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1. Dr. Martin Luther King
A doctor, yes a doctor
With a different kind of strategy
His medicine
Administered none violently
His utterances thunder
In righteous rage
Echoing and echoing
All through the age

Sticks to our heads
Dogs at our feet
In cold blood
Shot down in the street
Yet he helped to give us
The audacity to stand today
To protest
And say things we dare to say

So, on that day he marched
On Washington
The oppressors got to know
They did get to understand
They're dealing with a serious African

On that day they shot him down
They thought his hopes and dreams
Would drown
But t through his love and respect
For humanity
His life is now lived as social reality

So like Malcolm x and Walter Rodney
Kwame Nkruma and Marcus Garvey
Nelson Mandela even Bob Marley
You know when they talk
They talk for we

King King King
He was a doctor
King King King
He was a healer
King King King
Martin Luther ÖKing

By Kefim Jahi ” Copyrights: 1982
2. Get In
Everyone needs solitude
A moment in the sanctuary
Of self
In the temple
Of the "I"
To see what is not seen
With open eyes
To hear what is not herd
When word
From lips are spoken
To walk in the company of the wise
And polarize the third eye on the prize
The objective, the purpose, the goal
Concentrating, being careful of gazing
That detracts
Then throw you off-tract
Everyone need solitude
So get in

Treasures of blessings within
Waiting for your attending
Get in
To get out
Of the hustle and the bustle
The hassle and the tassel
With which we wrestle
For balance

Get in
To subdue emotions
With reason
Irrationality pulls you out
Out into the jungle
The rat race
That place
Of commercial demands
For time and money
Keeping up
Being put down
To be the biggest
The first, the best

Get in
To repair the tear
Torn and battered emotion
That takes you through the motion
In contemplation of lifeís worth
Wondering if you do belong
On this earth
That sense of self

That sometimes says
I can see no way
My way is dark
And the road is lonely
I thirst to see the light
I donít belong
Which leaves you

With a belonging
To be
Someone worthy
Everyone need solitude
So get in

Take charges and know
The value of being
Be who you are
Mind travel far
Take a trip
On the astral plane
Where you need not
Remember your name
With eyes closed
Everything becomes same
All is one
Space without boundaries
Explore its boundlessness
Why chase the world
When the universe is inside
Why hang loose
When thereís so much to do

Get in
To conceptualize
Design, plan, and organize
The way to go
The what to do
The who to see
The profitability
Isolate priority
Burn symbols of anxiety and misery
That follows like a ghost from yonder
Dragging memories like the ox
Dragging its plough to forrough

Grab the bull by the horn
Wrestle it to the ground
Fears must be conquered
Or fear will run you down

Get in
To pick up the pieces
Tune in
To the divine creative processes
That emanates
From the creator's energies
Filling the universe
Giving soul experience
With mind and matter
Get in
Pick your face up
From off the ground
Shake that frown
Listen to the positive inner-sound
And smile
Get in
To give thanks
For the many times
You've had the reason
To give thanks
For vision, insight and intuition
Fir I-dea, good judgment
The Miracle
Of thoughts and action
All things are from within
Itís good thing
To get in.

” Kefiim
Hair is beauty
Not many dispute it
But why do we try
To escape the nappyness
Why do we deny
The naturalness
And choose the rest
Above our own kind

Who thought us
To cuss the kink
It's coyly style
To make them tense
With chemical boil
To keep them straight
Trying painfully to look
Like massa's child

We spend billions
To buy the harvested hair
Of Korean girls
And synthetic curls
Jet black straight hair
Flowing in the back
Hair from horses
Hair from yak

But to deny
One's own natural traits
Is an expression of self-hate?
To pretend to be something
That you're not
Is a symptom of a warped identity
True identity
Is what you lack
Hair is beauty
That is a fact
But for too many
Beautiful hair comes only
In a pack

Unrealistically strait
Unrealistically black
The time, the pain and money
Doesnít really matter
Its enemy is natural moisture
The moment water touches
Straighten African hair
It goes right back to Africa
Trying to regain its roots
And respect the truth
That the pursuit of good hair
Is an illusion?
A inferiority complex
Echoís of Willie Lynchís declaration
Nappy hair has been here
Before any other hair got here
We declare resistance to the conspiracy
To destroy nappy hair
Long live the kink
Long lives the kink

