For Mukasa Dada (Willie Ricks)

War Elephants

For Mukassa Dada

Mukassa jackd up on Morehouse
campus, a whorehouse of Big Imp
turning out little black tricks with
degrees and no heart, training
and no brainz, and minds driven
by no courage, chicken heads.

That whorehouse Morehouse
beat down Mukassa oh. They
chancellor reiterated they policy
one more necklace for the niggroisie.

Like for years when Howard
students campaignd back then
for regents to divest from
businesses with apartheid-linked
Interests…but you kno
compradors can be obstinate
when they orders derive from Corporate.

No, you dont kno Mukassa you never
heard of his Black Power you
dont kno, do you
anything but voodoo…

What will you do for your
freedom your peoples liberation your
honor they Honor YOUR MANHOOD
honor seen as a Black man, an Afrikan
a nigger, man. A niggas personal honor.

Honorable slaves before the Master.

But niggroz filld with false hope
fake honor shady dreams. Falsified:
Was there a negro inside
of Tookie, twisting, before he died..
because that’s the false concern which
lets niggas take no side and let shit ride.

What fight will niggroz wage for
your people from the sidelines
where you hide, the prison sidelines
the sideline of your J-O-B
where your union dint honor
that picket, man…the TWU, and
what sideline will you pick next
in front of your television set, man.

What line will allow what honor while
on sidelines you promenade today
in that brainwashing process you
call culture or education, or what
social clique holding you back, that
house of trouble y’all daily slave over,
you family of Sufferers all?

Onna mission, and the Struggle
sidetrackd, gone fishing, questions
your honor while a quiet voice aks
me no questions tell me no lies
when I looks closely in your eyes
what outrage will you engage
to rescue the soild, trampled
honor of New Yorks torturd Abner
Louima and 12 y/o Michael Ellerbe
gunnd down in Uniontown by
police State gestapo? What vengeance
will black rage exact today for
y’all brothers Stanley Williams
executed, and Mumia
lockd down on death row
by a Beast quite eager to march
him the last mile. Tookies hands we
will never hold again, never catch
his smile ever more, savor his speech
unless you PICK UP A BOOK/&
may that resolve|that|desperation|

Are slaves provoked to construct a wooden
elephant left at the gate of Babylon
where our mothers, enslaved, and
mischief upon them playd until
Momma lay cold in her grave by
Big Imperialist corporations/your
martyrs: Martin and Malcolm
George Jackson and…and…
and they lay slaughterd, their
blood pouring from wounds
in they heads and y’all afraid
to digest a righteous report then rampage
Onna Incipient Insurgent Intifada
in the name of thine own

A hand slap a pound a dap:
is that all thatz left of Black Power
or do you kno what I’m obsessed about
my brother? My Black Rage is
sumpn more than an expression a
rage bigger than a 12-gauge Gattling
gun sending traitors on the run.
Mukassa beat down on Morehouse
and no repentant cops or administrators
because traitors all coming out of the walls
unafraid. Today they own the day
fearless of no 12-gauge, no black rage
no garrot after that soft bump in the night
arrogant as a president sending you off to war
spitting in your face, putting niggers
in they place and you, reading poems
and writing letters of protest
of war dancing your BLACK RAGE
straight down they lyin throats.

Here, hold my hand, baby, let
me lead you thru an old door
to a dark place feel our way
so you can taste this flavor yo
an aged brew in an oaken casket
innerstand the man Mukassa is
what won people over to his concept
what made the Panthers pick up the gun
and how the sell outs gaind what
the hell they run today!

Dont be afraid to take my hand
pick up the gun…dont be afraid to
grab that Bridgeport and get it slung
around some administrators throat
or on any other niggro traitor yo
dont condemn the act or pity the fool
one necklace, one sell out
one settler one bullet
do hip hop gangstas have the nerve
to beef to swerve in that direction?

Overcome your hesitation translate
that ghetto legend hateration that
desperation into an act of liberation.

Who need to hold my hand, who need
a guide a leader a general a commando
a pit bull of determination a Ho
Chi Minh or a Dedan Kimathi?

You got Mukassa. Act like you kno.


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