“Leave us Covid!”
I must rebuke,
Be gone now!
Obey you must;
And desist cunningly
Stay with your wiles
Away to snatch the
Next unsuspecting soul.
Relieve us of your
Intimidating presence, I pray,
Millions of lives away
You have pilfered.
Deadly device of the
In diurnal and nocturnal times
You persistently stalk
The international land;
In quest of our anatomic
Structures to invade.
And like “termites of flesh”
Our sickened bodies away
You swiftly devour.
Zoonotic virus of
From animals you have leapt
Our respiratory systems
Pathogenic, locksmithing demon,
With your lethal craft
Keys to the locks
Of our immunologic doors
Just to gain illegal access
To our cells.
Destructive squatter of the cell,
Wreaking havoc while you dwell
To make grotesque-looking
Copies of yourself.
Physically distressing, parasitic vampire,
Oh! What ginnal thou hath been.
Camouflaging yourself in varying forms,
Among particles of air we breathe;
You slip unnoticed into cavities
Mouth, nostrils, throat and lungs
And with pervasive powers,
Inflicting fatal damage
As you please.
Shutting down lungs with
Viscous, mucosal sludge,
With coagulated blood you
Occlude capillaries, veins
And arteries too.
Totally depriving the cerebral
Computer of oxygen and glucose,
Those vital, dual necessities;
The absence of which
Renders the encephalon incapable
Of its meticulous supervision
Of corporal duties.
Then akimbo you
Beaming with pride
For the nightmarish hell
Unleashed you just.
And while you tarry,
On your revolting face
You brazenly display
A broad, but jeering
Eagerly waiting for the
Now bask in your glory
And clap your hands;
Deviously, afflicting, feckless one.
- Melchor Baugh
Get up, wake up, make up you bed, wash you face, brush you teeth and come comb you head
This is part of my single madda duty, and need I remind you mi affi do dis daily
A single madda’s job is not an easy case
I can vouch and tell you that this thing is no rat race
You affi make sure say everything is set in place
Like dem food, dem clothes, dem health or whatever Di case
Even though a you alone you better learn Fi keep up Di pace
Being a single madda you affi full a strength yes mah you affi TRANG
You affi can multitask like you related to super man
Cause at this point a two roll you a play, you are already the woman and you still affi a play Di man
So mi affi learn how Fi control mi gender role
When dem rude and do suptm wrong a dem time deh mi bring out Di man
And Fi the rest a time, like Fi show love and dem thing deh mi remain a woman.
But as mi say being a single madda nuh easy.
Cause every dollar mi wuk go back ina household bills and spend pan pickney
And tru all a dis you nuh see nuh daddy
Cause dem a roam Di place still a get more and more pickney.
And to think dem woulda care bout you and how you a struggle, wooiee you fava monkey!
All dem care bout affi replicate more and more of dem identity
But dem have a saying mommy baby but daddy maybe
So mi affi just take on the job and attack it bravely
Cause at Di end of Di day when everything simmer dung mi ago enjoy Di gravy
So make mi continue Fi love and care Fimi babies
And pray God’s richest blessings on them as they transform into gentlemen and ladies.
A single mother’s story
The value of my dignity
“A lie yah tell, nuhn nuh guh suh”
“Attention yah look bout yuh own uncle rape yuh”
That’s all I hear whenever I try to reach out and seek help
Fifteen and traumatized, unstable mental health
I’m suffering with pain, guilt and dangerous thoughts
He is a well-known man in society, high on the hierarchy
A polished reputation and high expectancy
“The Minister, that’s absurd” she laughs,
And continues “I know he’s your uncle but such accusations have a big penalty.”
So on top of being called a liar I would have to face a penalty for speaking my truth
I laugh at the irony seeing as the people, the adults that are said to protect us really a mash up the youth
As a guidance counsellor you should be ashamed of yourself, you’re probably a mother
Would you laugh in your daughter’s face if she had told you that a pastor was her molester?
Would you call her a liar if she had told you it was her very own father?
I assume you wouldn’t because she is your daughter or you probably would because of who is said to be the perpetrator.
