"A Go Blow Fire," "Revolutionary," "I an I Alone"
 
--Mickey Smith, 1982
 
(Born in Kingston, Jamaica, in 1954, Smith started writing poetry at thirteen. He was educated at a Social Development Workshop until he was selected for the Jamaica School of Drama. His vocal performances electrified audiences, and he carried his powerful dub poetry to Europe through personal appearances and through his recordings. He acknowledged the influence of Walter Rodney, of Rastafarianism, and of Black American writers such as Langston Hughes; his poetry protested the wretched conditions of the Jamaican poor and expressed their despair and rage. On August 17, 1983, he was stoned to death by four agents of the Jamaica Labour Party, right outside the JLP headquarters in Kingston.)

 
A Go Blow Fire
 
Me naw disown dis-ya talk
fi chat bout me freedom.
Naw tun criminal
siddung fill me lungs wid smoke
and sing song of lamentation
all day long.
 
Yuh tink every day I a go get up
an jus blow like dus
an when I cry
fi-I tears tun to pus?
 
I cyaan just a galang
a hope like a barren lan fi rain.
I soon bus
 
for behind I is darkness,
round I destruction,
an before I
hunger
a go blow fire!
 
 
Revolutionary
 
Yuh see all de time
a siddung ya naw she nutten?
A jus a tink
how a never have no fahder
an how a had to model me modder
fi live ina one little tenement yard
which part everbody tink dem better off
dan de odder, yet when night come
dem ben up like exercise book,
siddung a wonder wha dem a go cook.
 
She never business bout Africa,
much less fi go like Rasta,
an she woulda wuk night an day,
make sacrifice an pray.
For all she waan fi know,
dat her son come out to sinting better
an she can move outa de hog pen
an show off pon her fren.
 
I remember de fus day
de bull come inna de pen,
im seh, "A goin ketch dis dungle a fire
an buil some concrete structure,
dat pon a dark day
yuh can stretch outside an polish de sky!"
an we seh dis is progress,
content wid an incompleteness
inside.
 
Now I tun man
I sight up a revolutionary vision:
if we waan seh roots any at all
we haffi go stop we mumma from movin
from yard to yard.
 
 
I an I Alone: or Goliath
 
I an I alone
ah trod tru creation
Babylon on I right
Babylon on I left
Babylon in front of I
an Babylon behind I
an I an I alone inna de middle
like a Goliath wid a sling shot
 
"Ten cent a bundle fi me calaloo!
Yuh a buy calaloo, dread? Ten cent."
 
Everybody a try fi sell something
Everybody a try fi grab something
Everybody a try fi hussle something
Everybody a try fi kill something
 
but ting an ting mus ring
an only a few cyaan sing
cause dem nah face de same sinting
 
"It's a hard road to travel
an a might long way to go:
Jesus, me blessed Saviour
will meet us on the journey home." {Sung}
 
"Shopping bag! Shopping bag! Five cent fi one!"
"Green Pepper! Thyme! Skellion! Pimento!"
"Remember de Sabbath day to keep it holy!
Six days shalt thou labour,
But on the seventh day shalt thou rest."
"Hey, Man! How much fi dah piece a yam deh?
No, no dat, dat! Yes, dat!"
"Three dollars a poun, nice genkleman."