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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required My days in the streets of despair took me from scanty shanties Intermittent through dreams drinking the syllables of books Cast before my eyes, I was at the bottom of nooks and crannies Hiding in barren valleys of bushes, and sometimes cast hooks Angling the sea for food that did not feed brain alone. T’was then Eagled in the sky I saw you like a speck of dew swelling up Latent opportunities kept before my race as pittance in a cup. Nobody knows the darkness behind the iron gate of hopelessness Omitting light except to the paler color and privileged ten percent Registered in the status quo as rich, despair was a sweet callousness Meandering the streets at the edge of destructive explosion, pent Anger muted by the false theories of our worthlessness. We let it Nurture rebellion in rock steady songs, and battled on playfields over it. Michael Manley meant more than a man, or regular politician Anthem in my thoughts, a new hawk against the glitter of crown Nurturing the trodden down with wand of words, a magician Letting us believe in the self like an abeng picked from the ground Entering the new day I campaigned alone to bring it to pass Yielding nothing in the struggle to the old power of caste and class. Intelligent, gifted orator, compassionate servant moved by solemn creed None is left like you since death fragrant you with our native weed. Men do not write their history alone without lead from God’s intention Ending the culture of disbelief democracy had its breathless chance Ministering to the hovels of colonial cast offs, I saw the raw fission Orchestrating the destiny of the past, your tongue was a glinting lance Reneging laws of understanding where some were too comfortable Interestingly filling the place of the great house lord, and regrettable Another excess of the left, disbanding Africa for blind white theories Meaningless to our negritude, still you linger in fireside love and sweet stories.
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