بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
Sophisticated & DEBONAIR
THE PERFECT PAIR
Dressed FORMALLY for a Night In
Just Don’t Get Around Much… Anymore…
Twenty years it has been….
Age has set in…
The two young children,
Have grown into
The Lady and Her Genteelman
Who Does EVERYTHING HE CAN
To Keep Her Satisfied
She reciprocates
Each acting out his/her part
In this place
On this stage
Called
“The Game of Life”
Set on Earth
But includes the entire Universe
And EVERYONE
On EVERY Planet
IN IT.
“THE WORLD IS OURS“
As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum Dearly Beloved Sisters and Brothers
So, I just got back from a live episode of Frazier. 
I red in the paper about an event called “Words and Music 2015” So, you know the first thing I associate the title with is Jilly’s debut album, right? Wrong?
First thing that should’ve tipped me off to what lay in store for the afternoon was when I walked out onto the sidewalk and found myself swimming upstream in a sea of Saints fans, heading towards the Superdome.
This continued for the next three blocks (dwindling) until I made a right on Canal.
It was raining lightly and I rather enjoyed the walk.
A Brother gave me directions (practically escorting me) to the hotel where the event was being held. I’ve been here two months and am starting to feel more like a tourist than when I first arrived.
I was only a handful of Black people who were not servicing the devils.
#dtno is like walking into a nail shop wherein if you stand in the front all you see are Korean faces. But if you stand in the back all you see are Black faces.
So, I felt obligated to tip him one of four dollars I had panhandled the other day.
I was at the Greyhound station where I stop to freshen up and had decided to wait for this Brother who had gone in the bathroom to roll one.
So, I’m just there like, what? So, I was asking the sundry Black people who happened by to buy me some ice cream. No one did, so then this guy who looked like a devil hippie “Shaggy” type backtracks passing by and Allah (swt) Told me to ask him.
Now, I never ask devils for shit, but sometimes it’s hard to tell, so I submitted.
He gave a common reply that I’ve heard a lot in NOLA but never in L.A. “For what?” I thought I would try him out and said, “Um, 400 years of Slavery?” He started mumbling something incomprehensible but also started digging in his wallet and handed me $4.00. #symbolic #getit? #4
Anyway, I gave the Brother who escorted me to the hotel a dollar. I wanted to give him all of it (sometimes I give charity to my own detriment), but I kept thinking, “I break fast later” and all I had to eat were 2 apples and I want to give those to Hisaan. I thought I might want to buy something later so I kept the three (3).
So, I get to the hotel and a Sister I had just passed in a convenience store was getting in the elevator. I asked her if she was going to the Words and Music thing. She said, “No,” so I went to the hotel concierge. There was a line and one of the counterpersons asked if she could help me.
I told her where I was trying to go. She directed me me to some stairs that would take me to the mezzanine level. Now, deep down I knew that the mezz is like an in-between floors floor, but I can’t get this racism out of my head (and she was Asian!) So, I go check the elevator and cheah, you had to take the stairs. Doh! But still.
I go up the stairs and there’s this devil right there sitting on his suitcase or something, like he was waiting for something or somebody.
We eye each other warily. When I reach the top there’s a covered table with nothing on it, but a hotel memo pad and a pen.
She told me that that was where I was supposed to register, but there was nobody there. And, just the pad and a pen on the table. So, I’m like “Okay….”
Then I look left and see a room with books on tables. And, stuffy. old. devils.
You know that song, “Fly in the buttermilk, shoo fly, shoo” was written for Black people in the predicament I had just walked in.
But, the event was called, “Words and Music” and that’s me to the core, so I didn’t turn tail, which was probably what the two artsy Sisters I had passed on the way there had done.
The devils probably figured I was “new around these parts” and wasn’t scared of devils like the local so-called Negroes. They were right on both counts.
Everytime I’m talking to some Black people, well not every time, but a lot of times, when a devil appears, they run.
Well, my teacher, Allah (God) Taught me to RESIST the devil and HE would flee from me!!!
So, I glanced at the books and took note of the remnants of a meal they had served earlier. I was fasting, so I couldn’t have eaten if I had been there anyway. Not to mention the penalty for eating with Christians.
So, then I entered the main suite. Here, there were preppy college-aged devils intermingling with Frazier and his nursing home homies.
I took a seat but soon noticed that it looked like they had already wrapped. I asked Gidget “Is it over. Am I late?” She replied, “This session. But there’ll be another panel.” So, then I decided I needed an itinerary.
Frazier dug one up and I learned I had crashed some stuck-up literary society’s annual convention and awards gathering.
