POETRY:  Malcolm, No “X” No Mo’ F’ You and Me *

Imam Faruq Bilal Rasheed

Posted Jan 4, 2008      •Permalink      • Printer-Friendly Version
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POETRY:  Malcolm, No “X” No Mo’ F’ You and Me *

by Imam Faruq Bilal Rasheed

Malcolm Little became Detroit Red,
Hustlin’, Pimpin’, Conk on his head;
Zoot Suitin’, Lindy Hoppin’,
Dope Walkin’,—Dead.

He was ...
Busted and confined
Witnessing the Truth
That slavery’s done died,
But its ghost is in effect
Preying on Black folks,
Denying all Humans respect.

Though made from the best of molds,
He’d fallen to lows lowest line.
He was called Satan
And thought he was doin’ fine.

‘Til he heard the “life givin’ teachin’s”
of the Honorable E M,
and started believing them.

Malcolm took on his X,
Left the slave master’s name,
Left his old self,
Peeped the slave master’s game.

Malcolm embarked upon rigorous study;
Came out “the bowels of the beast”,
Walked the streets of Harlem,
Talked North, South, West and East.

He woke up the dead
With his brave true words.
Time through the ages,
The whole world heard.

American Media talked about
The “Hate That Hate produced”
and many Americans
Were being seduced—

To accept human injustice and travesty
Targeting Africa’s kin
Malcolm stood up saying,
“We are definitely men!”

As men, We’ll defend ourselves
Against threats to our kind “By any means necessary”.
We’re sane of mind.

We are Muslims
And we fight those who oppress.
When attacked like animals,
We move to stop the mess.

We do what all civilized have done.
We uplift and protect our own.
Our Women and Children are protected
By our Men who are sane and grown.

Malcolm X scared those
Who didn’t understand.
He was called a Crazy Nigger,
Wild Talkin’, Black Muslim
And they just couldn’t figger—

Why or how he got away with it.
Those who knew, either loved or hated
As they worked to be
“Inter” or “Segra” gated.

Malcolm’s gait stayed bold and sure,
But with the Nation of Islam he broke pace;
Still he held on to Islam
And upliftment of the Black Race.

On to Mecca for Pilgrimage
The Brave Warrior went.
Then throughout the world
His time was spent—

Spreading the word
About the unjust USA,
Making contacts
And Paving the way—

For the case of the Ex-slaves’
Redress in International Court.
To bring before the United Nations
The fully Disclosed report—

Of Mans’ inhumanity to man
Based on the color of skin.
With the full Truth disclosed,
Human rights would win.

Malcolm’s job on the home front
Was even harder than this—
Getting people to stand up
And raise their voices with his.

The Organization of African Unity
Was being organized—a pariah
For J. Edgar Hoover and his G-Men’s plan
To prevent the rise of a Black Messiah.

In New York, in the OAU’s infancy,
One wintry day that lingers on,
Our Native Son, Malcolm
Was brutally murdered at the Audubon.

This blow hit us painfully.
We staggered and were felled.
Hot tears came instantly.
Our hearts shrank and swelled.
Malcolm X had been born and had died
And now EI-hajj Malik Shabazz too was dead.
The gravity of these events
Dizzies our bloodstained heads.

We strive to recover.
We strive even now to come back.
The plan to keep us unbalanced
It too is still on track.

Yet, No X No more for you, Malcolm.
No X No More for me.
Our blinders we have stripped off,
Now at last We See!

Originally published in the Winter 1993 print edition of

The American Muslim