Ancestor poems by Marvin X; Comment by Omolade R. Roddy

Comment on Marvin X  Ancestors Poem 
by Omolade R. Roddy
amen...?

o.k, amen 

whoa....heavy

o.k, so for a second I was getting all caught up w/ the the language ....the words.... and I couldn't seem to get over this wal that was anging strong around my consciousness

deflectin' what you were trying to say (or what you were sayin' and I was tryin' not to get)... becuz' of whatever was comin' up for me around seeing and hearing the word "ancestors" being wrapped in this cloak of "motherfuckers...whores" et al....

so I was skimming through it all.....pickin' up pieces and depth here and there. 

you have always been pretty heavy, so I was like..

"ok, here we go, ummm, I know.. he's gonna go there and I don't if i'm able or if I know if I can allow myself to go that deep."

then I had to consciously stop....and make myself read it all over again..

this time, line by line...

savoring it like quinine or some other bitter tonic. 

and then actually,when I allowed myself to be and really sit w/ the discomfort of it... (as silly as that sounds) ...

I found it to be really beautiful...

a marvinx-esque like beautiful, but beautiful.
nonetheless.

thanks baba

--Omolade R. Roddy
--------------------

Ancestors
Marvin X
Ancestors
Who are the real motherfuckers
who fucked our fathers and mothers
kidnapped Motherland Africa  to good ship jesus
door of no return
sea of blood bones
sharks and wail
imagine stench piss feces period blood
starvation suicide ocean revolution
we land in the Carolinas
enjoy 
five hundred years
duty free labor
sent by ancestor kings and queens
who sold us to the ghost
Baraka teaches us
ancestors we call you in the name of nigguhs
black nigguhs in the hoods of america
not pseudo black kemetic niggas fakes and frauds
scared to see the new royal children imperial kings and queens of the realm
too blind by the sun of Ra to find a bone at the Pyramid
you are horrified garbage at the door of King Tut's pyramid
coca cola bottoms condoms
remains of grave robbing tourists
The Misri people (aka, Egyptians) told Sun Ra and his Arkestra
this is not our land
this is your land
your creations
yet North American Africans search in vain for their lost identity
year after year
when the whole earth is ours
Africa
Arabia
Asia
Americas
Europe
black man's land

Gullahland America Africa Carolinas
Senagalease rice Africans in American slave system
hear talk on how rice came to America
rice plantations in Africa
see Gullah basket weave 
enjoy Gullahland land
Africa in Mississippi Alabama Georgia
Can't leave out New Orleans Africa
Harlem Africa Brooklyn Southside Chicago Detroit St. Louis Los Angeles Oakland San Francisco 
take claim to the land and forever hold your tongues
dig the pyramids of Louisiana for Moorish mounds
Seminoles of Florida Maroon Nation Africans Native Americans
Gullahs  Geeches up and down the coast
All Gullahs ain't Geeches
All Geeches ain't Gullahs
Emancipation Reconstruction
North American African Nation
decreed all land from South Carolina to Florida
fucked by the motherfucker
king and queen motherfucker and son of bitch
male rape child rape mother rape
allowed by king and queen
ancestors all guilty and charged
Sun Ra said they got to pay
Africa got to pay like the white man devil
yeah, Africa pay
you got the gold diamonds precious metals everywhere
pay
stop paying europe and pay the negro
the motherfucker you made with the red flag
guiding him to the shore through the door of no return
that bitch warrior you allowed to be raped in front of his women and children
that whore who kept us alive while sexing the master
who wanted all the women men and children
greedy bastard
and talk of clean english
fuck the english language
fuck every word of it
and fuck you too 
you speak it 
and love it
and seek to purify it with you fake asses
claiming ancestor holiness
let the ancestors be cursed for their iniquities
and debaucheries
the selling of souls in the centuries of time
yet you call them holy
call Mississippi holy
call Alabama Georgia Louisiana Carolina's holy ground
the marsh swamp bayous rivers creeks
holy trees of strange fruit and blood wine
call the ancestors from the woods and forests
call them from the pine trees and moss wood swamps
call them from the rice canefields cotton
from plantation and city of death in the family
Clara said she wanted to put her head in the oven
in the detroit of her time
Elijah was drunk as a coot she said
when Master Fard came selling red silk
the same red we followed to the shore
when the king sold us to the ghost, Baraka said
he told us about the railroad in the bottom of ocean
filled with bones
ancestor bones who resisted and wailed cried and shitted
not only tongues but vile moans shouts screams to the motherfucker
the son of a bitch ancestor
who pitted tribe against tribe warrior against warrior
man against woman for trinkets and barrels of rum
and we yet praise them
in our abject ignorance
we praise the culture of madness and gold
madness and diamonds
madness and chopped hands clitoris legs
and there is no end even today
the kings and queens are alive and well
working overtime to feed themselves full
as we whore and rape each other into the night of the full moon
where the silence is aloud and heard the world over
the silence of hunger and disease
silence of ignorance and demands to be king for life
to never end the terror
to never avenge the righteous
to continue the plunder until the new kingdom comes
and the wicked are reduced to dust
and the motherfucker receives his fucking
Amen.
--Marvin X
4.17.09

