|
|
Rasta Chant
How dare you spit upon his garb!
This peaceful bredda who by nature only loves,
When you should have been his Rasta queen
Your ghastly behaviour drew a scene
And I- woman just like you
Hang my head in shame
As you defile our name.
Selassie-I know seh di Rasta man took a deep breath
To honour his philosophy,
But like a lamb to the slaughter,
he was reduced
In front of the whole community.
He sought calm in his Rasta chant
Swallowed his pride,
Turned the next cheek, and with human dignity.
Yet that pouncing Jezebel
Delilah,
Demon picknie,
Shameless femininity
Minimized her king,
Cared nothing that he is masculine.
She is no empress
and certainly not a Ital-dawtah!
She mocked and cursed him
Bullied him and sullied his character.
Vilified him as the on-lookers magnified
Scorned, mistreated and humiliated.
But when upon each other their backs were turned
The fury in the lion roared
And in that moment, he went against his Rasta chant
And knocked her out flat on her face.
I won’t apologize for feeling appeased
For you are a disgrace to the female race!
Copyright ©
Marguerite C. Anderson
|
|