no prophecy and see no visions, Baraka said long ago. But the poet as shaman is in this world but not of this world. He is simultaneously in harmony with nature and beyond nature. He is in harmony with the trees, rivers, oceans, mountains, valleys, sun, moon, and stars. He is in harmony with the bees, birds, dogs, cows, and horses, even the flies. He knows and understands the flies. When flies bug him in the house, he knows they are telling him to let them out, so he opens the door for them to exit rather than kill them with the swatter.
He demands freedom for himself and all human beings, men and women. He must be free to think, to imagine the impossible, to create new thoughts, new configurations of society that are healthy and wholesome rather than destructive and demoralizing, inhibiting self development and transformation. For example, is the concept of marriage functional in the new age? Fifty per cent of the marriages end in divorce, pretty sad odds. Maybe we need to take a look at the concept and consider a reconfiguration that will make relationships more lasting and not full of sorrow, pain, and suffering, but happiness and joy.
We must look at the system of justice and envision a better way. Why should millions be imprisoned for petty crimes while the filthy rich plunder the world beyond the arm of justice. How shall the world disarm and arrest such global criminals for polluting the environment and pimping the poor unto death in the name of free trade, free slavery?
So it is the duty of the poet /shaman to think of ways out of this morass of suffering and injustice. He must conjure words that liberate the human spirit, inspire people to dream the impossible, to unite for the common good rather than selfish desires. The poet/shaman must force people to give up their fears, doubts and inferior complexes created by the social oppression of centuries. He must make the people feel good about themselves because he has given them knowledge, wisdom, and the appreciation of beauty and truth.
Music and Poetry
Sun Ra said, “Marvin, don’t you know armies march to music?” Of course they do, and music can kill, music can heal. When my driver suffered a mental breakdown, Sun Ra sent the brother an album and he got better. Music is therapy, and for black people it is truly their only therapist, they refuse any other doctor, maybe except doctor feel-good, as Aretha sang.
Music was an essential part of the BAM, coast to coast. Baraka had Sun Ra, the Aylers, Archie Shepp, Pharaoh Sanders, Milford Graves, Don Pullins. On the West Coast we had Dewey Redman, Raphael Donald Garrett, Monte Waters, BJ, Earl Davis, Oliver Johnson, and later Bobby Hutcherson, Sun Ra, Juju with Babatunde Lea and Plunky. In Chicago they had the Art Ensemble and Phil Corans Afro-Arts Theatre.
Today I am blessed to perform with Destiny (harp), Tarika (violin) and Tacuma (djembe and other instruments), and I detest performing without them. Yes, their “new age” sounds are healing for me, if no one else. Physician heal thyself.
We know music affects our central nervous system, calming us down or hyping us into a stupor. The culture police worry about the affect of lyrics on youth, but some youth informed me they pay no attention to the lyrics, only the beat, so perhaps the culture police should turn their attention away from the so-called disgusting lyrics and consider the beats and their effect on the mentality of youth. It’s the beats that have them bobbing and weaving like palm trees in the wind.
So I want music that can soothe the wild beast and transform the beast into a soldier for the cultural revolution. The BAM, revolution also had Coltrane’s A Love Supreme and My Favorite Things, Eric Dolphy’s Round Midnight, Mile’s Kind of Blue, and Nina talking plenty shit, but music, not techno music, live music that brought us alive and made us challenge the evil powers. Today the music is fostering the state of Yakubism, perpetuating violence and negative thinking, instead of healing sounds that liberate us mentally and physically. See the great Sufi master Hazrat Khan on music and sound.
We know there are only so many rhythms and each one has a different effect on the heart or central nervous system. Vudun, Santeria, Condomble all have rhythms to call forth the gods or spirits, each with a different purpose for each devotee, who only responds to a particular god’s rhythm or drum beat. But we’re dancing to beats about which we know nothing, except they make us feel good, meanwhile they are destroying our central nervous system, causing us to have a mental breakdown, yes, as we go down funky!
Ain’t it funky now. I didn’t say James Brown wasn’t healing!
The poet must integrate his healing words with healing music, and don’t forget the dancer who can translate our poetry into body language to help make the poem plain. Work that magic Raynetta Rayzetta! Elijah said, “I am only after the plainest way to get truth to my people. Poetry is a science.” So we want to make it so plain a fool can understand, the blind can see and the deaf can hear.
Poetics of Yakubism
The poetry genre “rap” must be examined from the reference point of the Muslim myth of Yakub, the mad scientist who created the white man through genetic engineering. (See Elijah Muhammad’s Message to the Black Man and Amiri Baraka’s play A BLACK MASS.) Yakub discovered the magnetic attraction of playing with two pieces of steel.
Hip Hop youth are fond of playing with steel, especially the gangsta rappers and their devotees. They repeatedly rap about gun violence, apparently have a fixation with weapons of steel, thus we call them Yakub’s children. Now the previous generation played with knives, so we were Yakubites as well. But our guns were mainly for hunting animals. Today’s Yakubites hunt each other. Often it is not about dope or sex, simply boredom, as some youth told me, “Man, when we bored, we put on our bulletproof vests, get our uzis and ride through the hood shootin nigguhs.” Are we not worse than the KKK? At least they don’t shoot each other!
Cars reflect the Yakub syndrome. Youth drive at high speed through city streets, killing innocent people while doing donuts and other tricks with their steel toys. And Yakub’s children can be seen playing in the streets while 2,000 pounds of steel is coming at them.
And they refuse to move as if the steel can stop on a dime. The children will walk right into the steel, fearless in the face of certain death, and will curse you for blowing your horn to warn them to get their ignut asses out of the street.
Of course, we must look at the teachers of Yakub’s children, America, the number one gun merchant of the world, who also supplies guns to Yakub’s children in the hoods of America, along with dope to destabilize the community. Gangsta rap adds fuel to the fire, with lyrics and videos praising violence, if only verbal violence, against brothers and sisters, reducing women to sex objects and parading them in prostitute garb.
In ancient times, the Yakubites were banned from the holy land, exiled in the hills and caves of Europa. As punishment for playing with steel, we may need to banish the modern Yakubites, unless they are willing to enter recovery and become civilized, renouncing urban savagery, whether poetic or real.
Poetics and Psycholinguistics
We are speaking here of the relationship between the mind and language. Sometimes words have us in such a tizzy we can’t think straight. We are so confused about the word nigguh we can’t engage in civil conversation about the term. And the irony is that no matter what we think about it, the term is now in worldwide usage with the multi-cultural hip hop generation. The word nigguh is literally making billions of dollars, yet the nigguhs are often mortally afraid of the term, as they are afraid of themselves, generally.
True, its origin conjures the most despicable aspects of American history and culture, yet language is in constant flux, taking on new meanings or connotations, so it is culturally lagging to remain fixated on the denotation of a word that has been transformed into something positive rather than negative. Get over it, nigguh ain’t going nowhere soon, unless we stop speaking English. It is one of the most powerful words in American English with multiple meanings, depending on tone, stress and speaker. It can get you killed or get you in bed with your lover. It is a word that comes from the depths of slavery but its current usage indicates the slave’s language is superior to the master’s.
For all his effort to make it a term of debasement, it is now a term of love and appreciation, as in “You my nigguh.” And this can be said between two white persons, Latinos, Asians, or whomever. Negro speech is but another aspect of our culture that is co-opted by world culture, over which we have absolutely no control. Do we control Blues, Jazz, or Rap for that matter? And now poetry is being pimped by slams and def jams. We understand there is a poetry war in Los Angeles between the conscious poets and the dead head slam poets.
While we believe in freedom of speech, we must push for poetry that moves history forward, not treading water in the personal, but reaching out to arouse political consciousness in a people who amble about like dead men walking. Imagine, there is no black representation in the California State legislature above Bakersfield. This is a pitiful situation that reflects the apolitical nature of the times and poets must break the spell with word magic.
On another point, I maintain there are no profane or obscene words, only profane and obscene actions. Saying motherfucker is in no way equal to being a mother fucker. Words are the tool of poets, writers, so just as Picasso would not limit himself to certain colors, no poet is going to limit his language except in context. Words only have relevance in context.
If we are writing for polite society, we might use Miller Lite language. But if we are describing or recreating language of the hood, we use Old English 800 terminology, some ass kicking shit.
Writers/poets must have freedom of speech. We cannot be held hostage to the culture police whether they are phony black bourgeoisie, religious or radical purists, all of whom can be found using the most vile language when it suits them, usually in anger and rage. A friend who abhors the term bitch, recently informed me she called her son a bitch in anger and rage at his juvenile behavior. So the culture police are at the very least hypocritical, and most certainly ignorant of the complex function of language, or is it simply denial, again context: it’s proper and improper depending on the moment.
Baraka jammed me one night in New York for using profanity in the presence of his wife, who quite frequently uses profanity, especially in describing and communicating with her husband. But I was horrified that the motherfucker who taught me how to say motherfucker had flipped on me and was telling me to shut up. Yes, this is the man whose poetics freed us psycholinguistically during the 60s. What poet or playwright wasn’t influenced by The Dutchman? Perhaps Baraka has become conservative, but again, words are valid in context, and even now when he wants to say motherfucker he doesn’t hesitate to include it in a poem or in conversation.
I find it very strange when the culture police tell me not to use certain language because children are present, yet, the children use more gutter language that myself, Baraka and Shakespeare together. Yes, the old bard was raw when the occasion called for it.
Now if we want to talk about a new language, it would be the language of silence, yes, don’t read my lips, but read my mind. I can read yours. I know what you’re thinking, so be silent. Why is it necessary to yap endlessly day and night, especially when you have no idea what you’re saying, you’re simply masturbating at the mouth. Words are extensions of our mind, so let’s go to the deep structure and read minds. You don’t need to call me on the phone because I already know what you’re thinking, and you know what’s on my mind. Silencia por favor.
Poetic Sexuality
Sex is the gasoline that fuels the poetic engine. After climax, the poet can get up and write all nite. He is energized, although he may never get enough, a delusion of his addictive personality. He is addicted to beauty and truth, often both of them come in the form of the opposite sex.
But normal sex is not good enough. The worse thing in the world to tell the poet is to be normal. “Why don’t you act like normal people?” The last thing on earth he wants to be is normal. Now if you want a normal motherfucker, get yo square ass away from the poet person. He is the natural born freak. He wants more and a variety thereof. If you think he will ever be satisfied with only you, you are dumber than the dumbest mule let out of Georgia. Not only does he love beauty and truth, but the more beauty and truth the better.
Even if you are the most beautiful woman in the world, the poet looks at you thinking it would be even more beautiful if there were two of you taking care of me. Church!
No one should ever approach the poet with the idea he should do anything normal, for he dwells in the abnormal, the different, just to be different. He is sexually insatiable, just to be insatiable, simply because in your simple mindedness you think he should be satisfied.
He purposely must fuck with you, go beyond your normal thoughts, so that you never consider him on such a lowly plain—in his warped mind.
And yet, there comes a woman who takes him beyond sex into the love zone, although in the deep structure of his mind, he is in love with poetry. Poetry is his lover, just as Duke Ellington said, “Music is my mistress.”
Believe it or not, he is ultimately asexual, caring nothing for sex, especially if it interferes with his creativity. Was it Emerson who said, “I would write on the lentils of a door post.”?
His sheets are full of ink from pens he left uncapped after falling asleep writing in bed. He is funky, refusing to bathe after writing for days. And he is the supreme distant lover, never, ever, never, ever there. Look into his eyes, but he is not there, his mind is lost in a poem, while his lover chats endlessly about their relationship and what a commitment means to her, as if he gives a fuck about what she’s running off at the mouth about in her utter seriousness that means absolutely nothing to him. He is lost in poetic dreamland, where he lives 24/7 and most likely where he will die, graciously. It doesn’t matter if you have been with him four years or thirty-four years, the net result is the same, so you either love the man ya wit or get yo ass on—whatever ya do, don’t think ya gonna change baby boy cause it ain’t that kinna party. Love him for what he is and where he is: in the poetic dreamland where he lives and where his heart is at in peace, and where no one but God can penetrate. Church! So now you know, poets are crazy motherfuckers.
The Poetics of Love
Love is the grand theme of poetry, all other themes pale in comparison because love is at the heart and soul of every poet. Of course love of the opposite sex is often a metaphor for Divine love. And what is hate except a heart crying out for love, so love is the question and the answer, the problem and the solution. How often do we hear young poets crying in their poems about what love has or hasn’t done to them, and old poets as well, so poets must go deep down into the sea of love and write from there the poems of eternity, even political poems are rooted in love of justice, truth and peace, but love is the motivator, love for a new day beyond the white night of oppression and human misery, love, even when love is impossible the thought is ever present to have the experience, the joy.
Now of course poets sometimes find themselves full of love, so full they take it for granted, after picking all the lilies in the field, and the lilies seem to come a poet’s way with each poem recited. Want to win the soul of a beautiful woman, read her a poem that touches her heart strings and she will melt into your arms, even break into tears at the beauty of your words, and even you will be shocked at the power of poetry, so try not to abuse these divine words that spring from the fountain of eternity like a well placed before you by God Himself, so never think you are self sufficient, this idea is the stuff of classic tragedy, Shakespeare’s dramas are full of men and women who thought too much of themselves, beyond themselves, so they fell into disgrace and shame. And they wondered what happened to love.
University of Poetry and Basic Education
Finally, the University of Poetry is for all brothers and sisters who can't learn anywhere else, who might be teachable with the spoken word. We know they can learn, perhaps the failure has been methodology, insincere teachers and administrators. We want the University of Poetry to be a place students are taught with love, patience and understanding. We know Johnny and Johnnymae can learn. Johnny sells dope, thus he's a salesman. He weighs and measures dope, so he knows math. He cooks dope, so he is a chemist. He packages dope, so he deals with marketing and promotion. Johnny can learn. He has look outs, so he deals with security. He keeps the count right on pain of death, so he knows bookkeeping. Johnny can learn. He has a baby and a baby mama, so he deals with responsibility. Johnny can learn. Let's teach him at the University of Poetry.
Let's make one thing perfectly clear: the University of Poetry is not about freedom, rather discipline, discipline, discipline, in the spirit of our dearly departed master teacher Sun Ra, mystic, musician, philosopher, poet, mythologist, ritualist of the Black Arts Movement. Long live Master Teacher Sun Ra!
Funding the University of Poetry
In conclusion, lack of a stable economic base caused the fall of the Black Arts Movement,, aside from its alignment with the liberation movement and the government's orchestrated attack on the overall freedom struggle. The University of Poetry can and must be sustained by the people, not by the whims of governmental and corporate funders, although we have a right to such funds because they are derived from tax dollars. But we must be self sustaining and beyond censorship, independent, including beyond the slimy fingers of the black culture police. If the dead head rappers and poets don't want to join the revolution, they can make donations and be sponsors. They should not have a profit motive: the revolution is not for profit. Bacon said, "Truth will not make you rich, but it will make you free." As-Salaam-Alaikum.
University of Poetry National Tour
We want to take the University of Poetry on a national tour of twenty-seven major cities to perform with legends of the Black Arts Movement, and hip hop conscious poets, also to conduct workshops as described above, establishing a University of Poetry in each community. We must produce journals, newspapers, magazines, books, videos, films, CDs in each community to advance the cultural revolution. The tour should have an executive committee and a local organizing committee that will help raise the necessary funds for each community and do the outreach, marketing, promotion, and logistics.
Budget for the National Tour is estimated @ $100,000 per city for a total of $2,700,000. If you would like to help sponsor this tour or would like to make a generous donation. Email me at mrvnx@yahoo.com.
___________________________
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Pope says Native Americans yearned for slaughter, disease and slavery
The Pope clearly needs to enter my 12 Step program to recover from the addiction to white supremacy since he insisted that the Native people in the Americas yearned for Christianity, even though it was presented to them accompanied by slaughter, disease and slavery. It is estimated that 90% of the native Americans fell victim not to European guns but diseases.
In his classic Race and Culture Contacts in the Modern World, E. Franklin Frazier discussed the devastation of white European diseases on native people around the world who were colonized.
But for the Pope to suggest the native peoples yearned for Christianity was taken as an insult when he visited Brazil recently. He has yet to apologize.
The Pope clearly needs to enter my 12 Step program to recover from the addiction to white supremacy since he insisted that the Native people in the Americas yearned for Christianity, even though it was presented to them accompanied by slaughter, disease and slavery. It is estimated that 90% of the native Americans fell victim not to European guns but diseases.
In his classic Race and Culture Contacts in the Modern World, E. Franklin Frazier discussed the devastation of white European diseases on native people around the world who were colonized.
But for the Pope to suggest the native peoples yearned for Christianity was taken as an insult when he visited Brazil recently. He has yet to apologize.
Essays On Spirituality: Street Violence, Partner Violence and Pimpin
Essays on Spirituality: Street Violence, Partner Violence and Pimpin
By Marvin X
from Beyond Religion, Toward Spirituality,
essays on consciousness, Marvin X, Black Bird Press,
281 pages, 2007.
"When you kill your brother you kill yourself."—Abdul James
Black on black violence is a hate crime and should qualify for the death penalty. If a black man kills a white man, it will more than likely be a hate crime, but the killing of a black by a black is nothing—two or three years the killer is back on the street to continue his savagery.
Violence in the hood is causing the complete destabilization of our community, yet it is not totally a criminal or even economic matter but at its root is a spiritual disease in the hearts of mostly young black men and lately women.
Some of the killing is ritual murder for gang membership, including homosexual acts upon the victim followed by murder. Such activity has roots in decadent and demonic spirituality.
Sadly, the gangs are often the only family youth have known. Often there is no mother, no father, no hug a thug from the preacher, teacher, artists or politicians—thus many youth have become cold blooded killers, not by choice but by societal design.
Of course economics plays a role since the dope man is the number one employer of youth in the black community coast to coast. And the drug economy feeds directly into the prison industry where the youth are housed at thirty to fifty thousand dollars per inmate per year, and there are two million currently imprisoned, mostly for drug related crimes, including violence.
The societal costs are staggering in terms of education, family stability, and community progress. But how can we expect young black men to resolve their problems non violently when the American government spends half a trillion dollars annually to spread violence around the world. The youth watch TV now and then; they know what's going on in Iraq and Afghanistan. They know America has troops around the world in its sham terrorism war. They know America is a gang of thieves, liars, and murderers in suits and ties.
The same guns used abroad are used at home in the hoods of black America, and of course black people have gun factories and drug factories, don't we?
But no one can make us kill if we have the mind-set not to kill, if we put on the armor of God and express God consciousness rather than animal consciousness, devil consciousness that makes us desire to take a brother out at the glance of an eye.
We are now doing the job of the KKK. Youth have told me when they get bored they get their guns, get in their cars and ride through the hood killing nigguhs.
We fulfill the Willie Lynch letter or as I say, we are Yacub's children playing with steel: guns and cars. Spiritual consciousness is the only way out of our morass—fa salli lirabbika: so pray to your Lord.
Why are you not angry at the white man, surely he has wronged you worse than your black brother. But you dare not touch the white man in your cowardice and punkism.
You are ready to kill your brother if he looks at your woman, but why you got her out with the crack of her behind showing? We know you angry because daddy was never there, and maybe mama wasn't either. Get over it, accept the pain—it's called growing up. What did Langston Hughes say, "Life ain't been no crystal stair." Ain't been paradise for none of us, not in 400 years.
Embrace your brother with love. There is no other way. This is a thinking man's game. See the film Animal. You must think your way out of this madness.
Partner Violence and Spirituality
By Marvin X
"I beat her because she loved me."— mx
Any semblance of partner or domestic violence is antithetical to spirituality. No person who beats another can claim spiritual consciousness, rather they should claim animal consciousness. And no matter what any scripture says, I say domestic violence or partner violence must be outlawed totally and absolutely, no matter where it exists anywhere on the planet earth, simply because it does no good whatsoever, and ultimately drains the sand out the hour glass of love and respect between human beings.
It has a traumatic effect on the mate and children, thus it must be avoided at all cost. To beat another human being is the height of savagery and men, in particular, must rise above savagery and step up to their divinity.
I speak as one who was such a savage and it was all to no avail. In the end, the sand was indeed drained out of the hour glass of love and respect. I subjected my family to great pain, literally, and suffering, and many times it was due to my altered state of mind, i.e., drugs and alcohol. Too much domestic and partner violence is initiated when one or both partners are in an altered state of mind, so we must be advised to check yourself before you wreck yourself. You know the ritual: even before the first drink someone is angry, then the drink, then another and another until the wrong word is said and its on. But the alcohol was the devil who forced up old issues that were supposedly resolved, old pain, wounds, treachery, sexual improprieties, money, anything, even jealousy between mates, or some other evil thought or suggestion due to the altered state of mind. Yes, loose lip sink ships, and we can be very loose with the devil juice or some other drug that diminishes any possibility of anger management.
Before we know, what started out as a beautiful evening turns into a nightmare: blood is flowing, bones broken, police in the house, somebody goes to jail, another goes to the hospital or morgue, children are taken to child protective services. The mental damage is irreparable.
I wrote a play (In the Name of Love) about my madness which my ex-wife and daughter came to see. After the play my daughter asked me why did I need to tell all that stuff about how I beat her mother. I told her it was for the healing of myself and the community.
Years later I gave a reading and my ex-wife was there. A poet requested I read the poem about domestic violence (Confession of An Ex-wife Beater, see Dr. Julia Hare's How to Find A BWM, chapter, The Violent Male) that was in the play. At first I resisted because the poem had been in the play that my wife and daughter had seen, and since my ex had come to the reading to support me, I certainly didn't want to upset her. But the poet insisted I read the poem, so I did. And it did indeed upset my ex--when we got to her house, she claimed she'd never heard the poem before. I couldn't convince her that she had, and furthermore, she said I had never apologized for beating her, so I apologized, and of course it ruined our evening since her suppressed memory was jolted. But some healing occurred so I thank the poet for forcing me to read the poem, Lamont Steptoe.
We can't imagine what we do to each others psyche with partner violence, let alone what it does to us physically. And things go from bad to worse, so if we don't' get started we won't need to stop.
I suggest therapy at the first sign of physical violence because it is possible to save relationships with therapy before police or relatives intervene.
Dr. Nathan Hare suggests couples need not break up due to violence, but I say it is unacceptable and must not occur for one moment because things go from bad to worse, and certainly, people professing spiritual consciousness must be above physical abuse, although emotional and verbal abuse is just as bad.
We are a people in need of much healing before we can come together, far too many times we come together and don't know a damn thing about each other, then all hell breaks loose, we discover we're in the house with a monster, a devil, a beast. Then we have babies by the monster, the beast. And it's possible we're both monsters, neither one can claim a clean bill of health.
But let us renounce violence at the outset, then proceed to process the emotional issues, since we know we come together far from a state of divinity and have much healing work to do before we can claim spirituality.
Pimpin and Spirituality
By Marvin X
I am not a pimp. I am a hustler, sometimes a trick. A hustler waits for no one to bring his money, he gets his own. It is beneath his dignity to wait or depend on a woman or anyone to get his hustle going. All he needs is product, almost anything will do, even a roll of toilet paper he can hustle. But the pimp's thing is women, he considers himself their manager and they consider him the same, usually by mutual agreement, often by torture, kidnapping and exploitation, including mind control, deprivation of sleep, food and isolation.
