Poem of the Week
Dr Shaggy Tessanne - The Voice
It is a long, hard climb
to the top
It comes with special sacrifice,
Rising from "colourful background"
to starlight, Superstar
To be The VOICE crying out in the wilderness
"Prepare ye the way of the Lord!"
As He comes to us
We confer the Honorary DOCTORATE Degree of Medicine to 'Shaggy'
Doctoring music care, shepherding a songstress
saving the nations
motivating people of the valley
to fly the mountains of new possibilities
What a heart of deep compassion and care from a man who most likely will say, "...It wasn't me"
Praise to the Almighty
North, West, South, East, Three wise judges indeed
The children of Adam redeemed
Now ah dis meck Angles rock
Blow Trumpet, Ring Bell, Bang Pot cover!- Helen-Ann Elizabeth Wilkinson
I write to encourage, I write because I can, I write to break a captive free
I write to motivate you to write, but most of all I write to The Gleaner so you and I can see.
This lion will never stop fighting the fight of life, I will never give up my right to write
I am the king of the jungle so breaking barriers is the norm, I must get through alive
I am a king, I am the best of the best and only the strong will survive.
In this jungle called life, you will be chased by discouragement
You will be hunted with failure
But let not what you cannot do tear from your paws what you can
I am not a bird so I cannot fly away from my troubles and my problems to a better place
But I am a lion, a king, so I will be the best at what I do
I will fight for my right to write.
This lion from the tribe of success shall break every chain
This lion heart will not give in, I will pass over every heartache and pain
Each and every day I constantly pray for success but at the same time I have to also pray for my enemies who see me as their prey
They keep fighting me but I am not giving up
There is no grave that can hold my body down
They can try but they will never get me under the ground
They will huff and they will puff but I will not be afraid of their frown
On this head I will continue to wear my crown
My destination is on the way and on this throne I will stay
Because I am a lion, I am a king, I am the King of the Jungle
In the jungle, the mighty jungle, Roshain chooses to write ...
- Roshain R. Greensword
Ode to Mitzi
This once spritely dog, now forcibly retired from the hunt.
Wandered around, a dejected, disillusioned runt.
My new-found loneliness, fate's punishment.
For a personality overly blunt.
But alas, fate withheld its coup de grace while I was in submission.
Deciding instead to render me a delightful apparition.
With the hue and taste of fine caramel.
And eyes like a winter sunset.
Mitzi is by far my most intoxicating prey yet.
You hover in my mind's eye clear as daylight.
Dominating my thoughts by day and my dreams by night.
No longer forced to aimlessly roam,
Had this dog finally found his bone?
She is my raison d'Ítre,
Her angelic face and mischievous smile.
Has now made this pup's miserable existence worthwhile.
No less than an angel from above.
With the purity of a white dove.
More beautiful than any white rose.
Sweet and edible from her head to her lovely toes.
Thoughts of you set my soul on fire.
And your heart is what I now deeply desire.
I will compete for you in utter desperation.
As hopes of requited love are now merely a figment of my imagination.
While I stand in awe of the beauty of God's greatest creation.
I cannot deny my undying admiration.
My pining for you is a daily distraction.
And I aim to hold you during every interaction.
Alas, the safe path is to keep quiet and leave my heart in protection.
Even at the risk of losing you and dying from depression.
Or maybe I should avoid remaining a liar.
And admit to Mitzi that she is the one I admire.
Get out of here!
Each morn I fear before I rise
With sleep still in my eyes
Again I wait for the morning sun
To break the horizon
'Tis not that I am new to this
The lies the cheat, the promises.
We put them in society
Sustained in part by you, by me
Who pay, who give who sacrifice
For years on end without rejoice
Only to hear to do again
The things we know we do in vain.
It must be time to see the fruit
For which we toiled and gave pursuit
Our masters, this they say they are;
As they waste, they squander and oh so far
As to plot and plan to put us all
With our backs against the wall
I don't care 'bout tranche or IMF;
They were here already, before they left,
To put us in the hands of those we thought
Shared the vision for which we fought.
So here we are, depressed and sad;
For the awful times we poor have had.
To whom can we look to help us through
This horrible mess we can't undo?
A future bleak as ever it seem
When all we want is to redeem,
And live our life a little bit good,
Before milk and honey become our food!
Don't tell me 'bout dying and going to heaven,
I reject that thought from I was seven!
Since dis ya earth is all I know,
I expect to reap here, right where I sow!
They sit, they stand, they block our path
To push us more to fear and wrath.
So down, down, down; get out of here!
The harm you did cannot repair.
Now go your way and leave us be
Forefathers fight and now we're free,
To succeed in life and reap reward;
Our rightful pay for working hard.
- Chester Irving