Poems of Resistance and Oppression

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Guyanese Poems

Poems of Resistance and Oppression

"Our history has not prepared us for the encounter with the modern world and this is one reason why discontinuity is the only continuity we know."
Martin Carter

"In this great future, you can't forget your past. So dry your tears I say."

Bob Marley, No woman, No cry

Though the truth to these words is universal, this saying has a special value in every West Indian's heart. As a people, we must not forget those who shaped our country's history. If we forget our history, we will gradually forget ourselves. We must not lose our identity by neglecting those who shaped our countries history. Among those great heroes who shaped the history of Guyana, stands Sir Martin Carter. The impact of Sir Carter's words can never be measured. Carter's poems were more than just a cry for help from our fellow brother and sisters of this world. These precious words were an also encouragement for us to stay firm and united in our fight for independence from the British. This site honors a Guyanese hero who will never be forgotton.


Shines the Beauty of My Darling(1951) If I wanted I could make pictures of night The map of stars above the mass water The mass of water underneath thestars The beauty of my beloved Like a flower bringing dawn lightinto dark. Yes, if I wanted I could close my eyes right now And bring these things like life into my brain. But new are these times And no matter where I turn the fierce revolt goes with me like a kiss The revolt of Malaya And Vietnam The revolt of India And Africa Like guardian. Like guardian at my side Is the fight for freedom - And like the whole world dancing For liberation from the slave maker Shines the beauty of my darling in her laughing eyes.		This Is The Dark Time My Love (1954) This is the dark time, my love all round the land brown beetles crawl about. The shining sun is hidden in the sky Red Flowers bend their heads in awful sorrow. This is the dark time my love. It is the season of oppression, dark metal, and tears It is the festival of guns, the carnival of misery. Everywhere the faces of men are strained and anxious. Who comes walking in the dark night time? Whose boot of steel tramps down the slender grass? It is the man of death, my love, the sstrange invader Watching you sleep and aiming at your dream.

Looking at your Hands (1951) No! I will not still my voice! I have too much to claim -if you see me Looking at books or coming to your house Or walking in the sun Know that I look for fire! I have learnt From books dear friend Or men dreaming and living And hungering in a room without light Who could not die since death was far too poor Who did not sleep to dream, but dreamed to change the world! And so If you see me looking at your hands Listening when you speak Marching in your ranks You must know I do not sleep to dream, but dream to change the world.		Enter content here

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