Man, a Rasta
Screw them Babylon
No more bondage
I and I guidance
Zion my portion
Selassie my saint
Roots my culture
One love my anthem
JAH RASTAFARI
Surviving_Pawn
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!
A policeman named Abele Bibka
Never ran marathons in Korea
Won Olympics in Rome
Took a gold medal home
His country then named, Abyssinia
________________________________
You can't make up a name like this...
Abele was in the military guard of
then-Emperor Hailie Selassie. He
won the gold medal in 1960, back
when most Olympic athletes were
true amateurs, training in their
'spare time.'... Do you know what
Abele's country's name is today?!
I’m real, I keep it real
I don’t sugar coat nothing, I keep it real
Conscious Rasta up in here, you know the deal
Keep it real, or keep it moving
Making real lyrics, as I need improving
Selassie I kept it real
Made Ethiopia solid like iron steel
People say they have a tight circle
But me I have a triangle
If you’re lucky a square, 4-man team
Certified dreams, wanna get the cream
Be careful a lot of people out here trying to scheme
If I was born in the 60’s, I would have rolled with the black panthers
Humble servants in their communities, would have showed me the right answers
When you’re at the bottom of volcano, they see you burn
But when you’re at the top of the mountain, then the tables turn
They don’t want to see a Rasta trod and prosper
But I’m a conquer like the lion of Judah
They don’t like me because I tell the truth
My poetry is so conscious, I want to uplift the youths
I’ve always been real and that’s a fact
I can’t be fake; I feel that’s an act
So keep it simple, be honest and keep it real
Yeah yeah that’s the real deal.
Traces of Haile Selassie ‘I’
The Lion still roars
Traces of Martin Luther King
dream lives on
Traces of Bob Marley
In song “get up stand up for your rights”
Traces of Malcolm X
Segregation fight still burns bright
Traces of Mandela's
Fight for justice set free
Traces of Marcus Garvey
Purpose and His-story
My people realign and trace
History of their victories
On the walls of the Pyramids and sand
Inscribe with Sculpt object in hand
It is said “there is no future without history”
Revelation given by our ancestries
Traces from ancient of times
Activating inquiring minds…
©Copyright Brian Pierre-Alexander -Sept. 2011
© All Rights Reserved
The wave of poverty
The wave of ye illness,
Them try to stop thyself
To limit your highness.
QUEEN AFRICA!
Queen of Selassie
Womb of Mandela.
Throw your core anchor,
Bring thyself,ye hefty vigor.
Poverty trying to make you sail backward,
To retard your growth
Make your children awkward.
Wave of death trying
To steal your blessing,
O AFRICA!, throw your core anchor
And stop that aggressing.
EXODUS AFRICA!
Ye children unite to make you so strong
Ye children unite to make you proud,
Them sing ye liberty,very loud and aloud.
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