Nevertheless, I thumbed through the program and discovered the next symposium was entitled:
THE AESTHETICS OF LITERATURE
– The Art Of The Personal Narrative
In other words, MEMOIRS!!!!!
Perfect for my blog!
I was thinking, they can’t teach me anything I don’t already know, but didn’t have anything to do, so I stayed. But to my chagrin, one of the panelists was gay and another a feminist.
I walked out three times before I left for good. I knew everything already but I did learn a few terminologies and was able to use the phone on one of my walkouts to inquire about a place. So, I guess the afternoon wasn’t a total failure.
I might’ve stayed if I didn’t feel like the entire charade was being played out for my benefit – the lone so-called American Negro and a Muslimah! LOL GTFOH
So, on the way “home,” I stopped at Mickey D’s for the dollar menu, which apparently NOLA tourists are too entrenched in money to warrant even an offering and the Filet o’ Fish was $3.67 or some equally exorbitant figure for a McDonalds sandwich.
Zawji told me not to go in at all. #prostitution and I think the Sister at the hotel may have been one too. 😥 😥 😥
I was ready to leave New Orleans by the time I got “home” but the next day, I woke up refreshed like I had inhaled a breath of fresh hot air #FYAH!!!!!
بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
I can’t believe my son is a Teenager!
It seems like only yesterday……….
When he would look up to me and proudly proclaim, “I can touch your shoulder!“
Or when he could finally see his whole face in the bathroom mirror…. 🙂
Or when he would run and hug me tight during a heated game of tag.
*I was “base.” 😉 ❤ ❤ ❤
Or when he would get “lost” looking for the kitchen. SMH
Or his bomb-ass beat box – 2nd only to Buffy RIP 😥 😥 😥
Or that face he would make flipping over his bottom lip that still makes me laugh.
Or that video we made in Leimert of him with Akala in that tree by Crenshaw,
that he wore me out with…….
The way he can find ANYTHING lost or missing ANYWHERE!!!
His expert advice.
The way he saved face when my little Doppel kicked him in his in the roda.
His competitiveness whenever Kirikou showed up. 😉
That frightening vertigo when he and Ameer decided to pick me up!
His Muhammad Ali impersonation.
His company.
His swag.
Reppin’ the Black Nation in front Muslims from “across the water”
His overprotectiveness (“Who dat?”) 😛 #aintnevahbeentoNOLA 😀
His “transitions” that he would have to remove to find something outside, then couldn’t see.
The growth chart on the wall that would surpass me now.
How he made me laugh when still in the womb. 😉
The frequent trips to the emergency room.
The grass stains. #boyz
Capoiera and Drum Lessons
Art Camp and Piano Lessons at The Watts Towers
ASL Lessons and how we could communicate
from long distances without having to yell
Him learning how to write and read Arabic and English at the same time.
Homeschooling
His comic strip whose main character was a Superhero, named “Jamil” #ZAWJI ❤ and whose father and uncle were also Superheroes and the Grandfather.
His puppet shows, made out of socks, but that were so entertaining!!!
His determination to do anything he put his mind to.
His resiliency and ability to adapt to ANY situation.
The way he had all the children at the shelter competing to be KK to his Rodney C…
His fingerprints on the wall…….
I miss you, ابني
The way he reminded me of the time, when I was supposed to be cooking his Dinner LOL #gottaloveit ❤ ❤ ❤
His Science Experiments
His patience and tolerance of my mood swings.
The way he would alert me to the presence of devils (one time in ASL).
How he knew when I was ready to leave just by the sound of my keys.
How he would just say, “That’s my Mama…” whenever I did something crazy.
I love you, ابني
أمي
بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum Dearly Beloved Sisters and Brothers!
New Orleans is outta control. They call it Raw-lins’ And I can bear witness, it gets pretty Raw out here.
Anyway, I left work on Friday. I can’t remember what I did.
Saturday, I made a garment – completely hand sewn, with material donated by The Hyatt Regency, courtesy of a Violet table cloth I happened to pass by.
Look, they built that hotel on my land. Everything in it is mine. They are the ones trespassing.
Anyway. Thanks for the iron, too.
I didn’t go anywhere all day. I’ve been like that out here. I go out on weekdays, but the past few weekends, I’ve stayed “home” all day. Both days. I just don’t feel like going anywhere. But weekdays I’m gone all day. I don’t know why. I just go by what Allah (God) Tells me to do. That’s why they can’t catch me. Unless I let them.
