During the Black Arts movement, there was a lot of poetry written about Malcolm X. I don't know how well a lot of it hold's up. Larry Neal has a beautiful piece called, "The Summer After Malcolm," which I love, mostly because it's love poem for a women, and Malcolm is almost incidental to the piece.
In terms of straight poems about Malcolm, Welton Smith's meditation, anthologized in Black Fire (which my Pops recently republished) is probably my favorite. It isn't without it's problems but those last three lines--"you are not lonely\in my heart there are many\unmarked graves."--killed me when I read them over fifteen years ago. And they still kill me.