Tribute to Jordan Foote
He sits on the sidelines
With determination in his eyes
Wanting to touch the ball once more and lift his team to victory
His mind is fixed on the ball but his body is failing
In the midst of his pain his eyes remain on the ball
Skilfully manoeuvring the obstacles he flashes a bright smile
"I will be back on the pitch in a little while."
Cancer clouds tried to block his vision
But even when he lost his most valuable tool he still would sit on the pitch with eyes fixed on the ball
I remember being motivated as he took over my television screen
The odds against him, he still had the will to win
The entire nation stood behind him and cheered him on
The clouds grew thicker and cancer would claim the one who captivated us all
Even as his eyes have closed his soul is still fixed on the ball.
Jordan is an inspiration to us all!
His body has failed him but his soul is still here to remind us
To never give up and give it our all
Fighting to the very end with eyes still fixed on the ball
- Saccheen Laing
Ol' Jamaican Bwoy
Yuh memba dem days deh?
When di sun seem fi love yuh sweat,
Or the hours spent on farms, planting and reaping?
The mighty carpenters, building houses for the mass?
Where yuh tink dem get dah strength deh from?
Nuh mus wi grung planted coco, dasheen and yam,
Nowadays pickney just fenkeh-fenkeh,
Take a look at dat!
Gone are the days when tun cornmeal and salt mackerel did ah run the place.
Yuh memba dem days deh?
When we neva know what was a cellular phone,
Ku deh, everyting jus modernised!
Dis iPhone-Samsung a di new in ting,
Gone are the days when wi multipurpose coconut tree did serve,
Ol' clothes unda knee, dry coconut brush inna hand,
Yuh woulda neva get a betta shine dan dat one.
Me is a Ol' Jamaican bwoy,
Missing dat sweet-tasting stinking toe,
Or di days when we mek a likkle bickle;
Like some rundung and mackerel, wid Scotch bonnet peppa,
Not to mention our banana leaf-wrapped blue drawers,
Take a look at dat!
Gone are the days when wi woulda pull out our calabash!
Now is a plate every oda man a wash,
Only the Heaven knows, I miss dem days deh,
Sitting here reminiscing won't get me anywhere,
Because gone are those days,
Now everyting jus modernise!
But what do I know?
Me is jus a Ol' Jamaican bwoy.
- Rodain Richardson
Though an element
With an atomic number of 30
It is the first thing
Seen within my community.
With stains of brown look on
As a step is made
Into this city.
Many have degenerated
That another realm
Can be seen through them.
The basis of identity
For those who reside,
Also the link for privacy.
Each being uniquely designed
The creativity that exists
Through the means of graffiti.
Told tales of war,
Showed its impact.
We have grown
To accept you
Though we long
For a change.
The zinc fence
- Dujan Crossfield
There is hope
When the bills are climbing
And the accounts are declining
When there are no funds to pay
And you are facing a long long day
Trust God as there is hope
When your mother and father say no
And your friends are now your foe
When your boss is causing you pain
And you see no way of gain
Believe God as there is hope
When you see women walking at nights
And everywhere you go there is a fight
When everyone everywhere is crying
And joy is nowhere and there is sighing
Lift up your heads as there is hope
- Hortense Francis
The Winds of Change
Life used to have meaning
But now, I am left gleaning
A change in the wind direction
A seeming loss of affection
No longer has she the time
Seems like another has her mind
The winds of change blow oh so cold
No longer do I feel in anyway bold
To deal with this, to deal with that
On my heart, I fell flat
In Jamaica, we speak of the
But how can I put my mind at ease!
Feels like life will never be the same
Feels like the end of this game
Try I will, try I must
But am I the only one making a fuss
The winds of change blow oh so cold
Half the story may never be told
- Broken Hearted
The Forgotten One
I saw her scratching in the dirt
A feeble soul made insane by a man she put first
I have known her a long time,
She used to sell Jew plums when I was in grade nine.
The sweetest plums; it was considered a sin to coat
them in sugar
I always wondered how the others coated them with
She always had a kind word and famous was her
It could shine light into the deepest crevice of the
Now she is forgotten and alone
I curse her son who put her out of his home
All those Jew plums peeled with love
sent him to school where he achieved a lot
The hurt was too much for her mind to bear
Now she searches the dirt and nobody cares
I called out to her saying her name
For a moment she stood still, then with a stick in
hand she started to chase.
