Fri | Sep 22, 2017

Poems

Published:Sunday | November 1, 2015 | 11:00 AM

My baby is dead

 

My baby is dead

I got her

While carrying her

It was upsetting

To see the colour purple

It was upsetting to smell

some odours around me.

I suffered

I vomited

I fainted

I rode on buses

That dropped in various

potholes

While standing all the way

to my destination

I talked to her while she

turned in my womb

I cried

I wiggled

I screamed

While I laboured to bring

her into this world

Frightened to see the light

of this world

She cried bitterly

I smiled to see God's

beautiful creation.

Now she is dead

And no one in hospital

is responsible

How can 19 babies

die?

And no one is

responsible?

My belly is turning

My belly is burning

No one is responsible

- V . O . Ricketts

 

Service, please

 

Lady at the counter,

Selling services and goods

You know, you are not polite or behaving as you should

When I come to purchase

I need attention first

Don't have me waiting while you yap on the phone

Even if it's with your beau

I don't care, let him call back or hold

Lady at the counter,

Be polite with actions and words

Don't behave as if I disturb you

Don't roll or cast your eyes, akimbo or seem as if to do your

work you tire

When I ask you things in English, answer in English, please

Don't get all expressive and roll out dialect or backyard

language at me

Lady at the counter,

Times are much too hard

Try to make me feel as if the money spent, I can't resist

The goods seem sometimes overpriced

But please note that this is true

If you give polite service, I would buy the goods from you

To pave the way for my return

Dismiss me with a pleasant smile and show that you really care

To see that I am satisfied.

- Sandra Grant Manderson, aka Mandege