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 7, 2018

Oh, Ancestors Speak to Me! Digame Por favor

Oh, Ancestors Speak to Me

"Marvin, this is a Beautiful Poem. I saw myself in it and others that I know in it."

--Jerry Varnado, San Francisco State University Strike leader, 1968

Oh, Ancestors Speak to Me
Digame
Digame
Digame
por favor
speak to me
my legs cannot move if you do not speak
your voice is the spirit in my walk in my soul
I cannot move without your direction
digame
digame por favor
you guided me then departed
I am here alone in this wilderness
shall I be ashamed alone
can I walk without trembling
you stood so long
I thought forever you would hold my hand
strengthen my knees
you taught me don't get weak
stand tall
stay solid don't bend
solid
you told me in prison
Allah loves a soldier
hates cowards
Allah loves warriors
hates cowards
stay solid
don't bend

Oh Batin
speak
digame
Ali Sharif Bey
speak Islam
Sunni Shia Ahmaddia Sufi
Nation of Islam
speak
polytheism  Islam
Tell me
black stone rejected
corner stone
we black stone
rejected despised
socalled Negro
tool fool of the world
black stone
corner stone
yes Paradise Jahlove teach
they love everything about you but you
Lou Rawls say
what did you do to be
so black and blue
crucified on the cross and lynching tree of America, world
Ancestor Rev. James Cone
we love you
liberation theology supreme
a love supreme
a love supreme
Rev. James Cone
Jesus socalled Negro
crucified daily
can't drink coffee Starbucks
can't breathe
we here for you
can't breathe
can't talk walk
we hear
speak ancestors
digame
por favor
digame
speak from shanties tent cities speak
speak Mexico city dirt floor huts
speak Belize flying roaches
no black flag
let roaches live
digame Jamaica
digame Trinidad
digame Venezuela
speak
tin roof huts
speak poor but happy
speak Mexico
Speak Belize Honduras
speak Afro-Columbia
speak Tenderloin San Francisco
my home
cardboard box home Crack fiend
love in cardboard box
smoke crack
crack ho recite fatiha in Arabic
give head cardboard box love
homeless love
Oh, Tenderloin
I claim every alley doorway hindu hilton hotel
what alley I do not know
what doorway
what bus stop BART station line to line
tell me of cold winter nights East Bay Terminal
There with my brothers
Edward
Nadar
Squirrel
Muslims on the bottom
Supreme wisdom Muslims
on the bottom
I got it but didn't get it
Supreme Wisdom
How can I escapeTenderloin
dope fiends of every kind
good lovin' ho's
she married her ho' at Glide Church
put dat ho' on the street same night
took me home to smoke crack
no man in her house before me
lesbian pimp ho' bitch
no man in her house before me good pimpin' ass bitch

I live on bottom of the world
sea to sea
country to country
religion to religion
politics to politics
ideology to ideology
no matter Left Right

Digame
speak to me
I stand on shoulders
walk on feet
dream dreams you dreamed
No original thoughts beyond thoughts of freedom
I shall not betray you
sacred dreams not lost in madness of globalism
we are not PC diaper baby snow flakes
suffering micro aggression
stand tall
we endured FOI officials in Chicago
Supreme Captain Raymond Sharieff
National Secretary John Ali
Captain Elijah Muhamad
baddest niggas in the world
except when I got home to SF and Guru Alonzo Batin
said I was a punk motherfucker to confess to niggas worse than I could ever b
Batin said I was a punk bitch ass nigga for confessing to rats snakes vipers cobras
Batin gave manhood training
Black Arts West/Black House San Francisco
teach  Batin
Criminal Muslim supreme
Heroin addict
Imam in prison
addict/iman big yard
true believer
can't pimp Batin
call him hypocrite Muslim
think for self Muslim
gangster Muslim
true to the game
game true to you
Batin
stand on your shoulders
devoured your bean soup
wheat bread butter honey
Whiting fish
all night long science
marijuana science marijuana
Speak Batin
Speak Ali Sheriff Bey
Speak Aaron Ali
Master Teacher linguistics
Speak Brother Edward
raised us from  dead at San Francisco State University
UC Berkeley San Jose State University
Speak Brother Edward blessed us with supreme wisdom when we were deaf dumb blind playing bid whist in cafeteria at San Francisco State University.
Digame
Digame
Digame!
--Marvin X
5/4/18

