After reading the site of Izzy Mo I was inspired to write a little poetry today being that she has so much art on her site.
When I write I just flow off the top of my head, so some of it may be crude and bad language, but here it is, and I guess it is what I had on my mind.
That Muslim Male
I don’t sit and think about waterfalls and butterflies
I think about watching my enemies die and bullets fly
Fist to your skin blades that stick in
I don’t dream about the sounds of birds and bees
I dream of dying without being forced to my knees
I serve the Most Merciful but He is also the Avenger
These days we got a lot of Muslim pretenders
Things going on these days really messin with my mind
If I didn’t know better Id reach right now for my nine
But we gotta sit back and have a little sabr and hikmah
I’m a Man, a Muslim Man
Not some latte sippin faggot on 14th street
I’m the akh from the mean street timin the cops beat
Do you want the man to lie and say he dreams of loving you
Or to be honest and say he dreams of fucking you.
Shall we do this Shia and just have a muta
Or do it Sunni on the low and say estafurAllahu
Did we all not delight in the back of our minds when the towers fell?
For that joy shouldn’t we really be going to hell?
American-Muslim getting double-penetration
Distrusted abroad and in our own nation
Not to dwelve, we dont even trust ourselves
All the akhees gone away, pocket empty, minds playing tricks
Man, it may just be that time when I should start throwing bricks