Best Garvey Poems
His students proud to so declare
He is a Chef Extraordinaire
Keeping love for evermore
His late wife, sweet Lenore
From his mountain he looks out
Finding inspiration all about
Writing words from living life
His past, his share of human strife
He writes with such emotion deep
Poetry that often makes me weep
He hasn't written much of late
Ill health has been his recent fate.
But, thanks to God he's on the mend
My best wishes I daily send
For all my life, my dearest friend
HG, my love to you I send...
There once was a Santa from Nome.
From house to house he did roam,
When done he stopped for a beer
And some friendly Holiday cheer.
Alas…… he couldn’t find his way home.
thank you Carolyn..lets see what the chef can come up with...
Walk here with me
Along a strand of island in the sea
Let your heart drink like a leaf
From this mighty river
That shaped the world's relief
Listen to his name
Hear echoes of white colonial history
The burden of shame
Edging the teeth of fame
Chew it down to the middle bone
Feel the tension rise it
Like pimento fragrance preserving the night
Of Egyptian slime pits
And the prince denouncing privilege and place
Not so, not so here
For him who took up the cudgel of our race
The farmers boy
Built brick by brick from a builder's dream
This native scion ... out of the Maroon's citadel
This bewitching monument of St. Ann.
Ah Booker did you know
A man with bigger head for a mightier dream
From Panama to Ecuador
From Costa Rica to Brazil
Did your heart like a drum pound
Boom, boom, baba boom
When he clenched the lock of Africa's door
When every pulpit in the street
Became a university of our history
And freedom in every African child
Was Marcus Mosiah Garvey
Booker, did you see his kingdom
His black institutions
Like a galaxy dreamers could touch
His ships
On which the brothermen still wait
Like an armada sailing
From rubber baron shores
To pyramid pinnacle
They were his Icarus
And he our Daedalus
That could not shake the minotaur
But, Booker, did he not say
To look for him in the wind
So now you know why I never sleep again
His footprints are still here
Clear as the foment of nineteen thirty eight
This is where he carved his name
Not just on the printers page
But on the honor of all the age
Making us dream of civil rights
And human rights
And Rastafarian flight
And reparation for our plight
And above all he taught me
A little black face lover of his fight
Never to bow
My mind to the whore's tradition
Never to yield my soul
For I am a nobler structure that my rank here
I am the prince they striped bare
The Moses that have not see my red sea yet
The child still
Enthralled with the splendor of every sunset
Marcus Mosiah Garvey arose from a little town, yes my lord
A Leo lifting Harlem, kingdom bound, yes my lord
Resuscitated religion around the black man’s looks, yes my lord
Cuddling pickaxe, hoe, and cradling books, yes my lord
Umpire of Freedom from home to foreign land, yes my lord
Seeker of justice from Costa Rica, Nicaragua to Panama, man, yes, yes my lord
Master of the African destiny, this man could dream, yes my lord
Overtures of empire, black starliner on the Atlantic stream, yes my lord
Sentinel and soldier, O Booker T’s light giver, yes my lord
Itinerant leader from island to continents, the diviner, yes my lord
Athletic word maker speaking truth to power, yes O my lord
Sequester again the UNIA at this defining hour, yes my lord.
Greatness is sometimes attributed, sometimes achieved, yes my lord
Africa’s proud son, both in you we believed, yes my lord
Regal was the call you made: “Up you mighty race!” yes my lord
Venerable the acts you did standing to the governor’s face, yes my lord
Earth has no better soul, or Jamaica another child, yes O my lord
Yielding everything to heal the lambs defiled, yes, yes my lord
How shall we see again the great black visions of grandeur, yes my lord
Evoking in cultureless voids Africa’s splendor, yes my lord
Royalty reduced to slavery would not crawl the dust, yes my lord
Once liberated minds can fly where only eagles lust, yes my lord
We heap up your tributes now that your dead, yes my lord
England’s queen can sleep without a dungeon for her bed, yes my lord
Men who dream are imprisoned to bury their dreams, yes my lord
Instead those dreams prove finite walls too poor, yes my lord
Superior imagination to tame, and brighter still gleams, yes my lord
So when the wind blows look for him at the door, yes my lord
Yapping Hoover at his heels lied on him to stall him, yes my lord
Over in Jamaica, he broke the walls of prison grim, yes my lord
Uncle Marcus, great hero, O how we miss him, yes, yes O my lord
It seems you were gone for ever so long,
Your soup friends were all feeling blue.
We missed your wonderful heartfelt writes,
And were eager to share a laugh with you too.
Crashing computers are so terribly frustrating,
When there are words thatyou just must share,
I suppose you could always use paper and pen,
Just keep posting, and know how much we care.
She is known as Honorable Queen Mother Nanny. The lady was so sweet as sugar candy.
Enhancing the fight, smiling with much delight, knowing her cause was right.
She was the awesomely true Westward Maroon liberation queen in the highest esteem.
Hailing from Ghana's Gold Coast as an Ashanti or Akan—"A free woman!"
His Excellency the Right Honorable Marcus Mosiah Garvey Jr. "Visionary Diasporan."
Founder, Universal ***** Improvement Association and African Communities League.
Created the Black Star Liner, forging the link between African and North America
Desiring to take his people back to their ancestral African roots, starting with Liberia.
The heroic grandfather, The Honorable Paul Bogle, says, "No taxation without representation!"
National Jamaican hero, Stony Gut Baptist Church deacon, and Morant Bay "Victor!"
Usually referred to as a "Shaka Zulu Pickney," an ancestral famed freedom fighter.
Proverbial singer Bob Marley uplifts his grace in the song "So Much Things to Say."
Faces printed on currency show the value of national and cultural pride—"None to hide!"
Standing on many shoulders, such strengthening standard-bearers, faithfully abiding!
© His Excellency, Professor, Ambassador, Dr. Joseph S. Spence, Sr (Epulaeryu Master)!