"The Apple Woman's Complaint"

From Constab Ballads


Apple Tray

While me deh walk ‘long in de street,
Policeman’s yawnin’ on his beat;
An’ dis de wud him chiefta’n say—
Me mus’n car’ me apple-tray.

Ef me no wuk, me boun’ fe tief ;
S’pose dat will please de police chief!
De prison dem mus’ be wan’ full,
Mek dem’s ‘pon we like ravin’ bull.

Black nigger wukin’ laka cow
An’ wipin’ sweat-drops from him brow,
Dough him is dyin’ sake o’ need,
P’lice an’ dem headman boun’ fe feed.

P’lice an’ dem headman gamble too,
Dey shuffle card an’ bet fe true;
Yet ef me Charlie gamble,—well,
Dem try fe ‘queeze him laka hell.

De headman fe de town police
Mind neber know a little peace,
‘Cep’ when him an’ him heartless ban’
Hab sufferinn’ nigger in dem han’.

Ah son-son! dough you’re bastard, yah,
An’ dere’s no one you can call pa,
Jes’ try to ha’ you’ mudder’s min’
An’ Police Force you’ll neber jine.

But how judge believe policemen,
Dem dutty mout’ wid lyin’ stain’?
While we go batterin’ along
Dem doin’ we all sort o’ wrong.

We hab fe barter-out we soul
To lib t’rough dis ungodly wul’;—
O massa Jesus! don't you see
How police is oppressin’ we?

Dem wan’ fe see we in de street
Dah foller dem all ‘pon dem beat;
An’ after, ‘dout a drop o’ shame,
Say we be’n dah solicit dem.

Ah massa Jesus! in you’ love
Jes’ look do’n from you’ t’rone above,
An’ show me how a poo’ weak gal
Can lib good life in dis ya wul’.


Wayne Cooper writes, ““McKay’s best dialect poems by far are those that vividly portray the island’s poor and the difficulties under which they lived” (Cooper, 42). “The Apple Woman’s Complaint” accomplishes exactly that. In the poem, a policeman insists that a woman selling apples must carry her apple tray, instead of resting it on the ground. This causes the apple woman to vehemently protest: “she complains about the fundamental injustice of the situation, about the rank hypocrisy of the constabulary, and about the perverse pleasure that the head of the Kingston police gets from the gratuitous persecution of poor black people” (James, 107). She objects,

Ef me no wuk, me boun’ fe tief;
S’pose dat will please de police chief!
De prison dem mus’ be wan’ full,
Mek dem’s ‘pon we like ravin’ bull.

The apple woman argues that she cannot carry her apple tray. If she cannot carry her tray, she cannot work. If she cannot work, she “boun’ fe tief,” that is, she is bound to turn to thievery. She reveals the inescapably cyclical nature of the relationship between the constabulary and the peasantry; the police enforce laws that lead to conditions that foster lawlessness. As Winston James notes, “It is the complaint of the powerless, the heedless voice of one of the little people, the wailing of the condemned. And she feels doomed. She is desperate” (James, 108). The apple woman “feels doomed” because she is doomed; she, like the policeman, is caught in this cyclic pattern.

James claims, “In these eighty-eight poems [of Songs of Jamaica and Constab Ballads], McKay’s lifelong concern with race, color, class, justice and injustice, oppression and revolt are all given expression” (James, 56). These concerns are reflected in “The Apple Woman’s Complaint.” The apple woman rails,

We hab fe barter-out we soul
To lib t’rough dis ungodly wul’;—
O massa Jesus! don’t you see
How police is oppressinn’ we?

She cries out to Jesus for help, because she knows she cannot turn to any authority figures. McKay, who was at once a poet and a constable, is uniquely qualified to comment on Jamaican social injustice. Cooper remarks, “McKay’s stint with the constabulary had brought him face to face with the injustices of Jamaican social life and the daily tensions, frustrations, and pain they engendered” (Cooper, 42). This perspective enables McKay to write earnestly about the Jamaican peasantry. Like “The Midnight Woman to the Bobby,” the speaker and central figure of this poem is a woman of the Jamaican peasant class, and the addressee is a constable. Both womens’ “rapier wit, iconic awareness, and telling phrases conveyed the real vitality of the Jamaican dialect and the Jamaican common folk” (Cooper, 43). In many of the poems in Songs of Jamaica and Constab Ballads McKay adopts the persona of a member of the Jamaican peasantry. Cooper notes, “McKay wrote from the perspective of a black Jamaican of rural, peasant origins. To a greater degree than prior West Indian poets, he clearly revealed in his dialect poetry the intellectual, social, and cultural contradictions that faced a perceptive black artist in British colonial Jamaica” (Cooper, 36). McKay’s “The Apple Woman’s Complaint” at once expresses these concerns, and reveals McKay’s gift for vital and authentic representations of “Jamaican common folk.”

"Cotch Donkey"

From Constab Ballads


A "Cotch Donkey"

Ko how de jackass
Lay do’n in de road;
An’ him ondly car’
Little bit o’ load.

Kue, jackass, git up!
‘Tan’ up ‘pon you’ foot!
Dis ya load no load,
You’s a lazy brut’.

Me no know wha’ mek
Pa won’ swop you too;
For dere’s not a t’ing
Wut while you can do.

Ef you car’ no load,
It is all de same;
Hamper on or no,
‘Tis de ushal game.

Policeman a come
Fe go mek a row,
All because o’ you
Wid you’ wutless now.

“See ya, Sah, no min’,
Dis a fe me luck;
De jackass is bad,
Him no wan’ fe wuk.

“ ‘Tek de hamper off?’
Him no hab no cut:
Me de tell you say
De jackass no wut.

