I WILL NOT APOLOGIZE (A poyem. Because I’m fwightened and I’m scawid and I don’t want to do journalism any more. I just want to wun away. Boo hoo hoo hoo….ROTMFFLMAO!)

Gangsta for Truth: "You know it's hard out here for a pimp (you ain't knowin)
When he tryin to get this money for the rent (you ain't knowin)"

 

A TOTALLY UNNECESSARY, EGOTISTICAL AND SELF-INDULGENT

INTRODUCTION:

I am going to pay for  this. High price. But for the truth, whatever.

TO MY CHILDREN: Papa had to fight for the truth because Kenny and Chas wouldn’t.

TO THE SOLDIERS: There are no orders. There never were. You already know what you must do. You always did. Little things. Individual things. No big movement this time. No blood and bluster. No ‘movement’ or any of that shit. Just good people following their hearts, using their fucking brains and doing the right thing, little by little, one day at a time. Stay calm and cool. But don’t hesitate. Lil things. Lil things.

TO THOSE STILL ON THE PLANTATION: Tyranny prospers when good men stay silent. But I understand your fears. It’s okay. We’ll handle it. Hold your positions. Maintain the plantation. When it is your turn to act, you will know. You will feel it. It all looks very dramatic now, but it’s not. It’s going to take a while. This will not be over soon.

TO MY BAD BOYS: Thank you. You make me humble. My life is in your hands.

And now, the main story…Sowwy, poyem:

Oh maaaan, not my navel, anywhere but my navel. I hate getting stabbed and shot in my navel.

I WILL NOT APOLOGIZE

I WILL NOT BACK DOWN

I WILL NOT BE DOMESTICATED

I WILL NOT BE ENSLAVED

I WILL NOT LIVE IN FEAR

Mutherfuckaz shot me in my navel, J. Be careful, dog.

I HAVE CHILDREN AND WHEN I DIE STRANGERS WILL TELL THEM:

YOUR FATHER DID NOT COMPLY

YOUR FATHER COLLABORATE

YOUR FATHER DID NOT CONSPIRE

YOUR FATHER DID NOT STAY SILENT

YOUR FATHER DID NOT TAKE THE MONEY

YOUR FATHER DID NOT BREAK THE BREAD

YOUR FATHER DID NOT DRINK THE WINE

Papa looove Rainy sooooo much....(tear)

AS FOR YOU, SIR, 

YOU WILL FIND THAT YOU ARE NOT SUING ME

I AM MAKING YOU SUE ME

I AM CHANGING THE GAME

I AM REMAKING THE MIND OF ST LUCIA

IN GOD’S IMAGE

I AM CHANGING NOTHING

I AM ADDING SOMETHING THAT WILL CHANGE EVERYTHING

I, JOSHUA

I, GIDEON

I, DAVID

I, MACKANDAL

I, TOUSSAINT

I, LA CROIX

I, XUMBI

I, CHATOLIER

I, SEMDAZE

I, RASTA

I, MOTHERFUCKING LEGBA!

 

YOU DARE TO SET YOUR WRATH AGAINST ME, SON OF LIES....?

WELL, NOW, I WILL KEEP YOU UP TONIGHT

THERE WILL BE NO SLEEP FOR THE WICKED AND THEIR SISTERS

FOR IN THIS MOMENT

I AM POSSESSED BY A GREATER POWER THAN YOU ARE

I AM THE CONTINUATION OF THAT MUTA BARUKA POEM

IN YOUR MIND

IN YOUR MIND

IN YOUR MOTHERFUCKING MIND

This night is not yet over....

(Hmm. From a literary standpoint, that wasn't a very good poyem at all, was it, Mr Hippolyte? You're right. I should stick to fake journalism. Stand by.)