Ihsan Muhammad

 


 
 
MAMA MOSES ON THE C TRAIN
 
 
 

And this too shall pass
She laughed out loud
Told stories from beneath potholes
Where children slept naked
In downloaded poison
Prisoners of light
Wearing high heals on their black hearts
Strings attached to their limbs
Dangling in drag
She laughed out loud

And this too shall pass
She told stories of women, who walked on water.
Wearing Chanel shades and micro mini's
On the boulevard
Making love to burger kings
Fallen from grace now they sell
The slim white lady
In bus terminals
Wearing Filas
With no socks
And cocked Kangoes

They tell you what ho to know for e good blow job
Used to be kings, now their queens
Wear sling back, payless pumps
And blond wigs to work
17 black buctious and clean, enough
a sold man's dream

Foxy brown bites, lil' women, with no words
just long tongues
And big lips
Hips

And this too shall pass
She mocked the madness
Whispered words to ALLAh
On the a train
Sittin' in some slain mans sear
Stomach full of hot air and weary wisdom
Too much talking landed her on the street
So now she just speak to herself
Slouching
Across Gam the middle class Mandingo
Waxing his bald head
With
Meryll Lynch
Handkerchief
Listening to EXODUS

Wouldn't ask him for a dime
She says through corroded teeth
His 5' IO thick silhouette
exists On Wall Street,
He Neatly tucks in his ass
Strides onto the platforms
A big ole' Nigga

Used to fight long side, pharaohs
she remembered; now he draws arrows on plastic boards
Makes money for the lords of the underground

Wouldn't ask him for a dime

And this too shall pass
She used to have a black fist
Raised in protest
When brothers got shot in the war
When the world was tryna be righteous
She was a sexy southpaw
Down for the struggle

Write On!
She used to have a black fist,
a long brown arm full of pure red blood
And strong bones
Hair
She used so have that good hair
where brothers would stop her
You
Half Indian
Cuban, mama
But she was bitten by NY lonely frost
Left her left fist
In Brooklyn Community hospital

Write On!

Her hair
She sold

Wanted to recite poetry
But the trains were always crowded
And sinister

She wanted to write about butterflies,
she saw behind her eyes sometimes
But babies kept coming,
the ones she had lost in the melting pot
Babies kept coming, the ones she gave away to vultures
How many babies, how many hits

Coulda been middle class Mandingos
Or maybe murderers
Or Malcolms, Martins
Mine

She spoke in tongues when she was under
The influence
Warriors would come
And sometimes
Prisoners who died on cold floors
Drenched in Urine
But she knew their lives and wore their clothes
.
When they came she dressed for the occasion

And this too shall pass
She sat whispering
to Cute girls
With their finger waves
And loose curls
One hiding black eyes
Behind
Other pulling driveby's
With her friends
For fun
Less then 21
Tears, years wasted in
Subways and hospital
Hallways
No sunlight for pretty
Ones
All shacked up with five souls
To care for one
On the way
Don't call me mommy
She, beaten one, say
And one with gun
Strapped to back
Just shake her head then
"That's why I don’t fuck with men"
Can
1 get a witness
Girlfriend cries amen

And this too shell pass
She knows too
She big
Took up two seats
She smell real bad
Can’t come close

I refuse to be close to the demons
Call out sometimes
Only when the train is empty

Then laugh at her own foolishness
She rest in the middle of the mess
Smokes sess when it become available
Was able too see
Through the darkness once
Now clouds, hatred mixed with
Camel lights
Get in the way

So who makes the sacrifice
When the rain comes in
Call out to the Manhattan wind
Is Jesus here again?
She wants to know
Keep seeing his face on wet pamphlets in the snow
Sighs from within
Yea
Only he rest in our chest
Not in our wallets
 

She lies in the middle of the mess, sometimes
Making excuses for our cruelty

Whirlwinds she say took her by surprise
Her eyes glassy
Kept falling asleep in the street

