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Have to reflect on this with all the craziness around
YOU CANNOT FEEL FOR ME
Benjamin J. Hanson
When the branding rod
of humiliation
burns deep within my soul;
When my humanity is denied
And like a gangrenous sore
I do not even wince when struck,
YOU cannot feel for me
When Injustice
wigged and robed,
Haunts my hearth,
a vile insensate vampire
sucking me dry
of spirit and pride;
When I cringe
within my black shanty,
home alike for bones and soul,
YOU cannot feel for me.
When panic-struck
and distraught,
I feel panting
to the dunghill I call home,
Flee from the “law”
which does not see
your white transparency;
When all I am
is bludgeoned
into insensitivity,
and all I could become
is cancelled in advance …
YOU cannot feel` for me.
When on mine
the lilies of Sharpeville
turned blood-red roses;
When fecund Soweto
Brooded
on her mortgaged loss
of offspring scythed
too green to know
their blackest crime ….
was Blackness;
And was denied the right
to sniffle or to wail,
YOU did not weep for me.
When Jimcrow told me
where to live
and who to hate,
which bus to ride,
and where to die;
When Apartheid decreed
how best to fill my mind
to make me what he wants,
You told me to be glad
my ‘brother’ thought of me;
But then, you see …
You cannot feel for me.
When you
to me
preach Brotherhood of Man,
You see
in me
the bastard strain
of Hagar’s servile line …
A threat to your inheritance;
And so
You CANNOT feel for me.
Through Spirituals
and Jazz,
in Blues
and Soul
I have distilled
the pure indigo
of my soul ---
But you could not understand;
In Calypso
and Reggae
I speak to you
of stark oppression;
But you …
my ‘brother’
only see the laughs;
Insensitive
You CANNOT feel for me
When in the stillness of the morn
I spoke to you
in tenderness and love
imploring you
to share with me
the bounties of my home,
you spurned me;
Said:
“You have the form
But not
the intellect of Man.”
And so …
you would not treat with me.
When from the sordid depths
of grim despair I cry my
“Eloi, Eloi, lama sabahthani!”
HE does not heed my wail.
So when in the encroaching gloom
at last
I take up arms
to liberate myself,
reclaim my soiled humanity
from the dust
where you and yours
have trampled it
Too long;
Don’t speak
to me
of Christian love;
Because …
I have no other cheek to turn,
no square inch of hide left
to take
one
more
lash
from you
Who CANNOT FEEL for me.
YOU CANNOT FEEL FOR ME
Benjamin J. Hanson
When the branding rod
of humiliation
burns deep within my soul;
When my humanity is denied
And like a gangrenous sore
I do not even wince when struck,
YOU cannot feel for me
When Injustice
wigged and robed,
Haunts my hearth,
a vile insensate vampire
sucking me dry
of spirit and pride;
When I cringe
within my black shanty,
home alike for bones and soul,
YOU cannot feel for me.
When panic-struck
and distraught,
I feel panting
to the dunghill I call home,
Flee from the “law”
which does not see
your white transparency;
When all I am
is bludgeoned
into insensitivity,
and all I could become
is cancelled in advance …
YOU cannot feel` for me.
When on mine
the lilies of Sharpeville
turned blood-red roses;
When fecund Soweto
Brooded
on her mortgaged loss
of offspring scythed
too green to know
their blackest crime ….
was Blackness;
And was denied the right
to sniffle or to wail,
YOU did not weep for me.
When Jimcrow told me
where to live
and who to hate,
which bus to ride,
and where to die;
When Apartheid decreed
how best to fill my mind
to make me what he wants,
You told me to be glad
my ‘brother’ thought of me;
But then, you see …
You cannot feel for me.
When you
to me
preach Brotherhood of Man,
You see
in me
the bastard strain
of Hagar’s servile line …
A threat to your inheritance;
And so
You CANNOT feel for me.
Through Spirituals
and Jazz,
in Blues
and Soul
I have distilled
the pure indigo
of my soul ---
But you could not understand;
In Calypso
and Reggae
I speak to you
of stark oppression;
But you …
my ‘brother’
only see the laughs;
Insensitive
You CANNOT feel for me
When in the stillness of the morn
I spoke to you
in tenderness and love
imploring you
to share with me
the bounties of my home,
you spurned me;
Said:
“You have the form
But not
the intellect of Man.”
And so …
you would not treat with me.
When from the sordid depths
of grim despair I cry my
“Eloi, Eloi, lama sabahthani!”
HE does not heed my wail.
So when in the encroaching gloom
at last
I take up arms
to liberate myself,
reclaim my soiled humanity
from the dust
where you and yours
have trampled it
Too long;
Don’t speak
to me
of Christian love;
Because …
I have no other cheek to turn,
no square inch of hide left
to take
one
more
lash
from you
Who CANNOT FEEL for me.