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
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
He became the father of human rights
So Martin could be raised a Garveyites
Creating African-American civil-rights
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