Having never been a pimp, I cannot speak with total authority, although I have been around pimps off and on my entire life, from growing up on 7th Street in Oakland to hanging with pimps in New York. My brother's claim to fame is pimping. He never desired anything else in life but pimping, as a result his life has been pimping and prison, nothing else. I have been deprived of his brotherly love because of his pimping and prison life.
Many of my friends were pimps, including some of my Muslim brothers who said they made their ho's make salat or prayer before they went out on the stroll. I was around Muslim pimps on the east coast who had their women selling bean pies and whoring to buy Crack.
More recently I had the pleasure of meeting several pimps-in-recovery at my theatre in San Francisco's Tenderloin district when we produced the Black Radical Book Fair in 2004. The pimps included Fillmore Slim, Gansta Brown, Jimmy Starr and Rosebud Bitterdose. They claim to have given up pimpin and have indeed written books and films on the gospel of the game.
In the case of Fillmore Slim, he is still greatly respected as the godfather of pimpin, especially on the West coast. He hooked up with me to see if I could help him get the message to young people that pimpin ain't easy and there's a price to be in the game. If you willing to pay the price, then go for it, but just know you are going to pay. Fillmore paid with several prison terms.
He says these young brothers call themselves pimpin but ain't hardly pimpin, ain't doing nothing but messin up the game. Don't have no style, no class. If you saw the BET awards last night, Prince was the only artist with class, the others looked like bums and derelicts, especially the hip hop brothers. As Fillmore said about young pimps, they don't know how to dress. And he said they most certainly don't know how to treat a lady. They want to beat women. He said they don't understand if they don't beat her, she might come back. They want to kill another nigguh if she runs off with him. This ain't part of the game. Don't be killing people, he said, like you own the woman. You don't own nobody. When she choose you, she with you, when she choose somebody else, let her go. Fillmore said these young nigguhs act like they in love. And keep a night job, he says, because pimpin ain't easy.
Young brothers so close up on the ho a trick can't get to her. And the nigguh look more like a woman than the woman. You don't know who to turn a date with, the pimp or the ho. He got earrings in both ears, blond hair and pants hangin off his behind, living at his mama's house, pimpin on a bicycle. Nigguh please.
Pimp like Bush. Get you a real ho like Condi Rice that can ho all over the world, that can serve presidents, prime ministers, generals. Dr. Bey used to say, "If you going to do something, do it in a big way." Some would say Dr. Bey did right and wrong in a big way (may he rest in peace). And my daddy said, "If you gonna be something, be the best."
The white man is the world's greatest pimp: he pimpin you and yo woman, but you don't have a clue. On BET last night he pimped some of our greatest artists, had them parading as nothing but naked whores.
Nigguh pimps got babies on the street, eleven, twelve and thirteen. What they know about ho'in? They don't know how to put a rubber on a nigguh, let alone give head. They need to be in school. Get their GED. And the pimp needs to go with them to get his. Imagine the social consequences of over a million children dropping out of school each year, over 50% of them. Society, including the school, the religious community and the politicians are responsible for children choosing the pimp life, especially when our nation needs scientists and engineers if we are to have a future beyond pimpin and whoring.
By Marvin X
from Beyond Religion, Toward Spirituality,
essays on consciousness, Marvin X, Black Bird Press,
281 pages, 2007.
"When you kill your brother you kill yourself."—Abdul James
Black on black violence is a hate crime and should qualify for the death penalty. If a black man kills a white man, it will more than likely be a hate crime, but the killing of a black by a black is nothing—two or three years the killer is back on the street to continue his savagery.
Violence in the hood is causing the complete destabilization of our community, yet it is not totally a criminal or even economic matter but at its root is a spiritual disease in the hearts of mostly young black men and lately women.
Some of the killing is ritual murder for gang membership, including homosexual acts upon the victim followed by murder. Such activity has roots in decadent and demonic spirituality.
Sadly, the gangs are often the only family youth have known. Often there is no mother, no father, no hug a thug from the preacher, teacher, artists or politicians—thus many youth have become cold blooded killers, not by choice but by societal design.
Of course economics plays a role since the dope man is the number one employer of youth in the black community coast to coast. And the drug economy feeds directly into the prison industry where the youth are housed at thirty to fifty thousand dollars per inmate per year, and there are two million currently imprisoned, mostly for drug related crimes, including violence.
The societal costs are staggering in terms of education, family stability, and community progress. But how can we expect young black men to resolve their problems non violently when the American government spends half a trillion dollars annually to spread violence around the world. The youth watch TV now and then; they know what's going on in Iraq and Afghanistan. They know America has troops around the world in its sham terrorism war. They know America is a gang of thieves, liars, and murderers in suits and ties.
The same guns used abroad are used at home in the hoods of black America, and of course black people have gun factories and drug factories, don't we?
But no one can make us kill if we have the mind-set not to kill, if we put on the armor of God and express God consciousness rather than animal consciousness, devil consciousness that makes us desire to take a brother out at the glance of an eye.
We are now doing the job of the KKK. Youth have told me when they get bored they get their guns, get in their cars and ride through the hood killing nigguhs.
We fulfill the Willie Lynch letter or as I say, we are Yacub's children playing with steel: guns and cars. Spiritual consciousness is the only way out of our morass—fa salli lirabbika: so pray to your Lord.
Why are you not angry at the white man, surely he has wronged you worse than your black brother. But you dare not touch the white man in your cowardice and punkism.
You are ready to kill your brother if he looks at your woman, but why you got her out with the crack of her behind showing? We know you angry because daddy was never there, and maybe mama wasn't either. Get over it, accept the pain—it's called growing up. What did Langston Hughes say, "Life ain't been no crystal stair." Ain't been paradise for none of us, not in 400 years.
Embrace your brother with love. There is no other way. This is a thinking man's game. See the film Animal. You must think your way out of this madness.
Partner Violence and Spirituality
By Marvin X
"I beat her because she loved me."— mx
Any semblance of partner or domestic violence is antithetical to spirituality. No person who beats another can claim spiritual consciousness, rather they should claim animal consciousness. And no matter what any scripture says, I say domestic violence or partner violence must be outlawed totally and absolutely, no matter where it exists anywhere on the planet earth, simply because it does no good whatsoever, and ultimately drains the sand out the hour glass of love and respect between human beings.
It has a traumatic effect on the mate and children, thus it must be avoided at all cost. To beat another human being is the height of savagery and men, in particular, must rise above savagery and step up to their divinity.
I speak as one who was such a savage and it was all to no avail. In the end, the sand was indeed drained out of the hour glass of love and respect. I subjected my family to great pain, literally, and suffering, and many times it was due to my altered state of mind, i.e., drugs and alcohol. Too much domestic and partner violence is initiated when one or both partners are in an altered state of mind, so we must be advised to check yourself before you wreck yourself. You know the ritual: even before the first drink someone is angry, then the drink, then another and another until the wrong word is said and its on. But the alcohol was the devil who forced up old issues that were supposedly resolved, old pain, wounds, treachery, sexual improprieties, money, anything, even jealousy between mates, or some other evil thought or suggestion due to the altered state of mind. Yes, loose lip sink ships, and we can be very loose with the devil juice or some other drug that diminishes any possibility of anger management.
Before we know, what started out as a beautiful evening turns into a nightmare: blood is flowing, bones broken, police in the house, somebody goes to jail, another goes to the hospital or morgue, children are taken to child protective services. The mental damage is irreparable.
I wrote a play (In the Name of Love) about my madness which my ex-wife and daughter came to see. After the play my daughter asked me why did I need to tell all that stuff about how I beat her mother. I told her it was for the healing of myself and the community.
Years later I gave a reading and my ex-wife was there. A poet requested I read the poem about domestic violence (Confession of An Ex-wife Beater, see Dr. Julia Hare's How to Find A BWM, chapter, The Violent Male) that was in the play. At first I resisted because the poem had been in the play that my wife and daughter had seen, and since my ex had come to the reading to support me, I certainly didn't want to upset her. But the poet insisted I read the poem, so I did. And it did indeed upset my ex--when we got to her house, she claimed she'd never heard the poem before. I couldn't convince her that she had, and furthermore, she said I had never apologized for beating her, so I apologized, and of course it ruined our evening since her suppressed memory was jolted. But some healing occurred so I thank the poet for forcing me to read the poem, Lamont Steptoe.
We can't imagine what we do to each others psyche with partner violence, let alone what it does to us physically. And things go from bad to worse, so if we don't' get started we won't need to stop.
I suggest therapy at the first sign of physical violence because it is possible to save relationships with therapy before police or relatives intervene.
Dr. Nathan Hare suggests couples need not break up due to violence, but I say it is unacceptable and must not occur for one moment because things go from bad to worse, and certainly, people professing spiritual consciousness must be above physical abuse, although emotional and verbal abuse is just as bad.
We are a people in need of much healing before we can come together, far too many times we come together and don't know a damn thing about each other, then all hell breaks loose, we discover we're in the house with a monster, a devil, a beast. Then we have babies by the monster, the beast. And it's possible we're both monsters, neither one can claim a clean bill of health.
But let us renounce violence at the outset, then proceed to process the emotional issues, since we know we come together far from a state of divinity and have much healing work to do before we can claim spirituality.
Pimpin and Spirituality
By Marvin X
I am not a pimp. I am a hustler, sometimes a trick. A hustler waits for no one to bring his money, he gets his own. It is beneath his dignity to wait or depend on a woman or anyone to get his hustle going. All he needs is product, almost anything will do, even a roll of toilet paper he can hustle. But the pimp's thing is women, he considers himself their manager and they consider him the same, usually by mutual agreement, often by torture, kidnapping and exploitation, including mind control, deprivation of sleep, food and isolation.
Having never been a pimp, I cannot speak with total authority, although I have been around pimps off and on my entire life, from growing up on 7th Street in Oakland to hanging with pimps in New York. My brother's claim to fame is pimping. He never desired anything else in life but pimping, as a result his life has been pimping and prison, nothing else. I have been deprived of his brotherly love because of his pimping and prison life.
Many of my friends were pimps, including some of my Muslim brothers who said they made their ho's make salat or prayer before they went out on the stroll. I was around Muslim pimps on the east coast who had their women selling bean pies and whoring to buy Crack.
More recently I had the pleasure of meeting several pimps-in-recovery at my theatre in San Francisco's Tenderloin district when we produced the Black Radical Book Fair in 2004. The pimps included Fillmore Slim, Gansta Brown, Jimmy Starr and Rosebud Bitterdose. They claim to have given up pimpin and have indeed written books and films on the gospel of the game.
In the case of Fillmore Slim, he is still greatly respected as the godfather of pimpin, especially on the West coast. He hooked up with me to see if I could help him get the message to young people that pimpin ain't easy and there's a price to be in the game. If you willing to pay the price, then go for it, but just know you are going to pay. Fillmore paid with several prison terms.
He says these young brothers call themselves pimpin but ain't hardly pimpin, ain't doing nothing but messin up the game. Don't have no style, no class. If you saw the BET awards last night, Prince was the only artist with class, the others looked like bums and derelicts, especially the hip hop brothers. As Fillmore said about young pimps, they don't know how to dress. And he said they most certainly don't know how to treat a lady. They want to beat women. He said they don't understand if they don't beat her, she might come back. They want to kill another nigguh if she runs off with him. This ain't part of the game. Don't be killing people, he said, like you own the woman. You don't own nobody. When she choose you, she with you, when she choose somebody else, let her go. Fillmore said these young nigguhs act like they in love. And keep a night job, he says, because pimpin ain't easy.
Young brothers so close up on the ho a trick can't get to her. And the nigguh look more like a woman than the woman. You don't know who to turn a date with, the pimp or the ho. He got earrings in both ears, blond hair and pants hangin off his behind, living at his mama's house, pimpin on a bicycle. Nigguh please.
Pimp like Bush. Get you a real ho like Condi Rice that can ho all over the world, that can serve presidents, prime ministers, generals. Dr. Bey used to say, "If you going to do something, do it in a big way." Some would say Dr. Bey did right and wrong in a big way (may he rest in peace). And my daddy said, "If you gonna be something, be the best."
The white man is the world's greatest pimp: he pimpin you and yo woman, but you don't have a clue. On BET last night he pimped some of our greatest artists, had them parading as nothing but naked whores.
Nigguh pimps got babies on the street, eleven, twelve and thirteen. What they know about ho'in? They don't know how to put a rubber on a nigguh, let alone give head. They need to be in school. Get their GED. And the pimp needs to go with them to get his. Imagine the social consequences of over a million children dropping out of school each year, over 50% of them. Society, including the school, the religious community and the politicians are responsible for children choosing the pimp life, especially when our nation needs scientists and engineers if we are to have a future beyond pimpin and whoring.
New York, New York
New York, New York the big apple with attitude
If I lived in this rat hole
I would have attitude
but I would be humble
not arrogant
after nine eleven
you ain't all that and a bag of chips
you got two black eyes
ain't no gansta to me
just a big chump
lookin fa a fight
throw in da towel
new york new york
riker's island is full
broadway is clean
homeless tucked away in the bronx
neo-colonials invade harlem, brooklyn
diaspora Africans are pimped, yeah,
like nappy headed hos.
but you got attitude
new york new york
better be humble
with two black eyes
yo skyline naked
merchant bloodsuckers
of the poor, the righteous
come up from slavery
the wall street mart
hit 13000
so what so what
34 down at Virginia Tech
200 down in Iraq
Baldwin told you
murder of my child
will not make your child safe.
new york new york
funky apple
racoon
get some manners
mexicans say
por favor por favor
you never heard please
only attitude with funk
don't nobody owe you nothing
cause you in da big apple
riding subways in a rat hole
goin nowhere fast
get a life
new york new york
don't say same thing twice.
--Marvin X
Brooklyn
4/26/07
New York, New York the big apple with attitude
If I lived in this rat hole
I would have attitude
but I would be humble
not arrogant
after nine eleven
you ain't all that and a bag of chips
you got two black eyes
ain't no gansta to me
just a big chump
lookin fa a fight
throw in da towel
new york new york
riker's island is full
broadway is clean
homeless tucked away in the bronx
neo-colonials invade harlem, brooklyn
diaspora Africans are pimped, yeah,
like nappy headed hos.
but you got attitude
new york new york
better be humble
with two black eyes
yo skyline naked
merchant bloodsuckers
of the poor, the righteous
come up from slavery
the wall street mart
hit 13000
so what so what
34 down at Virginia Tech
200 down in Iraq
Baldwin told you
murder of my child
will not make your child safe.
new york new york
funky apple
racoon
get some manners
mexicans say
por favor por favor
you never heard please
only attitude with funk
don't nobody owe you nothing
cause you in da big apple
riding subways in a rat hole
goin nowhere fast
get a life
new york new york
don't say same thing twice.
--Marvin X
Brooklyn
4/26/07
Poem: What If
WHAT IF
By Marvin X
What if there was no God but God
No Allah Jesus Jehovah Buddha Marx Lenin Jah Damballah
What if there was no God but God
No religion but God
No Muslim, Christian, Jew, Buddhist, Hindu
No God but God
No Baptist Sunni Shiite Zionist Hebrew Communist Sikh Catholic God in Christ
Methodist Sufi
Atheist
No God but God
No woman man child grandmother grandfather uncle aunt
No God but God
No holiday except everyday was holy day
No Sabbath but everyday no Juma’a but everyday
No prayin but all day
All day we say nothing but No God but God
No more Bible Qur’an Torah
No God but God
No talk conversation no sermon no speech no words but silence and
NO God but God
No moaning no laughing
No God but God
No talk no tears no wars
No God but God
No killing no lying
No God but God
No Al Humdulilah
No Hallelujah
No Hail Krishna
No Jah Rastafari
No God but God
The One
The Unity
Eternal
Everlasting
Loving
Peaceful
Maker
Owner
No God but God
What if what if what if
Maybe maybe maybe
Believe it believe it
Because it is
One God One Truth One Reality One Unity
No sects schisms divisions religions boxes tribes nations
One humanity One God
What if there is no God but God
What if what if what if
No temple no church no masjed
No God but God
No preacher no imam no rabbi no priest no minister no shaman no poet
No God but God
No prophet no messenger no messiah
No God but God
What if gay marry gay
Lesbian marry lesbian
Man marry woman
Man marry women
Woman marry men
Ho’s be with tricks
Tricks be with ho’s
What if what if what if
There is No God but God
No one beats woman
No one beats man
No one beats child
No one kills no one
No God but God
What if there is no war
What if there is peace on the planet
No God but God
What if guns are no more
No God but God
All is God
God is All
God is the people
God is the cow
God is the horse
God is the tree
God is the river
God is the fish
God is the child
God is the youth
God is the old people
God is the poor
God is the rich
God is the hungry
God is the sick
God is the dope fiend
God is the alcoholic
God is the sinner
No God but God
What if what if what if
There is no God but God
What if God is the captive you won’t liberate
The child you won’t love
The mama you hate
The daddy you hate
What if there is No God but God
What if God is the fear
You won’t release
God is the pain you won’t release
God is the love you won’t release
God is the tears you won’t cry
God is the lies you tell
God is the mountain you won’t climb
God is the success you won’t try
God is the beauty you don’t see
God is time
Running out the hourglass
God is the body you refuse to heal
God is the mind you refuse to feed
What if what if what if
What if God is ready when you ain’t ready
What if God is ready when you get ready
What if what if what if
What if there is no God but God
What if God is the forgiveness you won’t give
What if God is the denial you drown in like a hog in slop
What if what if what if
What if God is the peace in your house
The love in your life
The joy on your face
The happiness in your heart
The thankfulness of your smile
What if there is NO God but God
What if my life and my death are all for God
Not for woman, not for man
Not over a woman, not over a man
Life and death are all for God
What if what if what if
What if I grieve for nothing
Because God is everything
Whatever God wants I want
Whatever God don’t want I don’t want
Whatever God has I have
Whatever God don’t have I don’t want
What if what if what if
There is No God but God.
3/15/05 mrvnx@yahoo.com
By Marvin X
What if there was no God but God
No Allah Jesus Jehovah Buddha Marx Lenin Jah Damballah
What if there was no God but God
No religion but God
No Muslim, Christian, Jew, Buddhist, Hindu
No God but God
No Baptist Sunni Shiite Zionist Hebrew Communist Sikh Catholic God in Christ
Methodist Sufi
Atheist
No God but God
No woman man child grandmother grandfather uncle aunt
No God but God
No holiday except everyday was holy day
No Sabbath but everyday no Juma’a but everyday
No prayin but all day
All day we say nothing but No God but God
No more Bible Qur’an Torah
No God but God
No talk conversation no sermon no speech no words but silence and
NO God but God
No moaning no laughing
No God but God
No talk no tears no wars
No God but God
No killing no lying
No God but God
No Al Humdulilah
No Hallelujah
No Hail Krishna
No Jah Rastafari
No God but God
The One
The Unity
Eternal
Everlasting
Loving
Peaceful
Maker
Owner
No God but God
What if what if what if
Maybe maybe maybe
Believe it believe it
Because it is
One God One Truth One Reality One Unity
No sects schisms divisions religions boxes tribes nations
One humanity One God
What if there is no God but God
What if what if what if
No temple no church no masjed
No God but God
No preacher no imam no rabbi no priest no minister no shaman no poet
No God but God
No prophet no messenger no messiah
No God but God
What if gay marry gay
Lesbian marry lesbian
Man marry woman
Man marry women
Woman marry men
Ho’s be with tricks
Tricks be with ho’s
What if what if what if
There is No God but God
No one beats woman
No one beats man
No one beats child
No one kills no one
No God but God
What if there is no war
What if there is peace on the planet
No God but God
What if guns are no more
No God but God
All is God
God is All
God is the people
God is the cow
God is the horse
God is the tree
God is the river
God is the fish
God is the child
God is the youth
God is the old people
God is the poor
God is the rich
God is the hungry
God is the sick
God is the dope fiend
God is the alcoholic
God is the sinner
No God but God
What if what if what if
There is no God but God
What if God is the captive you won’t liberate
The child you won’t love
The mama you hate
The daddy you hate
What if there is No God but God
What if God is the fear
You won’t release
God is the pain you won’t release
God is the love you won’t release
God is the tears you won’t cry
God is the lies you tell
God is the mountain you won’t climb
God is the success you won’t try
God is the beauty you don’t see
God is time
Running out the hourglass
God is the body you refuse to heal
God is the mind you refuse to feed
What if what if what if
What if God is ready when you ain’t ready
What if God is ready when you get ready
What if what if what if
What if there is no God but God
What if God is the forgiveness you won’t give
What if God is the denial you drown in like a hog in slop
What if what if what if
What if God is the peace in your house
The love in your life
The joy on your face
The happiness in your heart
The thankfulness of your smile
What if there is NO God but God
What if my life and my death are all for God
Not for woman, not for man
Not over a woman, not over a man
Life and death are all for God
What if what if what if
What if I grieve for nothing
Because God is everything
Whatever God wants I want
Whatever God don’t want I don’t want
Whatever God has I have
Whatever God don’t have I don’t want
What if what if what if
There is No God but God.
3/15/05 mrvnx@yahoo.com
Open Letter to Minister of Oil, Republic of Iraq, Review: Pursuit of Happyness
Open Letter to Dr. Hussein Shahristani, Minister of Oil, Republic of Iraq
Marvin X
1.10.07
Dear Dr. Hussein Shahristani:
Bismillah-r-Rahman-r-Rahim.
As-Salaam-Alaikum, my brother. It has been forty years since we last met at your apartment in Toronto, Canada, 1967. You may recall that I was resisting the Vietnam War and you were a student at the University of Toronto. I saw that you went on to become a nuclear scientist but was persecuted under Saddam Hussein because you refused to work on his "Islamic" bomb. Al Hamdulilah, you survived. I saw your name on the list of persons for the first prime minister of American occupied Iraq. I noticed you refused this most dangerous job. I prayed for your safety. It was good to know you are a servant of the Grand Ayatollah Sistani. I have watched you advance from leader of the assembly to minister of oil.
Oil is the reason I am writing you, other than to let you know my prayers are with you and I recall fondly how you taught me my prayers in Arabic and our conversations on Islam.
I recall how you related that you wanted a Nation of Islam, thus you agreed with the vision of the Honorable Elijah Muhammad. Clearly, your nation shall become a nation of Islam. It appears to me southern Iraq is a de facto Islamic nation. Correct me if I am wrong.
But back to oil. As minister of oil, I would like you to consider assisting North American Africans in the United States of America who recently experienced hurricane Katrina, only to discover they were left at the mercy of themselves, with little assistance from the local, state and federal government. Some were too poor to buy gasoline to leave town for safer ground. Some were shot trying to reach higher ground by KKK policemen.
As you know, President Chavez of Venezuela has assisted many poor and minority communities in America and throughout the Americas. He has given them discounted gasoline and oil. Perhaps, you can assist us as well. First, we need to establish a community strategic reserve through the North American African community, just in case of emergency since we know we cannot depend on FEMA, Homeland Security or any government agency. Thus, we see the need to establish our own reserve in each community with storage tanks and tanker trucks equipped with nozzles for roadside emergency service.
Brother, see if you can help us so we are not dependent on this sham government.
Finally, I would like you to consider a speaking tour of Black America to explain to us your perspective on the situation in your nation. It is truly painful for me to hear about the daily violence in Iraq. But it is equally as painful to know about the daily violence in our neighborhoods, the grieving mothers, fathers, siblings, relatives and friends.