Long lives the kink

Copyrights: Kefim ©2003
4. Hail To the Sphinx
Hail to the Sphinx
In pyramid shadows
Seated in silence
Crouched In the heat
Of desert sand
Countenance majestic,
Regal, firm and strong
A marvel and a mystery
Since ancient man
Baffling human minds today
Even those who went before
Hail to the sphinx
With its mysterious lore.
Ras Kefim Copyrights: 2001
5. "The Song of the Banana Man"
By Evan Jones.
Touris, white man, wipin his face,
Met me in Golden Grove market place.
He looked at m'ol' clothes brown wid stain ,
An soaked right through wid de Portlan rain,
He cas his eye, turn up his nose,
He says, 'You're a beggar man, I suppose?'
He says, 'Boy, get some occupation,
Be of some value to your nation.'
I said, 'By God and dis big right han
You mus recognize a banana man.

'Up in de hills, where de streams are cool,
An mullet an janga swim in de pool,
I have ten acres of mountain side,
An a dainty-foot donkey dat I ride,
Four Gros Michel, an four Lacatan,
Some coconut trees, and some hills of yam,
An I pasture on dat very same lan
Five she-goats an a big black ram,
Dat, by God an dis big right han
Is de property of a banana man.

'I leave m'yard early-mornin time
An set m'foot to de mountain climb,
I ben m'back to de hot-sun toil,
An m'cutlass rings on de stony soil,
Ploughin an weedin, diggin an plantin
Till Massa Sun drop back o John Crow mountain,
Den home again in cool evenin time,
Perhaps whistling dis likkle rhyme,
(Sung)Praise God an m'big right han
I will live an die a banana man.

'Banana day is my special day,
I cut my stems an I'm on m'way,
Load up de donkey, leave de lan
Head down de hill to banana stan,
When de truck comes roun I take a ride
All de way down to de harbour side-
Dat is de night, when you, touris man,
Would change your place wid a banana man.
Yes, by God, an m'big right han
I will live an die a banana man.

'De bay is calm, an de moon is bright
De hills look black for de sky is light,
Down at de dock is an English ship,
Restin after her ocean trip,
While on de pier is a monstrous hustle,
Tallymen, carriers, all in a bustle,
Wid stems on deir heads in a long black snake
Some singin de sons dat banana men make,
Like, Praise God an m'big right han
I will live an die a banana man.

'Den de payment comes, an we have some fun,
Me, Zekiel, Breda and Duppy Son.
Down at de bar near United Wharf
We knock back a white rum, bus a laugh,
Fill de empty bag for further toil
Wid saltfish, breadfruit, coconut oil.
Den head back home to m'yard to sleep,
A proper sleep dat is long an deep.
Yes, by God, an m'big right han
I will live an die a banana man.

'So when you see dese ol clothes brown wid stain,
An soaked right through wid de Portlan rain,
Don't cas your eye nor turn your nose,
Don't judge a man by his patchy clothes,
I'm a strong man, a proud man, an I'm free,
Free as dese mountains, free as dis sea,
I know myself, an I know my ways,
An will sing wid pride to de end o my days
Praise God an m'big right han
I will live an die a banana man.'

To some the word is kind-a-scary
Especially to the uncreative, the slothful
The lofty and the lazy
To them engaging muscles
And applying mind
Is something they would rather forget
But from experience
I must confess
Work is the greatest word yet

When things do work
Like they really should
It makes us comfortable
And that's damn good
When things donít work
As they sometimes will
The result is problem
Somethingís ill

The greatest objective
Is to make things work
Cause when they donít
It usually hurts.

Ras Kefim
7. SIN
Sin, who invented that thing
That condemns one's soul
And dam its wretchedness to hell
Where eternal flames awaits the fate
Of the wicked sinner
Burning for ever, and ever
In everlasting flames of fire

Hell sounds like a giant cookout
Of souls
On the devils barbecue
Who with his assistants keep the fire hot
For those who dare to trespass,
and sin

Sin, who invented that thing

Sin is big business
It's religion's cash cow
Without it their coffers would be empty
So you got to repent now
They prey upon the guilty
Preaching submission to the weak
Who they say live in a world of sin
The same one the priest are living in

Sin, who invented that thing

Sin is anything the bishops donít like
They might have invented this convenient device
Cause while they save your soul from hell
And seduce you with that ringing bell
Like Pavlov's dog, salivation run
Whenever that bell is rung
Running to the priest
Well burdened down
Confessing heart and blabbering tongue
On banded knees seeking the divine
Trying to change their sin-filled minds

Sin, who invented that thing

They always greet you with a smile
And say how Jesus love the little child
While within their midst sin live in style
Hundreds of preying pedophiles
Suffer not children to come unto me
They came and suffered tragically
While they greet with kiss and hug
Sinister sins are sweeped under holy rug
Sin is politics and power play
Thatís what I say
A game they play psychologically

Who invented that thing?

