بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

The FIRST thing I noticed were the clouds.

It was hard to admit, but somehow they’re BETTER than the clouds where I’m from.

They seem closer, more picturesque,

More PRONOUNCED, against the backdrop of the Azure skies.

Then one morning, I alighted from my lion’s den, pre-dawn,

For a commune with Allah,

The Landscape Around Me Looked As If

It Had Been Digitally Enhanced

The Sunrise Only Added A Gilded Tinge

To The Vibrant Greens of the Cypress Trees

As I Meandered Past.

New Orleans is DRENCHED in Romance.

The feeling overtakes you so suddenly and unexpectedly,

It’s almost overwhelming.

Your insides are reduced to cornmeal mush…

As Ellington’s “Sentimental Mood” evokes a soft chord

In the recesses of your mind.

The desire to retain such emotion is uncontrollably strong.

And it lingers as long as you do.

But errands call, and grudgingly you answer

Moseying along the sunlit but still eerily empty streets.

But soon, just as unexpectedly, another one comes over you,

This time on the banks of the

Majestic Mississippi

The waters ripple magnificently out

Before you –

A mirror of the Midnight Sky

Her gentle waves entice you

But the rocky slope hinders your progress –

The drive home on an elevated highway

Spotlights a Brilliant Sunset

And completely unannounced and without warning

Once again, the feeling of Romance embraces you in invisible arms

But they are as tangible as your own

The Orange Glow Hypnotizes

As the sky is enveloped in a watercolor of hues

Red… blue… pink… gold…

The Birds sing a chorus of the melody and harmony

That reverberates the song going out of your heart

Much, much too soon

The Sun has disappeared below the horizon

Along with her goes her glow,

The moment has passed

And is soon forgotten

Until the next one taps you on the shoulder


You turn around and the bright neon

Of Bourbon Street flashes before your eyes.

The Streets are ALIVE

With Jazz & Merriment & Music!!!

The joyful atmosphere sweeps you high up into the air

And carries you on a cloud of audio/visual delight.

You float through the maze of cafes

Until you’ve had your fill of song and dance of Dixie.

A streetcar screeches by,

Reminding you,

“Hey! You Are In NEW ORLEANS!


Around the Corner

Congo Square Beckons An Ancient Call

You Respond in African Tradition

Drawn By The Beat Of A Djembe

You ask for directions in vain,

No one has heard of it….

The Free Spirits of Your Bond Ancestors

Guide You Regardless,

After A Walk Through Time

A Bevy of Shade Trees

Extend Their Branches

Welcoming You To The Sacred Grounds

Where Our Foreparents Gathered

Three Hundred Years Ago Or More


Cautiously, You Approach The Nucleus of the Center Circle

Of The Square,

Images of Beautiful Asiatic Black Gods and Goddesses Encircle You

Rejoicing in the Bounty and Pleasure of the Others’ Company

Despite Their Collective Wretched Existence.

Think You they felt the same Romance?

The Same Heart-Wrenching Emotion?

The Visceral Pull Of The Elements

Toward The Almighty Oneness of The One God – Allah?





Incredibly, 400 Years later,

The Romance Inherently An Integral Part of this Sacred Ground

Still lingers….

It thrills and enchants one of their Scions,

Who Just Can’t Find It In Her Heart

To Leave………

Behind the Wall in Nawl…….

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

So, I’m pretty positive the devils who arrested me were both KKK AND MASONS. I know, I know KKK are supposed to be Christians but Masons (Muslim sons) are the biggest liars in history.

As we came through the fence surrounding the jail, we passed two older Brothers sitting there. I wondered why.

We reached the entrance to the jail. The driver mentioned you have to push the button next to the car for someone to open the gate, but he made no move to push the button!

Then, here comes Uncle Tom, ambling all the way from his post by the fence and HE pushes the button. :/ I was floored (to borrow a word from my Dearest Zawji 😉 ).

Then as if that wasn’t bad enough, the devil had to comment on my poor Brother’s mental slavery condition, to make sure I bore witness to what is still going on down here in Dixie. I was imbibed with embarrassment.

All the Sheriffs, except one male and two females, were Black.

They let me keep my Holy Qur-an, but handcuffed me and forcibly removed my headpiece after I refused to do it myself. Then they held it hostage until I had completely finished the booking process. I was only required to remove it for the mugshot. Christians. :/

Allah (swt) Has Already Paid Them Back Their Mockery. I tried to reason with them.

I took the picture. Can I put my headpiece back on?”