I’ve been eating so good. Zawji is such a good provider. I call him Razzaq, which is Allah’s (God) Attribute of Provider.
St. Somebody or other had their Homecoming Dance at the hotel. And I got so regretful and penitent remembering how my Zawji had begged me to go to his Homecoming, but my parents were so strict you would have thought they were Muslims.
I couldn’t go nowhere in High School. Not Homecoming, night dances, Ultra Wave, parties. NATHAN! They reluctantly let me go to Prom. No fanfare. Now, I wish they hadn’t.
Anyway, why did some little fast ass girl let this little Brother bring her right next to the HONEYCOMB HIDEOUT, AND THEY START JUKIN’!!!!!!!!! #nolaslang
You know me. I do not condone fornication under any circumstances. So, I started making ALL KINDA noise. So, they would know that they were not alone! Why did they keep going?
So, then I said something. TWICE!!! I forgot what I said now, but they KEPT GOING. Lil’ freaks.
So, then I was like, “Next time, make him get you a ROOM!“
She must’ve felt cheap then, because they were gone in ten seconds.
Then later another couple came by – COMPLETELY DIFFERENT than the first. They sounded like me and Zawji. We were married at birth. The Holy Qur-an calls it two parts of the same soul. Nafis in Arabic.
Anyway, it was obvious he respected his wife because he said, “Hello? Hello?” to make sure no one was there. I didn’t say nothing and just let them make love. It was cool too because there was other noise in the hotel and I didn’t even know when they had finished. He sounded like he had some money in his pocket too, or some jewelry or something though.
I ended up crying thinking how different my life would have been…….. 😥 Ididn’tevenask…… 😥 😥 😥
So, every now and again I come across a pair of shoes. They’re always in fairly good condition. But, I love my Chucks. So, I always pass on them. I don’t need more than one pair of shoes.
But there’s been a pair of black sneaks right outside the hotel for at least a week. They might have been there before I went to the hospital. Nobody has taken them. Zawji told me they were for me. And I thought a thousand people probably (wait, I did go somewhere on Saturday. That was the day the Pelicans played the Golden State Warriors. Zawji wanted to go up there, so we went. I found two umbrellas. Kept the best one and tried to sell the other one. But everybody was pissed because Cali came out on top. I should’ve played up the color RED. Everybody had on red last night. They lost anyway. But if you’re gonna lose, at least look good.
Black people look so good in red. Especially our children.
I couldn’t lose because I live in New Orleans, but I’m from California. 😛 I think I was a little bit happier because The WARRIORS WON tho’ AGAIN!!! ❤ ❤ ❤ #worldchamps 😀 😀 #CALIFORNIA ❤
Anyway, I met a Sister and ended up giving her the umbrella.
If anybody knows a Black Dentist in New Orleans, please comment with his/her information. I prefer a female. Thanks!
So anyway, I thought 10,000 people probably passed those sneakers tonight, but ZAWJI KNOWS BEST.
So, no sooner had I put them down in the Hideout than I noticed something jump out. It was a tawny brown and, at first glance, I thought it was a cricket. I’m from L.A. and even those are rare, but it was the first association I had. But, when I looked closer, I saw it was a little frog! With huge black eyes.
I played with it for a minute, then it hopped somewhere close to my stuff and I thought, “I can’t have you hidin’ out somewhere in the hideout.” I didn’t know his name yet. Zawji told me later, it’s Hopper.
So, I ended up putting it in a container and now I have a pet frog. Let me see if I can find a picture on Google. Okay, I can’t find a picture and it’s just as well, because it died last night. I tried to feed it a fruit fly but I couldn’t get it to eat. I should’ve let him go as soon as I thought about it. 😥 RIP Hopper ❤ ❤ ❤
I hate to say it but I learned, while eavesdropping on a devils’ tour of Congo Square, that according to them, Congo Square is where the devils dropped off their slaves while they went cavorting in the French Quarter.
The slaves tell it like they went there voluntarily.
Two sides to every story.
I also hate to say it but I LOVE Jazz musician funerals. Probably because I’ve never known either of them personally. But the MUSIC!
I went to Uncle Smokey’s wake staying outside for the most part because Muslims can get in BIG Trouble for going to a Christian funeral or wedding or even eating and drinking with them.
We are not allowed to socialize with Christians at all. The Holy Qur-an warns us that they will not stop trying to revert us back to their dirty religion importunately and incessantly.
I was able to tell one of Branford’s Doppels to tell Wynton about How To Eat To Live and had a ball singing my heart out to a Brass Band. It was the first time really. I loved it.
