The Last Poets
“When the revolution comes,”
Politicians whispered sweet lies,
promising dreams that were never theirs,
while streets echoed with dreams denied,
and voices drowned in blood-stained hope.
Economies built on the backs of the weak,
wealth for the few, while many stayed silent,
coins of gold pooled, but hearts went cold,
hands reached out but never united.
The Last Poets rhymes like Hymns
echoing in alleys,
fingers snap,
feet tap,
words meet the pulse,
the Congo thump lifts hearts,
raw and real,
hip-hop’s roots grow deep—
But what has changed,
in this swirling maze?
Do we still speak the truth,
shout over sirens,
dream beyond the neon flash,
with wide eyes,
still fighting, still asking,
for justice in our sound,
each voice a note,
every story a song?
The wave of Democrat Socialism
Sweeping America today
Is no different than China’s Cultural Revolution
The DSA want to abolish (not reform)
Police, prisons, borders, the Senate,
The presidency, and Supreme Court
Because they are all remnants of an old order.
So just like the Red Guard youth
They seek to destroy “The Four Olds”
To usher in a New Wave of chaos
A tsunami of Hope and Change
To make way for the shining Utopia
That will of course naturally arise.
It didn’t work in China,
But that’s just because they didn’t do it right…
Get ready America,
Here comes some righteous change.
Don’t hold your breath, just hunker down,
Pull your family close
And keep your powder dry.
(8/8/26)
There was a woman, singing a sore song.
Soft savoury salvation in her tongue :
"Freedom for some, leave the others to rot,
A heron sent flying, and magpie sought."
There was a woman, with birds in her mouth,
Tweeting twinkling tunes, headed to the south.
Those folk listen, take word for opinion-
"All are built to solve the equation!"
There was a woman,- that's not right at all!
There is string and sticks attached round back,
And, there, a speaking gull stands oh so tall!
He squawks out loud talks, to impress the hawks,
And faced with words, prepares his attack.
Through his puppet's lips, holding her pitch forks.
I have a right to dance.
In my elder years, all sound has faded.
The once pure melodies are now atonal.
But kicking up a storm,
dancing is a revolutionary act.
I have a right to dance.
I awaken to a chorus of chanters,
I awaken to the legends and lore.
Part dream, part audio reception.
Part past life, part immaculate conception.
Part laugh, part delirious deception.
I am connected, I am comforted,
I am confronted, I am contorted
by forces ever so much larger,
by senses ever so much stronger.
I have a right to dance,
a right to prance in the human parade.
Like ants, my cells are self-organizing.
Like trees, my rings archive my story.
I smell and taste the music I recall.
I savor the instinctual harmonies,
the behavior of rhapsodies.
I deliver the symbolic pirouettes,
the mimetic genuflect.
All motion becomes a spectacle.
All movements shape a carnival.
With my body, I advance,
moods and dreamscapes, I enhance,
lost and forgotten in the endless expanse.
I have a right to dance!
Did the Yankees win?
Without sin
Challenging monarchy rule
Characterizing King as a fool
Escaping angry courts
Exploring adventurous ports
They came to a new world
Searching for patriotic pearls
Combatting rag tag war
Against red coated boars
Who thought they knew best
Putting rebellious subjects under arrest
Charging them for throwing tea
Into the Boston Harbor Sea
Defined as freedom of speech
Protest reached
Many others
American brothers
Wanting representation when taxed
Stating facts
Until the royals surrendered
Historians remember
Farewell to any and all privacy
Greetings to hordes of old friends
knocking at my door
Overnight, a revolution of expectations
Most bound to go unrealized
Never knowing whether to sigh or outright cry
For I’ve just won the Lottery
UP, The Revolution
Norway is a fascist state run by an elite
throws coins at people, keeping them calm
and access to the easy housing ladder.
It is the same people, whether to the left
or the right that runs through Norway, appointing
themselves lucrative ambassadorship say
In Sweden, we know how that ended
And there is the man Jageland, who has been
around since my time, still finding
There was a time when the merchant navy was
important, a seaman had to stay on his ship
for 1,5 years to get a free ticket home, late
Reduced to one year of sailing time
For many seamen, it became too much, with
divorce and psychological issues, and many drowned
in the restless sea of alcoholism
The survivors of this injustice get paid a miserly
low pension, they even have to pay tax while
The elite pay themselves millions
With the death of the famous pedophile, it
It's all coming too late, telling us Norway needs
a social revolution to bring justice
Iran is being slaughtered whole
Where’s your compassion, Paly fans?
