Fri | Dec 9, 2016

Poems

Published:Sunday | March 15, 2015 | 12:00 AM

 

Beauty at the Bus Stop

 

At the bus stop was where she stood

Like a superstar the wind blew her long, wavy hair

As the sunlight enhance her face I just stood in amazement

Her independent stance attracted me like magnet.

She removes her glasses and shows her pretty brown eyes

The pain of her beauty puts wrinkles into my face

Angrily, I make a withdrawal sound with my mouth

She seems to be teasing me without noticing my presence.

I wonder to myself while observing my immediate environment

Discovering in the process I was not the only admirer

A diamond like that is a one in a life time catch

Not willing to lose my chance nervously one foot goes forward.

As I am being watched by competitors I walk quickly

Approaching the sunshine I am blinded by beauty once again

Angrily, I turn from my target

With disappointment in my eyes, I shake my head

Brushing nothing off my nose I look up again

Confidently I smile to regain my strength

Seeing her again I feel much stronger

I allow some minutes to pass as the disappointing smoke fades.

I now control my environment and block out all scrutiny

Repeatedly I walk towards her, this time proud and happy

What I said was rather funny, but yet, charming

With a plain face I awaited my response.

It was slow, however, I appreciated the bright smile that came before

"Really now" was what she said

Looking straight into her eyes

Respectfully and with a complete smile I said "Yes."

- Terence Thompson Jr.

 

The Trailer Driver

 

See it coming,

Stand and stare,

Powerful engine, twenty wheels: count them,

Four at the front: sixteen at the back,

Name it: LEYLAND, ATKINSON, COMMER, FARGO, GOLIATH.

Tortuously winding through the interior of Jamaica,

Delivering Red Stripe, cement, steel and Pepsi Cola.

His Licence gained is no fluke; driving this monster is no joke.

Watch him now, pedal to metal: day's delivery done,

A deep growl from the horn demands passage,

A sign looms; tight corner DEAD AHEAD

Onlookers riveted: but this man lick him head!

At the appropriate time his experience came into play,

Time to maaga-down !

Time to parade his competence !

Flurry of hands and feet, synchromeshed rhythm practised

Ninety degrees left-hand arc, bearing hard,

Experienced eye calculates, adds and subtracts,

Big wheels turning on a sixpence and giving some change

Air brakes hissed and protested,

But she comes through UNHESITATINGLY as expected.

A no nutten!

Man and machine forging motion to poetry,

He struts his stuff as he has been doing it forever,

Such is the awe that is due, for he is the consummate Trailer Driver.

- A.N. Wilson

 

Reggae Month

 

Our island

Rich with history

Though still a mystery

To the average man by his fruit stand

Blood was shed

Nanny fought well

We don't need William Tell

Her legend is well documented

Marcus strived

He became the father of human rights

So Martin could be raised a Garveyites

Creating African-American civil-rights

The result

February being Black History Month

Fitting for a nation with its population

Having marginalisation for its black generation

Not a necessitation for a Jamaican celebration

We lack the humiliation of racial segregation

And heroes propagation of White authentication

Bob, Peter, Dennis

Just to name a few of our musical menace

Highlighting our ancestors promise

That colour freedom remains in our wisdom

Heard throughout the music

Express with love so we won't lose it

The roots, the truth, the beat

One Drop, makes you move your feet

While stimulating your mind

Revealing your consciousness inside

A product of the Jamaican pride

That is why

We should celebrate Jamaican style

And let Reggae Month be our guide.

- Taelor Lyn

Act like it!

 

Act like you are an intelligent person,

Stop this fooling around.

You know you are better than that,

Take your reputation off the ground.

You won't realise how much these words are worth,

Girl, I have been there too.

I know what its like to be afraid

And everybody think they can use you.

Recognise your value little girl

Lift your head with confidence

Their careless words don't define you

Learn from your mistakes, have sense

Act like you know what pressure is

You have been here before.

Understand your true potential

I know you can do so much more.

Let them not drag you on the gully banks

You have no place down there.

Do you want to live or be like them

In their squalor and disgust share?

Small-minded, emptiness, misery

Replaced with hope anew

They will try everything to tear you down

But no one is better than you.

Tap into your creativity

Examine God's plans for you

Let not their chatting derail you

Instead, be propelled to greatness

Act, you already know what to do

God is going use you, powerful will you be

You will go very far,

You are already God's brightest star,

Be the change you want to see!

- Simone P. Graham

 

Virgin Sea Tourist

 

Sitting tamely awaiting a course all too familiar.

Sheer giant in its composition, melting previous phobias.

Maneuvering fear as a captain does his stern.

Departing the realm of dreams, embarking on quenching a closed eye fantasy.

Its funny how I dreamt it, yet never conceived it.

Envisioned it, yet never really seen it.

Anxiety replaces curiosity, likewise eagerness.

An ear shattering horn signals the commencement of the journey.

As the hour glass loses sand with time, inch by inch further from the sands we draw.

Gently gliding atop the surface, as a shower of euphoria engulfs the body of the vessel.

The atmosphere in the night an obvious twin of the daylight.

Rainbow of cultures abroad lends itself to the to fulfilling experience.

Waiters' courteously serve up meals, while the vessel endlessly serves up exciting moments.

The festive season fully appreciated within the confines of the vessels,

Detaining previous frustrations with work and school,

Emitting breathtaking experiences to supplement happiness and compliment relaxation.

A carpet of sand, welcomes the vessels and explorers alike,

An invention that promotes fascination, fuels admiration and prolongs the intriguing experience.

The floating paradise halts to a conclusion,

Fulfilling the appetite for relaxation and fun.

Curtains are drawn on an adventure worthy of being relived time, after time, after time.

There's nothing like the first time!

- Victor Powell