I finally admitted this morning that the music of New Orleans is the Dixieland Jazz they play in cartoons all the time. I remember one about a flea circus. But it sounds so much better now! LOL
What do kids know? 😉
If I could convince one of these jazz bands to let me sing with them…. YA’LL JUST DON’T KNOW!!!!!! I would blow your mind! But I have to get approval from the King first. I was BORN to do this. Well, I enjoy it immensely. 😀
I was born to teach the good news to my Brothers and Sisters who have never heard it. And pray Allah opens their eyes, ears and hearts.
TO BE CONTINUED
بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
In the Name of Allah, The Beneficent, The Most Merciful
And (We sent) Lot, when he said to his people: Surely you are guilty of an abomination which none of the nations has done before you.
(HOLY QUR-AN 29:28)
Homosexuality originated with the people of Prophet Lut (Lot) – Sodom and Gomorrah.
They were completely destroyed for their wickedness.
The United States of America is far worse than the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah because they could only practice this evil. They did not have the scientific capabilities of turning a man into a “woman,” and vice versa that America has.
Is not America deserving of a fate worse than that which befell the people of Sodom and Gomorrah???
READ MESSAGE TO THE BLACKMAN IN AMERICA.
YOU CAN READ IT FOR FREE BY CLICKING ON THE BOOKCOVER BELOW.
CRICKETS
WAVES
VIOLINS
And the low murmur of a steamboat…..
I just can’t bring myself to walk away…
The full moon begs me to stay…
Solitude, coupled with your willingness to abide by whatever I say…
Makes me contemplate…
The Sunrise Over The MISSISSIPPI…
River Rats
Discover my presence
And Leave Me Be….
The crowds have long since dispersed,
After noting and appreciating my fine taste in music…
Drawn by the Lure of The Brass Band,
I find myself at the shore –
Celebrating our Anniversary….
Two months
Feel like
Two weeks
In
This
Matrix.
The Stars vie for notoriety,
Here among the moon and the reflection of lights on the water…
All I can see is your handsome face,
Moving in with the current,
In time with the harp,
The cymbals,
And the bells….
A tugboat hauls a tanker,
I watch it roll out again,
As another rolls in,
waves……. waves…… waves…… waves…… waves……
For days…….
Two-legged River rats
Come and go,
Disturbing my Peace….
….Think I’ll Come Back……
Sooner next time………
Happy Anniversary, Zawji ❤ ❤ ❤
This was one of the most memorable nights of my life.
I LOVE YOU FOREVER! ❤ ❤ ❤
As-Salaamu ‘Alaikum Beautiful and Beloved Asiatic Black Sisters & Brothers
I know it’s been a minute since I’ve “checked in,” but I learnt from Edward Kennedy “Duke” Ellington, that it’s okay to take some time and gather your thoughts before writing about something.
However, before I get to my latest escapades…
*Somebody little, one of my children, no doubt, thought she was saying “Ice Capades” 😉 LOL*
I wanna share with you a tip I discovered while hand sewing this garment. (No machine 😦 but you Can’t Stop My Go!)
Instead of making a knot at the end of the thread before you start stitching; make the knot after you make your first insertion. I learned how to finish a stitch from this video. You can do the same thing in the beginning.
Just insert your needle twice and make the loop, pull the thread through a couple of times and then the needle. Then you can go on and sew without having to worry about tying a knot in the beginning.
Okay, now that I’ve stalled, let me tell you about my big faux pas.
(In NOLA, you have to speak a little French 😉 )
You know, my Zawji and I were supposed to get married on his birthday (the 22nd). I told you I’m still practicing, but that doesn’t explain my hiatus. Well, three days before the wedding, I got an extreme case of cold feet. And, I deliberately got busted shoplifting. The Security Guard was just as cool as the devil manager was evil. He gave me so many opportunities to retain my freedom. Some Black cops and Sheriffs seem to be acutely aware of the PTSD Black people like me suffer from.
But all I could think about was a shower. I knew I didn’t want to go back to jail, because I would’ve had to remove my headpiece, AND I would’ve been out in two days and like I wrote previously, cold feet… So, I acted crazy enough to get committed to the psych ward.
It was new because I’ve been to jail. And, I’ve been to the psych ward. I’ve even been to the psych ward in jail, but I’d never been to jail in the psych ward (hospital).
Zawji tried so hard to get me out in time for the wedding. But, I wouldn’t let him. I got caught up in getting married and completely forgot that I was supposed to be his birthday present. 😥
But Allah is The Best Knower and The Best Planner and
EVERYTHING HAPPENS FOR A REASON.
