"Bruddas! Rise up for Julian Assange" by Benjamin Zephyr Zodiac

Yesterday evening I attended the Bedford Park Festival's annual poetry-reading event at St Michael and All Angels Church. This climaxed with the former Poet Laureate, Andrew Motion, reading some of his latest, unpublished work. I remember thinking how blessed we, the crème de la crème of West London's cultural elite (at least, those of us willing to stump up the £7.50 entrance fee) were to be pesent at such a significant cultural event.

The excitement created by Andrew Motion's performance could only have been equalled by, at most,  four other living poets: our current Poetess Laureate, the professional lesbian and single parent, Carol Ann Duffy; that scourge of Israel, Ulsterman Tom Paulin; grizzled Celtic bard, Seamus Heaney; and, last but certainly not least, the dreadlocked genius whose  compassionate hatred, profound political insight, contempt for all poetic norms and ability to tap directly into the "Psyche of The Street" has made him the natural spokesman for all of oppressed humanity - the People's Poet Laureate, Benjamin Zephyr Zodiac.

I was just wondering whether Benny (as I call him, although he doesn't like it) was one of the noble celebrities who've just seen their £20,000 contribution to Julian Assange's bail fund go up in smoke, when - and this really is an extraordinary example of Jungian synchronicity at work - what should pop up in the form of a comment on one of my recent posts (how typically humble) than the Great Man's latest masterpiece, positively steaming off the press. And what should it prove to be about but.. dear, dear Julian himself!

I am honoured to be able to reprint the poem here:

Bruddas! Rise up for Julian Assange
Him drinkin' coffee in the Paraguayan Embassy with him ass in so much danger
Fo him give us all de secret info' mashun, to expose discriminashun,
In each n' every nashun
We gwan turn de stream of protest into a raging torrent
Against da inick...inicqu...wickidness of the European Arrest Warrant
For his fate, each Rasta heart must be bleedin'
To stop him being sent in Club Class on a plane back to Sweden
Da trump up charge relate to him lowering him britches
And not show nuff respeck when trying it on wiv da Swedish sistahs
Now, me say, s'pose each time me went and got me c*** home
Dat me face da extradishun back to Stockholm?
Well, dis Rasta gwan be a bit mo' cautious
Before me have Scandinavian discussions in da back of one of me Porsches
But him really arrested for Wiki-leaking da secret telegram
And now him facin' electric shockin' like in da experiments of Stanley Milgram
Cos bruddas, dis is justice American-style
Where every minority like Jools and I n' I gwan face a pig- circus show trial
From da persecushun of Geronimo to the torture chambahs of Guantanamo,
To the extraditin' of this manky haired freaky-weird Australian Albino
Dis is de way the river of justice gwan flow
Til we rise an' overthrow and then capitalism is gwan go
Tumblin',
Like a row
Of dominos
And de mighty wind of Ja Rastafari
Gwan blow
Til it become a tornado!
Raas Claat, Bludd!!! 

As so often when confronted by Benny's poetry, words fail me. And I think it would be unkind to point out that he appears to have got Ecuador and Paraguay mixed up: I'm sure it's a deliberately mischievous ploy to demonstrate his utter contempt for what "The Man" would regard as "facts". 

Raas Claat, Bludd, indeed.