We grieve for the Iraqi people and the innocent American soldiers. Please consider a brief tour of the San Francisco Bay Area, Chicago, Atlanta, Philadelphia and New York, also Detroit and Chicago. We want to hear from you. I know you are in the midst of war, but perhaps you can slip away for a few days. Let me hear from you soon.
As-Salaam-Alaikum,
Marvin X (El Muhajir)
P.O. Box 1317
Paradise CA 95965
mrvnx@yahoo.com
The Pursuit of Happyness
Starring Will Smith
Review
Marvin X
Will Smith has processed himself into a great actor, from rapper to Fresh Prince, to Ali and other characters. But Pursuit of Happyness lacked the full drama of being down and out in the most beautiful city in the world, San Francisco. The film was a Miller Lite version of homelessness, and the narrow focus on the main character excluded the high drama of homelessness in San Francisco’s Tenderloin, that poverty area two blocks from the famous Cable Car line at Market and Powell, and a few blocks from the Shopping area for the rich, Union Square. The contrast is so overwhelming we wonder how could the filmmaker fail to show us this. It is totally shocking to tourists who often make the wrong turn coming out of their hotel room and find themselves in the Tenderloin, the multiracial ghetto inhabited by Blacks, Latinos, Asians and poor whites, with a great amount of the population addicted to drugs. All we see of the homeless are them standing in line at Glide Church, administered by Rev. Cecil Williams, the angel of San Francisco’s homeless, addicted and afflicted, the male version of Mother Theresa. Cecil appears in the film as himself; after all, no one can perform his role except him. The most dramatic moment is this scene outside Glide when Rev. Williams allows the main character and his son to get in line for a room. But it is powerful because we see the army of the homeless and the hungry in America. This moment is communal and we see the individual as part of a nation of homeless. France has called homelessness a matter of national security. France is calling for its citizens guaranteed housing. America can do likewise. There is absolutely no excuse for homelessness and hunger in America, the richest nation in the world.
I lived the life of a homeless drug addict in San Francisco’s Tenderloin. On one level, it was good to see the main character was not drug addicted. But it would have added so much more drama. Maybe his little frustrated wife should have been on drugs, because she has no real motivation to depart for New York, leaving her son behind for a two dollar job. Her character was weak and should have been explored, or at least included a violent departing scene. Since Will Smith used his son, why not have Jada as his wife, surely they could have created more drama, including a love scene that was absent in the film.
After I spent a decade in the Tenderloin (and God only knows how I made it out alive—thank you God Allah) as a Crack addict, I knew many mothers and fathers who abandoned their children for the drug life. Yesterday, a young lady at my outdoor classroom, downtown Oakland, told me she became homeless in San Francisco because her mother was doing Crack and she had to escape, so she lived in the street. The young lady, now 19, said she grew up in foster care.
A few weeks ago, a young brother recently released from prison, asked me about his mother whom he hasn’t seen since he was a baby.—she has been lost in the Tenderloin for years, and I have seen her from time to time, so I told the young man, also a product of foster care, now the California Department of Corrections, to go stand at 6th and Market and eventually he will see his mother, passing by on a mission impossible. I had told my nephew to do the same to find his father, lost and turned out in the TL.
This is some of the pain the film lacked.
It showed the grand beauty of San Francisco, but again, it should not have neglected the contrasting ugliness. There was a scene with Chris and his son at the East bay bus terminal, where they spent the night along with other homeless, although we don’t see the others in the film. I spent many nights on those benches at the East bay terminal; it was difficult to find bench space in those days, around the same time as the film, early 1980s.
Ok, this is one man’s story, the struggle of an individual to get ovah in America, a slave narrative. Slavery was communal, not individual, so we need to know about all those others who are still there, who didn’t make it out. Can they get out? I got out. Chris got out, so it takes discipline as he demonstrated. You got to be bout it bout it. For Chris it was one step forward two back, but he fought all the way, trying to be husband, father, and worker in a racist society. Apparently he was successful.
Marvin X’s latest collection of essays is Beyond Religion, Toward Spirituality, Black Bird Press, 2006. ISBN: 0-9649672-9-4. His book is available in Oakland at De Lauer’s books, 14th and Broadway, and Your Black Muslim Bakery, San Pablo at Stanford. Otherwise send $19.95 to Black Bird Press, P.O. Box 1317, Paradise CA 95967.
Visit marvinxspeaks@blogspot.com and www.nathanielturner.com.
. .
Posted by marvinx at 10:44 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Friday, December 15, 2006
COMMENTS ON MARVIN X
Marvin X is the USA's Rumi…He's got the humor of Pietri, the politics of Baraka, and the spiritual Muslim grounding that is totally new in English--the ecstasy of Hafiz, the wisdom of Saadi….
Bob Holman, Bowery Poetry Club, New York City
Still the undisputed king of black consciousness!
Dr. Nathan Hare, Black Think Tank
Declaring Muslim American literature as a field of study is valuable because by re-contextualizing it will add another layer of attention to Marvin X's incredibly rich body of work. Muslim American literature begins with Marvin X. (Note: The University of California , Berkeley , Bancroft Library, recently acquired the archives of Marvin X.)
Dr. Mohja Kahf, Dept. of English & Middle East & Islamic Studies,
University of Arkansas ,Fayetteville
In terms of modernist and innovative, he's centuries ahead of anybody I know.
Dennis Leroy Moore, Brecht Forum, New York
Marvelous Marvin X!
Dr. Cornel West, Princeton University
Courageous and outrageous! He walked through the muck and mire of hell and came out clean as white fish and black as coal.
James W. Sweeney, Oakland CA
His writing is orgasmic!
Fahizah Alim, Sacramento Bee
Jeremiah, I presume.
Rudolph Lewis, www.nathanielturner.com
He's Plato teaching on the streets of Oakland . His play One Day In the Life
is the most powerful drama I've seen.
Ishmael Reed
One of the founders and innovators of the revolutionary school of African writing.
Amiri Baraka
He laid the foundation and gave us the language to express Black male urban experiences in a lyrical way.
James G. Spady, Philadelphia New Observer
An outspoken critic of American economic, social and cultural discrimination of African Americans at home and Third World peoples abroad.
Dr. Julius E. Thompson, African American Review
Although Marvin X emerged from an extremely politicized era and enthusiastically confronted the issues of the day, his work is basically personal and religious and remains most effective on that level. It should remain relevant long after issues are resolved, if ever, and long after slogans and polemics are forgotten.
Lorenzo Thomas, Dept. of English, University of Houston , Texas
Posted by marvinx at 8:57 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Labels: amiri baraka, cornel west, dr. nathan hare, ishmael reed
BEYOND RELIGION, TOWARD SPIRITUALITY BOOK REVIEW
Marvin X has done extraordinary mind and soul work in bringing our attention to the importance of spirituality, as opposed to religion, in our daily living. Someone—maybe Kierkegaard or maybe it was George Fox who—said that there was no such thing as "Christianity." There can only be Christians. It is not institutions but rather individuals who make the meaningful differences in our world. It is not Islam but Muslims. Not Buddhism but Buddhists. Marvin X has made a courageous difference. In this book he shares the wondrous vision of his spiritual explorations. His eloquent language and rhetoric are varied—sophisticated but also earthy, sometimes both at once.
Highly informed he speaks to many societal levels and to both genders—to the intellectual as well as to the man/woman on the street or the unfortunate in prison—to the mind as well as the heart. His topics range from global politics and economics to those between men and women in their household. Common sense dominates his thought. He shuns political correctness for the truth of life. He is a Master Teacher in many fields of thought—religion and psychology, sociology and anthropology, history and politics, literature and the humanities. He is a needed Counselor, for he knows himself, on the deepest of personal levels and he reveals that self to us, that we might be his beneficiaries.
All of which are represented in his Radical Spirituality—a balm for those who anguish in these troubling times of disinformation. As a shaman himself, he calls too for a Radical Mythology to override the traditional mythologies of racial supremacy that foster war and injustice. If you want to reshape (clean up, raise) your consciousness, this is a book to savor, to read again, and again—to pass onto a friend or lover.
Rudolph Lewis, Editor, ChickenBones: A Journal
Posted by marvinx at 8:55 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Labels: radical spirituality
Monday, December 11, 2006
Marvin X : The Chronology
➢ Chronology of Marvin X
➢ 1944 Born May 29, Fowler, CA to Owendell and Marian M. Jackmon, second child.
➢ Sits atop desk as father and mother publishes Fresno Voice, the Central Valley’s first black newspaper. Father was a Race man who served in WWI. He introduced Christian Science to wife who becomes a lifelong follower of Mary Baker Eddy. Mr. Jackmon remained a Methodist.
➢ Marvin attended Lincoln and Columbia elementary schools in Fresno. In Oakland
where the family moved, he attended Prescott, McFeely and St. Patrick elementary schools, also Lowell Jr. High.
➢ Wrote in the children’s section of the Oakland Tribune.
➢ 1962 Graduated with honors from Edison High School in Fresno.
➢ Attends Merritt College in Oakland where he meets Huey Newton, Bobby Seale, Ken Freeman and Ernie Allen.
➢ Introduced to Black Nationalism. Wins short story contest in college magazine, story published in SoulBook, revolutionary nationalist publication.
➢ Graduates with AA in sociology. Attends San Francisco State College.
➢ 1965 At the request of novelist John Gardner, San Francisco State College drama department produced first play, Flowers for the Trashman.
-Called the best playwright to hit SF State by Kenneth Rexroth.
-Worked as TA for novelist Leo Litwak.
➢ 1966 Writings begin to appear in Soulbook, Black Dialogue, Negro Digest (Black World), Black Scholar, Journal of Black Poetry, Black Theatre, and Muhammad Speaks. Black Dialogue staff visits Eldridge Cleaver and Bunchy Carter in Soledad prison. Marvin is present. Black Dialogue publishes Cleaver’s essay, My Queen, I Greet You, later it appears in Soul On Ice.
➢ Co-founds Black Arts West Theatre with Ed Bullins, Ethna Wyatt, Duncan Barber, Hillery Broadus and Carl Boissiere.
➢ 1967 Co-founds Black House political/cultural center in San Francisco with Eldridge Cleaver, Ed Bullins and Ethna Wyatt. Amiri Baraka, Sonia Sanchez, Askia Toure, Sarah Webster Fabio, Chicago Art Ensemble, Avotja, Reginald Lockett, Emory Douglass, Samuel Napier, Lil Bobby Hutton, Huey Newton, Bobby Seale, attend Black House.
➢ Marvin X introduces Eldridge Cleaver to Bobby Seale. Eldridge joins BPP. Black Panthers plan invasion of state capital at Black House.
➢ Marvin joins Nation of Islam, flees to Toronto, Canada to protest draft and resist Vietnam war.
➢ 1968 Goes underground to Chicago shortly before assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Lived on Southside during riots. Meets Don L. Lee, Gwen Brooks, Hoyt Fuller, Phil Choran, Carolyn Rogers, Johari Amini and others of Chicago BAM (Black Arts Movement.
➢ In Harlem joins Ed Bullins at the New Lafayette Theatre. Works as associate editor of Black Theatre magazine. Associates with Amiri Baraka, Askia Toure, Sun Ran, Sonia Sanchez, Nikki Giovanni, Last Poets, Barbara Ann Teer, Milford Graves.
➢ Publishes Fly to Allah, poems that later establish him as the father of Muslim American literature, according to Dr. Mojah Kahf of the University of Arkansas department of English and Islamic Studies.
➢ 1969 Apprehended returning from Montreal, Canada, charged with draft evasion. Defended by Conrad Lynn. Returns to California to stand trial and teach at Fresno State University until removed at the insistence of Governor Ronald Reagan, by any means necessary.
➢ Angela Davis is also removed from teaching at UCLA. Student protesters burn computer center at Fresno State. Students from throughout California attend draft trial in San Francisco.
➢ 1970 Convicted, flees into exile a second time, this time to Mexico City and Belize. Marries Barbara Hall, a student from Fresno State College, in Mexico City. Revolutionary artists Elizabeth Catlett Mora and Poncho Mora witness civil ceremony.
➢ Deported from Belize because his presence was not beneficial to the welfare
of the colony of British Honduras. While in custody, police ask him to teach them about black power. Sentenced to five months in Federal prison, Terminal Island.
➢ Founds Black Educational Theatre in Fresno.
➢ Performs musical version of Flowers as Take Care of Business. Reactionary negroes kill choir director in theatre, put hit out on poet.
➢ He flees to San Francisco, opens Black Educational Theatre in Fillmore District,
joined by Sun Ra’s Arkestra.
➢ Produced five hour musical version of Take Care of Business, with cast of fifty at Harding Theatre on Divisadero, choreography by Raymond Sawyer and Ellendar Barnes.
➢ 1972 Produced Resurrection of the Dead, a myth/ritual dance drama with Plunky, Babatunde Lea, Victor Willis as lead singer (Village People), dancers included Raymond Sawyer, Jamilah Hunter, Nisa Ra, Thomas Duckett.
➢ Lectures at University of California, Berkeley in Black Studies. Marries UCB student, Nisa (Greta Pope)
➢ Awarded National Endowment for the Arts fellowship. Travels to southern Mexico, Oxaca, Trinidad and Guyana. Interviews prime minister Forbes Burnham. Interview appeared in Black Scholar.
➢ Published Woman,Man’s Best Friend, poems, proverbs, lyrics, parables, Al Kitab Sudan Press.
➢ 1973 Returns to San Francisco State University, awarded BA.
➢ Earns MA in one semester, English/Creative writing.
➢ Teaches at SF State, black literature, journalism, radio and television writing.
➢ 1975 Lectures at Mills College,Oakland.
➢ Produced musical version of Woman,Man’s Best Friend.
➢ Upward Bound program pressured director Connie Wye to halt production. She refused, suffered a cerebral hemorrhage and expired.
➢ Visiting professor at University of California, San Diego. Taught Afro-American literature and Elementary Arabic.
➢ 1976 Organizes Eldridge Cleaver Crusades. Hires staff of Black Muslims for Cleaver’s ministry. Meets Donald Rumsfeld, Charles Colson, Jim and Tammy Baker, Rev. Robert Schuller. Deals with Rev. Billy Graham, Rev. Falwell, Pat Roberson, Cal Thomas, Pat Boone, Hal Linsey, Art DeMoss.
➢ 1978 Returns to Fresno. Falls in love with Sharon Johnson, childhood friend. See autobiography Somethin Proper.
➢ 1979 Lectures at University of Nevada, Reno.
➢ Awarded two National Endowment for the Humanities planning grants.
Produced Excellence in Education Conference. Participants included Eldridge Cleaver, Dr. Harry Edwards, Dr. Wade Nobles, Fahizah Alim, Sherley A. Williams,Ntizi Cayou, Dr. Ahimsa Sumchi.
➢ Publishes Selected Poems.
➢ Returns to Oakland to organize Melvin Black Human Rights Conference at Oakland Auditorium to stop police killing of black men. Participants included Minister Farakhan, Angela Davis, Paul Cobb, Eldridge Cleaver, Khalid Abdullah Tariq Al Mansour, Dr. Yusef Bey, Dezzie Woods-Jones. Police killings stop but drive by shootings begin along with introduction of Crack.
➢ 1980 Produced National Conference of Black Men at Oakland auditorium. Participants included Dr. Yusef Bey, Dr. Nathan Hare, Dr. Wade Nobles, Dr. Oba Tshaka, Dr. Lige Dailey, John Douimbia (founder), Betty King, Dezzie Woods-Jones.
➢ 1981 Taught drama at Laney College.
➢ Did production of In the Name of Love,a poetic drama directed by Ayodele Nzinga. Eldridge Cleaver said this drama returned theatre to the poetic dramas of Shakespeare.
➢ Taught manhood training at Merritt College.
➢ 1982 Taught English at Kings River Community College, Reedly CA.
➢ Retires from Teaching with 97% student retention rate.
➢ 1983 Incorporated Afrikan Universal Library for Hurriyah (Ethna X.) Vends on streets of San Francisco, organized vendors (mostly white) under his non-profit corporation. Harassed under color of law
➢ 1984 Vends political buttons at Democratic and Republican conventions. San Francisco Chronicle called him the Button King. In Dallas, the Republicans observed his salesmanship and said, “If he makes one more dollar, he’ll be a Republican”
➢ Descends into the muck and mire of hell: Crack drives him into the mental hospital several times.
➢ 1989 Writes article on Huey Newton, based on last meeting in Oakland Crack house.
Article becomes source of Ed Bullins’ play, Salaam, Huey, Salaam. Article is beginning of autobiography, Somethin Proper.
➢ 1990 Begins recovery at San Francisco’s Glide Church with Rev. Cecil Williams and Janice Mirikitani. Transcribes testimonies of Crack addicts.
➢ Writes docudrama of his addiction and recovery One Day In The Life.
➢ 1995 Transition of Marsha Satterfield at 41 years old, cancer. Poet flees to Seattle, WA. Works on autobiography.
➢ Publishes Love and War, poems.
➢ 1996 Produces One Day In The Life with Majeeda Rahman’s Healthy Babies Project, a recovery program for woman and children. Play performed at Alice Arts Theatre.
➢ 1997 One Day In the Life opens at Sista’s Place in Brooklyn, New York, also Brecht Forum in Manhattan and Kimako’s Blues in Newark, New Jersey, home of the Barakas.
➢ 1997 Attends National Black Theatre festival, Winston-Salem, North Carolina. Meets Carolyn Turner. She provides him with time and space to finish autobiography, plenty of sweet tea and dirty rice, in the tradition of the film Mr. and Mrs. Smith.
➢ 1998 Transition of Eldridge Cleaver. Kathleen Cleaver approves poem Soul Gone Home to be read at funeral in Los Angeles. Marvin and Majeeda Rahman organize memorial service in Oakland. Participants included Emory Douglas, Tarika Lewis, Richard Aoki, Dr. Nathan Hare, Reginald Major, Dr. Yusef Bey, Minister Keith Muhammad, Imam Al Amin, Kathleen and Joju Cleaver. Publication of autobiography Somethin Proper.
➢ 1999 Establishes Recovery Theatre. Begins run of One Day in the Life. Gets support from Mayor Willie Brown of San Francisco after Uhuru House performance. One Day becomes longest running black play in the Bay. Ishmael Reed says, It’s the best drama I ever saw.
➢ Associate director and lead actress, Ayodele Nzinga; role of Huey Newton performed by Geoffrey Grier; Marvin X played himself or did the opening monologue, clocked at forty-five minutes.
➢ Funded by the Mayor’s office, SF Arts Commission, Zellerbach Family Fund, Grants for the
Arts, Marin Country Board of Supervisor’s, Sacramento Metropolitan Arts Commission.
➢ 2001 Produces Kings and Queens of Black Consciousness at San Francisco State University. Participants incl ded: Nathan and Julia Hare, Rev. Cecil Williams, Dr. Cornell West, Amiri and Amina Baraka, Ishamel Reed, Askia Toure, Avotja, Eddie Gale, Rudi Wongozi, Rev. Andriette Earl, Dr. Theophile Obenga, Elliott Bey, Ayodele Nzinga, Destiny, Tarika Lewis, Phavia Kujichagulia, Suzzette Celeste, Tureeda, Geoffrey Grier, Rev. Otis Lloyd, Kalamu Ya Salaam, Ptah Allah-El. Funded by Glide Church and Vanguard foundation.
➢ Video of Kings and Queens screened at New York International Independent film festival. In Newark on 9/11, stopped at airport by police.
➢ 2002 Transition of son Darrel at 38, suffered manic oppression.
➢ Publication of In the Crazy House Called America, essays.
➢ 2004 Produced San Francisco Black Radical Book Fair. Participants included Amiri and Amina Baraka, Nathan and Julia Hare, Al Young, Askia Toure, Kalamu Ya Salaam, Ishamel Reed, Sonia Sanchez, Reginald Lockett, Charlie Walker, Jamie Walker, Davey D, Opal Palmer Adisa, Devorah Major, Fillmore Slim, Rosebud Bitterdose, Sam Hamod, Ayodele Nzinga, Tarika Lewis.
➢ Published Land of My Daughters, poems, and Wish I Could Tell You The Truth, essays.
➢ Published issue of Black Bird Press Review newspaper.
➢ 2006 Writes Sweet Tea, Dirty Rice, poems; Up From Ignorance, essays; Beyond Religion, Toward Spirituality, essays; Mama Said Use The Mind God Gave You, autobiographical novel.
➢ Archives sold to University of California, Berkeley, Bancroft Library.
➢ Transition of friends: Dr. Salat Townsend, Paula Shular, Alonzo Batin, Dewey Redman and Rufus Harley.
➢ Online writings appear at www.nathanielturner.com, www.aalbc.com, www.konch.com
Posted by marvinx at 8:51 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Thursday, December 7, 2006
The Nigguh Question
by Marvin X
The black culture police are at it again, lead running dog is Rev. Jesse Jackson, perhaps the most hypocritical culture policeman on the scene--especially after leading president Clinton in prayer over Monica while himself engaged in extramarital shenanigans.
The culture police continue to focus on the N word as in Nigguh or Nigger, depending on whether one is into Ebonics or Euronics. Now Nigguh/Nigger has become a billion dollar word, thanks to rappers. It is used around the world on the rap scene and used by the multicultural hip hop generation. Yes, a white boy, Asian, Latino or others can be called nigguh. Language is fluid and dynamic, not static, thus, definitions of words, connotations and denotations change with time. The conservative cultural police are stuck in a time warp, suffer cultural lag and other psycho pathologies. They want to deal with surface structure rather than deep structure issues. They abhor the term motherfucker while they fuck their mothers and daughters, even sons. They abhor the term nigguh because they are the real nigguhs, faking like they black. As James Brown says in one of his songs, "Talkin Black but living negro."
As a writer, I am opposed to censorship in any way, for any reason. Nigguh is one of the most powerful words in the American language, certainly in the language of North American Africans, and it's silly to think we are going to stop using the N word--I am not, so Nigguh please tell the culture police to kiss my black nigguh ass.
If there were people in my audience talking or heckling me, I would/will tell them to get their black nigguh asses out my concert, or come up to the mike and take over, since it is obviously their show and they have something important to say to the audience.
It is time for political correctness to enter the dustbin of history. Call a spade a spade and stop tweeking. How in the hell can we get mad at the white boy when we use nigguh every day of our lives. And when we ain't using nigguh, for sure we are acting like nigguhs, talkin loud, saying nothing--or more precisely doing nothing.
Open Letter to Dr. Hussein Shahristani, Minister of Oil, Republic of Iraq
Marvin X
1.10.07
Dear Dr. Hussein Shahristani:
Bismillah-r-Rahman-r-Rahim.
As-Salaam-Alaikum, my brother. It has been forty years since we last met at your apartment in Toronto, Canada, 1967. You may recall that I was resisting the Vietnam War and you were a student at the University of Toronto. I saw that you went on to become a nuclear scientist but was persecuted under Saddam Hussein because you refused to work on his "Islamic" bomb. Al Hamdulilah, you survived. I saw your name on the list of persons for the first prime minister of American occupied Iraq. I noticed you refused this most dangerous job. I prayed for your safety. It was good to know you are a servant of the Grand Ayatollah Sistani. I have watched you advance from leader of the assembly to minister of oil.