Why not?”

“Because you wouldn’t cooperate.”

You asked me to do something that is completely in opposition to what Allah (God) Prescribed for me to do as a Muslim woman. Of course, I’m not going to go against my religion. I fear Allah ONLY.

“You’ll get it when I give it to you. If I give it to you.”

We were in a huge auditorium-sized waiting room (Lock-Up) full of men (one white) and they would not allow me to cover my head, as Allah prescribed. I feel sorry for what Allah (God) Has Already done to them.

He (Allah) Has Killed three people for me (that I know of) already!

  • My neighbor
  • My landlady
  • My psychiatrist

Without me even asking!

So, one of my bitch-ass father’s doppels is ( أستغفر الله) threatening to take my headpiece permanently and I’m pacing back and forth trying to keep from losing it. (Bitch) Then one of the Sheriffs tells me to sit down. I said something smart, probably like (“I’ll sit down when I feel like it!” or something like that) and they put me in a holding cell, which was even better, because I could isolate.

Other women, eventually, were put in the cell with me. If they had to use the bathroom, the Sheriffs brought them in there, and left them. Even though there were two other single restrooms right outside the holding cell. That’s where they took me after my bodyscan came out questionable and they acted like I had something under my clothes and had to stripsearch me. I TOLD them why it came out like that, and asked them to just do another one. But Christians………

Then, they did that to this devil. I was mad they let her in there in the first place. But anyway, she went postal when they wouldn’t let her back out. Talking about, “I need my meds!!!!” SMH She started banging her shoe against the glass, but to no avail.

Eventually, she sat down and started thumbing through my Holy Qur-an. Ten years ago I would have snatched it out of her hand, kicked her in the face and called her a Universal Snooping Devil.

But, I’m older, wiser and much calmer now. I even sort of respected her for having the intelligence to even try and read it. None of the Sisters gave it a second look. But, I had to say something!

“You have to wash your hands before you touch that Book.”

She said something, washed her hands and started trying to involve me in a conversation. I wasn’t having it. She was a devil. And I don’t talk to devils.

Eventually, she went back to banging on the window, got turnt up and picked up my Holy Qur-an again.

“Give me my Book,” I didn’t like the way she was holding it.

“How do I know it’s yours?”

“Bitch, Do you not see this fucking headpiece?!?!” I thought.

“Give me my Book.” I said calmly.

“Is your name in it?”

I looked at her stale cheek.

Hit it” Allah Demanded.

“Give me my Book.” I didn’t want to.

“Prove it’s yours.”

Then I gave her a nice jab to her right cheek.

She immediately started screaming for the deputies, who basically ignored her. Then she paused for a minute, tasting blood. “I’m bleeding!!!! I’m bleeding!!!!!

I couldn’t believe it. I’ve been in many fights and never has anyone started bleeding. Devils are so weak-boned and stale-faced, just like Our Beloved Messenger, The Most Honorable Elijah Muhammad (PBUH) taught us.

I was holding in a laugh as the Sheriffs just walked by ignoring her. By now, she’s wiping blood on the glass. “I’m bleeding!!!” Everyone is paying her absolutely no attention. One of the Sisters laying on the bench, was like, “Will you shut up? I’m trying to get some sleep!” LOL

So then she got even more mad and picked up my Holy Book and slammed it on the ground.

It was on.

I attacked her and eventually the Sheriffs did come in and removed her from the cell. Which is really what both parties wanted in the first place….

* * * * *

New Orleans’ jail is so laid back compared to L.A. The inmates practically run the shit. I saw women switch dormitories, order the deputies around, and make them wait until they (the inmates) felt like going back in their cells.

When we changed into our prison garb, they just told us to put our clothes in a garment bag and turn it back in to them. They had such cute garments! They were, to borrow a phrase from my crazy neighbor who hates my guts, “Cal-Trans Orange” and came in coveralls, t-shirts, sweatshirts, shorts and pants. Even the sandals matched!

I tried to just put the coveralls on over my garment, but this one wanna be sergeant, peon deputy asked me if I still had on my clothes? How he knew? Your guess is as good as mine. So, I just gave them the dress, but I kept my pants-skirt on. I didn’t mind so much because I had a sweatshirt to cover my arms. I thank Allah!

I am ashamed to even tell you what we have to go through in the City of Angels. :/

Single file into the huge changing room. Face the wall. “When I say ‘Take off your shirt’ take off your shirt, fold it and put it in the plastic bag on the right side of the table behind you. When I say ‘Take off your pants’ take off your pants….” Until everybody is standing there butt naked. Then, “When I say ‘Put on your panties….'”

