Poem of the Week: X.

X.

Raphael Peterson 

X,
The letter representing the unknown,
You made this your name,
You put this in place of the name the slave trader gave you,
   
Little, you are no more, you are much too large, too powerful,
And your soul too unconquerable, you frighten them,
The White man, bedevil for,
They never know what's coming,
   
Always on edge, always uncomfortable,
When the unknown is near, undeniable leader of the black man and woman,
     
 Indomitable fighter of the white devil's oppression,
 And, finally, everlasting spirit of true good,
 You rose from under the ugly weight of hatred,
 Your body is dead,
 But your power is still vast, unmeasurable, unknown
 X.

1999

[An unusual tribute to Malcolm, in that, unlike the two posted earlier this month it was not written in the immediate aftermath of his death. The author, a 16-year-old high school student when he wrote it, first learned of Malcolm X from Spike Lee's film! He got it, though.]