- Jomo Mckoy
Twenty sixteen election
The Prime Minister speaks
There will be a rally at Half
Way Tree Square
This is breaking news
Then take off to Half Way Tree Square
Buses fly pass like bird
Heading to Half Way Tree square
Vuvuzelas blared sounding like
The zik v mosques
Orange flags flip flopping like
The wings of s dove
The supporters sang they shouted
They dance jig their bodies
While the buses moved along
Supporters entered the square
like falling rain
The Prime Minister greets each
Candidates with one and two kisses
And this was it
The twenty sixteen election
Will be February twenty fifth
Hurray hurray hurray
And the vuvuzelas blared
Sounding like the zik v mosques
It is done
Done as some want
Done as some wish
How you like it
How you taking it
It is done
- V. O. Ricketts
Is there a light at the end of this dark tunnel? Is there a way out these thoughts? This depression caves me in, my mind is about to spin.
Hidden secrets nobody knows
Eyes are open, hands are fisted
Deep inside I'm all wrapped up and twisted.
So many excuses and so many lies
They keep asking, how am I this way and why?
Greet them with a smile so they can never tell. I am alive but dead, just look at the invisible blood I've bled.
Oh depression, your a friend of mine, your here for a while, might as well we eat and dine.
Listening loudly to a silent scream.
I'm not gone but my mind has drifted.
Don't expect much, this depression has got me twisted.
Empty and lost are the feelings am gift with.
Today is just yesterday's tomorrow
The trees dry up, the leaves drifted and this depression still has me wrapped up and twisted.
Don't feel sorry for me, am on my knees, begging God please, to free me from this depression that makes me feel I've got no needs.
I'll make progress, just let me be. The father and I are working things out, finally!
- Davina Bennett
There is still Jamaica and There are still Jamaicans
.... for my Mother, Rowena Alicia...nee Oliver
Whatever or wherever you find them
you will find Jamaicans in Jamaica
they will reach out to you and help
despite whoever, whenever
you ask for a special kind of jelly
with the coconut,
the vendor will give you another that meets your
specification without extra charge
many will give you great hospitality in their homes
be a shoulder to lean on in these trying,troubling times,
when the people can talk, chat, text and say
what they feel about the governing, it is the voter's time and 'power" to "shower"
It is the right of the people to preside over their certain or uncertain future
to "love" who they want to "love".. the legend is mellow now "I'M GONNA LOVE YOU LIKE I'M GONNA LOSE YOU...." I hum a bit...with music overhead ... on Princess Street ...
I dance openly like my Mother in the face of precarious danger ...
Sam Coke sings in the background as I ply my highway ...
"I was born by the river in a little tent...
and oh just like the river
I have been running ever since" ...
...an amazing intelligence on the ground,
the debate is heating up as people buy their goods,
they are not stopping business,
talking while working,
exchanging ideas and cash,
the song returns
"It's been a LONG long time coming but a change gon' come!..."
the people smart, whatever happens food must put on the table,
just don't ask to many questions as to how it got there,
..."There were times, I thought I wouldn't last too long ..."
..."it's been too hard living..."
someone to call you "baby" in the Market place
( I don't mind being not the 'only one"...)
or prod you to buy something from furniture to toothpaste
or hail you as "daughter" that helps when your
Mother is somewhere in "journey" cyberspace
...( but now I think I'm able to carry on...)
the reverence for Mother is there despite,
as it is always "Mommy" who holds the family together,
the home, feeding friends forgotten by others,
paying for ambulances, rescuing,
the Blessed Mother is pleased with these sacrifices
of the Jamaican people,
their love poured out for each other.
"Darling... STAND BY ME..."
MY "CHANGE".. CHRIST HAS COME!
- Helen-Ann Elizabeth Wilkinson
He said he was different, genuine
A man for real,
Simply the best
The real deal
Better than the rest
Than anyone I'd ever met
But oh! Foolish me
So stupid, so naive
This man I believed
My joy, my smile, my friend
All gone, came to an end
Only a fantasy, a facade
An illusion, I was in confusion
So jovial, gentle and kind
But no, not to be mine.
Back to reality
Awaken from my ream, a dream
This was not real,
No, not real, it's only a dream.
Only a game
All he ever wanted
Was to play with a name
They were all the same
Playing a game
With no shame
Not the best, but a mess
Just like the rest.
- Winsome Miles
Pacing around the room in my mind,
are unwanted thoughts and annoying voices.
Daring me to face death,
and convincing me I have no choices.
With a bated breath I lay on the floor,
waiting for them to stop.
they plead to me, to reach up high,
and grab the rope at the top.
With my patience running out, the voices wont end.
Their tempting words and treacherous flings.
I want it done, I need a way out,
to get away I'll do anything.
Depression, stress, anxiety has gotten the best of me.
And nobody shows me sympathy.
I lay still...staring at the taunting string,
that swings above, laughing at my desire to die.
Is this what they mean by 'staring death in the eye?'
"Rest it on your neck for a bit!"
They laugh and jeer.
Though I show no sign of it,
there is present fear.
The toxic voices ... they slowly fade away.
But I know they will return another day