This is my fourth piece in my Dramatic Poetry pieces with various Characters issuing their own social commentary on the world and country we live in. This one however has a Caribbean point of view to it in 'lingo' and in view. I've written this in the vernacular(as true as it is in in my own Caribbean ear!) of the broken English 'patois' or Dialect, endemic to many Anglophone, former British Colonies in the West Indies or the Caribbean. One of the more famous of these places is Jamaica . . . so think of the accent and intonations when you are reading this. Now here we have . . .
In the darkness, we hear the sounds of the sea; waves breaking, sea birdcalls . . . the whole nine. The Bob Marley song,“Redemption Song” fades in from the other noises to a clear, persistent level. The stage lights up to reveal a backdrop of Times Square.
Sitting under a replicated Cohan Statue is a Rastafarian, in his thirties. He is dressed in the usual red, gold and green parade of colors.
The music begins to fade leaving only the Sounds of the Sea.
As the music dies out he gets up and addresses the audience . . .
RASTA
‘Hole heap a t’ings a gwan inna dis place.
‘Hole heap a t’ings a gwan inna dis place
When me fus’ come up ya
‘America ha de bes’ ‘roun’ ya’
A de song that a cruise through mymind
An as me deh a touch down a Kennedy
De beauty of a betta life that Dem promise me
Tun me blind.
Me bigges’ ambition,
Was immediate consumption,
Of an American tradition . . .
That has meant big time stagnation
For a whole nation . . .!
A nation of lost princes, queens an’ kings
Who slave away los’ inna de oily fog from fries an’ onion rings,
Deep inna de dungeon
Of a great demon,
Who have red Jerry Curl an’ an ash-white face.
Jus’ like him cousin who neagah min’ love fe waste
You body feel ‘tight’ ‘cause a how ‘nice’de poison taste
But wait . . . come me slow dung me pace
A wha’ me say? Dem a cousin!
You a deal wit Sam an’ the man withde gol’ horseshoe an’ dem
You cyan rise above, en’ up wit’nutt’n
De exploitation uno bear mus tun’brain inna mutton!
You work harder than de man an dem downtown inna Versace suit
Fe real man you deserve more, a nu trut’!?
‘Cause fu donkey years uno stay like staple in a tear-up paper economic system
Uno give yu life, freedom, embrace death fu supplicate Dem
An’ serve them like a beast of burden
Inna dem bloodthirsty journey fu’nyam de fruit that make one be deemed ‘modern.’
Fu’ that them a mock Jah up inna heaven
An’ a heng off me brethren . . .
Put de Arawak to death inna group a thirteen
To honor Jesus an him’ twelve disciple
As them stay deh a loot for them so called God-chosen Queen.
See what ah mean?
Dem a mock Jah, scene!?
Pan de face a that green after which all a dem stay deh a lust
It read ‘In God We Trust’
But still big legal rambling a gwan
If a chile wah fu pray inna oneschool bus.
Hypocritically, dem a separate Religion an’ State
An’ de mention of Jah inna de Address of the State
Dem a bawl ‘bout how it so great.
Anyway de people dat suppose fe see what a gwan
Nah even tek it on.
All dem a do a loss themselves inna de dungeon
Whey dem a bun’ night oil for Ol’Mac Donald
Big tings a gwan inna dis place
Big tings a gwan inna dis place
“Bring your poor and weary to our shores”
An’ you will have a life of comfort forever more
But really me wonder a who dem me deh a talk to!?
Dem constitution neva was made fu me or you
Only if you a one product of genetic bleaching
Can you really tink a integrating
Check out case points Haiti an’ Bosnia
Me neva see so much hypocrisy a gwan roun ya.
In Haiti de people dem’ a get slaughter wholesale
So much so dem a try fe bail
Out of that fatal situation
So them look northward to this‘great’ nation
But Sam look at de fleeing with disdain, scorn an’ contempt
Them horde them up like wild game inna one coral for de attempt
At exercising a God-given right
Fe find someplace peaceful fu sleepa’ night
But inna Bosnia, a nuh de same situation?
People a flee a troubled nation?
But . . . dem get red carpet welcome come yah.
All de big movie star an’ dem pan de TV, sah.
Put pressure pon’ the government fe let dem ‘poor tortured people’ come ova yah.
And jus like magic is a done deal.
Dem get visa, working papers an’ free meal.
While me bretheren dem from down where de sun hot,
An where the bullet an dem a bite jus’ as hot . . .
Dem get naught, me say naught!!
No, dem only too quick fe sen’ dem back
To a life where de promise of another breath dem severely lack.
If dem lucky enough fe stay here, de police dem attack
Dem in a dirty nassie bathroom wit de en’ of a broom.
Wha’s de reason for de open disparity,
For de Powers dat Be treatment of people from Haiti?
Me neva did wah fu say dat a because dem skin black like tar baby
But me nuh see nutt’n else dat make sense to me . . . cause . . .
Whole ton a Sob'm a gwan in dis’ place
Whole ton a Sob'm a gwan in dis’ place
Me hab a bone fe pick wid all a yu’
Wha mek inna dis day an’ age yu’still a mek Sammy divide you?
Me nar jus’a talk to de people an’ dem who hab’ kinky hair an’ dark skin
But all a you Spanish, Indian an’ other races ‘cept White need fe come inna
Dis one . . . ‘cause unless you open your eyes de racism an’ ting cyan’ done!
Fus me a deal wit’ a minor point in de scheme a tings
Uno Black Americans does say some god-awful tings
‘Bout people who come from de West Indies to live up here.
You a jump pan’ de white man boat when you voice dis ‘fear’
Dat we goin’ rob you of employment opportunity,
When the job dem dat we take, you nu want ‘e . . . anyway.
