Poems by Malachi Smith

• December 2011

Papine

Zoop, zop, zoop
Zoop, zoop, zoop
Zoop, zoop, zoop
La la la la la
La la la la la

Celebrating a Jamaican spring morning
Kool FM dishing sweet soul melodies
Antioxidants eliminating
Free radicals from the stream

Constant Spring rises in the distance
Like flute notes
Star burst sunrays sweep my gaze

Her green roof stretched
Can’t cover the fire rust
Zinc fences of her neighbors

Gully banks stripped of their identity
Nothing grows now
Now even the living dead
Who refuse to move to higher ground

A mini bus of noises invades my solitude
Bad man tunes rapid firing
Beautiful people packed like sardines
Can’t breathe

They see ugly, feel ugly
Hear ugly, hoping
The next stop is Papine
Living dead stay silent while
The noise a buss up them head

Tired of hearing the same old
Wash up Cartel and gully bank stuff
They wrap, sell, feed, inject
Into conscious, subconscious cognitive centers

Want to hear rain tongue
Licking zinc roof belly clean
Finding grooves tracing
Igniting lightening thunder streams
Of warmth that only rain God
Tongue fingers can feel

Want to see a dragon fly
Kissing a rainbow angel
High up over a blooming poinsettia
As psychedelic as a Marley spliff pull
On a mystic morning

Turn down the noise
Increase the positive vibes
On this Tropical soft lit morning
Want to hear waves lashing
Bashing, crashing, caressing screaming
Melodies of love and happiness

I turn up my stereo
And down struck the distraction

 

Belly Full

Big belly man
Petite woman
Dine on succulent portions
Merry chatter laughter
Sophisticated whispers
Glasses of red wine
Knives slicing through delicacies
China plates whisper

Searching the menu
Couldn’t find a sumptuous appetizer
I desired something satisfying
Mouthwatering juicy tender

You caught my eyes
Sitting at my table
Everything I desired
But couldn’t find the courage to order

The time wasn’t right
To hold her eyes any longer
I began to dream
Walking down to Emancipation Park

She followed

Asking questions
I dared not answer
Then, maybe, just maybe
I would see her again

I did

Driving east through high mountains
Searching for the sun
Romancing memories of Lover’s Leap
Taking my eyes off the road
Just long enough to catch
The last sunray sweeping across her face

I felt hungry

God, I want to know what love is
For I am rising, falling
Living, dying
Full, famished
Thirsty, refreshed
Accepting everything
You have served up

We ascend to the peak
Rise, kill and eat.

 

An alumnus of Florida International University, Miami-Dade College and Jamaica School of Drama, Malachi Smith was one of the founding members of Poets In Unity, a critically acclaimed ensemble that brought dub-poetry to the forefront of reggae music in the late 70s.  He has released numerous recordings of his work, and his latest album/CD Middle Passage celebrates his return to the potency of his journey poems enjoyed on Throw Two Punch.  He is the 2011 recipient of the Independent Voyces Literary Fair in "Lifetime Time Achievement Award."