Crawling Backwards

This one is a practice and an experiment, albeit a poor one, trying to emulate the style of Amiri Baraka as seen in his poem Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note. Though to be honest I don't fully understand his stylistic methods and why his poetry is as popular as it is.  Perhaps through more analysis (I only looked over a few for about 20 minutes) I will come to have a better understanding and then could emulate it better.  This was done at my brother Craig's suggestion.  I tried to copy the brevity and seeming wandering of his power while still giving out a strong message.  I stuck to the same stanza divisions of 5.1.4.1.5.1 and more or less no rhyme scheme.  I hope it is a fruitful effort however I feel disappointment in it.  His poetry just doesn't really speak to me very loudly or with much import or power.
Anyways here is the poem...

Lately, In the course of days,
I’ve learned to walk,
Not forward like other men,
But along the shattered path,
Incoherent dreams are made.

What else is left.

Crawling backwards each day,
What else now is there to say?
The stars are rents in oppression,
Little dots piercing my depression.

Perhaps I’ll sing Again.

In my soul there once was song.
As I now can not sing.
But today I heard the voice,
Of my old teacher, soft,
As if singing, all and all alone.

Mocking bird’s solo.