Poetry 3

Poem of the week

Rats

Me did see it pon di news an read bout it inna Star

How rat infestation did tek over Calabar

Di incursion mek di teachers an administrators frown

An tings did get so bad dat di institution did lock down

Di news spread like wildfire an people from near an far

Mek joke an laugh an all rename the high school 'Ratabar'

To tell oonu di truth me did find it kinda funny

When me see di rat dem pon tv a kin teet like Bugs Bunny

Mi fren dem sen me cartoon an ting an me no stop get joke

Until me buck up supm weh did nearly mek me choke

One night me wake up hungry an decide fi eat some chicken

And guess what me buck up...nuh one rat inna mi kitchen!

Now dis creature me talking bout was no ordinary rat

As a matter of fact, at first me did tink it was a cat

So me seh "What a nice kitty puss, mek me pet up him or her"

Den me realise seh di tail did long an never have on any fur

Me seh me did so frighten mi jump up an bawl out

An whole heap a outta order word did fly outta mi mout

So me set some big ol trap pon floor, inna cupboard, pon shelf

Me set so much a di dem ting deh dat me nearly ketch miself

Nex morning me wake up an swear seh di bugger did get ketch

But di trap dem did all empty an

not one did hol di wretch

Den me see him a run cross mi kitchen floor like race car inna Dover

An mi seh di war between me an dis dutty rat jus cyaa over

Imagine me go university and all lef deh wid degree

An dis peanut-brain four-leg joncro come inna me house an outsmart me!

Me ego did tek beaten an me did feel like a wutless fool

For me sure seh dat deh rat never even go a basic school

Well him did win dat battle but me coulda never mek him win di war

For I'd be damned if me mek him tun my house into another 'Ratabar'

Mi refuse fi provide playground fi him fi run round wild an free

So me go out an me embark pon a rat-poison shopping spree

Me come home from work one evening and buck up a stinkin smell

An find him carcass inna one corner very big an swell

So at last me proclaim victory over dat pesky likkle jerk

Me jus hope seh no more a dem inna mi house a mask up an a lurk

- Michael Abrahams

Amnesia

How much longer will she keep pretending?

Pretending that the bloodshot eyes

The broken limbs

The missing hair

The peeled-off skin

Are all marks of love

Masquerading themselves as bruises

I've seen his eyes

Filled with hate and anger

His artist hands

Undiscovered talent

Yet the chiseled lines in her skin

Carved lips that only appear swollen

Black-shaded eyes with blue highlights

And painted ribs that even glow at night

Clearly not the work of a novice

Misplaced memories

Unexplained bruises

Pain that is seldom felt

Yet always whisper to her in secret

Eyes that drip fear and pus

and blood mixed with tears

Bitten tongue and missing teeth

Lips that hide the tales

I've seen trees that had to shade their eyes

From this woman's beauty

Yet all she wants is to feel how love feels

To finally remember what it feels like to heal

- Wendell Casanova Dillon

Speak out

Children from every ethnicity country and class

are locked up in cages of silence

Trapped by fear

The fear of disbelief

Africans, Americans, Europeans, Asians and West Indians are being infected

by this unbearable and demoralising disease called

Child Abuse

It is passed down from generation to generation

Guilty parents adopting from their predators

then try to pass it down to their successors

Creepy hands running into the future of their sons and daughters

Clandestinely taking away their innocence

Turning bright glassy crystal eyes

Into streams of obscurity ignominy and resentment

Children are being exploited

from border to border without limitation

Children are sold into the arms of gangs

for sexual exploitation

Children are locked up in basements

alienated from the rays of each day

they are buffeted with wipes and iron

in the dungeon of hell, they whisper to themselves

'Someone help me'

This is the time to stifle silence and speak out

Don't be terrified anymore, just speak out

Run to a radio station

Blare it out in the middle of a church service

Shout it out at your graduation

Just to get the right person's attention

Don't conceal it any longer, whatever you have been promised

Your freedom from this enslavement is priceless

If you have to sound or look crazy to be heard

Just face it and speak out

Staying in silence will deteriorate your future

Quench the fire of suicide with the water called 'speak out'

Even if you are an adult, be free

Like Oprah Winfrey

blare it out, shout it out, just do it

be the first and speak out

- Daron Chosen Smith

Trayvon Martin

A 17-year-old shot dead

It's an outrage

We wonder

Is it self defence?

Or a racist, overzealous

Man claiming

He's apprehending

A suspected criminal

Who turns out to be

An innocent

Young black kid

Walking

From the grocery store

With Skittles

Just peering at the beautiful houses

Probably thinking

That one day he too

Will rise

And be of importance

But instead he was chased

Probably beaten

Shot with a 9-millimetre

By a Hispanic

Enormous guy

Who claims

Self-defence

Sometimes I sit

And cry

When the law protects the guilty

And prosecutes the innocent

Where is the justice

For Trayvon Martin?

His future was shattered

By the bullets

Piercing his delicate

Body

Unable to defend himself

I say with a heavy heart

Who will the law defend

The killer or Trayvon Martin?

- Anna Chavell Stewart

These days

These are the good ole days

As they will be

When we say

Those were the good ole days

Looking to those days

When we'll look back at these days

And say

Those were the good ole days

But if these are good days

Then I don't wish to see those days

That will cause these days

To be good days

- Keswick Simpson