Reparations for one ounce of white blood in North American Africans

We want reparations for every ounce of white blood in North American Americans

rape blood not love blood

Vicious rapist white man blood

1619 blood

Good Ship Jesus Pilgrim John Hawkins Amazing Grace blood

Pay the cost

Massa  charlie boss capt.

pay yo pussy bill billy boy

Can you pay

Make America great again pay

you so great again pay

slave hut floor blood pay

mama cry in da nite blood pay

call mama yellow wench

cut baby out mama belly pay

mama recalcitrant rebellious uppity yellow wench pay

yellow wench plot slave revolt wit Gabriel Prosser

read Black Thunder Black Thunder

Pay white man bitch fa every nigga wit blue eyes pay

raped nigga for devil blue eyed black children pay

sold new year's day New York African Village wall auction

Wall Street still auction block

Rev. Cecil Williams Glide Church say pay

Cecil make 'em pay

Love you Daddy C

Did everything fa me

Set Tenderloin free

Cept JB JB JB

Can't save nigga don't wanna be free

can't make donkey stallion

white blood nigga still nigga

Blond hair nigga still nigga pay

Pay fa every blond hair wig wearing nigga today

blond hair wig wearing niggas from America to Africa pay

bleaching cream ebony magazine mulatto bitches pay

for every ounce bleaching cream sold to niggas of yo creation pay

Amiri Baraka say pay for every hurtful thing you said and did pay

Urban plantation niggas sick wit whiteness pay

Pay fa Othello Color Purple Colored Girls Dutchman Butler 12 Years a Slave Roots Amistad 

Pay for every black dream of white desire

Pay poison white supremacist education

Religion

Politics economics 

no manhood womanhood training pay

Pay DNA smart ass white boy

becky pay too

white woman white man in drag

Once of white blood nigga white right

America pay

empty fort knox

empty federal reserve pay.

Marvin X

11/7/18

Marvin X new poems: Ignut Nigga and other poems

 Harlem New York reception for Marvin X at the home of poet Rashidah Ishmaili, 2014. Marvin X was in NYC to speak at the New York University memorial for poets Jayne Cortez and Amiri Baraka.

Maestro Marvin X with the Black Arts Movement Poets Choir and Arkestra, including David Murray, Earle Davis, Val Serrat, et al., Malcolm X Jazz/Art Festival, Oakland CA
photo Adam Turner/Gene Hazzard


Talkin' Ignut poem

Would you prefer a black Communist or black Capitalist regime

Black Muslim

Super Sunni

Iranian Shia

Saudi Arabian Israeli ISIS

Yoruba

Hebrew

Voodoo

Hoodoo 

Doodoo

Gay lesbian trans

Jesus saves Saviours

Social Democratic Republican gangsta

Scientology Farrakhan

Back to Egypt back to the moon

Back to back

Wakanda multicultural

Me too him too

Ho's tricks too

Priests boys too

Women dogs too

What a wonderful world

Can't we all just

Have some Pizza

--MARVIN X

11/5/18

Can I hear some black music 

Can I hear some Black music

Not fusion Miller Lite

Mexican soul music

Mi corazon

Black music

Not white hippie hip hop

Black jazz 

Coltrane Billie Bessie

Blues

Cotton field blues

Cane field

Rice blues 

Chicago pain

Urban blues

Fillmore Street 7th Street Oakland Blues

Hammond B 3 Blues supreme

Jimmy Smith

Earl Father Hines jazz blues

Josephine Baker Slim Jenkin's blues

John Singer Pullman Porter Union Hall Blues

No water down blues

Give me national anthem 

Lift every voice and sing blues.

