Poems

INTRO: This week, Arts & Education pays tribute to one of our greatest literary icons, The Hon Louise Bennett Coverley, OM

Uriah Preach

Fi-me fambly is no peaw-peaw, Me daughter Sue dah teach;

An when rain fall or parson sick Me son Uriah preach.

Sunday gawn rain come so till parson Couldn lef from out him yard;

People did eena church, an so Uriah get weh broad -

Him climb up pon de pulpit, him

Lean over an look dung,

Him look pon all we enemy

An lash dem wid him tongue.

De fus one him teck awn was Lize Who tell de lie pon me:

Him stare eena har face an seh, `Thou art de mouti-mouti I'

Him seh, 'Thou art de meddlesome, Thou art de rowersome!'

An den him look pon me an seh, 20 'Thou art de slaughtered lamb.'

Him teck awn Teacher Brown, for when Him was a lickle tot

Teacher beat him one day because Him call Teacher 'Top-Knot'.

So Riah get him revenge now, For him stare straight pon Brown An seh, 'Let him dat sittet on

De house top not come down.'

Riah tun pon Butcher Jones who noted

Fi sell all scrapses meat

An seh, 'Thou shalt not give they neighbours Floolooloops to eat!'

Him tell dem off, dem know is dem, Dem heart full to de brim;

But as Riah eena pulpit

Dem cyaan back-answer him.

So when chuch-member mel me Ah doan answer till it reach

A rainy day when parson stay home

An Uriah preach.

 

POEM OF THE WEEK:

Po Sammy

Me know seh me dah diminish, Me know me dah get small,

But since me po dog Sammy dead, Lawd, me cyaan eat noantall.

Him stray weh from las week, an of Me didn see him duppy

Me hooden sure him dead at all For me cyaan fine him body.

Me cyaan bear see de odder dog-dem

Walkin bout so free,

An me heart did lef fi bruck up

Anytime me see a flea.

Me go to Nancy wedden, an Me never feel so bad,

But when ah look pon de table Ah couldn help from sad.

De white sinting-dem pon de cake So favour Sammy teet

Dat same time water full me yeye

An, Lawd, ah couldn eat!

John bring patty fi me teday

But me couldn nyam i

When me tink seh for all me know

Me mighta dah nyam Sammy.

Parson Jones come fi console me, An doah him really try

Me yeye go ketch him parson collar An me bus out a cry;

For Sammy did wear collar, an

Same way him lickle head

Jump up an dung like parson own -

Me cyaan believe him dead.

Me beg parson fi go weh, For him an Sam so favour

Dat it is hard fi see him livin An Sammy gawp forever.

Yuh Nephew Sue

Aunt Tama, dear, me sad fi hear

How storm wreck Jackass Tung;

But wus of all, yuh one deggeh

Coaknut tree tumble dung!

Las week dem had a meetin fi all De coaknut growers what

Lose coaknut tree eena de storm, So me was eena dat.

Bans a big-shot money-man was deh.

Some a dem get out cross

An start fi talk bout omuch hundred Tousen tree dem loss.

Me did meck up me mine, Aunt Tama, Fi get up an talk free,

Fi touch dem pon dem consciance

Meck dem gi yuh back yuh tree.

But when me hear de man-dem mout Dah gwan like distric bell

Me heng me head, fole up me wing

An draw eena me shell.

De chairman pint pon me an seh

'How much yuh lose, Miss Sue?'

Me did feel shame fi seh 'one', so Me sofly whisper, 'Two'.

Him frowns an seh, 'Two hundred or Two tousen tree, Miss Sue?'

Hear me, 'Per cent is hundred, but Per tree is so-so two.'

De chairman cough an blow him nose.

'Thank you, madam,' him seh.

De tarra man-dem look pon me

Like me no business deh.

Dem chat bout resolution an

Dem chat bout committee,

Dem vote and dem decline, but dem No seh 'kemps' bout yuh tree!

But me hear seh dem gwine buil back All de house-dem new and pretty,

An yuh can stop seh 'Jackass Tung'

An call it 'Race Horse City'.

In close please fine corn fi me fowl An bread fi cousin Lou,

Tropence fi buy yuh saal, while I Remains yuh nephew, Sue.