Tue | Mar 20, 2018


Published:Sunday | May 21, 2017 | 12:00 AM


The Utterances of a Dying Man


When his comfort zone became uncomfortable

He went in search of the woman he'd never met before

There she was ...

Glowing, not from jewellery or how bright she was

But because light reflected well from the blood.

When their paths crossed,

He discovered words

Words never before spoken

He grew sentences not known to their dialect

And they gave birth

to conversations unknown

to Caesar,

Conversations unknown to nature

The utterances of a dying ma

As their paths crossed,

But never met

The utterances of a dying man

There was a connection that didn't connect

The utterances of a dying man

"As she passed

She said her beautiful petals

were like cyanide,

You'll smell bitter almonds and think it's sweet."

Sandre O. Lowers



Walk out of The Dark


You have been careless with your heart

The question now is,


It has been trampled on so much

That Goddess Venus's eyes are dry.

How do you refine a thorn Whose purpose is to hurt?

Why forego a sumptuous meal

To pick up crumb sullied by dirt?

Why suppress your conscience

And compromise your stance

And toss out all your scruples

To hang on to a pants?

Go now and feel the giving Sun!

Hold on to its light!

Uproot yourself from decadence

And reclaim your life!

Let pathetic selfishness

Sit inside the dark

As you take the hand of freedom

And begin your strident walk!

Erica Brown Marriott



My Guardian Angel


My guardian angel

I know you are by my side

From sunset to sunset

You watch over me

You may be tall

You may be short

You may even be surrounded with beaming light from the great God above

When I am asleep you are by my side

In the darkest night you are always there

With loyalty and joy you watch over me

Like a loyal soldier your guard is always up

To protect me from Satan's harm

You see the wrongs I have done

You never leave me alone

You see the tasks I have faced

I stumbled

I slipped

I stopped

You watch me put them through

But when I am about to fall

You reach out and stop me

from falling

V.O. Ricketts





A child dies as the walls of Kingston press against the flower-bed of his childhood years too soon

The child is lost as innocence comes against the boundaries of the police line

and the ambulance wailing and the signs 'Keep back! Don't walk! Don't cross!'

The riotous will of innocence rocked by another explosion,

another revenge

and the child that dreams in the ghetto watches

as hope collapses with the smoking roof of another arsonist.

The child dies with each new graffiti there in blood,

with each new name scripted on all walls

as faith is squeezed and zinc fence leak blood.

And hope falling from a butterfly to a caterpillar,

from a radiant rose to a deadly weed as innocence faces " Eye for an eye"

and a mother's cries

A nation dies between these bending cardboard homes

One more load, and a child dies.

Homer Sylvester




In a one-room dwelling, she watches over her brood

They are fast asleep, with bellies filled with food

She is now thinking of tomorrow

Her neighbour just got paid, so she knows she can borrow

Then there is work going on at a construction site

The wages from that can buy formula so her baby won't have to cry

Then the father of her first child promised her something

She can use it to buy flour and in the evening fry some dumplings

Her thoughts are more relaxed now

No more prostituting her body she once vowed

But if her children are hungry

Then she will have to cross that boundary

Education first her mother used to drum in her head

But his words were sweet and her mother's words she did forget

She forgot them two more times

Now she wonders if having them has messed up her life

But these thoughts are paused as the littlest one plays with her knee

His father is different from the other three

Will another man ever really love me?

She thinks out aloud remembering how she was deceived

He said he would marry her despite the three

She gave in only to find out that he was not so free

He had his own family in another country

He was so nice to her even now she shakes her head in disbelief

But despite her depression she knows she can never surrender

This is her chance to make her mark by being a devoted mother

Jomo McKoy



The Teacher


A large crowd gathered to hear the news

In my heart, I, no doubt, believe some were Jews

They listened intently as He taught

The young lad approached with the fishes he had caught

The teacher stood on the mount tall above the land.

The apostles counted and got around five thousand

They searched and couldn't even find housing

They looked at the crowd that was getting hungry

Better not let them get too angry

The teacher blessed the food and then they were fed.

The teacher was eloquent and spoke very well

Because He did not want anyone to go to hell

He performed a good miracle with the bread

Their lives He did not want to be like the living dead

The greatest teacher taught and then fed the five thousand.

- Hortense Francis