Peace be with all for Muslims in the world. |
This poem was written by my wonderful and caring mother- Christie Kahil. It is in response to a 1930s Porky Pig cartoon. Listen to my mother's message. Spread these words. Peace is upon us, it's just time to listen. Christie Kahil In Response to Porky Pig you want to talk desert sands and oil wells sing songs of whirling dervishes and save somebody’s baby from my rabid mad scimitar do you even know what a dervish is? how ‘bout a scimitar? you think I got one hangin’ on my wall at home right next to the blasting caps and C-4? let’s talk hard concrete and hot asphalt hard and hot like your eyes watchin’ me from the corner flashing white as they jerk away then comin’ back to check, you don’t really expect, but they tell you to be suspicious to report things different I’m not different until you make me different in your head and see desert under my feet instead of this street I’m walkin’ on your street a street I’m invading with my presence with my dark skin and kufia and feet in sandals you shrink a little when I walk up I’m dangerous explosive like Acme dynamite in the hands of Wylie E. Coyote I see you lookin’ at my chest as if you could spot the bulge of a suicide vest but there’s nothing because I’m just standing here on this street corner, waiting for the light to change and we’ll walk across this street together like two people livin’ in the same city together and I’ll go my way and you’ll go yours and we’ll never touch again east is east and all that shit. I wish does it matter what I wish? I wish you heard the music in the muezzins’ call and felt the spirit of God when you heard me speak “Allahu Akbar” instead of the whine of hate and a plane exploding into the side of a tower I’d hold out my hand if you would take it I’d invite you over to my house and feed you cucumbers from my garden and spicy kafta with Labneh I’d teach you how to drink our coffee and tell your fortune in the grounds we could pray together facing Mecca the name of God the same on our lips no matter what language we speak I wish but it doesn’t matter what I wish because we’ve crossed the street now and you’ve turned away tonight you’ll think of me tonight when the news is on and they show my kind with blood running down and list the day’s toll of death shudder maybe and count yourself lucky that you live here where streets don’t explode and you can walk across the street alive even beside a terrorist that’s what I am now a source of terror for you even sitting here in my garden of cucumbers and parsley a terrorist even standing before God Allahu Akbar God is great Subhaana rabbiyal 'Alaa Glory to my Lord, the Most High prostrate before God a terrorist you walk away down the street, but I can’t walk away from my skin my name my God I can only hold out my hand As Salaamu 'alaikum wa rahmatulaah Peace and blessings of God be upon you |