An’ den on top a dat you goin’ say. . .
Dat we guilty . . . of disunity.
Traitors to the ‘Black Community’
‘Cause we willing to accep’ de meager work de white man lef’ we.
Now, really, me undastan’ yourpoint of view,
For centuries now pan second class citizenship you a chew
An’ by right you should be able to do whatever you want to do
An for years a tacklin’ de system a still a brick wall you a run into.
Me undastan’ dat yu’ vex an’ whatnot,
A future dat you control you cyan’ spot.
But you don’ see . . . that you have valuable ally in Me?
Genetically, there is no difference between you an’ me
We from the same stock, same slave mother belly!
. . . An’ we are just as targeted by Massa Sammy!
Me a fight the same system, scene?
Jus’ ‘cause me tactics different dat don’ mean
We not aware of the situation, or don’ care ‘bout de situation.
Lickle axe chop down big tree
Sometime yu’ have to stoop to conquer yu’ enemy.
De Man is used to dealin’ wid’ your wrath
So when you act up like dat’ him only too glad to lead you down de path
To open bloodshed, mental and physical destruction
Look at our ancestry, we are not used to dem kine a violent notions.
All throughout history dem was always de bullies.
So we need to change up strategies.
So why not get into de system, undastan’ it, settle aroun’ de source
When tings get good pull all me bredrin in like de Trojan Horse
An’ from a position a independent, economic strength
We’d be prepared to relent
An’ mek Sammy deal wit Us equally
Because if you mess wid him money
No matter how racis’ him be
He haffu take You seriously!
So stop mek him divide all a we!
We is one blood, one family!
Stop follow de ‘Crab in de Pot’ laws
A pull one another back in a tearin’ hot water wit’ claws . . . ‘cause . . .
Is about time fu’ movements inna dis place!
Is about time fu’ movements inna dis place!
But mek me go back to de point me try mek earlier
Since dem plunder Africa,
De white man tek on de tas’ of tearin’ people sensibilities asunder
It was essential for dem to gain an’ maintain power.
Fool off everybody or jus’ plain murda’ dem
So dem gorge demself wid no problem
On de natural and precious resources inna everybody else country
Nobody wan’ dare challenge Uncle Sammy.
But also him an’ him cohorts jealous, see?
Envious of the pharoah an’ dem rich an’ powerful dynasty
Back in Egypt, him greedily an’ forcefully, tek everyting from our home country
If you could see how him han’forever bloody!
De taste mussa sweet he, see?
An’ his favorite pastime was jerkin’ off all over African people dignity
Talkin’ ‘bout we is lowest of low . . . an’
We so schupid we don’ undastan’ unless we’re treated so.
Dem demonize all a we, devil pickney ahwe be.
So dem work up excuse fe savagery an’ perversity.
An’ since den’ nobody wan’ share my identity
Even when dem have same roots, ancestry
And racist zealots a kill dem jus’as freely!
A who me talk ‘bout?
A you deh so me a talk ‘bout.
All a you go ‘roun’ de place a run yu’ mout’
A talk ‘bout uno not 'Black'
When de fact . . . is sometime your skin darker dan mine
De only difference me can fine
Is dat’ your hair jus’ lickle curly an’ mine jus’ kinky.
You tink dat because you speak a different tongue in your country
It mek you different to me?
S’mody look at you an’ me . . .
What difference is there to see?
But you see, uno let de Man get in yu’ head
Believe him when him tell you
Disassociate from them niggers in any way you can to get ahead.
Me a beg yu’ nu’ listen to that shit him a chat yu’!
A who me a chat to?
De Indians, Latinos (all countries an’ nationalities me a include)
And the peoples of the Orient too.
Mark my words: once your skin color ain’ de same color as his
Once your eyes don’ look like his
Once yu’ hair not as straight as his . . .
You will never get to where de Man is
By the conventional, conformin’ to the normal flow of tings.
We need to give our minds wings
To rise out from dat boilin’ pot of racism.
Come me further break down de problem.
Divide an’ Conquer a wha’ de Man does use to subdue
But if yu’ know dat why him still a dupe you
Into callin’ yourself Minorities and all dem other names Him have for us
By acceptin’ de label you are accepting inferior status, thus
De mindset that there is nothing much uno can do
To improve de situation ‘roun you.
De problem is de fac’ every group tink’ that dem better dan de other
If there is any mixin’ it results in de ostracism of a sister,
Disowning of a daughter
An’ whole heap a scorn de son or brother haffu carry pon’ dem back.
When all de while de Man jus’ a lay back
Watchin’, laughin’ as we fight among ourselves
An’ disunity swells to a cancerous level
Blockin’ any group’s chance for upward mobility.
So all a we stuck at de bottom a grovel
For what lickle scraps a opportunity Him pitch at we.
But . . . if we stop act so crazy
An’ come together . . . WE become de Majority!
We tek ova’ him title he’d be forced to deal wit’ all a we.
As a united set all our demandswill have to be met!
‘Cause if we decide not to deal wit’ He
An’ at that point we could you see,
Without our money it would topple de economy!
Business partners we’ll be,
Automatic promotion to first class citizenry,
Police brutality an’ other injustice an’ inequality will cease
Sammy would have to try to please
The major stockholders in de Company that run this country.
Into de warm waters of de future we can now wade
Don’ have to be afraid . . . no more ‘cuase me say . . .
Tings was always fe go dat way
Tings was always fe go dat way
Tings . . . was always to gothat . . . way
After that, we hear the song by Bob Marley “Revolution” begin to play. Slowly, the man begins to back up from addressing the audience. He turns and exits up center stage as the light dims to black. The music fades in the darkness after about five seconds.
Only the sounds of the sea can now be heard . . . which begins to fade slowly. Then total silence.
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