Trying To Pay Yourself Into Jennah In our day we think it is possible to pay our-self into heaven, The dire moment of passing dollar bills between hands, Exchanging currency in the airport reminded me of the golden gate bridge, The gates reminded me of captives held without common sense, Due’s show that amount due on our tuition statement implanted crooked laws in books, So I used old sake hoes, horrific pasts contemplated suicide, Society tells us history never repeats, because if it did, Could it still be called History? Would it ever be present? Would present scars associate themselves with old scars? Would Triangle offenses take on the Old Testament with New, the output giving us the Quran? The same way Rosa sat in the front of the bus, The back of the bus stares into every African American’s soul, Not because Rosa didn’t stand up, but because Slavery exists, I see confusing faces, so let me explain in greater detail, We call it the Achievement Gap, The gap between your eyes, Teeth and ears would have been measured by the Nazi’s, We thought this practice extinct, but so did Institutions saying their is no such thing as Racism, Instead, young Black boys and girls had physical measurements detailed, Intellectually measuring creativity in such a way that they were proposed Prison Inmates by 2nd grade, Our society, whether black or white, Christian or Muslim, Jew or Hindu, For so long have been trying to buy ourselves into the Maker’s benevolence, It’s cool, we can shake our head no, But rejecting cough syrup when you got a sore throat, Will make the fall from heights dangerous, So, you say this doesn’t happen? That we don’t try to buy our key in order to open the gate? When you walk after Jummah, As the brother who holds the bin pretending to be the New York Stock Exchange, As auctions seek the highest bidder, Verses of each dollar bill representing multiplicity of good deeds, These deeds flow from our fingers tips into our hearts, From our hearts into our books, From our books into the small pocket watch whose dial cuts the groove of our key, That dollar bill not mentioning nor writing our will, For it will speak its will on the Day of Judgment, We will speak of dropping the currency in the bin to please God, In exchange for walking to the gates not understanding the how or why we deserve what’s inside, The same way we drop dollar bills into our school account, Hoping the piece of paper that had cost enough for us to deserve the economies best fit, I’m not asking for you to buy heels, I’m not asking if they have enough inches measurable to the distance vertically of the stairs, Instead, I ask if you drop coins from your finger tips for the right reason? When we walk down the block, When the homeless man or woman draws chalk on cardboard, Fingernails apparently dirty in your vision, Yet cleaner then your insides, Do you give the dollar out of fear of God? Do you give the dollar out of dua’ to make it to heaven? Or… Do you give the dollar in order to spot a smile as long as the distant sunset, Do you give the dollar in order to hear words not of thanks but “would you sit with me?” You choose…
Posted on: Thu, 14 Nov 2013 00:01:37 +0000
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