Strung out
Hooked and Lined
Strung out , mommies
Walking
By
Can't get a dime from their
Babies
No more
Even if they are
Strung Out

And this too shell pass
She wants to know why
Pain stay stuck in the ground so long we walk around
Trying not to worship it
She wonder why
We don'1 just
Go
Jump into the sky
Blind folded
Like God's only children
Living for each  other sins
Going through it
Far what reason

Wack like heart attacks at 24
She ask, what we living for,
Mo Money, Mo' cash, Mo' hoes
Street niggas pose like pro basketball
Their boys get their toes
Blown off
By player haters

Can I get a witness?
She say
All say amen

Am I a preacher?
She break out of the train station
 Wet with only one
Shoe
 Am I a preacher?
 Voice say
You only preacher when they listen to you

So she throwin' it away on
Concrete fantasies
Little Rock is the spot
To go
When shit
Gets too hot
 
 
 

"Flock, follow herdsmen
Get to spot where we all win"
she say when she free
Not observing the poets prophecy
Laugh at the show cry in privacy
God's property, stroll street corners
Wear the same clothes
Everyday

Son ran away
Looking for a better mother than the one he had at home.
Used to beet him with
His daddies belt
For looking at her with his daddy’s eyes
No surprise then when he
Got high for the first time
On some suga caine
From his Rasta friend
Liked it
Loved it
even Wanted to score more
Robbing convenience stores
He'd ruin his own life
 Just to even the score
Tattooed across his chest
"Lived at hell's gate; Died at heavens door”

I can take you through it
She say
Yes that's what she is screaming
Silently
When you pass her
On the c train platform sandals you rock
Cost more than a smile for the mommy who
Waves at you dressed in garbage bags

And this too shall pass
And this too shall pass
And this too shall pass
And she knows
Know why
Cause she rose
This morning
greeted
her maker with a smile
say you can win child
wanted to tell
you wouldn't listen
Hard headed children
But she ain't mad
She know it's a phase
She gives us sunlight
Through her glazed gaze

She smiles with her eyes
Say excuse me, thank you
Even when we spit
On the carpet of concrete
She sleeps on at night

She knows it ain't right
But she still fight
She bite back
When the light
Gets dim
She watch you
From the corner of her
Eye
Wandering all alone
 In the sea
Of suppressed

She wonder why brown folks don’t fly
Why white folks don't fly
 Why red men
 Sit in the dirt
 Think
Of how
Why
Simple life
We want to be oppressed maybe
Ghandi died nothing
Maybe the food she ate was bad
Tonight
Got it from
The garbage tin

On 10th  and Broadway
Didn't make much money today
Sway down the street
Laces untied
Long night in New York
She wants to cry
Don't know no tears left
She just curl her love up
Underneath her breast

She smokes a Newport 100
Halfway
Say
Loosing another battle
Still fighting the war
And this too shall pass
She glow when know ones looking
She glow when know ones looking
Maybe a butterfly last time
Now sleeping beneath
Torn
Cardboard
Makin' plans to win the lottery
'Cept she don't have no address anymore
She know she ain't crazy just bored

Used to read Socrates in the 10'" grade
Before daddy was drafted, mom maid
Into
House slave
Letter came back
Say "Sorry”

Mommy now empty
Get to drinkin'
Stop
Feelin'
Stop thinkin'

She lost her innocence to a young man
Mommy called a rusty nigga
He was her lover for five months
Let her pregnant, for some money in
Virginia slim
Girl wore Let jeans with allot of hair

Was alone then
Torn between many a man’sheets and the middle of the street
Miscarried

Wanted to tell her story
Maybe kind men saw glory
Never said, so
So
Slowly she dying
Right here on the C train
Looking for the future
In the ass crack of the universe

And this too shall pass
She speak in verse
Curs allot
And cough now
Wheezing
These word her last
She wrinkle up a smile
On her pretty brown face
Say with uneven grace
And this too shall pass.


 
 
 
 

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