--MARVIN X

11/5/28

Love Letter to Ann Williams

Ann

can you believe a nigger can love you for fifty years

in silence

from 1962 til now

your black beauty was supreme then and now

your intelligence

quiet character in the midst of madmen supreme

your partner turned out to be the maddest of all

Beyond Donald/Khalid

beyond Huey, Bobby

Ken Freeman, Isaac Moore, Ernie Allen, Maurice Dawson Judy Juanity

Ann
I won't call his name because he honored me
first to recognize me as writer
introduced me to Huey Newton

you were cool through it all

black velvet beauty

sustained years of terror death betrayal 
jealousy envy

Was it your West Oakland spirit

like mine

codified in Harlem of the West

Defermery Park

McClymonds

New Century
Lincoln Theatre
John Singer's Pool Hall/Bar
upstairs

C.L. Dellums  and the Pullman Porters Union

Nephew Ron Dellums
sometimes we can't come close to elders
we try we try
I thought I was better than my father
what a fool
people told me I sounded like my father
Thought I was a Garveyite Black nationalist
on my own
Paul Cobb told me my dad used to attend Garvey meetings
at his grandfather's house in West Oakland

Ann 

cool quiet woman

called upon to listen

Donald Warden ranted on and on in your ear on telephone

He loved your quiet black beauty

unsurpassed unequal

even today

last days of Babylon

you are here

standing tall
royal african beauty and intelligence

queen of the bay
quiet storm

I love you 
just know that

warrior woman

West Oakland Queen

Ann Williams

Better  ax somebody!

--Marvin X
11/5/18

Imagine a nation of north american africans

Note# 22 Imagine A Black Nation

In Memory of Imari Obadele, Republic of New Africa

What happened to Nation Time, the dreams, visions, revisions, disillusions -- a time of hope
unfulfilled, “Driftin’ and Driftin’,  like that Charles Brown blues tune, no more imagination
beyond a return to ancient Kemet, the land we fled four thousand years ago, thus an impossible
return, for who can go home after four thousand years except a mad Jew, and we see what
terror he has caused upon return--Jewish nationalism, white nationalism, black nationalism,
La Raza nationalism, Chinese nationalism, revolutionary black nationalism,et al.

Black nationalism  is a mental drift, the most terrible kind because it tears at the heart as well
as the mind, thus we are drenched in sweat upon awakening from the nightmare of imagination
and must face the bright sun of reality: we have no nation, want no nation, satisfied to be lost
and turned out on the way to grandmother's house (Whispers, Olivia).

Shall we drift from here to eternity, for how can we avoid synchronizing our dreams with
reality, finally and forever, standing on solid ground as we move into the future of a thousand
tomorrows.

Imagine a nation, a land of soul people who are healing their wounds from centuries of terror,
who blame no one except themselves for the terror, for the ship and whip, the cross and
lynching tree, yes, the strange fruit of the last supper in paradise, before entering the door
of no return.

Imagine a nation, somewhere in the South where our people died, where we can honor their
bones and blood, shed in the sun and night, where their spirits still dance in the swamp
and river bottoms, the plantations and huts still standing, where spirits go wild in the wind
and in the stillness of summer.

Imagine a nation, perhaps Up South in the wicked cities that defied the hope and dreams
of generations, maybe there we shall declare ourselves free and claim sovereignty, a place
called the Republic of Pan Africa, like Brooklyn. where we have gathered for the first time
in four thousand years, de facto capital of the Diaspora,  coming from Mississippi, North
and South Carolina Africans, Jamaica and Haitian Africans, Nigerian, Ghanaian and
Senegalese, bound together again, this time forever on Fulton Street and streets too many
to name.

And yes, there is pain and rivalry,  jealousy and envy, love and hate in the night, but we are
there in the sun, in the snow, a nation not yet standing, not fully sensing our power, strength,
the full strength of a mighty nation forced together again, not since fleeing the pyramids and
pharaohs, the murders for succession, the flight of queens with sons and daughters who did
not assume the throne. And there was drought and famine forcing them up the Nile,
the mighty Congo and Niger.

Imagine, the Republic of Pan Africa, not the nationalism of fools, but the product of
engineers, planners and builders who began with a thought centuries ago in the cane,
cotton and rice fields, the woods of Nat Turner, Gabriel Prosser, Denmark Vesey, the
railroad of Harriet Tubman, the womanhood of Sojourner Truth, but caught, yes, as
Rev.James Cone (RIP)  said, between the cross and lynching tree.

