The first..The Last Poets

http://tagmannamgat.wordpress.com/
Poète du Tiers-Monde

May 8, 2014 by tagman_namgat

Depuis toujours, il y a maldonne
En guerre ou en amour, on pardonne
On a beau essayer mais on ne gagne pas
On rejoue mais on perd à chaque fois
De l’autre côté du bon hémisphère
On prie Dieu mais y a que Lucifer
On nous dit qu’on ne sait pas y faire
Car leurs étés coïncident à nos hivers
Sur les cartes on se retrouve en bas
Disons que pour nous la terre ne tourne pas
De toute façon, elle ne fait que tourner en rond
C’est peut-être pour ça qu’on a le tournis
On veut sauter et échapper à notre terre
Mais tant de fois ils nous ont dit de nous taire
C’est la galère, mais nous on veut ramer
Mais la mer me dit terre armée
De leurs langues on se sert pour s’exprimer
Crise identitaire, sur nos fronts, imprimée
Culture occidentale dans nos têtes, imprégnée
Mais dans leurs guerres, nous on meurt en premier
Pourtant on dit, qu’en son pays, nul n’est poète
Alors dites-moi, où donner de la tête
Je fais des rimes, en ce pays, prisonnières
Non reconnues jusqu’ici par mes pairs
Est-ce ma faute si mon monde est incomplet
Ils le disent quart, tiers ou bien moitié
Suis-je moi-même une partie vagabonde
N’ayant choisi d’être un poète du tiers-monde

You will not be able to stay home, brother.
You will not be able to plug in, turn on and cop out.
You will not be able to lose yourself on skag and skip out for beer during commercials,
Because the revolution will not be televised.

The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be brought to you by Xerox in 4 parts without commercial interruptions.
The revolution will not show you pictures of Nixon blowing a bugle and leading a charge by John Mitchell, General Abrams and Mendel Rivers to eat hog maws confiscated from a Harlem sanctuary.
The revolution will not be televised.

The revolution will not be brought to you by the Schaefer Award Theatre and will not star Natalie Wood and Steve McQueen or Bullwinkle and Julia.
The revolution will not give your mouth sex appeal.
The revolution will not get rid of the nubs.
The revolution will not make you look five pounds thinner.
The revolution will not be televised, Brother.

There will be no pictures of you and Willie May pushing that shopping cart down the block on the dead run, or trying to slide that color TV into a stolen ambulance.
NBC will not be able predict the winner at 8:32 on reports from 29 districts.
The revolution will not be televised.

There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down brothers on the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of Whitney Young being run out of Harlem on a rail with a brand new process.
There will be no slow motion or still life of Roy Wilkens strolling through Watts in a red, black and green liberation jumpsuit that he had been saving for just the right occasion.

Green Acres, The Beverly Hillbillies, and Hooterville Junction will no longer be so god damned relevant, and women will not care if Dick finally screwed Jane on Search for Tomorrow because black people will be in the street looking for a brighter day.
The revolution will not be televised.

There will be no highlights on the eleven o'clock news, and no pictures of hairy armed women liberationists and Jackie Onassis blowing her nose.
The theme song will not be written by Jim Webb or Francis Scott Key, nor sung by Glen Campbell, Tom Jones, Johnny Cash or Englebert Humperdink.
The revolution will not be televised.

The revolution will not be right back after a message about a white tornado, white lightning, or white people.
You will not have to worry about a dove in your bedroom, a tiger in your tank, or the giant in your toilet bowl.
The revolution will not go better with Coke.
The revolution will not fight the germs that may cause bad breath.
The revolution will put you in the driver's seat.

The revolution will not be televised, will not be televised, will not be televised, will not be televised.
The revolution will be no re-run brothers.
The revolution will be live.