Sat | Dec 14, 2019

Poems

Published:Sunday | November 17, 2019 | 12:16 AM

Bad

All she ever heard was that she was too bad

From age ten she had her first man

I think his name was Teddy or was it Sam

All I know at age thirteen she got pregnant for her first man

At age sixteen another pregnancy and a third one for Sam

The people in the district whispered that she was very bad

At age nineteen she had another one and a fourth for Sam

I never heard them say that Sam was a bad man

Sam never worked all he did was impregnate the young woman

She did domestic work and started to raise crops on her land

She seemed dedicated and loyal to this man Sam

She still stayed with him when he impregnated another woman

The people in the district still did not say that he was a bad man

Yet when she walked by they would whisper ‘That girl bad’

With advice she got wiser and used medication that blocked Sam

He lived like a king while she became successful cultivating the land

She was able to open a clothes store and provide finer things for her man

The children were well taken care of and she remained loyal to Sam

One day she come home early and found another woman in bed with her man

She hardened her heart, packed up his things and threw out Sam

A year later at age thirty she got married to a policeman

Now when they see her they say, “When she was young that girl was bad”

The other day Sam came pleading and she gave him a job packing bags

Now when the people see him they shake their heads and say, “what a worthless man.”

– Jomo Mckoy

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Lonely weekend

Ma chérie, I am alone with thoughts of you tonight.

It is so cold and windy out here on deck,

And I wish that you were here to give me solace.

Joanna, I miss you every day of the week,

But there is something in a weekend that makes

Me miss you more than any other time.

I know it will not be long until I see you again,

But I am so impatient to be close to you.

I am spending another lonely weekend at sea.

I can barely grapple with the dreariness,

But I must endure the loneliness and keep my sanity.

I called you so I could hear your native accent,

And I shall say je t’aime before I hang up.

On this lonely weekend, I need you beside me.

My ship will soon arrive at the harbour,

And you will be there to welcome me home.

I shall stroll with you on the misty dock,

And we will watch the French waves roll to shore.

I shall feel your heartbeat when I kiss you,

And I shall miss your love when my ship departs.

I want to take you with me on my next voyage

So I can spend the weekend with the one I love.

– Marlon Pitter

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‘Everything Will be all right’

A 35 year-old’s message to 8-year-old sel’

Hold on to rainbows

Don’t cry tonight

Don’t worry your pretty head

Everything will be all right

Hold on to sunbeams

Wait till you see the light

Don’t cry tonight child

No matter how parents fight

Let go of migraines

Hold on to smiles

Let go of torture

Hold on to rhymes

Your future is awaiting you

Tell your past goodbye

Open your wings like an Eagle

You were born to fly

To an 8 year old me

I’m telling you to write

All the pain that you have felt

And it will give you flight

Put God before you

And soon you will find

That all your pain

Will be allayed

And everything will be all right.

– Lisa Gaye Taylor

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‘How To’ books

There are books on everything!

How to hate

How to love

How to slither in torment

How to dissect others as you try to find yourself.

They have books on how to glow and grow;

Books on how to reinforce those things you already know.

There are books on how to pluck the salient facts from other books;

Books on how to fathom meaning from a simple slant

Or, placid look.

Then, must we conclude that man’s existence is, in fact,

A boundless book,

With pages he, himself, cannot quite fathom

But at the same time, cannot overlook?

They have ‘How To’ Books on everything

In this day and age;

Books on even those things that have not yet registered

With consciousness, at this stage.

There is one such book aligned with nothingness.

A certain volume man must read

And learn to

Eventually

Digest.

- Erica Brown Marriott