Tue | Oct 23, 2018


Published:Sunday | November 6, 2016 | 12:00 AM


(In memory of the late Jevaughn Brown - 14 year old student of Ardenne High School)

He who came from watery womb

Was claimed by water in a pool

As he embraced a charge from school

Regarding community service.

His life with us was short, but rich

And although he will be deeply missed

We applaud him for his selfless gift

Of commitment to community service!

The pools of tears loved ones now shed

Will hardly drown their hearts

But will, instead, hold memories of

A youth who played his part.

All that is left for us to say

Sits pensively - out of sight.

Jevaughn was called to travel.

He has moved to 'higher heights'

And now, the pool of water which

Contrived to give him rest

Is looking on in silence

Its face stained with regret.

- Erica Brown Marriott


A mother's grief

If tears could absorb a mother's blows,

as they softly fall from lips twitching to cry

and to hold - if the Love for a child

that bonded from the womb to this,

so soon - if the raindrops shimmering in her eyes

could print the vision she held

for an only son so young -

if one's heartache could gather in the voidness

where wounds grow as she whispers 'No' -

If the memories flooding her mind

collect in each teardrop that drips from tortured lips -

they could not tell the pain that silence is -

biting her lips, tapping her toes

as she whispers ' No, no, it's not so'.

- Homer Sylvester


Ode to lost children

Mothers, you gave birth in agony

But your pain turned to joy

As your little child grew from baby to boy

or little girl with a cute toy.

You saw the growth and development of your children

You rebuked their childish plays

and remembered your own mischievous days

your own long ago stubborn ways.

You saw yourself mirrored in them but much more,

as their distinct personalities emerged.

They were unique, impulsive, full of verve.

They were flamboyant or inhibited, getting on your nerve.

You had faith in them becoming better than you - because you're here.

Now you weep Rachael, weep for your offspring

killed in innocence just for a little bling

Weep for the one who was yours even from a fling.

Weep in agony even for those who are not yours

Weep! Your cries are not in vain

for your prayers are unfeigned

Weep to a God who rules and reigns.

Fathers, don't tough it out

Or you'll kill that nigga for your hands are a-quiver

Cry or cry out. Talk or shout out.

Get counsel, don't mumble

Or you'll lose your mind

And walk the street because you-a pine

Cigarette won't remove it

Weed won't heal it

But God will judge it

God's ears are not dull

His hands are extended

He is the worldwide Director of Public Prosecution -

He is judge, jury and executioner

The guilty ones freed by the lower court should be concerned about the higher court

for the seven detestable things to God include:

a lying tongue,

hands that shed innocent blood,

a heart that devises wicked schemes,

feet quick to rush into evil,

and a false witness. (Prov 6:16-17)


- Ouida Williams


God knows who you are

You stole his life,

wrist watch and his phone..

so bold, greedy and brazen.

No regard for a young precious life,

your act was so obscene.

You could care less you wanted to create a scene..

To you God wasn't looking it seems,

blinded with callousness and the determination to steal....

God isn't afraid to recognise you,

he was watching

he sees and he knows you,

every detail of your being,

he didn't fall asleep when you boarded that bus,

and used that weapon to create death and destruction

on the life of a young innocent and handsome one.

His own belongings,

God sees you and he knows you,

he recognises you with the blood of an innocent young man on your hands..

Getting home was on his mind ,

until you erased his plan,

cruel, cold blooded murderer

with your knife in your hand...

Your mind is dark,

but that young man has found light in a beautiful land...

Sleep on young man, you're safe in Jehovah's peaceful hands. May his soul rest in peace ...

Crishna Clarke


Jamaican transportation

The clock chimes 5 and work is done

Nine to five shift is complete and everyone is heading home

Desperate people, longing for familiar comfort

But to get there, is serious business.

Government provided public transportation is highly unreliable and keeps within standard, of which many citizens don't abide.

Hence most prefer to be packed like sardines in a tin

And even that simile is highly minimised to the actual situation that occurs

People, packed like corned beef in the tin

No where to turn, no space to breathe

Strangers brace on each other for support

And together sustain the brutal impact of the driver's foot on the pedal-

Insensitive to the feel of the passengers as they bear it all on already worn out feet.

If unity of mind and spirit could be replicated as this real scene,

The world would be a better place

But we will not allow individual ideas and theories to collide in harmony,

To make the world a better place.

Simply bitter people who allow unkindness to fall from their lips like melted butter

Burning all and anyone it contacts.

It's unfortunately the opinion of the biggest and baddest 'bull' who has the most talk,

Then try to set the whole world in motion;

A system under which we all have to survive.

Otherwise called cult and risk being ostracised by society,

A risk that not everyone is willing to take

So they settle for what is easier-

Will you?

- Melissa-Ann Campbell


May my Memory Never Leave

To Alzheimer's Disease, may you

Be a lost memory, may the world

Forgets that you existed

As you're nothing but hard times

Just as emery.

