tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19836501.post115824199620032689..comments2023-10-22T12:21:47.291-04:00Comments on Geoffrey Philp: Happy Birthday, Mikey SmithGeoffrey Philphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13442948340176713964noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19836501.post-84946257976460829182009-09-02T13:20:52.253-04:002009-09-02T13:20:52.253-04:00Welcome, Joseito!
Actually the post was written by...Welcome, Joseito!<br />Actually the post was written by the dub poet Malachi Smith, who now lives and works here is Miami.<br /><br />1Love,<br />GeoffreyGeoffrey Philphttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13442948340176713964noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19836501.post-72157394269690104982009-09-02T13:12:12.957-04:002009-09-02T13:12:12.957-04:00Geoffrey - thanks for this post on Mikey. I grew u...Geoffrey - thanks for this post on Mikey. I grew up in Washington DC , as a first generation Puerto Rican where eventually our community in the city eventually left for the suburbs of Maryland and Virginia. In the late 70s our family eventually did as well. I can't really recall exactly how I came to hear reggae music but for sure not from my friends but my interest peaked thru the radio station WHFS - back in the day when they were commercial free and the djs played what they like and on sundays they played reggae by a man who called himself Dr. Dread - he had the most dryest radio voice ever - a white mon for sure but he sure introduced me to alot of artists (he eventually started RAS records) and styles such dub and the earlier forms of djaying . One night he played Mikey's "Mi Cyaan Believe It" and since I was usually taping his show - well I was really taken by that track - my first encounter with dub poetry and it opened me to how poetry can be transforming as... well WORD, SOUND & POWER! <br />I was now for sure hooked on its imagery and content and the delivery this poets took - LKJ's "Sonny's Letter" is another example. I eventually read about this initial group and of his passing. Many years latter I found his record and recall how when I was young coping with my identity how poets of Jamaician descent expressed themselves in ways I could relate. By the mid 80s I eventually was in a reggae band in DC - composed of members like myself first generation, only they were my Jamaician brothers - <br />That you were in their company and part of that environment and continuing with the work and I look forward to reading your novels.Thank you again for this post and incredible blog. Ache -JoseitoAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19836501.post-1158410553104936652006-09-16T08:42:00.000-04:002006-09-16T08:42:00.000-04:00Dear Indi and Andrene,Mikey was/is--for he lives o...Dear Indi and Andrene,<BR/>Mikey was/is--for he lives on in his words--a great poet of passion for the lives and dignity of the poor.<BR/>And for those sticklers for English only in Jamaica, how else could you describe the horror of the teenemnet--and Jamaica by extension--except by saying, "Mi Cyaan Believe it!"Geoffrey Philphttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13442948340176713964noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19836501.post-1158370538059275742006-09-15T21:35:00.000-04:002006-09-15T21:35:00.000-04:00Malachi—thanks so much for sharing the memory of m...Malachi—thanks so much for sharing the memory of my /our dear friend and fellow writer / actor / activist Mickey Smith. Mi seh mi still cyaan believe it. Michael was a force to be reckoned with. Dem days at drama school wi di just have di drums and the voices that would resonate through the amphitheatre. You could hear Ras Leghorn pan di Akete as you coming up Arthur Wint Drive and Mickey jus a chant. “An dem a beat / An dem a beat / an dem a chant / an dem a chant.” His was a revolutionary voice for change. He was a deep thinker. A voice that challenged us to take a good hard look at the way we measured ourselves against the rest of the world. Such dastardly acts of cruelty must never happen again to our poets let alone at our hands.<BR/><BR/>Andrene BonnerAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19836501.post-1158348841834475822006-09-15T15:34:00.000-04:002006-09-15T15:34:00.000-04:00Hi Mali, I meant to write to you from yesterday t...Hi Mali, <BR/> <BR/>I meant to write to you from yesterday to commend you on that fitting tribute to Mikey Smith in Geoffrey's blog. Its very touching and so we written with all the emotions pouring out...I felt like I was there in the present.<BR/> <BR/>You are so talented and multitasking its not funny. Keep the vibes alive...the rewards will come one day.<BR/> <BR/>God bless<BR/> <BR/>IndiAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19836501.post-1158242884528251142006-09-14T10:08:00.000-04:002006-09-14T10:08:00.000-04:00Geoffrey,I had inadvertently left out a few import...Geoffrey,<BR/>I had inadvertently left out a few important names that must be included because they were all important players in the movement. They are Claudette Richardson, Joe Ruglas, and Nordi who used to pass through frequently to critique and help shape the word sounds. And, of course, mentors Dennis Scott, Tom Cross, Honor Ford Smith, and Lloyd Record.<BR/> <BR/>Also I intend to add what I heard about why and how he died. Basically, the day or sometime in the week before he passed, the member of parliament for the area was visiting her constituency and was addressing a group of citizens. Mikey was in the crowd and he began heckling her saying words to the effect that, "Yuh naa gwaan wid nutten fi help poor people." Members of her entourage didn't like this and threatened Mike on the spot.<BR/> <BR/>The day he was murdered, August 17, 1983, Mikey was walking by this same member of parliament's office when three of her activists who had threatened Mikey saw him and rushed him. Mikey ran and hid into a nearby church, the same church where his funeral service was held. After he thought his pursuers had left, he ventured out the church again and they attacked him again. The second time a rocksone flung by one of his assailants fractured his skull.<BR/> <BR/>His death was even more personal to me because several people thought that it was me who had died. A close friend of my family was in Grand Cayman and heard the news over the radio and called my relatives in New York and Chicago. My aunt who was visiting in Chicago 'dropped down' and ended up in intensive care.<BR/> <BR/>When I saw the sadness on his face lying in his casket, I made a pact with him there and then to carry on the work with more vigor. And, since that day I have performed with more intensity. I also often start my performances with a slow, sad chant, "We are going Heaven knows where we are going, we know we will." I got this from Mikey.Geoffrey Philphttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13442948340176713964noreply@blogger.com