How come no voices, not a soul
Spoke up? You must have other plans
No Jews involved, and silence reigns
Name me the cat that got your tongue
The Hollywood of scatterbrains
Is hushed, both elder and the young
Killed in the streets, throats cut, envenomed
Shot point blank in clinics' beds
Vile ayatollahs, full of venom
Prepared to rip own folks to shreds
Do you all march when monies flowing
Qatar pays down your protests?
The murders in Iran ongoing
Few spoken words in worldwide press
Appalled, disturbed, upset and saddened
I cannot keep my mouth shut
And by indifference I’m maddened
Time to remove the Tehran nut
February 3, 2026
January 13, 2026: 'Help is on the way,' Donald Trump says as he urges Iranians to 'keep protesting'
January 30, 2026: Reuters: Thousands detained in Iran as part of large-scale preemptive arrest operation. IRGC personnel and plainclothes intelligence agents are raiding homes across the country and transferring those detained to secret prison facilities in order to prevent any attempts to restart the protests.
Betray me once, deceive me twice
Forsake Ukraine, Iran - on ice
When you are Trump, your honor's dreck
You give your word to take it back
The world is burning
We all look on
Some fan the flames
and some are playing games
People's lives are worth less than cattle
They shake, they stomp, they rattle the cage
Where within they've placed
His, her, and your name
They take their guns and wave them in your face
Not one, not two, but Eight!
Take their place
Performing a ritual in the public face
In private, who knows-
We ALL know
What happens to those of another race
Can't you see?
The flag of the land of the free is burning
Is the page finally turning?
What does it mean to you?
When your own sasafr *ss is on the line,
the hope you had diminishes.
A Proud Boy is in your face
& has the final authority
A bad son shall end the likes of you.
With immunity he sheds blood
Crimson tidal waves of civil upheavals — never forget,
today's puff, may be your last cigarette.
An alien to you, to me you were sanctuary,
a perishing human am I, violently
I belonged, just like anyone.
When the mask fell from The Beast,
The people jeered with glee.
When it stumbled from its throne,
They rejoiced for they were free.
They turned to celebration,
They drank and they did feast,
Whilst men crept from the shadows,
Placed a new mask on The Beast.
They lifted it out from the dirt,
Stood it up onto its feet,
Dusted down its filthy robe,
Sat it back upon its seat.
And when the people turned to see,
The Beast now fresh and strange,
They buried it in tribute,
For they thought The Beast brought change.
Stop the murders, end the blood
Not disturbance, it's a flood
Arm the people, freedom calls
Folks of Persia got the balls
Hey, mass media, stop the lies
Ayatollahs, be demised
Run to Russia while you can
Had enough of vicious clan
Freedom, freedom to Iran
Revolution has begun
Promised help is for the birds
Act U.S., no time for words
January 11, 2026
Remember when first you flashed your eyes
the centre opened, lips quivering in recognition
sitting at table, water in glass reflected apples
you glanced at my pen, match burnt the paper
The centre opened, lips quivering in recognition
a seed germinated with breezes quickening
you glanced at my pen, match burnt the paper
skin flakes fell away, softly I touched a second
A seed germinated with breezes quickening
I saw your instant power and you were gone
skin flakes fell away, softly I touched a second
was perhaps a rescue a capture of anemones
What awaited me on Platform Twenty Four ?
decades separated remembered images
of a presence at the back of a Revolution
luggage delayed, the usual chaos of change
Everybody waiting for somebody
sitting at table, water in glass reflected apples
of a presence at the back of a Revolution
Remember when first you flashed your eyes
—————————————-___________{}{}{}
Anger, the emotion of the unheard,
When words won't work, it speaks through hurt
Peace was never an option - when the hate you give continues to burn
When the hands you touch, turns to ashes
Anger becomes validation, for when comfort is a luxury not afforded
Outcasted, into the shadows, our pain overlooked
Anger, an echo of ancestral hurt,
Of justice unserved -
The rights of black people, constantly burned
This the reason why peace can no longer be an option
Anger is our self-made reparations
We decide how we recover,
We decide how to heal
We decide our emotions
Dictation is the tool of the weak, abused by our oppressors
We feel what we feel due to their racism
The way we deal, was never our fault
It was the world that forced us into survival
Our healing will be their downfall
Anger is one of our greatest weapons
It is the fuel for every revolution,
This is what gives every movement energy
It travels in our blood, in each blood vessel
Anger is necessary to our survival -
Because to be a conscious black person, is to live in a constant state of anger
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