Poem by Mr Gee dedicated to Martin Luther King jnr. Performed Live at the Sydney Opera House.
Poet & Radio Presenter Mr Gee:
Presented BBC Radio 4's "Rhyme & Reason", "Bespoken Word" & 'Poetic Justice"
Starred as "the poet" for the West End run of "Into the Hoods"
Was the "poet laureate" for Russell Brand's SONY Award winning Radio Show (yes I was there during "Sachsgate")
Supported Russell Brand on the "Messiah Complex" tour (first performance poet to do a set at the O2, in front of 17,000 people!),
Had a cameo role in the film "Get Him To The Greek"
Writes current affairs poems for BBC regional radio & is a regular contributor for National Prison Radio.
"A charming and politically articulate street poet” - The Times
Russell Brand Podcast poems: http://genius.com/albums/Mr...
Go Tell it on the Mountain
I caught the falling feathers of an angel’s wing,
And I wanted it tattooed upon my spine,
Now you can call me a scavenger or a demonic thing,
Who cares for names if I can fly?
Who cares for names if I can rise?
Beyond the frame of gazing eyes,
Beyond the foot of this historic mountain,
Which casts a haze upon my life,
You know it’s impacting how I’m living,
You know it’s exact & unforgiving,
It traps my soul within a box,
And holds a lock to my upliftment,
I just wanna float away so high,
I just wanna break the colour lines,
Break the minimum wage & slavery,
Break the canons guns & knives,
That I can escape the prison time,
Escape the trips to courtroom trials,
Rewind the school exclusions,
When Daddy leaves & Mummy cries,
Am I wrong to want to escape this plight?
These angel wings give me insight,
To levitate my mental state,
& leave these shackles far behind,
But falling wings leave scattered feathers,
And I tried my best to just collect them,
But they were spread oh-so far apart,
To unite them all would take forever,
So I gathered just what I could,
Looked to the skies from where I stood,
That I could leave behind this mountain,
Behind this city, behind this ‘hood,
Behind this street, Behind this road,
Behind a past that leaves me cold,
I’ll fly so high that they’ll never find me,
And I’ll never go back to the days of old,
But as I flap & flap & flap,
There are no wings upon my back,
There is no magical elevation,
And my puppet strings are still attached,
I raise my eyes up to the sky,
Way beyond this mountain high,
I look to the heavens to just ask why,
This world won’t get off my back & let me fly,
I’m stuck at the bottom with my regrets,
With the single feather that I now possess,
One day I’ll reach that mountain-top,
But I’ll have to do it…. Step by step.
(c) Mr Gee