by Raymond Nat Turner
Make me do it, one Hellfire Missile each—
They’ll all be in a better place: with you
Lord, make me do it! Make me do it!
Make me do it…
by Raymond Nat Turner
“Precious Lord, take my hand/ Lead me on, let me stand …”
God is a person with a logo and $500 an hr lawyers
He knows waterboarding is why the caged bird sings &
Without its CPUSA punch line, the FDR and A. Phillip
Randolph anecdote is a fractured fairytale, pathetic parody:
Take my hand and make my palm turn upward facing the
Heavens taking fresh faces of Franklin from holy bundlers,
Banksters, Wall Street Warlords, armament manufacturers,
Drug and insurance charlatans and high priests of fossil fuel,
Make me a warlock, make me meet every Tuesday—take my
Left hand, lord, make me pick up my black lacquered, gold-
Trimmed Montblanc and signoff on another careful signature Strike…
There’s an Afghan grandmother tending
Her small garden plot and teaching her
Grandson how to pick ripened okra,
In Pakistan there’s a young man ordering
At an outdoor café and oh, yes, Yemen, yes
There’s also Somali fishermen fighting
Progress, precious lord, take my hand and
Make me do it, one Hellfire Missile each—
They’ll all be in a better place: with you
Lord, make me do it! Make me do it!
Confederate flags and swastikas fluttering
In Ukraine winds of change we can believe
In make me signoff on spare change for regime
Change; I’m feeling like Teddy, now: “Oh-oh,
Ooo-ooo, ah-ah, Oh-oh, I like the way you make me feel!”
Make me destabilize Venezuela, yes, lord, make me do it!
Make me keep Gitmo open 8 years after I promised
Its closure; Make me go after Snowden, Manning,
Assange and put a $2 million reward on the terror
Threat sitting off our shore for forty years In Cuba;
Make me ignore Abu Jamal, Peltier, Shoatz and other
Old outlaws who had their days in court— in a post-
Racial age there’s no place for divisive old ideas like theirs;
Yes, lord, make me do it! Make me do it! Make me do it!
Yes, lord, make me sing like Al Green, make me fool
Stupid Negroz again, like goober dus’, black cat dander,
Slick Willy’s shades and saxophone did, make me make
Them think voting for me is the most important thing ever
For their freedom, more important than the Abolitionist Movement,
Anti-lynching movement, the BPP, SNCC,
CORE, NAACP, the Watts, Detroit, Newark rebellions,
Nat Turner’s Rebellion, John Brown’s Raid on Harpers
Ferry and the Civil War combined; more important than
That nappy-headed foolishness of Paul Robeson, Malcolm
X and moron Robert Williams; make me make them think
Happy-dancing on ice for me was making history, more
Important than the Civil Rights, Black Power, Anti-War,
American Indian and Women’s Movements combined;
Make me make them like me, follow me on Facebook and
Stare catatonically at my tweets; make me make them watch
Me work crowds on Youtube, giving my NAS commencement
Speech at Morehouse, my annual Fathers Day NAS speeches to
Poor Black men; make me make scholars act like soft head
Simpletons; make me make them swear that Dr. King would’ve
Been about Africom and boots on the ground and— Nobel Prize
Aside, would’ve have shot Bin Laden himself had he, King, lived!
Make me say “Drill, baby, drill!” a thousand times and forgive BP
For blowing up the Macondo well killing 11 workers, tens of
Millions of mussels, shrimp and crabs, forgive them for with legions of
Lawyers, scientists, public relations experts they know not what they do;
make me speak of clean coal with a straight face
And nukes in the face of Fukishima; Yes, lord, make me do it!
Make Me do it! Make me do it! Make me do it! Make me do it!
Make me crush Occupy like cockroaches under my combat boots,
Make me get with Simpson and go after Social Security, Medicare,
Medicaid; make me listen in on phone calls, monitor keystrokes,
Watch tweets, posts, pokes, blogs, bank, medical and library
Records— make me make the 1st and 4th Amendments illusions
Like objects in David Copperfield magic shows; Make me do it!
Make me do it! Make me do it! Make me do it! Make me do it!
Raymond Nat Turner can be contacted at upsurgejazz.com.
Raymond Nat Turner © 2014 All Rights Reserved
Just like we glorified the black leather jackets, black berets, and guns in the 60s, we still romanticize African people with guns and mouths that fire more inaccurately than the guns they carry.
The martyred revolutionary’s assassination has finally been acknowledged by the Guyana state, and his works will become part of the educational curriculum.
To break cyclical, systemic oppression requires a functionality that rejects reified notions of governance, global capitalism, and accommodation.
Jazzman William Parker’s work is a bold art of resistance to capitalism, colonialism, racism, and the runaway train that is our present-day America.
Ruth Maclean’s article, like countless others in Western media, took place in an Africa without leaders, without public health officials or activists.
