From the archives of Marvin X: For the Warriors and other poems from Liberation Poems for North American Africans, 1983

For the Warriors


I have seen the best warriors of my generation
starved into submissions
exiled into loneliness capitulation
imprisoned assassination
seeking only the American dream
not Moscow Peking Havana
American dream








lonely warriors of forgotten causes
who did not enrich themselves
in the proper bourgeoisie manner
property stocks bonds
lonely warriors
unknown and known
some filled tv radio newspapers
night after night
standing tall against injustice
standing with honesty sacrifice
unselfish unconditional love for the people
naive to the  insincere
naive to the opportunist
naive to the pseudo intellectual
but sacrificing always
for the cause
eternal cause
that in time
blew their minds.

Now they see ghosts
Jesus Christ in the moon
left thinking right thinking
gone for sure
focus shattered
what can we do in this state
who will follow who will listen

you were our hero you were our hope
now you see ghosts
Jesus in the moon
and we are afraid
for there are no ghosts
no Jesus in the moon.
--Marvin X


Beat Ya Boss African


Beat ya boss African
are yr brave enough
why beat ya woman
she yo exploiter
oppressor
beat kya boss African
don't beat the field produce yo nation
beat yo boss African
don't beat yo wife
don't beat yo brother
beat yo boss
he pimpin ya ta death
got ya workin
30 yrs fa gold watch
don't work
beat ya boss African
he's the real motherfucker
fucked ya moma
beat ya boss African

He Was

He was a rolls royce negro
without a rolls royce 
economic negro
no economic plan
political negro
no political machine
bible toting negro
didn't read the bible
phd negro
couldn't write his name
international negro
didn't have a nation
pan african negro
wouldn't live in africa
islamic negro
refused to jihad
romantic negro
hated romance
negro leader
refused to lead
he was negro
black man
afro
african
afrikan
nubian
bilalian
jamaican
american
now he's........
--Marvin X

Fleeta Drumgo, San Quentin Brother

Fletta Fleeta
died at my doorstep
San Quentin Brother
broken warrior
I heard the shot that brought you low
Fleeta
 I saw them get into their car
police types
I saw them from my window
was  it drugs or revolution Fleeta
police came to my door
refused to answer
didn't know it was you
they killed that day
didn't know it was you
head they'd blown away
Fleeta
when the police knocked
I thought it was set up
more dirty tricks

I remember the last time you called Fleeta
you called but never came
we went to the airport for you
but you never came
except the final day
dreadful day
at my doorstep.
--Marvin X
 

 
Progressive Woman

Come my comrade
whisper in my ear
liberation of Pan Africa
so proud of you
revolutionary woman
fight on until victory
so nice to see
you haven't given up
gone back to sleep
fight on my sister my comrade
we may not agree on ideology, tactics strategy 
at least you're alive
to facades of this world
you want something new
a new order for people who won't surrender
in fear trembling
fight on my sister my comrade.
--Marvin X 


 Amina and Amira Baraka. We highly suspect the child in
Amina's arm is Ras Baraka, now mayor of Newark, NJ.