Oil is the reason I am writing you, other than to let you know my prayers are with you and I recall fondly how you taught me my prayers in Arabic and our conversations on Islam.
I recall how you related that you wanted a Nation of Islam, thus you agreed with the vision of the Honorable Elijah Muhammad. Clearly, your nation shall become a nation of Islam. It appears to me southern Iraq is a de facto Islamic nation. Correct me if I am wrong.
But back to oil. As minister of oil, I would like you to consider assisting North American Africans in the United States of America who recently experienced hurricane Katrina, only to discover they were left at the mercy of themselves, with little assistance from the local, state and federal government. Some were too poor to buy gasoline to leave town for safer ground. Some were shot trying to reach higher ground by KKK policemen.
As you know, President Chavez of Venezuela has assisted many poor and minority communities in America and throughout the Americas. He has given them discounted gasoline and oil. Perhaps, you can assist us as well. First, we need to establish a community strategic reserve through the North American African community, just in case of emergency since we know we cannot depend on FEMA, Homeland Security or any government agency. Thus, we see the need to establish our own reserve in each community with storage tanks and tanker trucks equipped with nozzles for roadside emergency service.
Brother, see if you can help us so we are not dependent on this sham government.
Finally, I would like you to consider a speaking tour of Black America to explain to us your perspective on the situation in your nation. It is truly painful for me to hear about the daily violence in Iraq. But it is equally as painful to know about the daily violence in our neighborhoods, the grieving mothers, fathers, siblings, relatives and friends.
We grieve for the Iraqi people and the innocent American soldiers. Please consider a brief tour of the San Francisco Bay Area, Chicago, Atlanta, Philadelphia and New York, also Detroit and Chicago. We want to hear from you. I know you are in the midst of war, but perhaps you can slip away for a few days. Let me hear from you soon.
As-Salaam-Alaikum,
Marvin X (El Muhajir)
P.O. Box 1317
Paradise CA 95965
mrvnx@yahoo.com
The Pursuit of Happyness
Starring Will Smith
Review
Marvin X
Will Smith has processed himself into a great actor, from rapper to Fresh Prince, to Ali and other characters. But Pursuit of Happyness lacked the full drama of being down and out in the most beautiful city in the world, San Francisco. The film was a Miller Lite version of homelessness, and the narrow focus on the main character excluded the high drama of homelessness in San Francisco’s Tenderloin, that poverty area two blocks from the famous Cable Car line at Market and Powell, and a few blocks from the Shopping area for the rich, Union Square. The contrast is so overwhelming we wonder how could the filmmaker fail to show us this. It is totally shocking to tourists who often make the wrong turn coming out of their hotel room and find themselves in the Tenderloin, the multiracial ghetto inhabited by Blacks, Latinos, Asians and poor whites, with a great amount of the population addicted to drugs. All we see of the homeless are them standing in line at Glide Church, administered by Rev. Cecil Williams, the angel of San Francisco’s homeless, addicted and afflicted, the male version of Mother Theresa. Cecil appears in the film as himself; after all, no one can perform his role except him. The most dramatic moment is this scene outside Glide when Rev. Williams allows the main character and his son to get in line for a room. But it is powerful because we see the army of the homeless and the hungry in America. This moment is communal and we see the individual as part of a nation of homeless. France has called homelessness a matter of national security. France is calling for its citizens guaranteed housing. America can do likewise. There is absolutely no excuse for homelessness and hunger in America, the richest nation in the world.
I lived the life of a homeless drug addict in San Francisco’s Tenderloin. On one level, it was good to see the main character was not drug addicted. But it would have added so much more drama. Maybe his little frustrated wife should have been on drugs, because she has no real motivation to depart for New York, leaving her son behind for a two dollar job. Her character was weak and should have been explored, or at least included a violent departing scene. Since Will Smith used his son, why not have Jada as his wife, surely they could have created more drama, including a love scene that was absent in the film.
After I spent a decade in the Tenderloin (and God only knows how I made it out alive—thank you God Allah) as a Crack addict, I knew many mothers and fathers who abandoned their children for the drug life. Yesterday, a young lady at my outdoor classroom, downtown Oakland, told me she became homeless in San Francisco because her mother was doing Crack and she had to escape, so she lived in the street. The young lady, now 19, said she grew up in foster care.
A few weeks ago, a young brother recently released from prison, asked me about his mother whom he hasn’t seen since he was a baby.—she has been lost in the Tenderloin for years, and I have seen her from time to time, so I told the young man, also a product of foster care, now the California Department of Corrections, to go stand at 6th and Market and eventually he will see his mother, passing by on a mission impossible. I had told my nephew to do the same to find his father, lost and turned out in the TL.
This is some of the pain the film lacked.
It showed the grand beauty of San Francisco, but again, it should not have neglected the contrasting ugliness. There was a scene with Chris and his son at the East bay bus terminal, where they spent the night along with other homeless, although we don’t see the others in the film. I spent many nights on those benches at the East bay terminal; it was difficult to find bench space in those days, around the same time as the film, early 1980s.
Ok, this is one man’s story, the struggle of an individual to get ovah in America, a slave narrative. Slavery was communal, not individual, so we need to know about all those others who are still there, who didn’t make it out. Can they get out? I got out. Chris got out, so it takes discipline as he demonstrated. You got to be bout it bout it. For Chris it was one step forward two back, but he fought all the way, trying to be husband, father, and worker in a racist society. Apparently he was successful.
Marvin X’s latest collection of essays is Beyond Religion, Toward Spirituality, Black Bird Press, 2006. ISBN: 0-9649672-9-4. His book is available in Oakland at De Lauer’s books, 14th and Broadway, and Your Black Muslim Bakery, San Pablo at Stanford. Otherwise send $19.95 to Black Bird Press, P.O. Box 1317, Paradise CA 95967.
Visit marvinxspeaks@blogspot.com and www.nathanielturner.com.
. .
Posted by marvinx at 10:44 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Friday, December 15, 2006
COMMENTS ON MARVIN X
Marvin X is the USA's Rumi…He's got the humor of Pietri, the politics of Baraka, and the spiritual Muslim grounding that is totally new in English--the ecstasy of Hafiz, the wisdom of Saadi….
Bob Holman, Bowery Poetry Club, New York City
Still the undisputed king of black consciousness!
Dr. Nathan Hare, Black Think Tank
Declaring Muslim American literature as a field of study is valuable because by re-contextualizing it will add another layer of attention to Marvin X's incredibly rich body of work. Muslim American literature begins with Marvin X. (Note: The University of California , Berkeley , Bancroft Library, recently acquired the archives of Marvin X.)
Dr. Mohja Kahf, Dept. of English & Middle East & Islamic Studies,
University of Arkansas ,Fayetteville
In terms of modernist and innovative, he's centuries ahead of anybody I know.
Dennis Leroy Moore, Brecht Forum, New York
Marvelous Marvin X!
Dr. Cornel West, Princeton University
Courageous and outrageous! He walked through the muck and mire of hell and came out clean as white fish and black as coal.
James W. Sweeney, Oakland CA
His writing is orgasmic!
Fahizah Alim, Sacramento Bee
Jeremiah, I presume.
Rudolph Lewis, www.nathanielturner.com
He's Plato teaching on the streets of Oakland . His play One Day In the Life
is the most powerful drama I've seen.
Ishmael Reed
One of the founders and innovators of the revolutionary school of African writing.
Amiri Baraka
He laid the foundation and gave us the language to express Black male urban experiences in a lyrical way.
James G. Spady, Philadelphia New Observer
An outspoken critic of American economic, social and cultural discrimination of African Americans at home and Third World peoples abroad.
Dr. Julius E. Thompson, African American Review
Although Marvin X emerged from an extremely politicized era and enthusiastically confronted the issues of the day, his work is basically personal and religious and remains most effective on that level. It should remain relevant long after issues are resolved, if ever, and long after slogans and polemics are forgotten.
Lorenzo Thomas, Dept. of English, University of Houston , Texas
Posted by marvinx at 8:57 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Labels: amiri baraka, cornel west, dr. nathan hare, ishmael reed
BEYOND RELIGION, TOWARD SPIRITUALITY BOOK REVIEW
Marvin X has done extraordinary mind and soul work in bringing our attention to the importance of spirituality, as opposed to religion, in our daily living. Someone—maybe Kierkegaard or maybe it was George Fox who—said that there was no such thing as "Christianity." There can only be Christians. It is not institutions but rather individuals who make the meaningful differences in our world. It is not Islam but Muslims. Not Buddhism but Buddhists. Marvin X has made a courageous difference. In this book he shares the wondrous vision of his spiritual explorations. His eloquent language and rhetoric are varied—sophisticated but also earthy, sometimes both at once.
Highly informed he speaks to many societal levels and to both genders—to the intellectual as well as to the man/woman on the street or the unfortunate in prison—to the mind as well as the heart. His topics range from global politics and economics to those between men and women in their household. Common sense dominates his thought. He shuns political correctness for the truth of life. He is a Master Teacher in many fields of thought—religion and psychology, sociology and anthropology, history and politics, literature and the humanities. He is a needed Counselor, for he knows himself, on the deepest of personal levels and he reveals that self to us, that we might be his beneficiaries.
All of which are represented in his Radical Spirituality—a balm for those who anguish in these troubling times of disinformation. As a shaman himself, he calls too for a Radical Mythology to override the traditional mythologies of racial supremacy that foster war and injustice. If you want to reshape (clean up, raise) your consciousness, this is a book to savor, to read again, and again—to pass onto a friend or lover.
Rudolph Lewis, Editor, ChickenBones: A Journal
Posted by marvinx at 8:55 AM 0 comments Links to this post
Labels: radical spirituality
Monday, December 11, 2006
Marvin X : The Chronology
➢ Chronology of Marvin X
➢ 1944 Born May 29, Fowler, CA to Owendell and Marian M. Jackmon, second child.
➢ Sits atop desk as father and mother publishes Fresno Voice, the Central Valley’s first black newspaper. Father was a Race man who served in WWI. He introduced Christian Science to wife who becomes a lifelong follower of Mary Baker Eddy. Mr. Jackmon remained a Methodist.
➢ Marvin attended Lincoln and Columbia elementary schools in Fresno. In Oakland
where the family moved, he attended Prescott, McFeely and St. Patrick elementary schools, also Lowell Jr. High.
➢ Wrote in the children’s section of the Oakland Tribune.
➢ 1962 Graduated with honors from Edison High School in Fresno.
➢ Attends Merritt College in Oakland where he meets Huey Newton, Bobby Seale, Ken Freeman and Ernie Allen.
➢ Introduced to Black Nationalism. Wins short story contest in college magazine, story published in SoulBook, revolutionary nationalist publication.
➢ Graduates with AA in sociology. Attends San Francisco State College.
➢ 1965 At the request of novelist John Gardner, San Francisco State College drama department produced first play, Flowers for the Trashman.
-Called the best playwright to hit SF State by Kenneth Rexroth.
-Worked as TA for novelist Leo Litwak.
➢ 1966 Writings begin to appear in Soulbook, Black Dialogue, Negro Digest (Black World), Black Scholar, Journal of Black Poetry, Black Theatre, and Muhammad Speaks. Black Dialogue staff visits Eldridge Cleaver and Bunchy Carter in Soledad prison. Marvin is present. Black Dialogue publishes Cleaver’s essay, My Queen, I Greet You, later it appears in Soul On Ice.
➢ Co-founds Black Arts West Theatre with Ed Bullins, Ethna Wyatt, Duncan Barber, Hillery Broadus and Carl Boissiere.
➢ 1967 Co-founds Black House political/cultural center in San Francisco with Eldridge Cleaver, Ed Bullins and Ethna Wyatt. Amiri Baraka, Sonia Sanchez, Askia Toure, Sarah Webster Fabio, Chicago Art Ensemble, Avotja, Reginald Lockett, Emory Douglass, Samuel Napier, Lil Bobby Hutton, Huey Newton, Bobby Seale, attend Black House.
➢ Marvin X introduces Eldridge Cleaver to Bobby Seale. Eldridge joins BPP. Black Panthers plan invasion of state capital at Black House.
➢ Marvin joins Nation of Islam, flees to Toronto, Canada to protest draft and resist Vietnam war.
➢ 1968 Goes underground to Chicago shortly before assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Lived on Southside during riots. Meets Don L. Lee, Gwen Brooks, Hoyt Fuller, Phil Choran, Carolyn Rogers, Johari Amini and others of Chicago BAM (Black Arts Movement.
➢ In Harlem joins Ed Bullins at the New Lafayette Theatre. Works as associate editor of Black Theatre magazine. Associates with Amiri Baraka, Askia Toure, Sun Ran, Sonia Sanchez, Nikki Giovanni, Last Poets, Barbara Ann Teer, Milford Graves.
➢ Publishes Fly to Allah, poems that later establish him as the father of Muslim American literature, according to Dr. Mojah Kahf of the University of Arkansas department of English and Islamic Studies.
➢ 1969 Apprehended returning from Montreal, Canada, charged with draft evasion. Defended by Conrad Lynn. Returns to California to stand trial and teach at Fresno State University until removed at the insistence of Governor Ronald Reagan, by any means necessary.
➢ Angela Davis is also removed from teaching at UCLA. Student protesters burn computer center at Fresno State. Students from throughout California attend draft trial in San Francisco.
➢ 1970 Convicted, flees into exile a second time, this time to Mexico City and Belize. Marries Barbara Hall, a student from Fresno State College, in Mexico City. Revolutionary artists Elizabeth Catlett Mora and Poncho Mora witness civil ceremony.
➢ Deported from Belize because his presence was not beneficial to the welfare
of the colony of British Honduras. While in custody, police ask him to teach them about black power. Sentenced to five months in Federal prison, Terminal Island.
➢ Founds Black Educational Theatre in Fresno.
➢ Performs musical version of Flowers as Take Care of Business. Reactionary negroes kill choir director in theatre, put hit out on poet.
➢ He flees to San Francisco, opens Black Educational Theatre in Fillmore District,
joined by Sun Ra’s Arkestra.
➢ Produced five hour musical version of Take Care of Business, with cast of fifty at Harding Theatre on Divisadero, choreography by Raymond Sawyer and Ellendar Barnes.
➢ 1972 Produced Resurrection of the Dead, a myth/ritual dance drama with Plunky, Babatunde Lea, Victor Willis as lead singer (Village People), dancers included Raymond Sawyer, Jamilah Hunter, Nisa Ra, Thomas Duckett.
➢ Lectures at University of California, Berkeley in Black Studies. Marries UCB student, Nisa (Greta Pope)
➢ Awarded National Endowment for the Arts fellowship. Travels to southern Mexico, Oxaca, Trinidad and Guyana. Interviews prime minister Forbes Burnham. Interview appeared in Black Scholar.
➢ Published Woman,Man’s Best Friend, poems, proverbs, lyrics, parables, Al Kitab Sudan Press.
➢ 1973 Returns to San Francisco State University, awarded BA.
➢ Earns MA in one semester, English/Creative writing.
➢ Teaches at SF State, black literature, journalism, radio and television writing.
➢ 1975 Lectures at Mills College,Oakland.
➢ Produced musical version of Woman,Man’s Best Friend.
➢ Upward Bound program pressured director Connie Wye to halt production. She refused, suffered a cerebral hemorrhage and expired.
➢ Visiting professor at University of California, San Diego. Taught Afro-American literature and Elementary Arabic.
➢ 1976 Organizes Eldridge Cleaver Crusades. Hires staff of Black Muslims for Cleaver’s ministry. Meets Donald Rumsfeld, Charles Colson, Jim and Tammy Baker, Rev. Robert Schuller. Deals with Rev. Billy Graham, Rev. Falwell, Pat Roberson, Cal Thomas, Pat Boone, Hal Linsey, Art DeMoss.
➢ 1978 Returns to Fresno. Falls in love with Sharon Johnson, childhood friend. See autobiography Somethin Proper.
➢ 1979 Lectures at University of Nevada, Reno.
➢ Awarded two National Endowment for the Humanities planning grants.
Produced Excellence in Education Conference. Participants included Eldridge Cleaver, Dr. Harry Edwards, Dr. Wade Nobles, Fahizah Alim, Sherley A. Williams,Ntizi Cayou, Dr. Ahimsa Sumchi.
➢ Publishes Selected Poems.
➢ Returns to Oakland to organize Melvin Black Human Rights Conference at Oakland Auditorium to stop police killing of black men. Participants included Minister Farakhan, Angela Davis, Paul Cobb, Eldridge Cleaver, Khalid Abdullah Tariq Al Mansour, Dr. Yusef Bey, Dezzie Woods-Jones. Police killings stop but drive by shootings begin along with introduction of Crack.
➢ 1980 Produced National Conference of Black Men at Oakland auditorium. Participants included Dr. Yusef Bey, Dr. Nathan Hare, Dr. Wade Nobles, Dr. Oba Tshaka, Dr. Lige Dailey, John Douimbia (founder), Betty King, Dezzie Woods-Jones.
➢ 1981 Taught drama at Laney College.
➢ Did production of In the Name of Love,a poetic drama directed by Ayodele Nzinga. Eldridge Cleaver said this drama returned theatre to the poetic dramas of Shakespeare.
➢ Taught manhood training at Merritt College.
➢ 1982 Taught English at Kings River Community College, Reedly CA.
➢ Retires from Teaching with 97% student retention rate.
➢ 1983 Incorporated Afrikan Universal Library for Hurriyah (Ethna X.) Vends on streets of San Francisco, organized vendors (mostly white) under his non-profit corporation. Harassed under color of law
➢ 1984 Vends political buttons at Democratic and Republican conventions. San Francisco Chronicle called him the Button King. In Dallas, the Republicans observed his salesmanship and said, “If he makes one more dollar, he’ll be a Republican”
➢ Descends into the muck and mire of hell: Crack drives him into the mental hospital several times.
➢ 1989 Writes article on Huey Newton, based on last meeting in Oakland Crack house.
Article becomes source of Ed Bullins’ play, Salaam, Huey, Salaam. Article is beginning of autobiography, Somethin Proper.
➢ 1990 Begins recovery at San Francisco’s Glide Church with Rev. Cecil Williams and Janice Mirikitani. Transcribes testimonies of Crack addicts.
➢ Writes docudrama of his addiction and recovery One Day In The Life.
➢ 1995 Transition of Marsha Satterfield at 41 years old, cancer. Poet flees to Seattle, WA. Works on autobiography.
➢ Publishes Love and War, poems.
➢ 1996 Produces One Day In The Life with Majeeda Rahman’s Healthy Babies Project, a recovery program for woman and children. Play performed at Alice Arts Theatre.
➢ 1997 One Day In the Life opens at Sista’s Place in Brooklyn, New York, also Brecht Forum in Manhattan and Kimako’s Blues in Newark, New Jersey, home of the Barakas.
➢ 1997 Attends National Black Theatre festival, Winston-Salem, North Carolina. Meets Carolyn Turner. She provides him with time and space to finish autobiography, plenty of sweet tea and dirty rice, in the tradition of the film Mr. and Mrs. Smith.
➢ 1998 Transition of Eldridge Cleaver. Kathleen Cleaver approves poem Soul Gone Home to be read at funeral in Los Angeles. Marvin and Majeeda Rahman organize memorial service in Oakland. Participants included Emory Douglas, Tarika Lewis, Richard Aoki, Dr. Nathan Hare, Reginald Major, Dr. Yusef Bey, Minister Keith Muhammad, Imam Al Amin, Kathleen and Joju Cleaver. Publication of autobiography Somethin Proper.
➢ 1999 Establishes Recovery Theatre. Begins run of One Day in the Life. Gets support from Mayor Willie Brown of San Francisco after Uhuru House performance. One Day becomes longest running black play in the Bay. Ishmael Reed says, It’s the best drama I ever saw.
➢ Associate director and lead actress, Ayodele Nzinga; role of Huey Newton performed by Geoffrey Grier; Marvin X played himself or did the opening monologue, clocked at forty-five minutes.
➢ Funded by the Mayor’s office, SF Arts Commission, Zellerbach Family Fund, Grants for the
Arts, Marin Country Board of Supervisor’s, Sacramento Metropolitan Arts Commission.
➢ 2001 Produces Kings and Queens of Black Consciousness at San Francisco State University. Participants incl ded: Nathan and Julia Hare, Rev. Cecil Williams, Dr. Cornell West, Amiri and Amina Baraka, Ishamel Reed, Askia Toure, Avotja, Eddie Gale, Rudi Wongozi, Rev. Andriette Earl, Dr. Theophile Obenga, Elliott Bey, Ayodele Nzinga, Destiny, Tarika Lewis, Phavia Kujichagulia, Suzzette Celeste, Tureeda, Geoffrey Grier, Rev. Otis Lloyd, Kalamu Ya Salaam, Ptah Allah-El. Funded by Glide Church and Vanguard foundation.
➢ Video of Kings and Queens screened at New York International Independent film festival. In Newark on 9/11, stopped at airport by police.
➢ 2002 Transition of son Darrel at 38, suffered manic oppression.
➢ Publication of In the Crazy House Called America, essays.
➢ 2004 Produced San Francisco Black Radical Book Fair. Participants included Amiri and Amina Baraka, Nathan and Julia Hare, Al Young, Askia Toure, Kalamu Ya Salaam, Ishamel Reed, Sonia Sanchez, Reginald Lockett, Charlie Walker, Jamie Walker, Davey D, Opal Palmer Adisa, Devorah Major, Fillmore Slim, Rosebud Bitterdose, Sam Hamod, Ayodele Nzinga, Tarika Lewis.
➢ Published Land of My Daughters, poems, and Wish I Could Tell You The Truth, essays.
➢ Published issue of Black Bird Press Review newspaper.
➢ 2006 Writes Sweet Tea, Dirty Rice, poems; Up From Ignorance, essays; Beyond Religion, Toward Spirituality, essays; Mama Said Use The Mind God Gave You, autobiographical novel.
➢ Archives sold to University of California, Berkeley, Bancroft Library.
➢ Transition of friends: Dr. Salat Townsend, Paula Shular, Alonzo Batin, Dewey Redman and Rufus Harley.
➢ Online writings appear at www.nathanielturner.com, www.aalbc.com, www.konch.com
Posted by marvinx at 8:51 PM 0 comments Links to this post
Thursday, December 7, 2006
The Nigguh Question
by Marvin X
The black culture police are at it again, lead running dog is Rev. Jesse Jackson, perhaps the most hypocritical culture policeman on the scene--especially after leading president Clinton in prayer over Monica while himself engaged in extramarital shenanigans.
The culture police continue to focus on the N word as in Nigguh or Nigger, depending on whether one is into Ebonics or Euronics. Now Nigguh/Nigger has become a billion dollar word, thanks to rappers. It is used around the world on the rap scene and used by the multicultural hip hop generation. Yes, a white boy, Asian, Latino or others can be called nigguh. Language is fluid and dynamic, not static, thus, definitions of words, connotations and denotations change with time. The conservative cultural police are stuck in a time warp, suffer cultural lag and other psycho pathologies. They want to deal with surface structure rather than deep structure issues. They abhor the term motherfucker while they fuck their mothers and daughters, even sons. They abhor the term nigguh because they are the real nigguhs, faking like they black. As James Brown says in one of his songs, "Talkin Black but living negro."
