Revisiting Kamau Brathwaite’s poetry

The poet Kamau Brathwaite in the early 1990s. (Photo: New York University Archive)

Red Rising                   

1.

When the earth was made

when the wheels of the sky were being fashioned

when my songs were first heard in the voice of the cool of the owl

hillaby Soufriere and Kilimanjaro were standing towards me with

water with fire

at the centre of the air

there

in the keel of the blue

the son of my song, father-giver, the sun/sum

walks the four corners of the magnet, caught in the wind, blind

in the eye of his own hurricane

and the trees on the mountain be-

come mine: living eye of my branches

of bone; flute

where is my hope hope where is my psalter

my children wear masks dancing towards me the mews of their

origen earth

so that this place which is called mine

which will never know that cold scalpel of skull, hill of dearth

brain corals ignite and ignore it

and that this place which is called now

which will never again glow: coal balloon altracite: into cross-

roads of hollows

black spot of my life: jah

blue spot of my life: love

yellow spot of my life: iises

red spot of my dream that still flowers flowers flowers

let us give thanks

when the earth was made

when the sky first spoke with the voice of the rain/bow

when the wind gave milk to its music

when the suns of my morning walked out of their shallow

thrill/dren

 

2.

So that for centuries now have i fought against these opposites

how i am sucked from water into air

how the air surrounds me blue al the way

from ocean to the other shore

from halleluja to the black hole of hell

from this white furness where i burn

to those green sandy ant-hills where you grow your yam

you would think that i would hate eclipses

my power powdered over as it were

but its hallucination my fine friend

a fan a feather; some

one else’s breath of shadow

the moon’s cool or some plan/et’s

but can you ever guess how i

who have wracked

you wrong

long too to be black

be

come art of that hool that shrinks us all to stars

how i

with all these loco

motives in me

would like to straighten

strangle eye/self out

grow a beard wear dark glasses

driving the pack straight far

ward into indigo and vi

olet and on into ice like a miss

ile

rather than this surrendered curve

this habit forming bicycle of rains and seasons

weathers when i tear my hair

i will never i now know make it over the atlantic of that nebua

but that you may live my fond retreating future

i will accept i will accept the bonds that blind me

turning my face down/wards to my approaching past these

morning chill/dren

– Edward Kamau Brathwaite

 

February is Black History Month and a good time to revisit the work of one of the legendary poets of the Caribbean, whose verse is established at the very foundation of West Indian literature. Kamau Brathwaite (May 11, 1930 – February 4, 2020) was born Lawson Edward Brathwaite in Barbados but had a distinguished career that made a resounding impact in places where he worked – the UK, Africa, Jamaica, North America and his native Barbados. He earned a prominent place across the entire literary world.