Yet another reason when I’m never going back to L.A. That is, unless Zawji pleases. 😉

I’m pretty sure Allah (God) Desires that I go to Harlem next. I’ve been there before tho, and I’ve been trying to get to Atlanta since January, but I’m pretty sure all the cities in the South are basically identical, with New Orleans being the standout.

I’m sayin’. I’ve met people from Birmingham, Mississippi and even ATLANTA, who came here (NOLA), so I’m like, “Why should I go there?” :/

But Zawji wants me to stay put until after his B-Day. 😀

This Duke Ellington autobio is what made me Know Allah (God) Wants me to go back to Harlem.

He AND Gordon Parks, (whose autobio I put down so I could read the Duke’s) had to go to Harlem twice before they made it. This will be my second time. So, I really have to wait for Zawji. NYE in Times Square would be fresh ta def tho. Word.

Being a CALIFORNIA GIRL, this will be my first time experiencing a real change of seasons also. I can’t wait to bear witness to the Autumn leaves and take an afternoon stroll with my Zawji.  #23days 😀 ❤ ❤ ❤

(*I once checked this c.d. out at the library and the librarian asked me if I had returned a certain c.d. and I was like “No, Something Else” 😀 LOL)

Why, when I came home the other day, I couldn’t wait to savour the days catch of a french roll and a quart of whole milk! Only to discover I had left the milk at the place where I had used the computer.

Talk about dejected!

So, I went to the hotel store and was waiting for an opportunity to come up when here comes Head of Security – “Joe Smith: American Negro.”

“Um, excuse me Ma’am. Can you come with me?”

“Do I have a choice?” :/ Really.

He led me through a part of the hotel I had never been and then to “his office” pfffff :/

I felt an opportunity to break, but thought about it too long.









All I could think about was the numerous times the Deputies kept repeating, “And, don’t come back!” when I got released the first time.

Joe Smith: American Negro explained to the police over the phone, the nature of my crimes and please hurry.

I was not looking forward to seeing those Roman Catholic die-hards, who were so happy to see me go the first time, again.

And I really didn’t want to discover my Sweet little Sister who was so preoccupied with her children, but listened intently as I talked about the Messenger (PBUH), was still there.

That would’ve broken my heart. 😥

But there was “Sister Security” in “his office” and just like every other Southern Belle I’ve encountered here in Dixie, she was just as accommodating and convivial as she could be.

She gave me cold water and refreshments and we got to talking and discovered that we have a lot in common as far as traditional values go. She said she really wished she could be there when her 16-year-old son got home from school. And, when he called, she gave him the wisdom of a Sage. I added my two-cents and took it up to the next level.

Eventually, she buttered up Big Poppa Joe and convinced him to let me go after I promised (I really hope I didn’t give my word…) not to return.

You know I did. 😛

I hope I didn’t get you fired, Poppa. I heard you were running around the hotel looking for me. BUT, If I did, Brother, open up your own Security Service and do something for yourself. Tell those devils standing on your neck to kiss your Black you-know-what!

* * * * *

But back to our story…..

When I got to the dormitory, it looked like the men’s prisons I see on the news. In L.A., every body has a cell. You might have a “cellie” or you may have one all to yourself.

This jail looked like a big bomb shelter. It was made completely out of metal plates and there were bunk beds lined up toward the rear, with some cots between them. The very back wall held five cells for the particularly unruly Sisters. One of them was only seventeen, but she was so out of control that I had to cast my eyes in another direction when they let her out. I had tried to talk to her about the Messenger (PBUH) though and she seemed to listen.

There were lunch tables in the front of the dorm.

I got my mattress and chose a top bunk in the very back. I was right next to one of Neb Love’s (Five-Footaz) Doppels and thought she would be cool to bunk next to, seeing as how she’s Leimert Park folkers. I forgot or didn’t think it would matter that she’s a lesbo.

So, everything was pretty cool at first. (I started to write ‘the first few days’, but I was only there 2 and a half :/ Time goes by at a snail’s pace when you’re incarcerated…) But the second Sister who showed a genuine interest in Islam after I got there, talked to her so meanly (? is that a word? :/  No squiggly red line underneath, so I’ma roll with it.) Anyway, I couldn’t believe it! I have only heard one person speak meaner (Zawji :/ 😉 ) I could not understand, WHY she spoke so harshly toward this Sister EVERY TIME she spoke to her. Neb might not even be paying her any attention and she would say something so cutting to her I almost felt sorry for her, but she had already lost my sympathy when she showed aversion to her salvation – ISLAM.

