Talk about poetic justice

BENJAMIN ZEPHANIAH: may have been expelled from school at 13 but he is one of modern Britain's angriest and loudest poetic voices.

The Birmingham-born, Jamaican-influenced oral poet on his 12th trip to India, performed in Mumbai, courtesy the British Council, to a very responsive audience.

Every time he threw his dreadlocked head back and guffawed, the audience would guffaw with him. His charm was sexually loaded but offended no one. His words drew encores, three times over.

Earlier that day, as he stretched himself lazily across a sofa in his hotel lobby, he struggled to draw on energy reserves to enable conversation.

He was also battling a cold and laughed when someone suggested a hot lemon and honey remedy. "I just ate an extra spicy chana batura instead," he says, "It's the George Bush technique of shock 'n' awe; stun those bacteria", and guffaws again.

George Bush and Tony Blair are current punching bags. It's too tempting, although superfluous, to ask him why he contentiously refused the OBE. Didn't some perceive that as a lack of graciousness?

After all, the same establishment he ranted about was offering him the hand of conciliation. He looks a shade annoyed, "Have you read my poetry? I wrote about black people selling out when they accepted OBEs, before I ever was offered one." And then, "I don't like explaining stuff ..."

Dis poetry is not Party Political
Not designed fe dose who are critical.
Dis poetry is wid me when I gu to me bed
It gets into me dreadlocks
It lingers around me head
Dis poetry goes wid me as I pedal me bike
I've tried Shakespeare, respect due dere
But did is de stuff I like.

The Birmingham drawl shifts to Jamaican sing-song when he performs. His poetry is drawn from Jamaican music traditions and there is a distinct crossover with rap. The language is stripped bare of all pretensions, the poems short, witty and utterly irreverent.

Zephaniah feels strongly about the oral tradition of literature. "I realised, after my first book, that despite being on the best seller lists, I was not reaching people in the council estates (government housing projects)."

So he pushed the written word down his priority list "" prolific children's novelist and playwright "" and began performing in prisons, theatres, youth clubs, demonstrations ... and more. "Performance poetry in Britain is dominated by women, blacks and gays. Only shows what few avenues they have to publish their work," he adds.

He may give the impression of a pot-smoking free spirit, but his thoughts and words are weighed down with concerns and not just political. He worries about the emerging gun culture among British teenagers and custodial violence. He works with HIV and AIDS causes.

He writes about animal rights issues in detail in Talking Turkeys, his poetry for children. But he is no poseur. "When I see a little bird, I want to ask it what's your family like, or what do you like shopping for. In my life I am going to preserve every form of life that I can," he says.

But call him an activist and he looks embarrassed, "Even a housewife can be an activist by 'activating' her children towards issues and causes," he says. Still, as long as he is heard speaking a distinctively black British voice, and speaking up for the little guy, that's a tag he will just have to live with.

I used to think nurses
Were women,
I used to think police
Were men,
I used to think poets
Were boring,
Until I became one of them.