Mr. Pimp is very much at ease,
no doubt, joyful at the applause
that followed the hateful speech
of a political candidate
that bashed the immigrants.
Yes a soldier now that was a thought
I’d never had before
I didn’t fight, I’d never fought
And I’d never been to war.
But myself, and millions of others
Decided to heed the call
And despite the tears of our mothers
We trooped off all proud and tall
Together as mates from our towns
All over these sceptered isles
We left young and happy, but soon frowns
Replaced our naïve smiles.
Why is it so hard to live with each other
We are all one, you’re my sister, my brother
When did we become so expendable and cheap
Why is life too hard to cherish and keep
My sweat smells like Dachau,
even under Caribbean blooms, even
after I have thumbed it red. I wear
other cultures because mine is
It is just an excuse
to control, to abuse
Cameras in every street
check where and when we meet
What happened to you?
There was a time when you were an equivalent for freedom
Freedom to express whatever one believed
Showing respect for whatever one achieved.
By boat, by plane, or car taking route 66,
the land prospered due to a people’s mix.
It did not matter where one was born.
Now immigrants are greeted with shocking scorn,
tolerated to execute the dirty work in all visibility
but just not good enough to earn their legality.
Sour we are, we no longer water the roots to our fruitful aspirations.
How are we all stuck in this condiment of indignation.
I’m scared for my generation.
When walking down my own street I catch a bullet for my pigmentation.
And we scream black lives matter creating a tumultuous pattern
Like we’re not the ones doing the eliminating.
Women sleeping with men to fill spaces that have long been vacant.
Men sleeping with women whom they find better naked.
The redundancy order
Of a tireless occupation
We desire a quick fix
More than the desire to make it.
If I could cure all illnesses
and make the injured whole,
or remove hatred from men’s hearts
and let the soulless find a soul.
If I could make men see sense
And refuse to go to war,
I am sick and tired of this constant blaming
and targeting of the poor, the dispossessed,
the victims of the wars without end.
The deliberate shaming,
of those who cannot respond.
Some people are basically, lazy.
It takes effort to discover