THEN, one night she (Neb) started banging this beat on the wall and singing some filthy song.

I ignored her and kept reading my Holy Qur-an. But, then this red devil started disrobing and dancing like a stripper. Meanwhile, I’m trying to reason with all the girls on my team not to get caught up in the devil’s wickedness, they’ve been doing that since they were in the caves and they only want us to go to hell with them……

But my efforts to enjoin them to righteousness fell on deaf ears.

Soon, the whole dorm was in an uproar, each girl, challenging her or egging her on. I’m still trying to read my Holy Qur-an and ignore it all.

Neb’s still banging away, THEN, the red devil decides to position her filth RIGHT NEXT TO MY BUNK AND STARTED HUMPING THE FLOOR!!!! I looked down in disgust. She kept it up though and I know she chose that spot just so she could affront and insult me, who was trying to be and show righteousness to my Sisters. (But who had also been, very loudly, calling her a devil all day and the day before 😉 )

I knew I had to do something or the situation would spiral out of any control. More importantly, I had to let her and everybody else in there know that she could not and would not get away with disrespecting the righteous without there being some consequences.

So, I threw my Holy Qur-an at her sinful ass.


She got up and I hopped down. She was ready to fight and everybody else was backing her up.

I was the Lone Voice Crying out in the Wilderness.

But here comes Deputy Jane to rescue me from their murderous machinations.

She took me outside and I was so happy to once again be out among the bees and trees and flowers that I barely heard her excuses.

I went back in victorious because everything was back to normal and apparently, it’s a very, very big deal when the Deputy has to escort you out. 😉 #likeaBOSS

I had a court date the very next day, which was also better than L.A. You might be up in there for two weeks before you ever see a judge. They had me in there 28 days once.

Anyway, to give you an example of how jacked up Louisiana courts are, Our Beloved Messenger (May the Peace and the Blessings of Allah Forever Be Upon Him) wrote about them in MESSAGE TO THE BLACKMAN IN AMERICA and I just read an article about it in their own newspaper.

So, I was kind of nervous. But, I didn’t go that day because they wouldn’t allow me to bring my Holy Qur-an. I really couldn’t part with it that day and so I refused court.

But Allah is the Best Knower, because I spent all day with the Sisters who were extremely interested in Islam; answering their many inquiries and telling them everything I know that would put them on the Road to Freedom, Justice and Equality, Knowledge of Self, God and our open enemies the devil Caucasians.

But, I did go the next day and just like in L.A., if you plead guilty, you get immediate discharge – no questions asked.

But two Sisters, on two separate occasions told me they had entered a guilty plea with the public defender, but she entered a not guilty plea instead. That’s what happened to the Sister who was worried about her children. She was supposed to be out, but the devil Public Defender changed her plea without her knowledge and entirely in opposition to her original request.

The Judge and his assistant or Court mediator, or whatever she was, could not stand her (the public defender), neither could the inmates.

So, I watched her fill out my paperwork very closely and my guilty plea was entered. “Mrs. Jamillah Washington” was being released. LOL 😉 No fees. No fines. No court dates. First offence, you know…. 😉 😛

But, as the court was wrapping, some of the inmates started voicing their disapproval of the defense. (Oh yeah, before I forget, there’s a microphone where you can actually TALK TO THE JUDGE!!!!!. In L.A., if you even THINK about saying something they (the judges, attorneys, staff, Sheriffs, EVERYBODY) act like you committed murder. So, as soon as I got up there I said this secret Masonic teaching that will get you off EVERY TIME! That’s probably why I got off so easily, with No fees and whatnot. EVERYBODY else had court fees. It was so common that I began to think that that was all they cared about. THE BENJAMINS. “Can you pay today?” “$250 fine” “$60 for 12 months”…. and so on…. Also, the Judge didn’t announce over the mic that I had no fees, like he announced everybody’s fines, the public defender came and whispered it to me.

When you go to court, all you have to do is say…… Nah, I can’t go out like that. 😛











* * * * *

So, anyway, some of the inmates start telling the Public Defender, she needs to go home and study some more and whatnot. So, I decided this was the perfect time to confront her about the two Sisters who told me she changed their pleas. She assured me she would never do anything like that. Naive Love Allah said, “Not even if you were convinced it was in her best interest?”