While in the hospital I had an epiphany. Rather, a recollection of something I had completely forgotten. I went on a date with a Brother when my husband was away!
I know right? Me? Never woulda thunk.
But, he shipped out right after we got married and I had just learnt I was pregnant, but I was still partying and carrying on like a single woman.
In fact, the only reason I STOPPED partying is because this Brother –
at a party – told me (six-months pregnant by then ),
“If you were my woman, I would beat your ass.“
*Thank-you Brother, by the way. If more Black men would take control of their women, we wouldn’t be in such a bad condition – AS A NATION.
So, anyway, in the hospital, in which I had a beautiful view of Canal Street overlooking a luscious waterfall fountain. This was, by far, the nicest psych emergency room I’ve ever visited. It’s so crazy because everything in NOLA is either BRAND NEW or completely dilapidated and in a state of disrepair due to Hurricane Katrina. It’s like living in a bi-polar city; TWO EXTREMES.
I got a good taste of it last night. I felt like getting out. The plan was to go to Tremé to visit Hisaan – Damisha’s Baby Daddy. Yes Gir, I have to put you on blast for trying to pass that horsebaby off as my Zawji’s. We both know your Baby Daddy is a horse. And yes, Black people, bestiality and grafting is alive and well in America. Damisha’s horsebaby is proof.
I seriously hope you were artificially inseminated. Although, J’me told me she saw a video of a woman having sex with a horse at Ice T’s club.
Anyway, I came up on somebody’s lunch the other day at the Greyhound station (Thanks Zawji! 😉 ❤ ) and it was full of apples. So, I was on my way to give him one and I stopped to take a rest and he “told” me to eat it.
So, afterwards, I was gonna go anyway, with just me, but I thought he might be sleeping, so I stopped in “The Lion’s Den” and listened to this broadcast of a live show and the Brass Band had me open deep and wide! I tried to go catch the show, but couldn’t find it. Ended up in The French Quarter and then at the banks of the Mississippi, once again.
I’ve been in NOLA nearly two months and I’m still seeing new sights!!! I don’t see how anybody can view one week as long enough to take a holiday. True, we did see alot on our family trip to Hawaii, but I think that’s just because my parents gave me and my Sister liberty to roam the city one afternoon and if we didn’t find a party! #onlyme
But anyway, this time I took the Riverwalk and if that shit wasn’t the most romantic thing (2nd) I’ve ever experienced in my whole life. I took it to the end/beginning of Canal Street and the chasm between the haves and the have-nots there is strikingly palpable.
I almost fell on my knees in succor to my Brothers and Sisters, beseeching them to unite and open a hotel. If we would boycott ONE DAY, we would shut this city down.
We are too complacent – too satisfied with crumbs. I’m convinced every devil visiting this city is a billionaire. The hotels, restaurants, bars, stores, etc. are too nice. One hotel has four lanes for Valet parking!!! It looks like fucking LAX!!! But instead of uniting and trying to get some of that Cream at the top,
We’re content with the Crumbs that fall off the table to the floor. Even raising the minimum wage to $15/hour is horseshit compared to the wealth I saw last night.
But anyway, back to the hospital. I stayed until they let me go. They didn’t want to, but I wouldn’t cooperate. It was nice, much nicer than any of my reses in NOLA, but ever since I heard a Brother say that anywhere you can’t walk down the street is jail, I’ve never been content to stay in any psych ward longer than necessary. I don’t care how nice it is.
It was after Zawji’s big day, but I remembered going on that date. I know it was after I was married because I ordered three hot dogs, rather, I had the Brother buy me three hot dogs. So I know I had to have been preggers. I would not have eaten that much if I wasn’t. I feel horrible.
I swear I have split personalities. I know I wasn’t showing at the time and the poor Brother didn’t find out I was pregnant until months later, when I saw him at the Fox Hills Mall.
Anyway, that little detail from my past has been buried for over 24 years only to be uncovered right before I was scheduled to be married again. All things work for good for them who love the Lord. So, it’s all good. It helped me realize I need to rework my plan for staying committed. All Praise is Due to Allah.
I’m so sorry, Beloved Honey-Sweet Zawji. Your birthday comes only once a year. We can wait or we can do like our poor foreparents, who had no knowledge of the date and just say we did it on your birthday. Whichever pleases you, My King. I submit. This is the last issue I had to overcome. It’s smooth sailing from here.
❤ ❤ ❤ ❤
I LOVE YOU!
Nomorerunnin’………
Homemaking For The Black Muslim Woman Journal ™ 