My Poetry

1. Hope lingers still

Yes! Hope lingers still

For never was the sky more blue.

Bales of cotton floating by

Lighten the spirit; seduce the mind.

Across the ash pale road

A hummingbird flaps its wings enchantingly

Flitting from one full red hibiscus to pink.

Listen – the gentle breeze bears a melody,

A joyful whistled tune.

Children’s laughter fill the air. Butterflies float

Like bubbles in the breeze

And I sing!

Yes! Hope lingers still

For somewhere

the sun glows

on lovers in a park.

                                       2. Treasure your fields

 

Treasure your fields.

Protect your rivers and lands.

Let your sons, though nameless, reign

With pride of place.

 

Don’t be numbered among those

Who assemble to conspire

Against the beasts and the trees

thinking only of gastronomic joy.

 

There are greater pitfalls

than a betrayed stomach

so, beware of acts concerning bread

that steal the gifts of God.

 

Have you not heard

That multitudes were made speechless

And great lands became bare

With instruments of deceit buried in baskets of favour?  

3. The bookshelf

Eight feet by five feet. 

Ten rectangular spaces.

dirty and cobbwebbed

a carpenter's shame

the philosopher's pride

it energises our world.

Facts for the richer;

tales for the hungry.

Spines cry.

The fifteen-minute money manager

with his politics of empire

sets up super powers in crisis.

The youth glance and cringe.

The bookshelf does not know

how children of the earth

raised on effective budgeting, 

fire tight budgets, scarce money management

weaned on banking and finance

practice free speech. 

It will never know how they handle their REAL estate!

How they wince from the glare of religion, 

stumble in the wake of politics,

show there is no social justice in technology.

Live the ageless story:

the sun rises on feudalism

and sets on truth.

Does this bookshelf show

the youth wonder about

the meaning of equality?

hold a perspective on strikes?

refuse to shrivel in the arena

of the pale horse?

This bookshelf should show

how the youth guard their  weapons - hot disc and mike

like a bitch with pups

how they create files 

wielding them relentlessly 

gainst long table people 

served platters of geographic stew.

Yes, let the bookshelf show

what the youth know

and how they express with sincerity

their dreams for prosperity.

4. Words Stick

While you can walk,

Move among trees

Touch leaves

Embrace the thickest trunks

Fill your lungs with the fragrance of flowers.

While you can see,

Pause for the rainbow

And clusters of stars

A child’s admiring look

at a picture book 

and a bird in flight.

While you can talk,

Speak for the struggling

Praise the Almighty

Tell stories of faith and favour

remember …

words stick.

5. Gems in the Wilderness

I swear

Concubines bear

Daughters

Delivered in servitude.

Questioning their identity,

Their inheritance.

Yet

Giving names of Hope

Like magical words to

Break the day.

Names to keep pain from maturing,

Names to set

Gems in the wilderness.

Hope for more water than fire

And only good ears.

Hope for sacrificial cleansing.

Names to keep them

From falling for

The seed of Pharaoh

And the stone of promise.

I swear.

6. My daughter doesn’t call

 

My daughter doesn’t call, you know.

She dribbles with her sons

She braids her daughter’s hair

While I wonder what mother

Could answer her mother’s prayer like that.

My daughter doesn’t call, you know

And I did everything for her.

 

I sold my time to keep her fed

I sold my time while she lay in bed

I can’t imagine what I did

To make us so divided.

I pulled her up and dressed her loud

Selling my time to make her proud

I wrinkled my hands

And blistered my feet.

All the time she was playing,

I went out of my way for her.

But she never calls, you know.

 

She never shares her time with me

Though I sold all my time for her.

                                               7. Kiss your sons with favour

 

Kiss your sons with favour.

Shield them for life.

Kiss your sons like a lion cleans the young lion of secret faults.

Turn their faces to danger.

Strengthen them with the scent of your sweat

To choose answers that are just

To sing and not be silent

To walk through the rain

And be counted.

Kiss your sons with favour

So they desire love

And reward you with good days

To make you rise.

8. What colour!

 

What colour is the joy of birth,

faith, a mother's prayer?

Whose colour is a baby's smile,

love, a touch of tender care?

What colour is a brother's hate

shame, the stroke of pain?

Whose shade is a trust betrayed

loss, the stain of fear?

God placed the rainbow in the sky _

note its symmetry

it blends true colours from on high

that mortals all may see:

These colours have the same design

no form or substance better

a fading time; season to shine

fickle breath; mere matter.

(This poem won the UNESCO Antigua and Barbuda Teachers’ Poetry Competition in 2005)

9. The Flamboyant Tree

Some time ago I saw that tree.

Nothing flamboyant was there.

The trunk was brown; the branches bare

It was an offence to me.

 

Then the loving showers came.

I looked again.

Suddenly,

I saw what it was meant to be:

Flora of flamboyant beauty.

10. Choice remains

However, choice remains.

You can choose to buy another Rolex

Or wrap gifts for timid smiles

From the tender and the meek.

 

You can buy a jet

riding miles of the planet.

Or you can take a boy’s hands

To keep him on track

 

You can mimic the serpent;

Spread chaos and dismay

Or you can pause for a stranger

And help her on her way.

 

You can dream alone

Or take the world along.

It’s your choice;

Your parting song.