Barbara Jane Reyes
[from For the City that Nearly Broke Me]
After Bob Marley
The indio who carved me knew the drum and the heart are one.
He knew the song for hunting, the waiting song, the calling song.
He knew the song for planting, the song of earth's open hand.
He knew the song for walking, the river water song.
Buffalo Soldier, Carabao Brother,
Stolen from the Americas, brought to the islands,
Sharpening machete, crouching in the jungle,
Born into slavery, son of revolution.
I will teach you the song to break your iron shackles.
I will teach you the elders' war song, the bolo knife in fist song.
I will teach you the song of flight, the song of purging demons.
I will teach you the song for healing, the song of lighting fires.
Buffalo Soldier, Carabao Brother,
Zambo, Mulatto, war cry in Tagalog,
Sharpening machete, crouching in the jungle,
From the hands of the Indios, to the heart of Katipunan.
Dear Manong Al,
Wandering, rappin prophet,
Come down to the city from Ifugao Mountain,
Drive your carabao, Poet Lakay,
Alongside Roxas Boulevard jeepneys.
Manileños may point and laugh,
your black betel teeth, eagle, lightning tattoos.
Kolehiyalas will cover pale faces
when your carabao twitches its nostrils.
where the Pasig River opens its mouth,
Raise a gourd of tapuy,
Lay the black boar at its banks.
Heal this river! Let it suffer no longer!
Heal this river! Ancestors hear me!
And in a changed voice, poems will flow.