As a writer, I am opposed to censorship in any way, for any reason. Nigguh is one of the most powerful words in the American language, certainly in the language of North American Africans, and it's silly to think we are going to stop using the N word--I am not, so Nigguh please tell the culture police to kiss my black nigguh ass.
If there were people in my audience talking or heckling me, I would/will tell them to get their black nigguh asses out my concert, or come up to the mike and take over, since it is obviously their show and they have something important to say to the audience.
It is time for political correctness to enter the dustbin of history. Call a spade a spade and stop tweeking. How in the hell can we get mad at the white boy when we use nigguh every day of our lives. And when we ain't using nigguh, for sure we are acting like nigguhs, talkin loud, saying nothing--or more precisely doing nothing.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Islam Needs A Martin Luther
Islam Needs a Martin Luther
By Marvin X
The Islamic world needs a Martin Luther, someone to usher in an Age of Reform that will radically alter some of the fundamental values of Islam that are retrograde, archaic, primitive and must be discarded into the dustbin of Muslim history so that Islam can regain its position as a culture of enlightenment rather than darkness.
At an Islamic Art Conference I attended this past weekend in Oakland, California, along with Muslims from around the world, there was discussion of how Islam has suppressed artists, calling Muslim art haram (religiously proscribed), shirk (associating partners with God) and other negative terms that essentially condemn Islamic art as evil. When I addressed the audience, I noted that I am the “father of Islamic literature in America” by default because other Muslim writers were told to give up the art of writing, creative anyway, but I ignored the ban and thus my work is all that remains, aside from poet Sam Hamad and a few others who’ve written during the last forty years that may surface with proper research. Not only writers, but painters, musicians, dancers, singers and others were suppressed. Even minister Farrakhan, a musician and singer, was made to give up his art.
But we know it is artists who give people visions and prophecy, thus when they are suppressed, the people are likely to walk in darkness as we see at the present moment.
In my remarks at the conference, I challenged the Muslim artists to be revolutionary and yes, disobedient—to hell with those who desire to suppress Muslim art, they are the backward ones, they are the evil ones and must be opposed by, yes, any means necessary.
So much that goes for Islam is ancient and primitive, really, not worthy of discussion in the modern world among people of intelligence. Elijah Muhammad used to say the wisdom of this world is exhausted, and this includes Islam. It must be revolutionized or thrown into the dustbin of ancient thought.
The Islamic revolution must, will and shall be led by Muslim artists with vision for a day when Islamic culture will be the vanguard of world culture, projecting the most positive and scientific aspects of the new millennium.
Islamic culture must come from behind the veil, or if anything, put the veil on men and let the women march forth as harbingers of the new world order. Contrary to what men think, women have been found to be the most advanced sector of society, intellectually and spiritually, so we would do well to listen to them for answers to the right path. Clearly, Muslim men are not on sirat al-mustaqim (“the straight path”). Over a billion people of Islamic faith are currently steeped in poverty, ignorance and disease, wallowing in political oppression of the most backward, Stalinist variety. And when the politicians are not oppressing, the mullahs and Imams do the same work, even to the point of following the Christians in the sexual exploitation of boys and girls.
Let a Muslim Martin Luther step to the front of the line and represent the way of truth, freedom, justice and equality. Muslim collaborators with imperialism, colonialism, and all manner of retrograde religiosity and political oppression must be condemned. Islamic scholars whose theology is based on primitive laws, edicts, fatwas must be ostracized because their actions only add to the utter confusion and ignorance pervading the Muslim world.
Surely, the destruction the Tsunami brought to South Asia is a sign of Allah’s displeasure with the Muslim people, along with Christians, Hindus and others. If we continue down the path of primitive worship of myths and rituals, surely Allah has even greater destruction planned for those without eyes, ears, the deaf, dumb and blind. After Allah has blessed us with light, how can we yet walk in darkness? How can we possess “supreme wisdom” yet have nothing, behave as spiritual slaves to any storefront imam with a rote memory of Al-Qur’an?
Let a Martin Luther Muslim arise to destroy idols of ignorance and suppression of creativity. Yes, let everything praise Allah, from the flute to the lute, from the dancer to the poet.
Marvin X is a distinguished poet, playwright and essayist of the Black Arts Movement (BAM). He is the founder and director of Recovery Theatre in San Francisco. He also co-founded the Black Arts/West Theatre and Black House, which served briefly as the headquarters for the Black Panther Party and as a center for performance, theatre, poetry and music in the Bay Area. Marvin X continues to work as a lecturer, teacher and producer.
By Marvin X
The Islamic world needs a Martin Luther, someone to usher in an Age of Reform that will radically alter some of the fundamental values of Islam that are retrograde, archaic, primitive and must be discarded into the dustbin of Muslim history so that Islam can regain its position as a culture of enlightenment rather than darkness.
At an Islamic Art Conference I attended this past weekend in Oakland, California, along with Muslims from around the world, there was discussion of how Islam has suppressed artists, calling Muslim art haram (religiously proscribed), shirk (associating partners with God) and other negative terms that essentially condemn Islamic art as evil. When I addressed the audience, I noted that I am the “father of Islamic literature in America” by default because other Muslim writers were told to give up the art of writing, creative anyway, but I ignored the ban and thus my work is all that remains, aside from poet Sam Hamad and a few others who’ve written during the last forty years that may surface with proper research. Not only writers, but painters, musicians, dancers, singers and others were suppressed. Even minister Farrakhan, a musician and singer, was made to give up his art.
But we know it is artists who give people visions and prophecy, thus when they are suppressed, the people are likely to walk in darkness as we see at the present moment.
In my remarks at the conference, I challenged the Muslim artists to be revolutionary and yes, disobedient—to hell with those who desire to suppress Muslim art, they are the backward ones, they are the evil ones and must be opposed by, yes, any means necessary.
So much that goes for Islam is ancient and primitive, really, not worthy of discussion in the modern world among people of intelligence. Elijah Muhammad used to say the wisdom of this world is exhausted, and this includes Islam. It must be revolutionized or thrown into the dustbin of ancient thought.
The Islamic revolution must, will and shall be led by Muslim artists with vision for a day when Islamic culture will be the vanguard of world culture, projecting the most positive and scientific aspects of the new millennium.
Islamic culture must come from behind the veil, or if anything, put the veil on men and let the women march forth as harbingers of the new world order. Contrary to what men think, women have been found to be the most advanced sector of society, intellectually and spiritually, so we would do well to listen to them for answers to the right path. Clearly, Muslim men are not on sirat al-mustaqim (“the straight path”). Over a billion people of Islamic faith are currently steeped in poverty, ignorance and disease, wallowing in political oppression of the most backward, Stalinist variety. And when the politicians are not oppressing, the mullahs and Imams do the same work, even to the point of following the Christians in the sexual exploitation of boys and girls.
Let a Muslim Martin Luther step to the front of the line and represent the way of truth, freedom, justice and equality. Muslim collaborators with imperialism, colonialism, and all manner of retrograde religiosity and political oppression must be condemned. Islamic scholars whose theology is based on primitive laws, edicts, fatwas must be ostracized because their actions only add to the utter confusion and ignorance pervading the Muslim world.
Surely, the destruction the Tsunami brought to South Asia is a sign of Allah’s displeasure with the Muslim people, along with Christians, Hindus and others. If we continue down the path of primitive worship of myths and rituals, surely Allah has even greater destruction planned for those without eyes, ears, the deaf, dumb and blind. After Allah has blessed us with light, how can we yet walk in darkness? How can we possess “supreme wisdom” yet have nothing, behave as spiritual slaves to any storefront imam with a rote memory of Al-Qur’an?
Let a Martin Luther Muslim arise to destroy idols of ignorance and suppression of creativity. Yes, let everything praise Allah, from the flute to the lute, from the dancer to the poet.
Marvin X is a distinguished poet, playwright and essayist of the Black Arts Movement (BAM). He is the founder and director of Recovery Theatre in San Francisco. He also co-founded the Black Arts/West Theatre and Black House, which served briefly as the headquarters for the Black Panther Party and as a center for performance, theatre, poetry and music in the Bay Area. Marvin X continues to work as a lecturer, teacher and producer.
Can You Believe It
Can You Believe It
Can you believe it
this guy is impossible
does he actually exist
or really a ghost like casper
white yet not even that
you can't believe what you see
so don't look, turn yr head
might blow yo mind
this guy
would he kill is moma?
yes, over bubble gum
would he cause 9/11
in a minute
he got you hatin yo brother
will kill him at drop of hat
but does he actually exist
like bush walks like no other man
have you ever seen a man walk like bush
it ain't shit in his pants, hope not anyway
but why he walk like that
something strange bout that guy
is he really a guy
might be casper with a cowboy hat
but you be careful
this guy plays dirty pool
will give guns to sunnis to kill shites
will give guns to shites to kill sunnis
will give guns to fatah to kill hamas
will give guns to hamas to kill fatah
will give guns to fatah islam to kill hezballah
will give guns to hezballah to kill fatah islam
you can't figure this out
call it a brain twister
but is there a brain up there in that head we see on tv
ain't really a head just a form of water configured
by some ghost from time beyond time
so don't get spooked
cause you see the news
it ain't news you see
it a movie
the guys sell them on the block for two dollars
you bought one last night on the way home
it wouldn't play remember
like the news
it ain't even real
like that guy you love
the one you voted for
or the one you din't vote for
don't matter
the ghost is the same in the night.
--Marvin X
Can you believe it
this guy is impossible
does he actually exist
or really a ghost like casper
white yet not even that
you can't believe what you see
so don't look, turn yr head
might blow yo mind
this guy
would he kill is moma?
yes, over bubble gum
would he cause 9/11
in a minute
he got you hatin yo brother
will kill him at drop of hat
but does he actually exist
like bush walks like no other man
have you ever seen a man walk like bush
it ain't shit in his pants, hope not anyway
but why he walk like that
something strange bout that guy
is he really a guy
might be casper with a cowboy hat
but you be careful
this guy plays dirty pool
will give guns to sunnis to kill shites
will give guns to shites to kill sunnis
will give guns to fatah to kill hamas
will give guns to hamas to kill fatah
will give guns to fatah islam to kill hezballah
will give guns to hezballah to kill fatah islam
you can't figure this out
call it a brain twister
but is there a brain up there in that head we see on tv
ain't really a head just a form of water configured
by some ghost from time beyond time
so don't get spooked
cause you see the news
it ain't news you see
it a movie
the guys sell them on the block for two dollars
you bought one last night on the way home
it wouldn't play remember
like the news
it ain't even real
like that guy you love
the one you voted for
or the one you din't vote for
don't matter
the ghost is the same in the night.
--Marvin X
The Psycho-linguistic Crisis of the North American African
The Psycho-linguistic Crisis of the North American African
from In the Crazy House Called America, essays, 2003, by Marvin X, Black Bird Press
Marvin X
I have long wanted to discuss language problems relating to the psychology of the oppressed. Let's begin with the notion that the oppressed is a disoriented person suffering symptoms of amnesia :he is not quite sure who he is, where he is, where he came from or where he is going.
We know to a great extent he was stripped of his cultural trappings and forced to don the apparel of the so-called negro, for American slavery would not allow him to retain knowledge of his African self--it was a danger to the slave master's plan of eternal servitude. So the proud African was beaten down from Kunta Kinte to Toby, perhaps the first level in his psycho-linguistic crisis: who am I, what is my name? Once in the Americas, he was no longer Yoruba, Hausa, Ibo, Congo, Ashante but Negro, and according to Grimm's law (the consonants C,K, and G being interchangeable) he was a dead, from the Greek Necro, something dead, lifeless, without motion and spirit. Of course, he retained some of his African consciousness in the deep structure of his mind, in the bowels of his soul and he expressed it in his dance, his love life, his work habits, his songs and shouts, but basically he was a trumatized victim of kidnapping, rape and mass murder--genocide, for after all, when it was all said and done, between 50 and 100 million of his brothers and sisters were lost in the Middle Passage, the voyage between Africa and the Americas, thrown to the sharks that trailing slave ships, one of which was named Jesus, perhaps the same one whose captain had the miraculous conversion and wrote the song Amazing Grace! But changing the African into Negro was a primary problem in terms of identity which persists until today, even as we speak a new generation is now in crisis trying to decide whether they shall be called by Christian, Muslim or traditional African names, trying to decide whether they are Americans, Afro-Americans, African-Americans, Bilalians, Khemites, Sudanese, or North American Africans.
With this term I've tried to emphasize our cultural roots by making Africa the noun rather than the adjective. Also, I wanted to identify us geo-politically: we are Africans on the continent of North America, as opposed to Africans in Central and South America, the Caribbean, Europe, Asia or the Motherland. As such, we are unique and have created an original African Culture in North America, imitated throughout the world.
The whole world wants to talk like us, dance like us, sing like us, dress like us: we have the highest standard of living of any Africans in the world and are thus in the position of leadership even though we lack any degree of National sovereignty, are yet a defacto Nation, albeit captive and colonized, exploited 24/7 by any pimp fearless enough to enter the ghetto, and there are many from around the world, including Asians, Arabs, Jews, Africans, West Indians, and Latins. I refuse to be sympathetic to anyone exploiting North American Africans--call me anti Pan African, anti Third World, whatever, but don't pimp my people and expect me to accept it because you're from Africa or Jamaica. I wouldn't go to Jamaica and exploit Jamaicans, then have the nerve to refer to them as "you people." I would be nice and diplomatic on their turf--then talk about them when I got home.
We are often derided by our African and Caribbean brothers, sometimes called "black Americans" but often simply "Americans," said in the most derogatory manner, as if we're dirt or feces, meanwhile they are in America enjoying the benefits of our struggle with the white man. If everything is so cool in Jamaica, why did they leave their Island in the sun?
With the last statement, we enter the Pan African psycholinguistic crisis, transcending the borders of North America, and perhaps the crisis of the North American African cannot be understood except in terms of the international Pan African struggle for liberation from neo-colonialism, the last stage of imperialism. The colonized man--wherever he is, wherever he's from--is a sick man, mentally ill. And as Franz Fanon pointed out, the only way the colonized man can regain his mental health is through the act and process of revolution. Dr. Nathan Hare tells us in his introduction to my autobiography SOMETHIN' PROPER, that neither messianic religiosity nor chemical dependency will free us. We must grab the bull by the horns or slay the dragon.
I referred to an African as black brother recently. He responded, "Why do you call me that?" "What do you want me to call you," I asked. He said, "Call me gentleman." And the beat goes on. Here was a man blacker than night, ashamed of himself, preferring to be called a gentle man rather than Black man, once proud, but now whipped into gentleness, or servility, expressing clearly the mark of oppression, the mark of the beast.
The recent discussion of Ebonics was most certainly an example of the psycholinguistic crisis of North American Africans. Of course we are bilingual, with one pattern of speech used in the "slave huts" and one for the "big house." Technically, if we were able to deconstruct the language of the "slave huts" we would be in a position to deconstruct the "big house" language as well. And why shouldn't deconstruction of the Mother Tongue be the point of departure for acquiring language skills? Let's start with the child's primary language and build; teach the child that even his so-called slang, dialect or African speech patterns can be examined and explained according to the rules of grammar, the universal rules of grammar, i.e., the science of linguistics. Is there any sound, any speech pattern in any language that cannot be explained and thus respected on a scientific level?
We know that no matter what language Africans speak, whether English, Spanish, French, Portuguese, we speak it from an African speech pattern, from an African grammatical structure. Is there a genetic basis for this phenomenon, I'm not sure, but its existence appears universal throughout Pan Africa.
Nigger or Nigguh has caused the most severe psycholinguistic crisis among North American Africans. Earlier we traced its etymology to the Greek Necro, something dead, which is more befitting and functional than the Spanish Negro (black), or Niger, from the river. We became dead beings in the transformation from Africa to America, so quiet as its kept, Negro is very appropriate to call us. Of course the Honorable Eliajah Muhammad said we were so-called Negroes and therefore not truly Negroes, but temporarily under the spell of white magic--white power--which caused us to be deaf, dumb and blind to the knowledge of self and others, therefore dead. We had become the living dead, dispised and rejected around the world, even today, although the vailent struggle of the 60s put us in a more favorable light in the eyes of the world. The dead socalled Negro awakened and shook off the chains on his brain and let the world know he was no longer dead, no longer a tool and fool of the white man. He rejected being called Negro and Nigger and became Black man, the Aboriginal Asiatic Black man, ruler of the planet earth, god of the universe. For a moment, it appeared he truly believed this mythology, which was as valid as any other mythology, at least it was original and Afrocentric. But with the destruction of the black liberation movement, we can say the Negro returned, as per plan of the U.S.A.'s counter intelligence program, Cointelpro: kill the black man and bring back the Negro or shall we say the Nigger that the Master used to know, and to make sure he remains dead, introduce CRACK to make him a first class zombie, the corpse of a man.
Imagine, for the first time in history, the black women lost her ass behind crack, meanwhile the white woman was at Gold's gym working on acquiring an ass, which I must admit, she has obtained. But this point takes us off course into psychosomatics. Let's stay with psycholinguistics.
In the 70s, 80s and 90s, the so-called Negro has been fighting to erase the N word from our vocabulary, particularly brothers in prison who have been the most negroid in their death dealing criminality. Perhaps in their guilt, they have been trying to purify their behavior and speech to gain self respect and dignity--if caught using the N word, they will require the user to do any number of pushups. This is very noble, but the reality is that the N word has now transcended the North American African community and is in wide use by Asian, Latin and white youth who call each other nigguh as a badge of honor. We no longer have a monopoly on our language, and this is another reason for the present crisis: our culture is forever eluding our control, consequently making us the most insecure people on earth. We have lost everything on the good ship America--for three centuries we lost complete and total control over the fruits of our labor, the primary source of security. How else does one secure the family, the women and children?
Not long ago, I heard rappers discussing their tour of Italy. Upon arriving at the airport, the first thing they heard Italian youth discussing was how many "Bitches" they had, obviously influenced by hip hop culture or shall we say specifically gansta rap--yeah, ganstas who when caught are ignorant of a preliminary hearing. But let us deconstruct the controversial term BITCH. Besides Nigger or Nigguh, no other term has caused more controversy of late, no other term has created a crisis situation among North American Africa, prompting the Million Man Marchers to vow never to use the term again. They claimed it demeaned the black woman, the mother of civilization. My personal view is that crack culture demeaned the black man and women to the extent that the term "bitch" has taken on new meaning and now refers to both male and female, and a discussion of the term cannot be limited to the feminine gender. Youth in the dope culture will quickly address a tweeking, fumbing OG as "punk bitch." For example, to a male they will say, "Punk-bitch, you better take this dope and get the fuck up outta here wit da quickness." This sentence is most indicative of the pyscholinguistic crisis because it reveals the utter destruction of filial piety (respect or duty of children to elders) in the North American African community. When adults began buying crack from children, children saw the utter weakness in the older generation and lost total respect which was expressed in verbal denunciations such as "punk bitch." In my recovery drama ONE DAY IN THE LIFE, a youth confronts the late Huey Newton and myself with the following words as we sat in a West Oakland crack house: "Yeah, you nigguhs is dope fiends, you ain't no revolutionaries, so don't say shit to me bout no program. How you gon buy dope from me and my podnas--I mean, I'm in recovery now but when I was a dealer, you couldn't come to me and tell me you some revolutionaries--you some punk-bitch nigguhs. When you get your shit together we'll have some respect fa ya, but until then, don't talk to us bout no revolution, O.G., cause if I saw ya comin on my turf, I'd make a movie out that ass, podna. Don't be no walkin contradiction ma nigguhs."
My associate, J.B. Saunders, asked me to include a word-picture of male "bitch behavior" as expressed in the crack ritual. An example of this comes from the obserevation of monkeys when the female is ready to present herself to the male. She will go to a corner of a cage or by a tree and exposed her rear end to the male, letting hm know he can come and get her or know her as the Bible says. In the crack house, the male bitch will expose his posterior in his ritual of crawling on all fours around the room, supposedly looking for crack, but mainly picking up lint and other particles, even chips of dry wall. The ultimately expression of male bitch behavior is the so-called straight guy who under desperation, i,e. , when the tweeking ritual is exhausted, will present his posterior to the dope dealer--accompanied with the words "I'll do anything for another hit," and perform homosexual acts to obtain more crack, but in his psycho-linguistic crisis he adamantly denies he is gay, all the while swallowing the dope dealer's penis and cum. The worse bitch in the world is the bitch in denial! And even that bitch will--in a moment of scandalous activity declare, "I know I'm a bitch." But why bitch? My views on the matter are prejudiced by the fact that I grew up in a house with six sisters who referred to themselves as bitches--and I must say, many times acted like bitches, if we mean behavior unbecoming a woman--such behavior being acceptable only during PMS or pregnancy! But is it demeaning to say, "That's a fine bitch!" We know words only have the power we give them, i.e., we define words. Bourgeoisie culture cannot define mass culture or the culture of the grass roots. A rich man cannot tell a poor man what to say. If a rich man comes to the poor man's community, he better talk like a poor man or he may be a dead man! Those who want to criminalize black language are in many cases people who are in the business of criminalizing black people for the benefit of the real criminals, the Masters of the Realm. Not only do you not like the way I talk, but you don't like my dress, my eating habits, my choice of drugs, they way I pray and the loud manner of my worship, how I earn a living--my hair or non-hair--actually, you don't like anything about me, in fact, you wish I were dead, if fact, you do everything you can to kill me, in fact, you have now made a new industry of confining me for life without the possibility of parole.
From a writer's perspective, a poet, much of endgame in the psycholinguistic crisis is censorship, pure and simple, a violation of First Amendment rights and human rights. I have a right to say what I want to say the way I want to say it. This is an old tired discussion we encountered thirty years ago in the Black Arts/Black Culture revolution of the 60s: shall we define ourselves or the shall the masters and their pitiful bourgeoisie imps impose their definitions, their hypocritical, perverted moral standards. If a bitch is bitch call her a bitch. If yo mama is a bitch call her a bitch. If your wife is a bitch call it, your daughters call it. The worse bitch in the world is the bitch in denial. And as I've said, men are known to be bitches too!
There was a time when we were kings and queens, in Africa and during the 60s in America, but this was B.C., before crack. With the coming of crack, we reduced ourselves beyond slavery. We returned to the auction block of the crack house, and indeed, in fact, became bitches and hoes. With crack, the sexual etiquette of North American Africans has been forever altered and whether we will again reach the level of kings and queens depends more on the success of our total liberation than our correct grammatical structure, after all, we see Asians, Arabs, Latins, come to America and get rich while speaking no English, yet we are being deluded by our leaders into believing we must speak the Kings English in order to be successful. If nothing else, the rappers have shown us they can make millions for themselves and billions for the white man utilizing three words: bitch, hoe and motherfucker. The tragic reality is that the black bourgeoisie failed to teach inner city youth proper English or anything proper for that matter, so the upper class must reap with rewards of neglect, in the form of their children as well, enraptured by rap and thus incomprehensible to the middle-class parents--as my daughter has said, "You might not like rap, but if you want to understand me, you better try to understand rap." To paraphrase Eryka Badu, the psycholinguistic crisis goes on and on......on and on.....
from In the Crazy House Called America, essays, 2003, by Marvin X, Black Bird Press
Marvin X
I have long wanted to discuss language problems relating to the psychology of the oppressed. Let's begin with the notion that the oppressed is a disoriented person suffering symptoms of amnesia :he is not quite sure who he is, where he is, where he came from or where he is going.