Copyrights: Kefim 2003
It gives a strange
And uncomfortable chill
When youths are blamed
For societies ills

If adults fail to discipline
They cannot blame the children.

By Kefim Copyrights ©2003
9. Slave
Slave bending shinny black
Cracker cracking whip on bare back
Gaping wounds appear in a flash
Old wounds reopening
Wounds from years gone back
From pain-filled eyes,
Ice-cold tears a tumbling
Down black steel
Corrugated, twisted cheekbones

Quivering under glistering
showers of tears
Fighting to control it's trembling
Mouth attempt to speak,
To protest this injustice
But no voice exist
Arrested by fear
Muzzled by the anguish
Fueled by that wicked cow skin
That bites like a viperís sting
Flames of anger raging

Intestines convulse
All tied into knots
Aches of rage
Blood boiling hot
Oh, lord forget me not
If though ought the god of Jacob
Relieve me from this lot

"Move nigger, move"
Cracker barked
In command
His helpless subject
Accommodates his every demand

In fear and trembling
Slaves starts a praying
Asking god to be speared
From the crackers whipping
Praying the way the cracker thought them
Praying to the insensitive cracker god
The cracker gave them
Asking Massa god to change Massa Bush soul
And save them from his merciless scold

With all the praying and whipping
In my mind this question keep's ringing
What will become of slavery's children?

Ras Kefim
Friends are you having problems trying to sleep nights
Worrying about the war, rioting, police brutality,
And poverty
Is that your problems, Friends?
Well, put a end to your sleepless nights:
New Improved Democracy with Black PEOPLE in it
New Improved Democracy with BlACK PEOPLE in it
is sure to deter riots, end poverty, stop police brutality,
and let you sleep so soundly, that you won't
to make wars or meddle in foreign affairs

New Improved Democracy with BLACK PEOPLE in it
is guaranteed to work, not just for today
or tomorrow but for life
So remember to ask for and use
New Improved Democracy with BLACK PEOPLE in it

Mary Mason
11.Here I Sit On A ship
Here I sit on a ship
Sailing across the Atlantic
This decision is not mine
I had no part in it
Yet, here I sit on a ship
Sailing across the Atlantic

Among the stench of
Filth and blood and human vomit
In this dark dingy dungeon
In the bottom of this pit
Shackles so tight
Suppressing my will to fight
No way to escape
No room for flight

I hear moans
I hear sighs
Oh, what a dilemma
Oh! What dread-filled sight
Now, hear comes the captain
With his big whip
Filled with hate and prejudice
A symbol of man's hatred
And beastliness
My life now in the hands
Of Christian merchant capitalist

Still, here I sit on a ship
Sailing across the Atlantic
What did I do to deserve this?

Sun rays hardly shine on me
My skin is getting pale
No cool breeze on my body
No fresh air to inhale
Is this a nightmare or a dreaming
Is this a fairytale?
Still here I sit on a ship
Sailing across the Atlantic

My thoughts go weak
My whole life in a drift
All freedom now gone
My family I do miss
Hopelessness overcome me
Faith and courage diminish
Gone from my life
All joy and bliss

Still, here I sit on a ship
Sailing across the Atlantic

My brother beside me
To him I dare not speak
I've got to act humble
Tongue in cheek
No rage or anger
Got to play meek

Oh! What will be my destiny?

What does the future hold for me

When will my freedom be restored?

When will these shackles let me be?

Here I sit on a ship
Sailing across the Atlantic

Ras Kefim
Love Stream
by Ras Kefim

Love is a cool refreshing stream
That flows and flows
Against rough rocks
Earth of Green
Washing them smooth
Crispy clean
Love is a cool refreshing stream
Kefim ©2002