Oh no,” she said, “I would NEVER do that!”

She sounded so sincere, I almost believed her. The Archdeceiving Devil! So then, I said,

“Well, somebody is lying, and THEY DON’T EVEN KNOW EACH OTHER. So, I think it’s you.”

She didn’t say anything after that.

I started to take the LSAT to go to Law School. But I didn’t have any I.D. I was in the process of changing my name and I refused to get an I.D. in my slave name. So, I never took it. But I know I could be a kick-ass lawyer.

I had the study guide with me one day when Hakim (my son) and I were in an American Sign Language (ASL) class. This deaf Brother came in and inquired about the book. I told him I was studying it. He told me it was good because there are a lot of deaf Brothers in the criminal justice system who are as mistreated as any other Blackman in America, but it’s more difficult for them because in addition to a racist defender they have to have an interpreter. So, they kind of have two strikes against them. Most Blackmen only have to deal with a racist lawyer. They have to deal with both a racist lawyer AND a racist interpreter.

Okay, for the sake of my deaf Brothers, I will tell you what to say to the Judge. I love ya’ll. 😉 Just say, “I SEE YOU ARE A TRAVELING MAN.”

That’s all. He won’t say anything to acknowledge that he heard you. But don’t you say anything either. *whispering* It’s supposed to be a secret, remember? He will give you a much lighter sentence, extra time to pay your fine, if you already have one or even dismiss your case. I’ve done it several times. Every time I went back to ask for extra time to pay a fine, the Judge was like, “How much time do you need?” LIKE THAT!

In conclusion, I remember, when I was about 12, telling my mother I wanted to be a Judge when I grew up. She said I would have to be a lawyer first and I was like, “Nah.” LOL

 #kids ❤ ❤ ❤ #gottaloveem


بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم


















Realizations, Resolutions and Resumation

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum Beloved Black People

I’m still in “The Big Easy” and loving every minute of it. I had no idea I would love New Orleans this much!

For about the past year, it seemed as if every one I met was from Louisiana.

Allah (God), Master Fard Muhammad, To Whom Praises are Forever Due, Speaks to us using signs. So, this, coupled with the fancy I had that my Zawji’s family is from Louisiana, led me to take this journey. (Being an avid lover of Jazz music only added to my desire to fulfill this Wanderlust.)

I went to Vegas in January (after initially planning to go to ATL), and had an incredible feeling that I was not supposed to return to L.A. But I hated the wickedness in Vegas, so I went back.

This trip, I purchased a one-way ticket, knowing Our Saviour and Zawji wanted me to relocate. But while I waited for the bus, I was overcome with the fear that I would run out of money and end up stranded thousands of miles from him, broke and penniless, with no means to return (which is exactly how I am now, LOL 😛 ) So, I bought a return trip ticket.

This morning, I came to some resolutions about this extraordinary life Allah (God) Has Given Me.

Reality #1 – My father is a pervert with whom I can have no contact if I want to have any peace in life.

Reality #2 – My mother is an evil witch.

Reality #3 – (sum of Reality #1 and #2) I am basically an orphan.

Reality #4 – My siblings as well as my blood relatives (with the exception of my son) are trying to steal or prevent me from enjoying the Blessings of Allah (God) which are my Birthright and I MUST cast off and forsake them COMPLETELY lest I help them to ruin me.

Reality #5 – My daughter is working with my enemy to help try and destroy me and the Righteous Nation of Earth (MUSLIMS).

Reality #6 – My Zawji, willingly and knowingly, has me out here alone to fight off predatory men by myself.


In a seedshell, I am in this wonderfully romantic city (Halle was so right!) experiencing the South for the first time, Coming to grips with reality, Thankful to have a roof over my head and personal security. My ticket home was for the tenth, but someone stole it, which was perfect because I didn’t want it to go to waste.

I had no plans to return to “the other L.A.” It doesn’t feel like home anymore. Leimert is being overrun with devils. DTLA as well. I mean, we can have a house or apt. there, if Zawji pleases, but not for the whole year. Unless he pleases, of course.

THIS LA is absolutely AMAZING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The devils are a special kind of stupid though. Any old regular sidewalk devil thinks I am supposed to do what he/she says. :/ Miss me with that old world mentality.

I’m really thinking about settling down here. Really, I have no choice since I have no money and no means of transportation 😉 But the music is a powerful incentive to keep me settled right here.