We know to a great extent he was stripped of his cultural trappings and forced to don the apparel of the so-called negro, for American slavery would not allow him to retain knowledge of his African self--it was a danger to the slave master's plan of eternal servitude. So the proud African was beaten down from Kunta Kinte to Toby, perhaps the first level in his psycho-linguistic crisis: who am I, what is my name? Once in the Americas, he was no longer Yoruba, Hausa, Ibo, Congo, Ashante but Negro, and according to Grimm's law (the consonants C,K, and G being interchangeable) he was a dead, from the Greek Necro, something dead, lifeless, without motion and spirit. Of course, he retained some of his African consciousness in the deep structure of his mind, in the bowels of his soul and he expressed it in his dance, his love life, his work habits, his songs and shouts, but basically he was a trumatized victim of kidnapping, rape and mass murder--genocide, for after all, when it was all said and done, between 50 and 100 million of his brothers and sisters were lost in the Middle Passage, the voyage between Africa and the Americas, thrown to the sharks that trailing slave ships, one of which was named Jesus, perhaps the same one whose captain had the miraculous conversion and wrote the song Amazing Grace! But changing the African into Negro was a primary problem in terms of identity which persists until today, even as we speak a new generation is now in crisis trying to decide whether they shall be called by Christian, Muslim or traditional African names, trying to decide whether they are Americans, Afro-Americans, African-Americans, Bilalians, Khemites, Sudanese, or North American Africans.
With this term I've tried to emphasize our cultural roots by making Africa the noun rather than the adjective. Also, I wanted to identify us geo-politically: we are Africans on the continent of North America, as opposed to Africans in Central and South America, the Caribbean, Europe, Asia or the Motherland. As such, we are unique and have created an original African Culture in North America, imitated throughout the world.
The whole world wants to talk like us, dance like us, sing like us, dress like us: we have the highest standard of living of any Africans in the world and are thus in the position of leadership even though we lack any degree of National sovereignty, are yet a defacto Nation, albeit captive and colonized, exploited 24/7 by any pimp fearless enough to enter the ghetto, and there are many from around the world, including Asians, Arabs, Jews, Africans, West Indians, and Latins. I refuse to be sympathetic to anyone exploiting North American Africans--call me anti Pan African, anti Third World, whatever, but don't pimp my people and expect me to accept it because you're from Africa or Jamaica. I wouldn't go to Jamaica and exploit Jamaicans, then have the nerve to refer to them as "you people." I would be nice and diplomatic on their turf--then talk about them when I got home.
We are often derided by our African and Caribbean brothers, sometimes called "black Americans" but often simply "Americans," said in the most derogatory manner, as if we're dirt or feces, meanwhile they are in America enjoying the benefits of our struggle with the white man. If everything is so cool in Jamaica, why did they leave their Island in the sun?
With the last statement, we enter the Pan African psycholinguistic crisis, transcending the borders of North America, and perhaps the crisis of the North American African cannot be understood except in terms of the international Pan African struggle for liberation from neo-colonialism, the last stage of imperialism. The colonized man--wherever he is, wherever he's from--is a sick man, mentally ill. And as Franz Fanon pointed out, the only way the colonized man can regain his mental health is through the act and process of revolution. Dr. Nathan Hare tells us in his introduction to my autobiography SOMETHIN' PROPER, that neither messianic religiosity nor chemical dependency will free us. We must grab the bull by the horns or slay the dragon.
I referred to an African as black brother recently. He responded, "Why do you call me that?" "What do you want me to call you," I asked. He said, "Call me gentleman." And the beat goes on. Here was a man blacker than night, ashamed of himself, preferring to be called a gentle man rather than Black man, once proud, but now whipped into gentleness, or servility, expressing clearly the mark of oppression, the mark of the beast.
The recent discussion of Ebonics was most certainly an example of the psycholinguistic crisis of North American Africans. Of course we are bilingual, with one pattern of speech used in the "slave huts" and one for the "big house." Technically, if we were able to deconstruct the language of the "slave huts" we would be in a position to deconstruct the "big house" language as well. And why shouldn't deconstruction of the Mother Tongue be the point of departure for acquiring language skills? Let's start with the child's primary language and build; teach the child that even his so-called slang, dialect or African speech patterns can be examined and explained according to the rules of grammar, the universal rules of grammar, i.e., the science of linguistics. Is there any sound, any speech pattern in any language that cannot be explained and thus respected on a scientific level?
We know that no matter what language Africans speak, whether English, Spanish, French, Portuguese, we speak it from an African speech pattern, from an African grammatical structure. Is there a genetic basis for this phenomenon, I'm not sure, but its existence appears universal throughout Pan Africa.
Nigger or Nigguh has caused the most severe psycholinguistic crisis among North American Africans. Earlier we traced its etymology to the Greek Necro, something dead, which is more befitting and functional than the Spanish Negro (black), or Niger, from the river. We became dead beings in the transformation from Africa to America, so quiet as its kept, Negro is very appropriate to call us. Of course the Honorable Eliajah Muhammad said we were so-called Negroes and therefore not truly Negroes, but temporarily under the spell of white magic--white power--which caused us to be deaf, dumb and blind to the knowledge of self and others, therefore dead. We had become the living dead, dispised and rejected around the world, even today, although the vailent struggle of the 60s put us in a more favorable light in the eyes of the world. The dead socalled Negro awakened and shook off the chains on his brain and let the world know he was no longer dead, no longer a tool and fool of the white man. He rejected being called Negro and Nigger and became Black man, the Aboriginal Asiatic Black man, ruler of the planet earth, god of the universe. For a moment, it appeared he truly believed this mythology, which was as valid as any other mythology, at least it was original and Afrocentric. But with the destruction of the black liberation movement, we can say the Negro returned, as per plan of the U.S.A.'s counter intelligence program, Cointelpro: kill the black man and bring back the Negro or shall we say the Nigger that the Master used to know, and to make sure he remains dead, introduce CRACK to make him a first class zombie, the corpse of a man.
Imagine, for the first time in history, the black women lost her ass behind crack, meanwhile the white woman was at Gold's gym working on acquiring an ass, which I must admit, she has obtained. But this point takes us off course into psychosomatics. Let's stay with psycholinguistics.
In the 70s, 80s and 90s, the so-called Negro has been fighting to erase the N word from our vocabulary, particularly brothers in prison who have been the most negroid in their death dealing criminality. Perhaps in their guilt, they have been trying to purify their behavior and speech to gain self respect and dignity--if caught using the N word, they will require the user to do any number of pushups. This is very noble, but the reality is that the N word has now transcended the North American African community and is in wide use by Asian, Latin and white youth who call each other nigguh as a badge of honor. We no longer have a monopoly on our language, and this is another reason for the present crisis: our culture is forever eluding our control, consequently making us the most insecure people on earth. We have lost everything on the good ship America--for three centuries we lost complete and total control over the fruits of our labor, the primary source of security. How else does one secure the family, the women and children?
Not long ago, I heard rappers discussing their tour of Italy. Upon arriving at the airport, the first thing they heard Italian youth discussing was how many "Bitches" they had, obviously influenced by hip hop culture or shall we say specifically gansta rap--yeah, ganstas who when caught are ignorant of a preliminary hearing. But let us deconstruct the controversial term BITCH. Besides Nigger or Nigguh, no other term has caused more controversy of late, no other term has created a crisis situation among North American Africa, prompting the Million Man Marchers to vow never to use the term again. They claimed it demeaned the black woman, the mother of civilization. My personal view is that crack culture demeaned the black man and women to the extent that the term "bitch" has taken on new meaning and now refers to both male and female, and a discussion of the term cannot be limited to the feminine gender. Youth in the dope culture will quickly address a tweeking, fumbing OG as "punk bitch." For example, to a male they will say, "Punk-bitch, you better take this dope and get the fuck up outta here wit da quickness." This sentence is most indicative of the pyscholinguistic crisis because it reveals the utter destruction of filial piety (respect or duty of children to elders) in the North American African community. When adults began buying crack from children, children saw the utter weakness in the older generation and lost total respect which was expressed in verbal denunciations such as "punk bitch." In my recovery drama ONE DAY IN THE LIFE, a youth confronts the late Huey Newton and myself with the following words as we sat in a West Oakland crack house: "Yeah, you nigguhs is dope fiends, you ain't no revolutionaries, so don't say shit to me bout no program. How you gon buy dope from me and my podnas--I mean, I'm in recovery now but when I was a dealer, you couldn't come to me and tell me you some revolutionaries--you some punk-bitch nigguhs. When you get your shit together we'll have some respect fa ya, but until then, don't talk to us bout no revolution, O.G., cause if I saw ya comin on my turf, I'd make a movie out that ass, podna. Don't be no walkin contradiction ma nigguhs."
My associate, J.B. Saunders, asked me to include a word-picture of male "bitch behavior" as expressed in the crack ritual. An example of this comes from the obserevation of monkeys when the female is ready to present herself to the male. She will go to a corner of a cage or by a tree and exposed her rear end to the male, letting hm know he can come and get her or know her as the Bible says. In the crack house, the male bitch will expose his posterior in his ritual of crawling on all fours around the room, supposedly looking for crack, but mainly picking up lint and other particles, even chips of dry wall. The ultimately expression of male bitch behavior is the so-called straight guy who under desperation, i,e. , when the tweeking ritual is exhausted, will present his posterior to the dope dealer--accompanied with the words "I'll do anything for another hit," and perform homosexual acts to obtain more crack, but in his psycho-linguistic crisis he adamantly denies he is gay, all the while swallowing the dope dealer's penis and cum. The worse bitch in the world is the bitch in denial! And even that bitch will--in a moment of scandalous activity declare, "I know I'm a bitch." But why bitch? My views on the matter are prejudiced by the fact that I grew up in a house with six sisters who referred to themselves as bitches--and I must say, many times acted like bitches, if we mean behavior unbecoming a woman--such behavior being acceptable only during PMS or pregnancy! But is it demeaning to say, "That's a fine bitch!" We know words only have the power we give them, i.e., we define words. Bourgeoisie culture cannot define mass culture or the culture of the grass roots. A rich man cannot tell a poor man what to say. If a rich man comes to the poor man's community, he better talk like a poor man or he may be a dead man! Those who want to criminalize black language are in many cases people who are in the business of criminalizing black people for the benefit of the real criminals, the Masters of the Realm. Not only do you not like the way I talk, but you don't like my dress, my eating habits, my choice of drugs, they way I pray and the loud manner of my worship, how I earn a living--my hair or non-hair--actually, you don't like anything about me, in fact, you wish I were dead, if fact, you do everything you can to kill me, in fact, you have now made a new industry of confining me for life without the possibility of parole.
From a writer's perspective, a poet, much of endgame in the psycholinguistic crisis is censorship, pure and simple, a violation of First Amendment rights and human rights. I have a right to say what I want to say the way I want to say it. This is an old tired discussion we encountered thirty years ago in the Black Arts/Black Culture revolution of the 60s: shall we define ourselves or the shall the masters and their pitiful bourgeoisie imps impose their definitions, their hypocritical, perverted moral standards. If a bitch is bitch call her a bitch. If yo mama is a bitch call her a bitch. If your wife is a bitch call it, your daughters call it. The worse bitch in the world is the bitch in denial. And as I've said, men are known to be bitches too!
There was a time when we were kings and queens, in Africa and during the 60s in America, but this was B.C., before crack. With the coming of crack, we reduced ourselves beyond slavery. We returned to the auction block of the crack house, and indeed, in fact, became bitches and hoes. With crack, the sexual etiquette of North American Africans has been forever altered and whether we will again reach the level of kings and queens depends more on the success of our total liberation than our correct grammatical structure, after all, we see Asians, Arabs, Latins, come to America and get rich while speaking no English, yet we are being deluded by our leaders into believing we must speak the Kings English in order to be successful. If nothing else, the rappers have shown us they can make millions for themselves and billions for the white man utilizing three words: bitch, hoe and motherfucker. The tragic reality is that the black bourgeoisie failed to teach inner city youth proper English or anything proper for that matter, so the upper class must reap with rewards of neglect, in the form of their children as well, enraptured by rap and thus incomprehensible to the middle-class parents--as my daughter has said, "You might not like rap, but if you want to understand me, you better try to understand rap." To paraphrase Eryka Badu, the psycholinguistic crisis goes on and on......on and on.....
The Writings of Marvin X
BEYOND RELIGION, TOWARD SPIRITUALITY, ESSAYS ON CONSCIOUSNESS
Black Bird Press
POB 1317
Paradise CA 95967
November, 2006
280 pages, $19.95
Marvin X has done extraordinary mind and soul work in bringing our attention to the importance of spirituality, as opposed to religion, in our daily living. Someone—maybe Kierkegaard or maybe it was George Fox who—said that there was no such thing as "Christianity." There can only be Christians. It is not institutions but rather individuals who make the meaningful differences in our world. It is not Islam but Muslims. Not Buddhism but Buddhists. Marvin X has made a courageous difference. In this book he shares the wondrous vision of his spiritual explorations. His eloquent language and rhetoric are varied—sophisticated but also earthy, sometimes both at once.
Highly informed he speaks to many societal levels and to both genders—to the intellectual as well as to the man/woman on the street or the unfortunate in prison—to the mind as well as the heart. His topics range from global politics and economics to those between men and women in their household. Common sense dominates his thought. He shuns political correctness for the truth of life. He is a Master Teacher in many fields of thought—religion and psychology, sociology and anthropology, history and politics, literature and the humanities. He is a needed Counselor, for he knows himself, on the deepest of personal levels and he reveals that self to us, that we might be his beneficiaries.
All of which are represented in his Radical Spirituality—a balm for those who anguish in these troubling times of disinformation. As a shaman himself, he calls too for a Radical Mythology to override the traditional mythologies of racial supremacy that foster war and injustice. If you want to reshape (clean up, raise) your consciousness, this is a book to savor, to read again, and again—to pass onto a friend or lover.
—Rudolph Lewis, Editor, ChickenBones: A Journal
In the Crazy House Called America
ISBN: 0964067218
Format: Paperback, 204pp
Pub. Date: January 2003
Publisher: Black Bird Press
In the Crazy House Called America is available from Black Bird Press, POB 1317, Paradise CA 95967, $19.95. Contact Marvin X at: mrvnx@yahoo.com.
"Rarely is a brother secure and honest enough with himself to reveal his innermost thoughts, emotions or his most hellacious life experiences. For most men it would be a monumental feat just to share/bare his soul with his closest friends but to do so to perfect strangers would be unthinkable, unless he had gone through the fires of life and emerged free of the dross that tarnishes his soul. Marvin X, poet, playwright, author and essayist does just that in a self-published book entitled In The Crazy House Called America.
This latest piece from Marvin X offers a peek into his soul and his psyche. He lets the reader know he is hip to the rabid oppression the West heaps upon people of color especially North American Africans while at the same time revealing the knowledge gleaned from his days as a student radical, black nationalist revolutionary forger of the Black Arts Movement, husband, father lover, a dogger of women did not spare him the degradation and agony of descending into the abyss of crack addiction, abusive and toxic relationships and family tragedy.
Perhaps because of the knowledge gained as a member of the Nation of Islam, and his experiences as one of the prime movers of the cultural revolution of the '60, the insights he shares In The Crazy House Called America are all the keener. Marvin writes candidly of his pain, bewilderment and depression of losing his son to suicide. He shares in a very powerful way, his own out of body helplessness as he wallowed in the dregs of an addiction that threatened to destroy his soul and the mess his addictions made of his life and relationships with those he loved. But he is not preachy and this is not an autobiography. He has already been there and done that. In sharing his story and the wisdom he has gleaned from his life experiences and looking at the world through the eyes of an artist/healer,.."
—Junious Ricardo Stanton
Love and War: Poems
by Marvin X. Preface by Lorenzo Thomas
Format: Paperback, 140pp.
ISBN: 0964967200
Publisher: Black Bird Press
Book of poetry by Black Arts activist, preface by Lorenzo Thomas. "When you listen to Tupac Shakur, E-40, Too Short, Master P or any other rappers out of the Bay Area of Cali, think of Marvin X. He laid the foundation and gave us the language to express Black male urban experience in a lyrical way." James G. Spady, Philadelphia New Observer.
Black Bird Press
POB 1317
Paradise CA 95967
November, 2006
280 pages, $19.95
Marvin X has done extraordinary mind and soul work in bringing our attention to the importance of spirituality, as opposed to religion, in our daily living. Someone—maybe Kierkegaard or maybe it was George Fox who—said that there was no such thing as "Christianity." There can only be Christians. It is not institutions but rather individuals who make the meaningful differences in our world. It is not Islam but Muslims. Not Buddhism but Buddhists. Marvin X has made a courageous difference. In this book he shares the wondrous vision of his spiritual explorations. His eloquent language and rhetoric are varied—sophisticated but also earthy, sometimes both at once.
Highly informed he speaks to many societal levels and to both genders—to the intellectual as well as to the man/woman on the street or the unfortunate in prison—to the mind as well as the heart. His topics range from global politics and economics to those between men and women in their household. Common sense dominates his thought. He shuns political correctness for the truth of life. He is a Master Teacher in many fields of thought—religion and psychology, sociology and anthropology, history and politics, literature and the humanities. He is a needed Counselor, for he knows himself, on the deepest of personal levels and he reveals that self to us, that we might be his beneficiaries.
All of which are represented in his Radical Spirituality—a balm for those who anguish in these troubling times of disinformation. As a shaman himself, he calls too for a Radical Mythology to override the traditional mythologies of racial supremacy that foster war and injustice. If you want to reshape (clean up, raise) your consciousness, this is a book to savor, to read again, and again—to pass onto a friend or lover.
—Rudolph Lewis, Editor, ChickenBones: A Journal
In the Crazy House Called America
ISBN: 0964067218
Format: Paperback, 204pp
Pub. Date: January 2003
Publisher: Black Bird Press
In the Crazy House Called America is available from Black Bird Press, POB 1317, Paradise CA 95967, $19.95. Contact Marvin X at: mrvnx@yahoo.com.
"Rarely is a brother secure and honest enough with himself to reveal his innermost thoughts, emotions or his most hellacious life experiences. For most men it would be a monumental feat just to share/bare his soul with his closest friends but to do so to perfect strangers would be unthinkable, unless he had gone through the fires of life and emerged free of the dross that tarnishes his soul. Marvin X, poet, playwright, author and essayist does just that in a self-published book entitled In The Crazy House Called America.
This latest piece from Marvin X offers a peek into his soul and his psyche. He lets the reader know he is hip to the rabid oppression the West heaps upon people of color especially North American Africans while at the same time revealing the knowledge gleaned from his days as a student radical, black nationalist revolutionary forger of the Black Arts Movement, husband, father lover, a dogger of women did not spare him the degradation and agony of descending into the abyss of crack addiction, abusive and toxic relationships and family tragedy.
Perhaps because of the knowledge gained as a member of the Nation of Islam, and his experiences as one of the prime movers of the cultural revolution of the '60, the insights he shares In The Crazy House Called America are all the keener. Marvin writes candidly of his pain, bewilderment and depression of losing his son to suicide. He shares in a very powerful way, his own out of body helplessness as he wallowed in the dregs of an addiction that threatened to destroy his soul and the mess his addictions made of his life and relationships with those he loved. But he is not preachy and this is not an autobiography. He has already been there and done that. In sharing his story and the wisdom he has gleaned from his life experiences and looking at the world through the eyes of an artist/healer,.."
—Junious Ricardo Stanton
Love and War: Poems
by Marvin X. Preface by Lorenzo Thomas
Format: Paperback, 140pp.
ISBN: 0964967200
Publisher: Black Bird Press
Book of poetry by Black Arts activist, preface by Lorenzo Thomas. "When you listen to Tupac Shakur, E-40, Too Short, Master P or any other rappers out of the Bay Area of Cali, think of Marvin X. He laid the foundation and gave us the language to express Black male urban experience in a lyrical way." James G. Spady, Philadelphia New Observer.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Beyond Religion, toward Spirituality Book Tour, 2007
Marvin X Book Tour Report
PHILADELPHIA
Marvin X's East coast book tour got off to a unfortunate note when Poet
Sonia Sanchez had to postpone hosting her book party for Marvin because
she suffered a fall and was hospitalized a few days before the
scheduled event. So the tour began with a reading (accompanied by Elliot Bey on
piano) at the University of Penn's WEB DUBOIS center, sponsored by
African American Studies, African American Resource Center and the Women's
Center. The event was a poetry reading by local spoken word artists,
especially those connected with Maurice Henderson's National Black
Poetry Tour. Marvin was asked to join the tour, and he agreed, especially
after hearing the poets. "The poets who read today have renewed my faith
in the power of poetry to free our people. In the beginning was the
word--if these poets and others like them can get their message to the
people, it will cause a paradigm shift in the hood--things will never be
the same, just as the Black Arts Movement helped change
consciousness in the 60s. Conscious spoken word and poetry can refocus our people on
liberation, personal and political, as opposed to the bitch, ho and
motherfucker message of much rap."
Later than evening at Robbins Book Store, Marvin X was given a proper
introduction by poet Lamont Steptoe, winner of the Pew award. He quoted
from an interview by Lee Hubbard, Marvin X Unplugged, see
quoted from the preface to Marvin's collection of essays, In the Crazy
House Called America, which called for a national general strike.
The poet dialogued with hip hop journalist Justin Soul One Bedford, a
Philly native, who recently interviewed Spike Lee. But much of Marvin's
comments were directed to the two young males traveling with him, aged
16 and 25. "All that I am doing now is to save these young men and
others like them. We must surround them with love to save their lives. We
have formed a dream team to save them, composed of their mother, uncles
and aunt." He suggested other parents, relatives and community members
do the same with their young males. As per young females, Nisa Ra,
Marvin's friend, former wife and mother of his daughter, Muhammida, is
consulting with him to write a book on how she raised their daughter, a
Howard University graduate, entrepreneur and filmmaker, Hip Hop: The New
World Order, go to www.suninleo.com.
Muhammida is filming her father's tour for a documentary on the Black Arts
Movement and Hip Hop. On Thursday, she will dialogue with her father at
the Medgar Evers College film series, 7pm. It is possible there will be
a screening of Marvin's film THE KINGS AND QUEENS OF BLACK
CONSCIOUSNESS, a video documentary he produced from the 2001 concert at San
Francisco State University, featuring Amina and Amiri Baraka, Dr. Cornel West,
Julia and Nathan Hare, Kalamu Ya Salaam, Rev. Cecil Williams of Glide
Church, Ishmael Reed, Askia Toure, Marvin X and many others.
Marvin was totally surprised to learn one audience member was his
comrade from the 60s liberation struggle, Muhammad Ahmad (Max Stanford,
Jr.), leader of RAM or the Revolutionary Action Movement. Marvin was
totally humbled when Muhammad introduced himself and exchanged his recently
published WE WILL RETURN IN THE WHIRLWIND, a history of Black Radical
Organizations.
