Linton is one of a triumvirate of poets that opened my eyes to poetry and made me see that it was not all Keats, Shelley, and Byron and that it could connect and resonate with me. In his case, he was aided by the fact that he put his poetry to a dub reggae backing track, and when I found him back in 1979 and the release of Forces of Victory, I saw poetry no longer as the realm of the white aristocracy. You can find out lost more about him on his website.
It was many years before I got to see him perform live, and he still had that magical captivation. A few years back, before the Windrush scandal broke in the UK, I wrote to him with a poem I had written about that enriching emigration that caused those travellers to suffer so much wrongdoing. He wrote back, telling me how much he liked a particular line and gave me some great advice – I can still feel the smile on my face as I read his words.
Tribute
When them set sail on Empire Windrush
Them leave behind sun, sea and sand
Yes, them set forth upon Windrush,
Them a tropical collection of hands,
When all them set foot on Windrush;
Next stop, the promised Motherland
So, them all on board Empire Windrush
All four hundred and ninety-two folk
Them find plenty of space aboard Windrush
That cruise ship, she was a big boat
And them all nice and safe on Windrush
German built, through war she did float
Twenty-eight pounds them pay on Windrush
For a ticket, to a new world to see
From May 24th on board Windrush
Them sail on the wide-open sea
30 days them did sailing with Windrush
British citizens, happy and free
At Tilbury men moor Empire Windrush
But them could not leave for one day
For the men who tried to sink Windrush
Really did not, want them, to stay,
But they let down the gangplank of Windrush,
And on England, a new colour them spray
They feared a tide coming in with Windrush
A tide that would never turn back
Though they wanted the skills on the Windrush
They feared they were under attack
So, when them left them beds on Windrush
The hotels said no Irish, no dogs and no Blacks
There were stars and heroes on Windrush
Lord Kitchener, Mona Baptiste and Sam Beaver King
Them were willing to work aboard Windrush
But in Blighty that were a frightening thing
Them sang Calypsos in sunshine on Windrush
In England, in rain, blues they would sing
Some paid, some stowaway on Empire Windrush
Them seek a new life to arrange
A generation debarked from Windrush
In zoot suits and bright ties, them look strange
And the black that was carried on Windrush
The red, white and blue it would change
At the time of the docking of Windrush
Back in, nineteen, forty-eight
They wanted them to board Windrush
O’l England was a terrible state
But the grandchildren of generation Windrush
To this day, every day, them face hate
It’s seventy long years since Windrush
For some, a lifetime has passed
There’s a legacy that came with Windrush
And every one of its incredible cast
Though them struggled who came on Windrush
Them contribution, like black granite, will last
Them were fighters that walked offa Windrush
Them came to make a home of them own
Those brave men and women of Windrush
Them refused to ever bow down
That bulldog spirit on Empire Windrush
Should be welcome in every city and town
To the poets and musicians on Windrush
To the cooks, barbers and tailors too
I say to the generations of Windrush
Whatever life lead you to do
I’m glad you came over on Windrush
Them enriched my life, to them, I pay tribute
Graham Parker's Poetry 