One night, my Zawji told me to have dinner at this fancy $$$$ restaurant. KNOWING I was flat broke. But I hear and obey. So, I ordered the Red Snapper after they told me they were out of Salmon. That’s another thing about NOLA! They specialize in seafood, and I’m a pescatarian! Mind you, some (a lot) of it is not fit for human digestion, but if you know what to order….. OMG, when I saw that snapper, I wanted to slap the people over at Shabazz (they’re not Muslims anymore anyway). They won’t even BAKE it!

Another reason the food is so good down here is because New Orleans was founded by the French, and to them food is sacrosanct.

Anyway, when the time came to pay, I lied and say I lost my ATM card. It was kind of late and a Sheriff was there. So, the manager asked me what church did I belong to? I was like, Huh? What does that have to do with anything. But I remembered this Underground Rail Road book always listed what society the slave owners belonged to like it was a really big deal. Apparently nothing has changed.

Secret Societies are very prevalent down here too. The Police Department symbol is the Masonic Star and Crescent.

This one has the sword.

I can hardly believe this one.

The Black Business owners are all Masons, everybody else serves the slavemasters. But, really, they’re all slaves, because the Secret Societies were given to the devils.

If they were Muslims, they would know better. They are trying to get me in that stuff, but I have laid ahold to the handle that will not break off (Islam). So, I’m like, Nah.

The devil Illuminati members may as well commit suicide. It’s run by devils (Jews) and their time has been up since 1914. You Black members have a chance. Join on to YOUR OWN KIND – THE RIGHTEOUS NATION OF ISLAM (but shun Louis Fraudacoon) WHILE YOU STILL HAVE TIME.

Anyway, I gave the Sheriff, a fake name, fake SS#, told her I didn’t have any ID and so, of course, I came up clean. But, while I was waiting for the results, I tried to tell this Brother bussing tables about Message To The Blackman. He was too afraid of the devils to even acknowledge my presence.

The Sheriff got all belligerent and tried to tell me to stop talking to him. Pffffffff I talk to whomever I want to talk to. Seriously? You think you can tell me who I can talk to? GTFOHWTBS. She was all possessive, like he was still a bondservant. “See Nigger, he works so he can pay for his food!”

These devils LOVE to see us working for them. THAT’S ALL THEY BROUGHT US OVER HERE FOR IN THE FIRST PLACE!

I met one of my Zawji’s Doppelgangers parking cars for the devils at the hotel I’m stowing away in. He told me he makes more parking cars for the devil (due to their tax-free tips) than he did as a psychologist.

I told him, “Sure, they’ll keep you rich because they know it will prevent you from doing something for your own self and for your own people. They don’t care HOW much it costs to keep you in slavery as long as you remain their slave.” 

Anyway, I stuck to my story, “Devil,” I thought, but I said, “I got money, I just lost my card!”

So, since I had no record 😉 she told me, the owner was going to be lenient and let me go but that it would be nice if I came back the next day with my card and paid.

I didn’t even point out to her dumb ass that, “I told you I LOST my card, Stupid Devil.”

Anyway, on the way out, the piano was beckoning me (almost every building in New Orleans has a piano #birthplaceofjazz ) and so I asked if I could play.

The manager’s face lit up like a neon sign. “You can play?” Hell yeah, Devil. I wouldn’t have asked. :/ So, he was like “Play me a tune and we’ll call it even.” I was like, “Okay, but you have to turn off the music playing in the speakers.” He gave the order but I couldn’t wait. I had been dying to play since I got here. But these so-called Negroes, working security at most of these places, are so afraid of their slave-master’s children that they always say no.

So, I played my favorite song to play. I usually play it at least three times, but A.) They were devils and I felt like a coon, dinner or no. and B.) I want to get paid for my talent. And, sure enough when I finished, the Sheriff said, “That was worth fifty dollars.” And since my dinner was only about forty, I said, “Okay, then you owe me now!”

I would love to get a singing gig out here, but I have to find a spot in the Black Community. I’m staying Downtown and all of the patrons are devils. My “Coon Register” won’t allow me to do that.

But yesterday I went to the hood (9th ward) and did not see ONE devil. ALL BLACK PEOPLE. Unfortunately though, I didn’t see any jazz clubs. Just a strip joint. :/

I can’t do Canal Street or The French Quarter. They’re just like Vegas and yesterday I was thrilled because the bus took me down Basin Street. But Allah (God) (swt) Told me it’s WORSE than Vegas.