PHILADELPHIA
Marvin X's East coast book tour got off to a unfortunate note when Poet
Sonia Sanchez had to postpone hosting her book party for Marvin because
she suffered a fall and was hospitalized a few days before the
scheduled event. So the tour began with a reading (accompanied by Elliot Bey on
piano) at the University of Penn's WEB DUBOIS center, sponsored by
African American Studies, African American Resource Center and the Women's
Center. The event was a poetry reading by local spoken word artists,
especially those connected with Maurice Henderson's National Black
Poetry Tour. Marvin was asked to join the tour, and he agreed, especially
after hearing the poets. "The poets who read today have renewed my faith
in the power of poetry to free our people. In the beginning was the
word--if these poets and others like them can get their message to the
people, it will cause a paradigm shift in the hood--things will never be
the same, just as the Black Arts Movement helped change
consciousness in the 60s. Conscious spoken word and poetry can refocus our people on
liberation, personal and political, as opposed to the bitch, ho and
motherfucker message of much rap."
Later than evening at Robbins Book Store, Marvin X was given a proper
introduction by poet Lamont Steptoe, winner of the Pew award. He quoted
from an interview by Lee Hubbard, Marvin X Unplugged, see
quoted from the preface to Marvin's collection of essays, In the Crazy
House Called America, which called for a national general strike.
The poet dialogued with hip hop journalist Justin Soul One Bedford, a
Philly native, who recently interviewed Spike Lee. But much of Marvin's
comments were directed to the two young males traveling with him, aged
16 and 25. "All that I am doing now is to save these young men and
others like them. We must surround them with love to save their lives. We
have formed a dream team to save them, composed of their mother, uncles
and aunt." He suggested other parents, relatives and community members
do the same with their young males. As per young females, Nisa Ra,
Marvin's friend, former wife and mother of his daughter, Muhammida, is
consulting with him to write a book on how she raised their daughter, a
Howard University graduate, entrepreneur and filmmaker, Hip Hop: The New
World Order, go to www.suninleo.com.
Muhammida is filming her father's tour for a documentary on the Black Arts
Movement and Hip Hop. On Thursday, she will dialogue with her father at
the Medgar Evers College film series, 7pm. It is possible there will be
a screening of Marvin's film THE KINGS AND QUEENS OF BLACK
CONSCIOUSNESS, a video documentary he produced from the 2001 concert at San
Francisco State University, featuring Amina and Amiri Baraka, Dr. Cornel West,
Julia and Nathan Hare, Kalamu Ya Salaam, Rev. Cecil Williams of Glide
Church, Ishmael Reed, Askia Toure, Marvin X and many others.
Marvin was totally surprised to learn one audience member was his
comrade from the 60s liberation struggle, Muhammad Ahmad (Max Stanford,
Jr.), leader of RAM or the Revolutionary Action Movement. Marvin was
totally humbled when Muhammad introduced himself and exchanged his recently
published WE WILL RETURN IN THE WHIRLWIND, a history of Black Radical
Organizations.
Marvin X Marches Into Harlem, 39 Years Later
Marvin X Marches Into Harlem, 39 Years Later
After 39 years since a public appearance inHarlem,
Marvin X returned to celebrate the birthday of Malcolm
X this past Saturday, May 19, 2007. He gotoff the A
train at 8th Ave. and 125th Street, and
before he knew it was caught up in the annual march
to shut down 125th Street in honor of Harlem's
greatest son, Malcolm X, organized by the December
12th Movement. But march he did, waving the red black
and green flag along with other protesters
who were accompanied by New York's finest. And the
march was 99% successful as merchants shuttered their
businesses from 1 to 4pm.
After an hour up and down 125th Street, Marvin
departed from the march at 125th and Malcolm X Blvd.
(Lenox Ave.) and headed to the Schomburg Library to
participate in a panel discussion of Malcolm X as a
writer. The panel was organized by activist Sam
Anderson and the Malcolm X Museum Trustees. The event
began with a video message from Maya Angelou, a
long-time friend of Malcolm and Betty Shabazz. She
read from a letter she had received from Malcolm
before his tragic death. The letter revealed his humor
and sense of urgency that was his style.
After a recitation of Sura Al Fatihah by brother Amir,
libation by Camille Yarbrough and greetings by Sister
Aisha Al Adawiya of the Schomburg and the Malcolm X
Museum, panelist were seated: Johanna Fernandez,
Cheryll Greene, Ester Iverem, Ewuare Osayande, Kevin
Powell, Askia Toure, Camille Yarbrough and Marvin X.
Moderator was journalist, author Herb Boyd.
The first round was introductions but realizing time
was limited, some panelists decided to expound on
Malcolm X as writer/activist. They told how Malcolm
influenced them and others in the liberation
struggle or as writers in general. Since all the
panelist were writers, I will let them give their
report in their words.
After the first round, there was only time for
three-minute closing remarks. The following is a
summary of my remarks: We must put Malcolm X in the
context of history, after all, he didn't jump out
of a box but was part of a radical tradition. We can
understand him by examining the writings of David
Walker in his Appeal, 1829, Henry Highland Garnett,
Martin Delaney and other radical writer/activists
from the 19th century. Further, we must study the
slave narratives, especially the Muslim slave
narratives because, after all, Malcolm was a
Muslim, so we must see him for the Islamic literary
tradition. His biography was yet another Muslim slave
narrative--on the theme of how I got ovah. Of course
his autobiography may be considered the
foundation of what is now being studied in academia as
the genre of Muslim American literature, although
black scholars have been sleeping on this genre
because of their Islamic bias, even though Muslim
American literature begins with North American
Africans as Dr. Mojah Kahf has declared, a professor
of English and Islamic literature at the University of
Arkansas. And further, we must place Malcolm X in line
with his immediate predecessors Marcus Garvey, Nobl
Drew Ali, Master Fard Muhammad and Elijah Muhammad. We must
understand that what happened between Elijah and
Malcolm was classic revolutionary activity. In
revolution shit happens, people are betrayed,
assassinated, there is jealousy and envy. We must
learn from these happenings, reconcile when possible
and continue the struggle. And finally, Malcolm in
particular and Islam in general had a great
influence on the Black Arts Movement. As Sonia Sanchez
has said, "We were all influenced by Malcolm and
Islam." This includes Askia Toure,Yusef, Iman, Amiri
Baraka, Larry Neal, Henry Dumas, Haki Madhubuti, Last
Poets, Barbara Ann Teer, Nikki Giovanni, Sun Ra,
Marvin X and others.
My "three minutes" ended with a reply to panelist
Amir, Kevin Powell and Ewuare Osayande who raised the
issue of white supremacy. I noted that I am presently
writing a book on How To Recover from the
Addiction to White Supremacy: A Pan African 12 Step
Model. There was audience laughter and applause when
I said the steps include detox, recovery and
discovery. Discovery is for those who have no
consciousness and must become aware then join the
cultural revolution.
View marvinx@youtube.com.
After 39 years since a public appearance inHarlem,
Marvin X returned to celebrate the birthday of Malcolm
X this past Saturday, May 19, 2007. He gotoff the A
train at 8th Ave. and 125th Street, and
before he knew it was caught up in the annual march
to shut down 125th Street in honor of Harlem's
greatest son, Malcolm X, organized by the December
12th Movement. But march he did, waving the red black
and green flag along with other protesters
who were accompanied by New York's finest. And the
march was 99% successful as merchants shuttered their
businesses from 1 to 4pm.
After an hour up and down 125th Street, Marvin
departed from the march at 125th and Malcolm X Blvd.
(Lenox Ave.) and headed to the Schomburg Library to
participate in a panel discussion of Malcolm X as a
writer. The panel was organized by activist Sam
Anderson and the Malcolm X Museum Trustees. The event
began with a video message from Maya Angelou, a
long-time friend of Malcolm and Betty Shabazz. She
read from a letter she had received from Malcolm
before his tragic death. The letter revealed his humor
and sense of urgency that was his style.
After a recitation of Sura Al Fatihah by brother Amir,
libation by Camille Yarbrough and greetings by Sister
Aisha Al Adawiya of the Schomburg and the Malcolm X
Museum, panelist were seated: Johanna Fernandez,
Cheryll Greene, Ester Iverem, Ewuare Osayande, Kevin
Powell, Askia Toure, Camille Yarbrough and Marvin X.
Moderator was journalist, author Herb Boyd.
The first round was introductions but realizing time
was limited, some panelists decided to expound on
Malcolm X as writer/activist. They told how Malcolm
influenced them and others in the liberation
struggle or as writers in general. Since all the
panelist were writers, I will let them give their
report in their words.
After the first round, there was only time for
three-minute closing remarks. The following is a
summary of my remarks: We must put Malcolm X in the
context of history, after all, he didn't jump out
of a box but was part of a radical tradition. We can
understand him by examining the writings of David
Walker in his Appeal, 1829, Henry Highland Garnett,
Martin Delaney and other radical writer/activists
from the 19th century. Further, we must study the
slave narratives, especially the Muslim slave
narratives because, after all, Malcolm was a
Muslim, so we must see him for the Islamic literary
tradition. His biography was yet another Muslim slave
narrative--on the theme of how I got ovah. Of course
his autobiography may be considered the
foundation of what is now being studied in academia as
the genre of Muslim American literature, although
black scholars have been sleeping on this genre
because of their Islamic bias, even though Muslim
American literature begins with North American
Africans as Dr. Mojah Kahf has declared, a professor
of English and Islamic literature at the University of
Arkansas. And further, we must place Malcolm X in line
with his immediate predecessors Marcus Garvey, Nobl
Drew Ali, Master Fard Muhammad and Elijah Muhammad. We must
understand that what happened between Elijah and
Malcolm was classic revolutionary activity. In
revolution shit happens, people are betrayed,
assassinated, there is jealousy and envy. We must
learn from these happenings, reconcile when possible
and continue the struggle. And finally, Malcolm in
particular and Islam in general had a great
influence on the Black Arts Movement. As Sonia Sanchez
has said, "We were all influenced by Malcolm and
Islam." This includes Askia Toure,Yusef, Iman, Amiri
Baraka, Larry Neal, Henry Dumas, Haki Madhubuti, Last
Poets, Barbara Ann Teer, Nikki Giovanni, Sun Ra,
Marvin X and others.
My "three minutes" ended with a reply to panelist
Amir, Kevin Powell and Ewuare Osayande who raised the
issue of white supremacy. I noted that I am presently
writing a book on How To Recover from the
Addiction to White Supremacy: A Pan African 12 Step
Model. There was audience laughter and applause when
I said the steps include detox, recovery and
discovery. Discovery is for those who have no
consciousness and must become aware then join the
cultural revolution.
View marvinx@youtube.com.
Marvin X Papers at University of California, Berkeley, Bancroft Library
Finding Aids > UC Berkeley > Bancroft Library
Finding Aid to the Marvin X Papers, 1965-2006, bulk 1993-2006
Collection Summary
Collection Title:
Marvin X papers 1965-2006, bulk 1993-2006
Collection Number:
BANC MSS 2006/217
Creators :
Marvin X, 1944-
Extent:
Number of containers: 8 cartons, 1 box
Linear feet: 10.2
Repository:
The Bancroft Library
University of California, Berkeley
Berkeley, California, 94720-6000
Phone: (510) 642-6481
Fax: (510) 642-7589
Email: bancref@library.berkeley.edu
URL: http://bancroft.berkeley.edu/
Abstract:
The Marvin X Papers document the life and work of playwright, poet, essayist, and activist Marvin X during the nineties and the first decade of the 21st Century. The papers include correspondence; Marvin X's writings; materials related to the Recovery Theatre; works by his children and colleagues; and resource files. Correspondence includes letters, cards, and e-mails; correspondents include Amiri Baraka and other prominent African-American intellectuals. Marvin X's writings include notebooks, drafts, and manuscripts of poetry, novels, plays, essays, and planned anthologies. Documents from the Recovery Theatre include organizational and financial records and promotional material. Writings by others include essays, scripts, and academic papers by his three daughters. Resource files include academic articles, e-mails, flyers, news clippings and programs that contextualize and document Marvin X's involvement as an activist, intellectual, and literary figure in the African American community in the Bay Area in the late 20th and early 21st centuries. Photographs include snapshots of family, friends, colleagues, and productions at the Recovery Theatre.
Languages Represented:
Collection materials are in English
Physical Location:
Many of the Bancroft Library collections are stored offsite and advance notice may be required for use. For current information on the location of these materials, please consult the Library's online catalog.
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Information for Researchers[ 4 hits]
Administrative Information
Biographical Information[ 1 hits]
System of Arrangement
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Container List[ 6 hits]
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Finding Aid to the Marvin X Papers, 1965-2006, bulk 1993-2006
Collection Summary
Collection Title:
Marvin X papers 1965-2006, bulk 1993-2006
Collection Number:
BANC MSS 2006/217
Creators :
Marvin X, 1944-
Extent:
Number of containers: 8 cartons, 1 box
Linear feet: 10.2
Repository:
The Bancroft Library
University of California, Berkeley
Berkeley, California, 94720-6000
Phone: (510) 642-6481
Fax: (510) 642-7589
Email: bancref@library.berkeley.edu
URL: http://bancroft.berkeley.edu/
Abstract:
The Marvin X Papers document the life and work of playwright, poet, essayist, and activist Marvin X during the nineties and the first decade of the 21st Century. The papers include correspondence; Marvin X's writings; materials related to the Recovery Theatre; works by his children and colleagues; and resource files. Correspondence includes letters, cards, and e-mails; correspondents include Amiri Baraka and other prominent African-American intellectuals. Marvin X's writings include notebooks, drafts, and manuscripts of poetry, novels, plays, essays, and planned anthologies. Documents from the Recovery Theatre include organizational and financial records and promotional material. Writings by others include essays, scripts, and academic papers by his three daughters. Resource files include academic articles, e-mails, flyers, news clippings and programs that contextualize and document Marvin X's involvement as an activist, intellectual, and literary figure in the African American community in the Bay Area in the late 20th and early 21st centuries. Photographs include snapshots of family, friends, colleagues, and productions at the Recovery Theatre.
Languages Represented:
Collection materials are in English
Physical Location:
Many of the Bancroft Library collections are stored offsite and advance notice may be required for use. For current information on the location of these materials, please consult the Library's online catalog.
View options:
Standard
Entire finding aid
Search within this document:
[Clear Hits]
17 occurrences of african american
Contents:
Collection Summary[ 2 hits]
Information for Researchers[ 4 hits]
Administrative Information
Biographical Information[ 1 hits]
System of Arrangement
Scope and Content of Collection[ 2 hits]
Container List[ 6 hits]
Correspondence[ 1 hits]
Writings[ 1 hits]
Recovery Theatre
Writings by Others[ 1 hits]
Resource Files[ 3 hits]
Photographs
Saturday, May 19, 2007
How To Recover from the Addiction to White Supremacy: A Pan African 12 Step Model
HOW TO RECOVER FROM THE ADDICTION TO WHITE SUPREMACY
A Pan African 12-STEP MODEL
FOR AFRICANS, EUROPEANS & OTHERS
MARVIN X (El Muhajir)
(c) 2007 by Marian M. Jackmon Foundation
POB 1317, Paradise Ca 95967
Marvin X agent for bookings: sun in leo, inc., muhammida @suninleo.com
718.574.6331
Acknowledgement
We thank Dr. Nathan Hare for suggesting using the 12-step model to organize community mental health peer group sessions. Thanks to Suzzette Celeste, MSW, MPA, who along with Dr. Hare, facilitated Black Reconstruction, the pilot model of the mental health peer group sessions at our Recovery Theatre in San Francisco. Thanks to my daughter, Muhammida El Muhajir, for suggesting expanding my original essay into book form. Thanks to Ptah Allah-El (Tracy Mitchell) for suggesting the sections on detox and discovery. And finally, thank you Hurriyah Asar for your hospitality enabling me to begin writing this manuscript.
To the following for making my Beyond Religion, Toward Spirituality book tour a success: Muhammida El Muhajir, Nisa Ra, Suzzette Celeste, Travion Cotton, Paulette Johnson, Phil Johnson, Amira Jackmon, Sonia Sanchez, Mr. and Mrs. Amiri Baraka, Mr. and Mrs. Ed Bullins, Askia Toure, Tony Vander Meer, Dana Rondel, Miles McAfee, Viola Plummer, Baba Lumumba, Dalani and Songhay, Sankofa Books, Wash. DC, Sam Anderson, Shomburg Library, Harlem NY, Robb at the University of Penn, Robbin’s Book Store, Philly, Lamont B. Steptoe, Rudolph Lewis; Wake Up, WBAI, NYC, Ariel Fernandez, Justin ‘Soul One‘ Bedford.
CONTENTS
Preface
Introduction
Detoxification from White Supremacy
Twelve Steps
Step 1: We are not powerless over self-hatred, racism white supremacy thinking but our lives have become unmanageable
Step 2: We have come to believe that a power within ourselves can restore us to sanity
Step 3: We have made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God
Step 4:We shall make a searching and fearless moral inventory
Step 5: Admitted to God within and without the exact nature of our wrongs
Step 6: We are entirely ready to have God remove defects of character
Step 7: We humbly ask God to remove our shortcomings
Step 8: Make a list of all Africans and others we have harmed
Step 9: Make direct amends to such people
Step 10: Continue to take personal inventory
Step 11: Seek through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God
Step 12: Carry the message to the Pan African world and other humans in the global community
Step 13: Discover Pan African consciousness and join the cultural revolution
PREFACE
Toward A Pan African Mental Health Peer Group
A few years ago, I called upon Dr. Nathan Hare, our esteemed sociologist and clinical psychologist, and author of the classic The Black Anglo-Saxons, to establish a mental health group we decided to call Black Reconstruction. Along with Dr. Hare, the group was facilitated by social worker, Suzzette Celeste, MSW, MPA. The group took place at my Recovery Theatre in San Francisco’s Tenderloin district (see the film Pursuit of Happyness). Before the group sessions were disbanded for several reasons, including logistics and promotion, we discovered a few things. One, the group should have been divided into the severely mentally ill and the functionally mentally ill, although the dual diagnosed (those with mental and drug problems) could attend either session, for many times the drug addict and mentally ill are indivisible personalities. Two, Dr. Hare concluded such mental health peer group sessions should be established in every community nationwide. And I add worldwide. A mental health worker need not be present, but following the 12-step model of AA, let the peers facilitate the session, since there are simply not enough mental health workers to serve the population of mentally disabled persons. The US Surgeon general estimated 20% of Americans are mentally ill. Three, although the Pan African community suffers the brunt of mental disorders caused by oppression, “situational disorders” as Dr. Franz Fanon called them, when whites attended, we saw they too suffer and could participate since much of oppression does not discriminate --and more importantly, the colonizer is as mentally ill, if not more so, than the colonized. The victimizer with his boot on the neck of the oppressed is sick with the idea of domination. So, yes, racism has affected more blacks than whites, but middle and lower class whites are an exploited economic class as well. Capitalism and imperialism do not discriminate--all workers are exploited and they are programmed into the virus of consumerism wherein their paltry wages acquire the cheap goods of a materialistic society. Half the goods they acquire are not needed, but the workers and their children are programmed by persistent advertising, often of a subliminal nature. And there is only a matter of degree between the exploited white worker and the black worker. For sure, there yet lacks wage parity, for blacks and women. Yes, a white worker with a prison record can get a job quicker than a black worker with no police record, but once on the job, the white worker is exploited none the less and suffers mental trauma as well. His white skin does not save him from wage slavery and the resultant psycho-social diseases, including drug abuse, partner violence and child abuse, emotional if not physical. Nevertheless, our main focus is healing the Pan African community, those descendants of slavery and colonialism throughout Africa, Europe and the Americas. This book should also have relevance to the Muslim world, Arabs in particular, who suffer as well the ravages of colonialism and neo-colonialism. Yes, Muslims and Arabs suffer from the trauma of white supremacy as the West devours their oil fields and other resources, and permits reactionary regimes to flourish in spite of their anti-democratic behavior.
The ravages of slavery, colonialism and neo-colonialism (including domestic colonialism) necessitate the formation of Pan African mental health peer groups throughout Pan Africa, whether on the continent, Europe, Caribbean and the Americas, especially North America. Let us all come together in small groups for peer healing sessions.Radical Pan African mental health peer groups can be a powerful antidote to help heal the lingering, traumatic effects of slavery, colonialism and neo-colonialism. We can see throughout Pan Africa that even when we advance politically and economically, the scourge of cultural imperialism causes mental retardation of a kind that produces stunted men and women who might otherwise continue the radical freedom agenda, but yet (and often in the name of revolution) continue reactionary behavior and practices no different from their former masters. We label such behavior white supremacy, even if it is now black face white supremacy. In the Caribbean they call it, “Black men with white hearts.” Indeed, such behavior is a disease of the heart, of the spirit, and thus no amount of political/economic liberation will suffice--we cannot live on bread alone, but our wretched mental condition stifles real progress toward that divine state of mind wherein we are free of tribal, ethnic, religious and cultural hatred, strife, desires of domination, exploitation, greed and lust for power, i.e., white supremacy. The advantages and positives of Western civilization do not outweigh the sordid and vile behavior we have inculcated and practice with each other, and thus the time has come to make radical changes as we advance into the new millennium, personal changes in our spiritual consciousness that will transform our political, economic and social behavior. Yes, we are in the era of high technology, but our behavior is often of a bestial nature, for we have lost the civility and serenity of the natural order, even the animals display personalities more at peace than we so-called evolved human beings. As we became urbanized, we are no longer cognizant of natural love for each other and the planet we share with animals and plants. Many city children have never touched an animal, a cow, horse or chicken, a duck, a bird. We may teach gender equality, but we see in the animal kingdom there is leadership based on gender, sometimes the male but often the female. So as we evolve we might need to refer to the animals for wisdom and knowledge of how configure society that lessons psycho-social destabilization that has brought us to the present need for this discussion of how to remedy the most pressing political, economic, social, and spiritual issue of our time: white supremacy.
Introduction
Contrary to President Bush, oil is not America’s number one addiction, rather it is the disease of racism or white supremacy which pervades and poisons every fabric of American and western society. White supremacy also affects African, Asian and Latin culture, thus it is a global phenomena, administered through the economic institution of capitalism and imperialism. It is not purely economic but cultural as well. The virus of white supremacy is spread through cultural imperialism, or the imposition of western culture upon the subject peoples, and of course western culture is by the nature of power relationships, the superior or dominant culture, all other cultures being inferior and relegated to the lower rung on the ladder of civilization. The culture of white supremacy has the self-endowed duty to civilize all other cultures, especially those it has colonized or recently allowed to step up to the more modern stage of neo-colonialism, wherein such cultures exercise a modicum of independence but yet remain shackled to the master culture, economically and psychologically. For the most part they remain enslaved to the western free market system which at best enables them to become wage slaves and consumers of crass materialism and partakers of reactionary spirituality or more precisely religiosity, wherein the myth-rituals of western civilization maintains it grip on their psyche and physicality: their minds and bodies become captives of the western model of reality and the metaphysical. The people subjected to white supremacy allow themselves no opportunity for original thinking, or thinking out of the box, for they have never seized the opportunity to consider another world view or national view, only the views of the Mother country (the white supremacy global rulers) have relevance. The people have been totally brainwashed into the addiction of white supremacy, to the extent that they wear clothing with corporate brand names, advertising their acceptance of economic and cultural imperialism. It never occurs to them to wear clothing with their names or indigenous brands. Even after the 60s naming rituals, most African Americans continue calling themselves by European names, although they try a little originality, now and then, especially in the southern area or dirty south. Recently Bill Cosby suggested they were wrong to exercise this degree of originality, disclosing his own ignorance rather than theirs. Why do they not have the human and divine right to name themselves, why should they continue disclosing their slavery heritage--why can’t they think out of the box of cultural imperialism, break the chains after centuries of putrid degradation.
