ameriKKKa's Most Hated Muslim Poet
And I Listened
Owned by our family for over one hundred years. More than one hundred years before that they slaved,
As I stand upon my grandfather"s land reflecting back over two hundred years of births and graves,
Land in a town that bares their former slave master 's name. The trees whisper to reveal all that they have witnessed, nothing concealed.
All that those devils attempted to steal, talking Poplar trees and falling leaves, whisper to me,
Racist Southern scenes of cruel domination upon prison camps called plantations,
My mind travels back in time to the blood of my blood who were victims of devilish white crime,
Black bodies swaying, mourners praying... years and years of father's and mother's tears,
Mourners praying, bodies from branches swayimg, from slavery to chain gangs, minstrel shows to Jim Crow,
I will never forget the things that I know. The land and trees spoke to me and I listened.
Habib Baba Hasib