Anyway, they have a lot of KIPP (Knowledge is Power Prep) schools, which are predominantly Black and I have a vested interest in the education of our youth, so I’m going to apply for a job. IKR? Me? And a job? I’m almost like T on “Same Gang” when it comes to a job. #badjoke But, I see too many devils there and when I asked one of the students what he wanted to be when he grew up, he said, “a football player” I knew I had to at least apply. They need me.

I met this Brother who looked just like Ossie Davis. He is a P.I. and I’m really good at this stuff, so I sent him an e-mail.

I really would be like T, before having to work in the service industry slaving for the devils (“I’d rather jack another Brother, watch the gun smoke.“) but I don’t want to go back to jail.

I was walking down Carrolton and passed yet another KIPP Academy. Allah (God) Told me to go closer so I could read the sign on the door. It said, they had moved to another location. Curiousity piquued my interest, so I squeezed through the fence, tried all the doors, finally the last window I tried gave way, and I went in.

Inspirational Quotes covered the halls and walls.

“Don’t count the days….. Make the days count.”   – Muhammad Ali

“Whatever you do, strive to do it so well that no man living and no man dead and no man yet to be born could do it any better.”   – Benjamin E. Mays

Well, the theme of this particular KIPP Academy is “Believe” and there was a wall on the staircase (which, unfortunately the door leading to it was equipped with a silent alarm which I tripped unknowingly :/ ) where the students could leave their own sayings.

So, I’m bawling in the hallway, reading these inspirational, and profound quotes from such ambitious and goal-oriented Black youth, thinking about my own son who is their contemporary, back in L.A., (completely oblivious to the police who were downstairs waiting to take me to jail for trespassing).

One young Brother wrote, “Don’t say the sky is the limit, if there are footprints on the Moon.”

I had a really good time there in that institution of learning though. I found a textbook on Louisiana that kind of filled my thirst for knowledge about this strange and unusual land in which I am such an enthusiastic spectator.

New Orleans is so fascinating! They have “stuff.” Like Mardi Gras, which I am so glad is not until March. I have a healthy, righteous fear of that type of debauchery. I can’t believe there are supposed to be religious reasons behind why the people practice such filth and indecency!

They have the bead thing going on. Allah (swt) told me they symbolize prosperity/wealth and whatnot. The fleur de lis is the bomb because it’s like a symbol that everybody from the city can represent. That’s unity.

I think it’s dope.

The city is surrounded in water. I saw a little frog on someone’s mailbox one morning. Blew my citified mind! Lizards are everywhere. I think I even saw a salamander. It has got to be the abundance of water that feeds the Yoruba/Voodoo spirit down here too.

This one Brother told me, when I first stepped on the scene, that people thought I was a Voodoo Queen. I thought that was “rather unique.” To quote my Zawji. 😉

I’m just thankful I found a place to rest and keep my stuff, other than one of the many abandoned houses left by the Great Flood.

I cry everyday almost (I haven’t today). The awfulness catches you so off guard. I can be walking along and then there’s a ten-story hotel completely destroyed and still in a state of disrepair because of a hurricane that hit TEN YEARS AGO.

Every other house, in certain areas, still has not been repaired and the city looks like ruins. The smell of rotted flesh still wafts by on the passing of a sudden gust of wind. It is beyond words what that storm did to an entire city.

Every time it rains, you can feel the tension. No one says anything; but you can feel it.

People I talk to say they were gone from six months to a year. Their whole lives destroyed. Their whole city destroyed.

I haven’t talked to any of the youth yet. They’re young adults now. I can’t imagine what they went through.

I passed an empty lot a while back, that was fenced off. It was rather big and covered with grass. There was an interesting sculpture and some cement blocks with plaques on them. You already know I trespass, so I went through an opening in the fence and learned that it used to be a school before it was destroyed by Hurricane Katrina.

That’s what really got me to thinking about the impact it had on the children. I can’t imagine what it must be like to have to go past that vacant lot after having been a student at the school that is no more. A constant reminder of Katrina.

The government should have never built a school there in the first place.

It was really an old slave burial ground and they built the school on top of it. Devils have no regard for Black lives. Or deaths.

I bought a phone before making this trip but late one night, I was sitting in a little courtyard (homeless, remember?) enjoying my solitude and here comes my father’s doppelganger disturbing my peace. I threw a metal chair at him.

We started fighting in the street then the Law came and he left. Only to return talking about he couldn’t find his keys. (My father used to offer a reward to whomever could find his keys!)