The western ideal is the creation of cogs in the wheel of capitalism, to produce a population of wage slaves for life who, after being trained through mis-education, will dutifully report to work and retire broke with a combination of illnesses that prepare them for the grave at the earliest possible date after retirement. The wage slaves barely achieve a living wage thus they are often unable to maintain health insurance or the wherewithal to ever consider and certainly not to achieve economic independence.
The minority workers never achieve economic parity with their white brothers and rarely break through the glass ceiling to become the boss or CEOs of their corporations, for after all, white supremacy is a family affair, and the African proverb says, “One white dog will not bite another white dog.” Yes, the old boys club protect their own, of late allowing the entry of their women, although they too lack parity with their brothers and fathers, although they have surpassed minorities in their pseudo claim of minority status, thereby becoming the greatest beneficiaries of affirmative action, after which their brothers and fathers have done all in their powers to eliminate the affirmative action agenda. After calling for black power in the 60s, black men, for the most part, never achieved such power but fell behind white and black women educationally, economically and politically. And one might say they fell behind psychologically and spiritually, for today they exhibit great mental damage and evidence of retardation in self image and self realization, while black women advance on every level except having their man as an equal partner or even as unequal partner, for the black women seems to be forced into a go-it-alone policy or seek men outside her ethnic circle, for her man exhibits traits of arrested development, considering himself some kind of pimp, gangster or romance idol, but certainly not the spiritual and economic equal of his woman. While she acquires advance degrees, he is more than often caught riding dirty and endures jail and prison rather than experiencing the joy of life with his natural mate. He returns from prison to sometimes infect her with HiV/AIDS and other prison acquired diseases, and even if he is lucky enough to enter college, he often turns homosexual or seeks a mate out of his ethnic group, thus becoming a diminishing possibility for creating the next generation of his people.
Please do not think I am pessimistic, for I am not. I am a revolutionary, thus I am confident we shall win no matter how dire the circumstances appear. We come to this day from centuries of oppression, white supremacy and the resultant degradation, psychological trauma and economic exploitation wherein we as slave workers produced the surplus capital of the western world. Yes, we have been and still are the donkeys and mules of the world, but through the process of decolonization which is first and foremost a mental process, then a physical reality, we shall arrive back through the door of no return. It is a process we can overcome by taking the twelve steps that have proven so successful in drug recovery, for after all, the colonized and the colonizer both suffer from the addiction of white supremacy, a drug more powerful than heroin, meth, crack and alcohol combined.
White supremacy is a drug so pervasive even when we think we are cured, the ravages and residue appear, affecting our thinking and behavior, our social relations and interaction in the home, on the job, at religious worship and social and cultural events. In short, this drug is sometimes tasteless, colorless, yet cunning and vile. We think we are cured, yet a slip of the tongue proves the illness has reappeared, often suddenly without the slightest indication.
We could go on forever discoursing on the ravages of white supremacy. But our objective here is to give the tools of recovery, twelve steps we can take personally and collectively in peer group sessions in the home, on the street corner, at the barber and beauty shops, in the church or social clubs, bars, schools and colleges, in jails, prisons and the workplace. If we do not get a grip on this addiction, the ultimate alternative is violent revolution, something no one in their right mind would want to imagine, let alone enact. But there comes a point in the course of human events when enough is enough, and I dare say we are rapidly reaching that point in our human relations across this planet. We are either going to learn how to exist together as equal human beings, or divine beings in human form, or we will find the earth a place of utter destruction and warfare between ethnic, cultural and economic groups--yes, class struggle may indeed by the next world struggle, the poor against the rich, the haves against the have not’s. This can indeed be a wonderful world, but the ruling powers and the ruled must be prepared to achieve parity in the form of economic justice and cultural respect. White privilege or white supremacy must be eradicated from the face of the earth at the earliest possible date for the peace of the world. Such reactionary and die hard thinking must be eliminated from human discourse and interaction, and this must occur on the institutional and personal level. All forms of domination must be destroyed in human interaction, international relations and personal relations, including male/female relations. Women of intelligence will not be under the rule and domination of ignorant men nor men of intelligence, but desire to be equals in all matters that require equal planning and action. They can certainly be equally as useful in the eradication of white supremacy, for do not women encourage men to acquire for them the material goods produced by white supremacy economic institutions? How long would white supremacy stores and malls survive without goods bought at the encouragement of women? Do not women demand men go to work at wage slave jobs to pay their pussy bill, to feed their children. What if women demanded men boycott work until white power institutions fall or democratize.
WHITE SUPREMACY DEFINED
White supremacy can be any form of domination, whether stemming from religious mythology and ritual, or cultural mythology and ritual, such as tribal and caste relations. White supremacy is finally a class phenomena, the rich against the poor, thus the process of recovery must include a redistribution of global wealth, for there is no doubt that the rich became rich by exploiting the poor, not by any natural inheritance or superior intelligence. White power was achieved by military power, by war, the use of guns and the spread of diseases throughout the world, by a subtle and not so subtle spread of religious propaganda that taught the cultural superiority of the oppressor and the inferiority of the oppressed. Even language was used as an instrument of oppression, for the white supremacist forced the subject people into speaking and thus thinking in his language, thinking like him, forcing the subject people into psychological trauma of the most subtle kind, for language is logic, thus the people find it a most difficult task to think out of the box, even the concept of freedom becomes only possible inside the box, for freedom is difficult to imagine outside the box, by the very nature of the linguistic challenge. Ask African Americans does freedom mean independence, sovereignty, self-determination, or does freedom mean a good job, the right to vote, the right to die in wars for the spread of imperialism or white supremacy. Do we not have rights as cultural beings to conceive and configure a society to our benefit and satisfaction, yes, a society perhaps totally separate from this white supremacy nation. Why must we be subjected to the wrath of America’s enemies, to whom we have not injured or harmed in any way. If anything, America has demonstrated she is the enemy of African Americans. Certainly her treatment of African citizens during Katrina is but the most recent example. The abuse and neglect Africans suffered during that hurricane amounts to terrorism of the most wretched kind, and who can deny we deserve a better society. If a wife had a husband who abused her like American white supremacy abuses African Americans, the wife would file for divorce and it would be granted immediately, especially when the wife catalogued the long chain of mistreatment. Should not North American Africans take America to the world court, should we not file suit that we have been wronged by the ravages of white supremacy, economically exploited, miss-educated, spiritually duped by religious mythology and ritual? Or shall we reason together, reconcile our profound differences, try the simple twelve steps before this nation and this world is torn asunder. Willingly or unwillingly, the world powers must recover from their addiction to white supremacy or the peace loving peoples of the world must forcefully dismantle this organization of global terror and the myriad institutions that support, maintain and benefit from it. We can come together as peers and reason together or we can meet on the battlefield and clash like wild beasts, but recover we must, and it must happen sooner than later. The choice is yours and your children. The right way is clearly distinct from error. And finally, recovery is the mission of the people, for if and when the people recover their mental and spiritual equilibrium, white supremacy must and will be defeated. As Fidel Castro has told us, the weapon of today is consciousness. I must add that it is spiritual consciousness, the mighty power to be in this world but not of this world that shall save humanity from destruction. It is the power to overcome all illusions such as white
A Pan African 12-STEP MODEL
FOR AFRICANS, EUROPEANS & OTHERS
MARVIN X (El Muhajir)
(c) 2007 by Marian M. Jackmon Foundation
POB 1317, Paradise Ca 95967
Marvin X agent for bookings: sun in leo, inc., muhammida @suninleo.com
718.574.6331
Acknowledgement
We thank Dr. Nathan Hare for suggesting using the 12-step model to organize community mental health peer group sessions. Thanks to Suzzette Celeste, MSW, MPA, who along with Dr. Hare, facilitated Black Reconstruction, the pilot model of the mental health peer group sessions at our Recovery Theatre in San Francisco. Thanks to my daughter, Muhammida El Muhajir, for suggesting expanding my original essay into book form. Thanks to Ptah Allah-El (Tracy Mitchell) for suggesting the sections on detox and discovery. And finally, thank you Hurriyah Asar for your hospitality enabling me to begin writing this manuscript.
To the following for making my Beyond Religion, Toward Spirituality book tour a success: Muhammida El Muhajir, Nisa Ra, Suzzette Celeste, Travion Cotton, Paulette Johnson, Phil Johnson, Amira Jackmon, Sonia Sanchez, Mr. and Mrs. Amiri Baraka, Mr. and Mrs. Ed Bullins, Askia Toure, Tony Vander Meer, Dana Rondel, Miles McAfee, Viola Plummer, Baba Lumumba, Dalani and Songhay, Sankofa Books, Wash. DC, Sam Anderson, Shomburg Library, Harlem NY, Robb at the University of Penn, Robbin’s Book Store, Philly, Lamont B. Steptoe, Rudolph Lewis; Wake Up, WBAI, NYC, Ariel Fernandez, Justin ‘Soul One‘ Bedford.
CONTENTS
Preface
Introduction
Detoxification from White Supremacy
Twelve Steps
Step 1: We are not powerless over self-hatred, racism white supremacy thinking but our lives have become unmanageable
Step 2: We have come to believe that a power within ourselves can restore us to sanity
Step 3: We have made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God
Step 4:We shall make a searching and fearless moral inventory
Step 5: Admitted to God within and without the exact nature of our wrongs
Step 6: We are entirely ready to have God remove defects of character
Step 7: We humbly ask God to remove our shortcomings
Step 8: Make a list of all Africans and others we have harmed
Step 9: Make direct amends to such people
Step 10: Continue to take personal inventory
Step 11: Seek through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God
Step 12: Carry the message to the Pan African world and other humans in the global community
Step 13: Discover Pan African consciousness and join the cultural revolution
PREFACE
Toward A Pan African Mental Health Peer Group
A few years ago, I called upon Dr. Nathan Hare, our esteemed sociologist and clinical psychologist, and author of the classic The Black Anglo-Saxons, to establish a mental health group we decided to call Black Reconstruction. Along with Dr. Hare, the group was facilitated by social worker, Suzzette Celeste, MSW, MPA. The group took place at my Recovery Theatre in San Francisco’s Tenderloin district (see the film Pursuit of Happyness). Before the group sessions were disbanded for several reasons, including logistics and promotion, we discovered a few things. One, the group should have been divided into the severely mentally ill and the functionally mentally ill, although the dual diagnosed (those with mental and drug problems) could attend either session, for many times the drug addict and mentally ill are indivisible personalities. Two, Dr. Hare concluded such mental health peer group sessions should be established in every community nationwide. And I add worldwide. A mental health worker need not be present, but following the 12-step model of AA, let the peers facilitate the session, since there are simply not enough mental health workers to serve the population of mentally disabled persons. The US Surgeon general estimated 20% of Americans are mentally ill. Three, although the Pan African community suffers the brunt of mental disorders caused by oppression, “situational disorders” as Dr. Franz Fanon called them, when whites attended, we saw they too suffer and could participate since much of oppression does not discriminate --and more importantly, the colonizer is as mentally ill, if not more so, than the colonized. The victimizer with his boot on the neck of the oppressed is sick with the idea of domination. So, yes, racism has affected more blacks than whites, but middle and lower class whites are an exploited economic class as well. Capitalism and imperialism do not discriminate--all workers are exploited and they are programmed into the virus of consumerism wherein their paltry wages acquire the cheap goods of a materialistic society. Half the goods they acquire are not needed, but the workers and their children are programmed by persistent advertising, often of a subliminal nature. And there is only a matter of degree between the exploited white worker and the black worker. For sure, there yet lacks wage parity, for blacks and women. Yes, a white worker with a prison record can get a job quicker than a black worker with no police record, but once on the job, the white worker is exploited none the less and suffers mental trauma as well. His white skin does not save him from wage slavery and the resultant psycho-social diseases, including drug abuse, partner violence and child abuse, emotional if not physical. Nevertheless, our main focus is healing the Pan African community, those descendants of slavery and colonialism throughout Africa, Europe and the Americas. This book should also have relevance to the Muslim world, Arabs in particular, who suffer as well the ravages of colonialism and neo-colonialism. Yes, Muslims and Arabs suffer from the trauma of white supremacy as the West devours their oil fields and other resources, and permits reactionary regimes to flourish in spite of their anti-democratic behavior.
The ravages of slavery, colonialism and neo-colonialism (including domestic colonialism) necessitate the formation of Pan African mental health peer groups throughout Pan Africa, whether on the continent, Europe, Caribbean and the Americas, especially North America. Let us all come together in small groups for peer healing sessions.Radical Pan African mental health peer groups can be a powerful antidote to help heal the lingering, traumatic effects of slavery, colonialism and neo-colonialism. We can see throughout Pan Africa that even when we advance politically and economically, the scourge of cultural imperialism causes mental retardation of a kind that produces stunted men and women who might otherwise continue the radical freedom agenda, but yet (and often in the name of revolution) continue reactionary behavior and practices no different from their former masters. We label such behavior white supremacy, even if it is now black face white supremacy. In the Caribbean they call it, “Black men with white hearts.” Indeed, such behavior is a disease of the heart, of the spirit, and thus no amount of political/economic liberation will suffice--we cannot live on bread alone, but our wretched mental condition stifles real progress toward that divine state of mind wherein we are free of tribal, ethnic, religious and cultural hatred, strife, desires of domination, exploitation, greed and lust for power, i.e., white supremacy. The advantages and positives of Western civilization do not outweigh the sordid and vile behavior we have inculcated and practice with each other, and thus the time has come to make radical changes as we advance into the new millennium, personal changes in our spiritual consciousness that will transform our political, economic and social behavior. Yes, we are in the era of high technology, but our behavior is often of a bestial nature, for we have lost the civility and serenity of the natural order, even the animals display personalities more at peace than we so-called evolved human beings. As we became urbanized, we are no longer cognizant of natural love for each other and the planet we share with animals and plants. Many city children have never touched an animal, a cow, horse or chicken, a duck, a bird. We may teach gender equality, but we see in the animal kingdom there is leadership based on gender, sometimes the male but often the female. So as we evolve we might need to refer to the animals for wisdom and knowledge of how configure society that lessons psycho-social destabilization that has brought us to the present need for this discussion of how to remedy the most pressing political, economic, social, and spiritual issue of our time: white supremacy.
Introduction
Contrary to President Bush, oil is not America’s number one addiction, rather it is the disease of racism or white supremacy which pervades and poisons every fabric of American and western society. White supremacy also affects African, Asian and Latin culture, thus it is a global phenomena, administered through the economic institution of capitalism and imperialism. It is not purely economic but cultural as well. The virus of white supremacy is spread through cultural imperialism, or the imposition of western culture upon the subject peoples, and of course western culture is by the nature of power relationships, the superior or dominant culture, all other cultures being inferior and relegated to the lower rung on the ladder of civilization. The culture of white supremacy has the self-endowed duty to civilize all other cultures, especially those it has colonized or recently allowed to step up to the more modern stage of neo-colonialism, wherein such cultures exercise a modicum of independence but yet remain shackled to the master culture, economically and psychologically. For the most part they remain enslaved to the western free market system which at best enables them to become wage slaves and consumers of crass materialism and partakers of reactionary spirituality or more precisely religiosity, wherein the myth-rituals of western civilization maintains it grip on their psyche and physicality: their minds and bodies become captives of the western model of reality and the metaphysical. The people subjected to white supremacy allow themselves no opportunity for original thinking, or thinking out of the box, for they have never seized the opportunity to consider another world view or national view, only the views of the Mother country (the white supremacy global rulers) have relevance. The people have been totally brainwashed into the addiction of white supremacy, to the extent that they wear clothing with corporate brand names, advertising their acceptance of economic and cultural imperialism. It never occurs to them to wear clothing with their names or indigenous brands. Even after the 60s naming rituals, most African Americans continue calling themselves by European names, although they try a little originality, now and then, especially in the southern area or dirty south. Recently Bill Cosby suggested they were wrong to exercise this degree of originality, disclosing his own ignorance rather than theirs. Why do they not have the human and divine right to name themselves, why should they continue disclosing their slavery heritage--why can’t they think out of the box of cultural imperialism, break the chains after centuries of putrid degradation.
The western ideal is the creation of cogs in the wheel of capitalism, to produce a population of wage slaves for life who, after being trained through mis-education, will dutifully report to work and retire broke with a combination of illnesses that prepare them for the grave at the earliest possible date after retirement. The wage slaves barely achieve a living wage thus they are often unable to maintain health insurance or the wherewithal to ever consider and certainly not to achieve economic independence.
The minority workers never achieve economic parity with their white brothers and rarely break through the glass ceiling to become the boss or CEOs of their corporations, for after all, white supremacy is a family affair, and the African proverb says, “One white dog will not bite another white dog.” Yes, the old boys club protect their own, of late allowing the entry of their women, although they too lack parity with their brothers and fathers, although they have surpassed minorities in their pseudo claim of minority status, thereby becoming the greatest beneficiaries of affirmative action, after which their brothers and fathers have done all in their powers to eliminate the affirmative action agenda. After calling for black power in the 60s, black men, for the most part, never achieved such power but fell behind white and black women educationally, economically and politically. And one might say they fell behind psychologically and spiritually, for today they exhibit great mental damage and evidence of retardation in self image and self realization, while black women advance on every level except having their man as an equal partner or even as unequal partner, for the black women seems to be forced into a go-it-alone policy or seek men outside her ethnic circle, for her man exhibits traits of arrested development, considering himself some kind of pimp, gangster or romance idol, but certainly not the spiritual and economic equal of his woman. While she acquires advance degrees, he is more than often caught riding dirty and endures jail and prison rather than experiencing the joy of life with his natural mate. He returns from prison to sometimes infect her with HiV/AIDS and other prison acquired diseases, and even if he is lucky enough to enter college, he often turns homosexual or seeks a mate out of his ethnic group, thus becoming a diminishing possibility for creating the next generation of his people.
Please do not think I am pessimistic, for I am not. I am a revolutionary, thus I am confident we shall win no matter how dire the circumstances appear. We come to this day from centuries of oppression, white supremacy and the resultant degradation, psychological trauma and economic exploitation wherein we as slave workers produced the surplus capital of the western world. Yes, we have been and still are the donkeys and mules of the world, but through the process of decolonization which is first and foremost a mental process, then a physical reality, we shall arrive back through the door of no return. It is a process we can overcome by taking the twelve steps that have proven so successful in drug recovery, for after all, the colonized and the colonizer both suffer from the addiction of white supremacy, a drug more powerful than heroin, meth, crack and alcohol combined.
White supremacy is a drug so pervasive even when we think we are cured, the ravages and residue appear, affecting our thinking and behavior, our social relations and interaction in the home, on the job, at religious worship and social and cultural events. In short, this drug is sometimes tasteless, colorless, yet cunning and vile. We think we are cured, yet a slip of the tongue proves the illness has reappeared, often suddenly without the slightest indication.
We could go on forever discoursing on the ravages of white supremacy. But our objective here is to give the tools of recovery, twelve steps we can take personally and collectively in peer group sessions in the home, on the street corner, at the barber and beauty shops, in the church or social clubs, bars, schools and colleges, in jails, prisons and the workplace. If we do not get a grip on this addiction, the ultimate alternative is violent revolution, something no one in their right mind would want to imagine, let alone enact. But there comes a point in the course of human events when enough is enough, and I dare say we are rapidly reaching that point in our human relations across this planet. We are either going to learn how to exist together as equal human beings, or divine beings in human form, or we will find the earth a place of utter destruction and warfare between ethnic, cultural and economic groups--yes, class struggle may indeed by the next world struggle, the poor against the rich, the haves against the have not’s. This can indeed be a wonderful world, but the ruling powers and the ruled must be prepared to achieve parity in the form of economic justice and cultural respect. White privilege or white supremacy must be eradicated from the face of the earth at the earliest possible date for the peace of the world. Such reactionary and die hard thinking must be eliminated from human discourse and interaction, and this must occur on the institutional and personal level. All forms of domination must be destroyed in human interaction, international relations and personal relations, including male/female relations. Women of intelligence will not be under the rule and domination of ignorant men nor men of intelligence, but desire to be equals in all matters that require equal planning and action. They can certainly be equally as useful in the eradication of white supremacy, for do not women encourage men to acquire for them the material goods produced by white supremacy economic institutions? How long would white supremacy stores and malls survive without goods bought at the encouragement of women? Do not women demand men go to work at wage slave jobs to pay their pussy bill, to feed their children. What if women demanded men boycott work until white power institutions fall or democratize.
WHITE SUPREMACY DEFINED
White supremacy can be any form of domination, whether stemming from religious mythology and ritual, or cultural mythology and ritual, such as tribal and caste relations. White supremacy is finally a class phenomena, the rich against the poor, thus the process of recovery must include a redistribution of global wealth, for there is no doubt that the rich became rich by exploiting the poor, not by any natural inheritance or superior intelligence. White power was achieved by military power, by war, the use of guns and the spread of diseases throughout the world, by a subtle and not so subtle spread of religious propaganda that taught the cultural superiority of the oppressor and the inferiority of the oppressed. Even language was used as an instrument of oppression, for the white supremacist forced the subject people into speaking and thus thinking in his language, thinking like him, forcing the subject people into psychological trauma of the most subtle kind, for language is logic, thus the people find it a most difficult task to think out of the box, even the concept of freedom becomes only possible inside the box, for freedom is difficult to imagine outside the box, by the very nature of the linguistic challenge. Ask African Americans does freedom mean independence, sovereignty, self-determination, or does freedom mean a good job, the right to vote, the right to die in wars for the spread of imperialism or white supremacy. Do we not have rights as cultural beings to conceive and configure a society to our benefit and satisfaction, yes, a society perhaps totally separate from this white supremacy nation. Why must we be subjected to the wrath of America’s enemies, to whom we have not injured or harmed in any way. If anything, America has demonstrated she is the enemy of African Americans. Certainly her treatment of African citizens during Katrina is but the most recent example. The abuse and neglect Africans suffered during that hurricane amounts to terrorism of the most wretched kind, and who can deny we deserve a better society. If a wife had a husband who abused her like American white supremacy abuses African Americans, the wife would file for divorce and it would be granted immediately, especially when the wife catalogued the long chain of mistreatment. Should not North American Africans take America to the world court, should we not file suit that we have been wronged by the ravages of white supremacy, economically exploited, miss-educated, spiritually duped by religious mythology and ritual? Or shall we reason together, reconcile our profound differences, try the simple twelve steps before this nation and this world is torn asunder. Willingly or unwillingly, the world powers must recover from their addiction to white supremacy or the peace loving peoples of the world must forcefully dismantle this organization of global terror and the myriad institutions that support, maintain and benefit from it. We can come together as peers and reason together or we can meet on the battlefield and clash like wild beasts, but recover we must, and it must happen sooner than later. The choice is yours and your children. The right way is clearly distinct from error. And finally, recovery is the mission of the people, for if and when the people recover their mental and spiritual equilibrium, white supremacy must and will be defeated. As Fidel Castro has told us, the weapon of today is consciousness. I must add that it is spiritual consciousness, the mighty power to be in this world but not of this world that shall save humanity from destruction. It is the power to overcome all illusions such as white