When the beds of our memory

are shallow from drought

Words of special memory

they just don't flow from thy mouth

A mind is then a forest fogged by nature

But how then does my mind work like this

Like this poem my thoughts they started

with no clear intent or path but yet they're,


It thinks about thinking what to think

then it stops and forgets it all

The confusion is endless as taxes due Caesar

or as the wind that walks but never tire,

or as endless as our imagination but is it?

Sometimes it's like being in an orchard of grapes

Weighing each before picking

It makes no sense, but then to some that is life

That is faith, that is religion,

or a wall to keep people out, when we're one!

Alzheimer's, you're just a wall keeping loved ones out.

Wherever life's journey leads us

May our thoughts be guided by

Memories rich as freshly painted walls

in Christmas times, pure as snow falls

white in times thereof.

Like limbs our thoughts grow from

our character, limbs or seeds?

As our memory is a planted seed

Sometimes it grows sometimes it dies.

We make a good Team but I never feel as if

I'm ever close enough to you, never leave

me in this chaos, memory

As if all else is lost

I will still remember to grieve

May my memory never leave

It is only our hope dementia be diminished to

nothing and Alzheimer's be forgotten

as an ancient ruin,

The ruin it is.

- Sandre O. Lowers


Pretty Rough

(a sonnet for the innocent)

Pretty rough

sweetly tough

food not much

but such is such

but I listen and dance with Aretha Franklin

this suffering is from others evil not my sin

I still have a song

I've done no wrong

but living like a prisoner incarcerated in this island

chained, whipped, spat on, striped in the sand

I ain't no scamma man

I worked hard with a plan

overwhelming a particular evil to kill the innocence

shatter to pieces those whose justice is with sense but without a cent

- Helen-Ann Elizabeth Wilkinson



I got up one morning with hunger pangs

And felt the spirit of great oppression

I looked through the window and saw some gangs

My heart went into a little depression.

Then I remembered the scripture about Mary

And at her master's feet which she chose

That she would put on some cheer

She took the best part so she could not lose.

I began to read the great Book day by day

My faith grew stronger and I began to illuminate

Breakthroughs appear year after year

And a light appeared and I started to radiate.

Luke 10

- Hortense Francis


Envision Me

Envision me

Taking deep breaths, slowly

Closed eyes

Training my thoughts to embrace the unthinkable

The unimaginable

The far reaching fantasies

Embedded in my mind

When compared to my reality

Yes, the unthinkable

A perched smile

A laugh out loud moment

I do that

Every now and then


It's not madness if you talk to yourself


It sometimes help

I envisioned that happy place

A wry grin

Spread across my face

The unthinkable

It becomes real

Though most times

It's really just make believe


Total happiness

That word

It's an elusive concept

So easily replaced

The feel, the moment

Can be so difficult to define -Precisely


It can be surrounded with so much controversy

But important to me

Is self sufficiency

If I maintain that

Then it is easy to envision me

Being happy


It is what I make it to be

Fantasy versus my reality

Envision Me

Charmaine Wallace


Turning On The Joy

Across the oceans, in the land of America

Somewhere down South, near the City of Atlanta

Lives a precious lady, with a heart of gold

Quiet and demure, yet courageous and bold

Fair haired beauty, with eyes that melt

A spirit of kindness, by all, is felt

A woman of prayer, who loves the Lord

A woman whose heart beats with one accord

To the love of her life, Jesus of Nazareth

His Good News of love, from her you will get!

The devil, somehow, has broken her heart

And caused the joy from her to depart!

He has wiped the smile from her face

Only to have sadness and tears, in their place

Shelly oh Shelly, it makes me so mad

Happiness, please return and make her heart glad!

I lift you up to God in prayer

Demonic forces watch out! Here come Michael the Slayer

I pray God to send His heavenly host

To guard and protect and to take post!

Around your heart and mind, stand guard all day and night

And bring you out of the darkness, into the light!

My dearest friend the one who has shown me the Way

Turn that frown around and enjoy your day!

The light in your eyes and your beautiful smile

Makes me want to travel many a mile

To find a way to turn your sadness into joy

Quis Ut Deus, smashing the enemy's ploy

When you need to cry, on my shoulder you can depend

Come now, take heart, my beautiful friend!

- Broken Heart



Every day di children dem jus a bawl out,

Hear di children's cry Blaine a talk bout.

Di poor pickney dem full up a so much self-doubt

An di moment dem try fi talk, yuh tell dem "shut up yuh mout!"

Di children have a right to express

An a right to happiness.

Dem have a right to education fi achieve success,

Mek wi treat dem wid respeck, dem life wi nuh fi moless,

Cause a one life dem have, nuh mek dem live it wid regret.

A full time wi put a stap to chile abuse,

Mi tyad everyday fi jus a seet pon di news!

A full time dem know a innocent life dem a kill,

Wi really need fi jine wid Betty-Ann Blaine inna har priya vigil.

As adults wi have a great responsibility,

Fi proteck di children's rights is our duty,

Wi need fi treat dem wid fairness an no partiality,

Cause equal rights an justice a fi every baddy,

From di mada to di fada to di likkle baby!

- Shauna-Kay Douglas