brotha saul

dear ras
      i greet de lyaans
      in their roar of marble
      frozen in their gloss of postcard

      i greet u lyaan
      in yr mane of fire
      yr den of selassie
      yr glut of slave flesh

      what a boom of exploding riff
      what a tremor of bassline
      thunder of drum
      yr rock of voice
      whatta bomb-bomb
      yr stained finger of kaya
      calling from mount zion

      lissen ras lissen here
      jus don let de green of de spliff
      curtain u from the red of mah blood
      as piggin babylon runs with de gold

      don let de rhythm ride u
      when mah glass of freedom splinters
      don let u be muted rub-a-dub
      to de clang-a-lang-lang of de chain
      as mah green of tomorrow
      gives in at de knee
      lissen ras
      i write u so short
      as outside fire mounts up de road
      des a firebomb shattering
      brotha’s skull goes a-cracking
      while de blinking on/off blue light
      & de noising pierce of siren scream
confuse de night

      remember lyaan
      death hovers above like ready vultures
           mah bass is de fire
           blood muffles de drum
           & de mic gurgles red

      i’ll keep u de yelling red
      while i chase de looted gold
      mah green is a bridge to u

            till then
                       ras

                  keep de lyaans roaring
                                     xex