You really don’t understand how it feels to be disgusted with yourself, feeling uncomfortable in your own skin
I tried to seek justice but it falls on deaf ears, but what justice can be served for the scars embedded deep within?
You may see them in their uniforms, waist strapped with a gun
They are to serve and protect, are they not? But just how many protecting have they done?
I tried reaching out to my sister but with a hiss of her teeth and her eyes rolled
She told me and was a liar and that I was too bold,
Too bold to be spreading rumours on a man that was known
Even with the tears falling from my eyes, no sympathy was shown
In all honesty mi tiad, mi stressed, mi feel empty in a mi chest
Mi fed up, mi just cyah badda fi continue get abuse by mi mada half-bredda
What’s the point of living if yuh already feel dead? All lef fi do is fi put a bullet through mi head
Now a year older I can say I am able to cope, found somebody that believed my words in an unexpected place
She was a higgler, she saw me in a shell with my old routine;
I wasn’t doing well in school and I barely ate
She called me aside then gave me a hug and I lost all composure, that hug made me break
I told her my story and she listened keenly with a saddened look mixed with anger
She said, “Weh society a come to mi really a wonda, alright mi dear child hear wha, I a go call CDA mek dem get a social worka fi u.”
She heaved a sigh and shook her head, “If everything go right I will mek yuh live wid me to.”
I was swollen with gratitude, finally I would receive the justice I deserve
But today I am triggered by a news I heard
About a woman they raped as if her body wasn’t hers
As if that wasn’t scary enough because they took her life to
Now the tears are falling because I am victim too
Unlike her I am alive and I am GLADDDD
But hearing about this is causing a turmoil inside and not only sad; I’m hurt, I feel broken and I am pissed
Because how does one rape a woman, hearing her agony makes him feel pleased?
To taint her dignity and strip her of her sane mentality causing anxiety
Leading to depression and trauma making her panicky
Possibly making her a victim of suicide doesn’t do anything to you?
You walk free of conscience, free of the shame
And the guilt that should be fresh in your mind for committing such atrocious crime
There was a witness and let me just say, you’re just as bad
You’re worse than the man, the dutty man that invades a woman’s sacred temple
Went beyond her comfort zone to satisfy his needs and he probably has a wife at home
That woman is my sister, the sister that shunned me; the one that said I was too bold
Now she finally understands how I felt, but unlike me she would never tell a soul
She will never get the chance to speak out, won’t get to tell her story nor speak his name
The story of how her dignity was stained and after that she will never be the same
But she’s dead as he took her life she will never get to experience the trauma I did
I forgive her for not believing me, when I was just a kid
- Moesha Rowe
Again life knocks you down
Trampled your aspirations on the ground.
Second time around rejection stabs you in the eye
Blinding your dreams, your goals and your desire
To be an exceptional, special human being.
Cruel fate again walks in your path
Blocking you from reaching that greener grass
Where you have planned and dreamed to be.
Your pain is heart wrenching
Your tears melt my troubled soul
My hands are tied with invisible strings
I know no one to untie them
Don’t give up my baby
Just mop up those tears
God knows why.
The path you seek may be troubled waters
So turn right around
Look to the other side
There is still hope even in troubled times.
Hold on baby
Hold on tight
Don’t you dare let go
One day you will know why
Rejection stabbed you twice.
- Carol Thomas-Johnson
You see me pickney them a walk alone,
And you start make up all kinda story bout me.
You call me ‘cayliss mumma’,
Without even giving me a chance to tell my story.
Yes! Is them alone walk,
But Lord knows me do me best.
Me wake up from the morning soon,
Prepare them breakfast and get them dressed.
By time them supposed to leave out,
Me reach a work already.
Me wash, me cook, me clean, me press,
Jus’ fih make a little money
As God above, it very hard,
Fih leave your kids dem alone a yard.
But dutty tough and things no bright,
Me cya always have them ina me sight.
A me alone them have,
Them father nuh deh bout.
Me affi make sure say food ina them mouth.
Me one fih find food, water, light and rent.
So nuh judge me miss, I am just a poor parent.
- Orlando Heslop