MEDITATION ON YELLOW
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- At three in the afternoon
- you landed here at El Dorado
- (for heat engenders gold and
- fires the brain)
- Had I known I would have
- brewed you up some yellow fever-grass
- and arsenic
- but we were peaceful then
- child-like in the yellow dawn of our innocence
- so in exchange for a string of islands
- and two continents
- you gave us a string of beads
- and some hawk's bells
- which was fine by me personally
- for I have never wanted to possess things
- I prefer copper anyway
- the smell pleases our lord Yucahuna
- our mother Attabeira
- It's just that copper and gold hammered into guanin
- worn in the solar pendants favored by our holy men
- fooled you into thinking we possessed the real thing
- (you were not the last to be fooled by our
- patina)
- As for silver
- I find that metal a bit cold
- The contents of our mines
- I would have let you take for one small mirror
- to catch and hold the sun
- I like to feel alive
- to the possibilities
- of yellow
- lightning striking
- perhaps as you sip tea
- at three in the afternoon
- a bit incontinent
- despite your vast holdings
- (though I was gratified to note
- that despite the difference in our skins
- our piss was exactly the same shade of yellow)
- I wished for you
- a sudden enlightenment that
- we were not the Indies
- nor Cathay
- No Yellow Peril here
- though after you came
- plenty of bananas
- oranges
- sugar cane
- You gave us these for our
- maize
- pineapples
- guavas
- – in that respect
- there was fair exchange
- But it was gold
- on your mind
- gold the light
- in your eyes
- gold the crown
- of the Queen of Spain
- (who had a daughter)
- gold the prize
- of your life
- the crowning glory
- the gateway to heaven
- the golden altar
- (which I saw in Seville
- five hundred years after)
- Though I couldn't help noticing
- (this filled me with dread):
- silver was your armour
- silver the cross of your Lord
- silver the steel in your countenance
- silver the glint of your sword
- silver the bullet I bite
- Golden the macca
- the weeds
- which mark our passing
- the only survivors
- on yellow-streaked soil
- We were The Good Indians
- The Red Indians
- The Dead Indians
- We were not golden
- We were a shade too brown.
- At some hotel
- overlooking the sea
- you can take tea
- at three in the afternoon
- served by me
- skin burned black as toast
- (for which management apologizes)
- but I've been travelling long
- cross the sea in the sun-hot
- I've been slaving in the cane rows
- for your sugar
- I've been ripening the coffee beans
- for your morning break
- I've been dallying on the docks
- loading your bananas
- I've been toiling in orange groves
- for your marmalade
- I've been peeling ginger
- for your relish
- I've been chopping cocoa pods
- for your chocolate bars
- I've been mining aluminium
- for your foil
- And just when I thought
- I could rest
- pour my own
- – something soothing
- like fever-grass and lemon –
- cut my ten
- in the kitchen
- take five
- a new set of people
- arrive
- to lie bare-assed in the sun
- wanting gold on their bodies
- cane-rows in their hair
- with beads – even bells
- So I serving them
- coffee
- tea
- cock-soup
- rum
- Red Stripe beer
- sensimilla
- I cane-rowing their hair
- with my beads
- But they still want more
- want it strong
- want it long
- want it black
- want it green
- want it dread
- Though I not quarrelsome
- I have to say: look
- I tired now
- I give you the gold
- I give you the land
- I give you the breeze
- I give you the beaches
- I give you the yellow sand
- I give you the golden crystals
- And I reach to the stage where
- (though I not impolite)
- I have to say: lump it
- or leave it
- I can't give anymore
- For one day before I die
- from five hundred years of servitude
- I due to move
- from kitchen to front verandah
- overlooking the Caribbean Sea
- drinking real tea
- with honey and lemon
- eating bread (lightly toasted, well buttered)
- with Seville orange marmalade
- I want to feel mellow
- in that three o'clock yellow
- I want to feel
- though you own
- the silver tea service
- the communion plate
- you don't own
- the tropics anymore
- I want to feel
- you cannot take away
- the sun dropping by every day
- for a chat
- I want to feel
- you cannot stop
- Yellow Macca bursting through
- the soil reminding us
- of what's buried there
- you cannot stop
- those street gals
- those streggehs
- Allamanda
- Cassia
- Poui
- Golden Shower
- flaunting themselves everywhere
- I want to feel:
- you cannot tear my song
- from my throat
- you cannot erase the memory
- of my story
- you cannot catch
- my rhythm
- (for you have to born
- with that)
- you cannot comprehend
- the magic
- of anacondas
- changing into rivers
- like the Amazon
- boas dancing in my garden
- arcing into rainbows
- (and I haven't had a drop
- to drink – yet)
- You cannot reverse
- Bob Marley wailing
- making me feel
- so mellow
- in that Caribbean yellow
- at three o'clock
- any day now.
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