“Lard! me Gahd o’ me!
Him got one lee ‘cratch:
Dat is not’in’, Sah,
For him always cotch.

Do, Sah, let me off,
Ef fe te-day one ;
For a no de ‘cratch
Cause him fe lay do’n.”

Now because o’ you
Dem gone bring me up;
An’ wha’ hu’t me mos’,
You caan’ wuk a tup .

Ef dem summons me,
Mek me pay few mac,
Dat caan’ mek me ‘top
Wuk you wid sore back.



“Cotch Donkey” is the first piece of dialect poetry that Claude McKay showed to his mentor, Walter Jekyll. It was the only dialect piece he included with a portfolio of standard English poetry, and it was the only one that Jekyll felt was authentic. Although McKay was apprehensive about showing Jekyll the piece, Jekyll responded, ““this is the real thing. The Jamaican dialect has never been put into literary form except in my Annancy stories. Now is your chance as a native boy to put the Jamaica dialect into literary language” (Jenkins, 15). A simple poem about an obstinate donkey, “Cotch Donkey,” and Jekyll’s response to it, gave McKay the encouragement to write poetry in a language considered inferior or base. McKay himself thought his native language to be unworthy of a poetic form until his mentor encouraged him to explore an untested form of expression. Yet his pioneering poems like “Cotch Donkey” opened up paths for subsequent West Indian poets to follow and to further explore; for the first time, Jamaican dialect was used as a legitimate poetic form. Winston James writes, “[Premier Jamaican poet Louise] Bennett said it was “thrilling” to see the language in print…McKay’s early writing “reinforced Bennett’s love of her primary language”” (James, 140). McKay made writing in Jamaican dialect acceptable; “Cotch Donkey” was the first of eighty-eight dialect poems that opened the barred gates for other Jamaican poets. James comments that, “it is because of McKay that Bennett and others have been able to supersede him—in form, if not in thought” (James, 151).

"The Heart Of A Constab"

From Constab Ballads



A Constable's Hat

‘Tis hatred without an’ ‘tis hatred within,
An’ I am so weary an’ sad;
For all t’rough de tempest o’ terrible strife
Dere’s not’in to make poor me glad.

Oh! where are de faces I loved in de past,
De frien’s dat I used to hold dear?
Oh say, have day all turned away from me now
Becausen de red seam I wear?

I foolishly wandered away from dem all
To dis life of anguish an’ woe,
Where I mus’ be hard on me own kith an’ kin,
And even to frien’ mus’ prove foe.

Oh! what have I gained from my too too rash act
O’ joinin’ a hard Constab Force,
Save quenchin’ me thirst from a vinegar cup,
De vinegar cup o’ remorse?

I t’ought of livin’ o’ pure honest toil,
To keep up dis slow-ebbin’ breath;
But no, de life surely is bendin’ me do’n,
Is bendin’ me do’n to de death.

‘Tis grievous to think dat, while toilin’ on here,
My people won’t love me again,
My people, my people, me owna black skin,—
De wretched t’ought gives me such pain.

But I’ll leave it, my people, an’ come back to you,
I’ll flee from de grief an’ turmoil;
I’ll leave it, though flow’rs here should line my path yet,
An’ come back to you an’ de soil.

For ‘tis hatred without an’ ‘tis hatred within,
An’ how can I live, ‘douten heart?
Then oh for de country, de love o’ me soul,
From which I shall nevermore part!



In “The Heart of a Constab,” McKay expresses his displeasure with being a constable; “the policeman narrator sorrowfully and regretfully reflects upon the heavy personal price he has paid for joining the force” (James, 73). McKay feels he has, in essence, turned traitor on his own people by becoming an instrument of the British colonists. He asks,

Oh! where are de faces I loved in de past,
De frien’s dat I used to hold dear?
Oh say, have day all turned away from me now
Becausen de red seam I wear?

He wonders, have his friends and his own dismissed him for a deserter because he wears the red seam of a constable? James notes that McKay “feels the pain of his rejection by those whom he regards as his people; he hates the fact that he has effectively betrayed them” (James, 73). He feels animosity from both sides: “’Tis hatred without an’ ‘tis hatred within,” from both the white officers of the constabulary and from his beloved Jamaican peasant class. He expresses a fervent wish to return to his peasant roots, to live “o’ pure honest toil,” but his service in the police force is “bendin’ me do’n to de death.”

Many of McKay’s dialect poems are narrated from the prospective of a member of the peasant class; “A Midnight Woman to the Bobby,” “The Apple Woman’s Complaint,” and “Cotch Donkey” are all examples of the peasant voice in McKay’s poems. In “The Heart of a Constab,” however, McKay assumes a different perspective: his own. He resolves to return to the soil, to his peasant beginnings, to his people, and his true Jamaica:

But I’ll leave it, my people, an’ come back to you,
I’ll flee from de grief an’ turmoil;
I’ll leave it, though flow’rs here should line my path yet,
An’ come back to you an’ de soil.

McKay did leave the constabulary early and came “back…to de soil;” although he enlisted for five years, after only seventeen months, McKay left the constabulary and returned to his home in Clarendon. McKay’s “Heart of a Constab” reveals McKay’s own heart. Wayne Cooper states, “No island poet had ever spoken so directly or at such length of his basic identity as a black man, a peasant, and a Jamaican. As he was to do so often in his life, McKay addressed himself directly in this early poetry to the deeply personal problems of alienation and identity” (Cooper, 43). It is this candor, sincerity, and unequivocal devotion to his country and his people that distinguishes McKay as a son of Jamaica and Jamaican poet who would inspire other Jamaican poets to embrace their land, their people, and their language.