But it was the thought that refused to die, yet resurrected every season like the Nile,
the dream of the homeland where we must be taken in once again. Have we not paid for
this land with sweat, blood and tears? It is ours so claim the portion we desire, stand upon
the ground and cry liberty or death, but have we not died a million times, even now at this
hour we crucify ourselves for failing to stand tall as full men and women, our children
annihilate themselves like Buddhist monks on fire in Vietnam, only because we have not
passed on ancestor tales of liberty and freedom, discipline and work.

Imagine a nation, days of absence from our animal selves, and the donning of our divinity,
wherein we hate each other no more, never again, the jealousy, the Willie Lynch syndrome,
Yacoub’s children playing with steel, some genetic defect in our divine nature.

Imagine a nation, removed from those we cannot live with in peace, thus we part from them
and their wickedness, taking with us only the genius of our minds, for look at the fruit of our
labor under the sun, surely we can do the same for ourselves as we did for the master,
transcending the pyramids with our original creations in the now and tomorrow.

But the question is not if but when America falls, what is the post-American plan for North
American Africans? Will we finally acquire sovereignty as a nation of self-determined people,
will we secure a land base with access to the sea, and minerally rich for our centuries of free
and nearly free labor under the sun? Or will we sit with while other ethnic groups secure the
division of this stolen property called the united snakes of america..

Native Americans will want equity for thievery,  their fair share, along with Latinos, Asians
and poor whites—will the so called Negro sit around waiting for the Master to return, or
will he go about, finally and without hesitation, doing for self, reconstructing his fallen cities,
getting control of the infrastructure, water, electricity, roads, schools, workplaces, airports,
taxes, security? We have done it for the white man, 2019 shall be the 400 year celebration of
our landing in this wilderness of North America. Are we prepared to report to God, ancestors,
elders, adults, children on our condition after being kidnapped 400 years ago, 1619.

Long ago we called for Black Power, but with the coming fall of America, we shall have the
opportunity to fulfill our dreams. Oh, it cannot happen? America is too strong. Firstly, you
have no real idea how strong America is just as you have no idea how strong you are—you
are so full of fear you cannot and never have been able to think straight. Every thought
you ever thought has been wrong simply because it was not thinking outside the box of
Americana,                                              because you have been confined to the box and never
had a chance to consider the configuration of your society except for your 19th century
thinkers and dreamers, and your 20th century thinkers and planners. Garvey and Elijah
Muhammad. Imari dreamed of the Republic of New Africa.

Nations come and go, where is Egypt, Rome, Greece, Great Britain and the Soviet Union?
Does the Chinaman have a chance today--you haven't heard that racist remark recently,
for the Chinese have a very good chance to rule the world. so why do you think America
shall remain forever and forever in its present condition?

It will absolutely change because its ethnic minorities shall soon become the majority.
Why are not your leaders planning for the future and our well-deserved fair share?
If and when  America, as did the Soviet Union, falls apart, what do you want? A job?
A job, a job!

You mean after 400 years of free and nearly free labor, you only desire a job? Are you crazy,
are you totally insane or just lazy, like a whore awaiting marching orders from her pimp—
not knowing the pimp is dead, he was killed in a shootout with rivals. Your leaders, why are
they running around licking the behinds of the the Democratic and Republican parties rather
than establishing an independent political entity that will take us into the future?
They shall be charged for their shortsightedness, their myopia of the mind.

Our goal should not be to achieve parity with white Americans (which is mediocrity, at best),
but with India and China. We should forget about equality with Americans and see the global
picture and imagine our role in it. But we are so blinded by white supremacy that all we see is
white, white, white. Look around, the world is no longer white. Power will not be white in the
not so distant future—can you look ahead a few days and plan accordingly or shall you sit on
your behinds awaiting the crumbs from the fall of America?

Time poem by marvin x

Time
final monster in our midst
unconquerable no matter what
time
master all things
living waters rivers oshuns
we follow tides
high tide
low tide
you know tide coming
no stress
tide come soon
moon time
predators
snake wants
raccoon bold
fight dog
kick dog ass
time
Gullah time family time
Gullah family love
Family compound love
Gullah child


sun moon stars
time
before time
beyond time
history mystery
time
nano time
yesterday time
love time
war time
time
no stress time
know thyself time
a time to love time
mother time
father time
mother father time
time for children time
eternal time
mama children time
beyond time
mama time
fly mama
imagine the new world mama.
imagine the new world.

Time
slipping into darkness
time stuck
no motion
back forward
Michael Jackson Moon Walk
Sun Ra say Creator got things fixed
don't do right thing
can't go backward forward
stuck on stupid
Supper Glue on asses.
--Marvin X
11/1/18