Allah (God) (swt) Told me to throw my phone at him. “I’ma leave. I’ma leave. Just let me find my keys.”

I was staring in an utter state of incredulity. How can this be? My real father is in L.A. Yet, here is this man, exactly like him. He lifted his shirt, showing me his bare stomach and wiped his brow. I was completely disgusted. He was FLIRTING WITH ME!!!!!! MY FATHER!!!!!!!!!!! I’m nauseous thinking about it. But I threw my phone at him again. Another time and he kept it. But he left for good.

In 1996, when I began my conversion to Islam, Allah (God) To Whom Praises are due forever, started revealing to me old and shameful secrets I had buried deep in my subconscious. They manifested through “psychotic breaks” and my father had me committed to the psych ward, knowing full well what was going on.

He carefully monitored my doctor visits and made sure I stayed on the medication, trying his best to keep his indecent acts hidden. But–All Praise Is due to Allah for the Honorable Elijah Muhammad (Peace Be Upon Him) whose famous quote is my favorite, “We are Living in the Day and Time wherein the veil of falsehood MUST be removed and the TRUTH MADE MANIFEST.” 

I stayed on the medication for fifteen years. It allowed me to function without episodes or hospitalization but I always knew that there was an underlying reason behind my “mental disorder” and I had every intention of getting to the root cause of it, in the footsteps of my Leader, Teacher and Guide, The Honorable Elijah Muhammad (PBUH).

In 2013, I told my Doctor, I wanted to get off the medication. So, he began a process of weaning me off. Eventually, he showed his true hypocritical colors and Allah (God) (swt) ended his life for mistreating me.

Eight months after I stopped taking my meds, I had, just as I knew I would, an episode.

This time, however, I was in an environment that was conducive to my getting all the way through it. Every other time, my father had called the police. He knew if I was able to get through the “episode” what would happen.

ALL PRAISE IS DUE TO ALLAH. I fully remember him molesting me as a child and am able to, as difficult as it is, face the TRUTH. Allah Does Not Give Us a Burden that is too difficult for us to bear. And, this is extremely difficult.

Knowing he has custody of my son is a source of constant discomfiture for me, but my son has Supreme Wisdom and me and Most Importantly, Master Fard Muhammad, To Whom Praises Are Due Forever. He is The BEST PLANNER.

So, I’m here in NOLA fighting this Holy War (ARMAGEDDON) as a Sister Captain. My Grandfather used to call me “Grandma Moses” when I was little. I never knew why until yesterday.

Our Beloved Messenger, The Honorable Elijah Muhammad (May the Peace and the Blessings of Allah Be Upon Him) Taught us that he was the prophet like unto Moses described in Deuteronomy 18:15. Because like Moses, he had to change his people’s religion.

The people of Moses were worshipping Pharaoh and his people. Moses had to teach them of the God of their fathers and turn them back to Islam.

The Honorable Elijah Muhammad (PBUH) had to do the same thing with us – the so-called Negroes. We have been in the white slavemaster’s religion of Christianity and Allah (God) Had to Find Us and Raise Up One From Among Us To Teach Us Of Him and the Religion of Our Fathers – ISLAM.

Most everybody out here is Roman Catholic. I’ve met a Baptist. But everybody else has been Roman Catholic. I’ve never seen Black People wearing rosaries. Every time I see one, I tell them, “That is a righteous Brother they hung on that cross! It is a symbol of MURDER. There is no life for you in a cross symbolizing death. YOU SHOULD RUN FROM THE CROSS!” 

I’m changing their religion, just like Moses and Our Beloved Messenger (PBUT).

The Holy Qur-an says when you get married you get a year off from fighting, if there’s a war going on. Maybe that’s why my Zawji has not proposed yet. Allah maybe wants me to fight still.

I tried yesterday to not go about proselytizing, but I couldn’t do it. I cut down a lot, but not completely. Even today, I asked a Brother if he had read Message To The Blackman and instantly felt like I blew it.

Maybe tomorrow.


بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم


You’ve Got Swagger For Dayz

It manifests itself in SO MANY WAYZ

From The CROWN Of Your Fedora

To The STAR On Your Chucks

From the Free-Throw Line to Three-Point-Land




But given time,

I can make a rhyme…. 😉

Like Dapper….


Good Looks/Luck And Talent To Spare

Cooler Than My Homemade Honey Ice Cream


The ONE Every Girl Prays For…….


And He’s Mine Forever and In All Ways

And He’s Got Swagger For Daze…..