Sat | Jun 19, 2021


Published:Sunday | June 10, 2012 | 12:00 AM
  • POEM OF THE WEEK - Sleep

Sleep! The Siren of my deepest desires!

She calls me by day, but mostly at nights,

The subtle, gentle undertone of her voice,

Plays the rhythm to which my feet have no choice,

To march to her call is my only purpose in life!

Like the wind she whispers, evoking faded images

Of nostalgic blissful encounters, cut short by the

Breaking of day.

Left with a feeling deeper than the pits of hell,

A longing for ... that can only be satisfied,

By the fathoming heart of someone tortured by

The rigours of the day. But at vast I am kept at bay,

Because to glimpse her beauty is something

I cannot do in the day.

But if the order of the day, I were to disobey,

I would certainly end up singing like the Fray,

Because I would be out of a job,

Not tomorrow, but certainly today.

- Santarno Wilkie

  • Beauty

What is beauty?

Yet a mere reflection of

character which characterises the characteristics

Of one's character! It is quite unique yet broadly

Generalised and stigmatised.

To be idealised,

By fools who fail to realise, the surprise,

That is comprised, in not seeing beauty

As just one size, to fit all,

Don't be ridiculous!

Don't think small!

Open your eyes take a look

Down the hall, one short, one skinny, one fat,

One tall, one whose head is as round as a ball,

Beauty comes from them all!

Because that's the thing with beauty, it does

discriminate against class, ethni-city, body type,

religion or faith, it's simply innate!

- Santarno Wilkie

  • Tribute to Dame Nita Barrow and Louise Bennett-Coverley

From ah lowly nurse on Barbados soil

Congrats Dame Nita Barrow (November 15,1916-December 19, 1995),

Yuh step up to become

Governor general through sweat an toil

So as a head of state

Come judicate

Experienced Administrator in know how to regulate

Me peacefully selling, an mi goods dem wan confiscate

Madame Excellency, me is a poor cleaner

Sometimes me hustle Gleaner

For as Jamaica National Heroine Most Honourable Louise Simone Bennett-Coverley (September 7, 1919-July 26, 2006) trace ... when things hard

Dis Gal nuh tan ah yard

She load up she baskit

Haul sheself go ah markit

Fear downtown? She mask it.

Mostly me scrub floor up a big school

Doh me can't read are write mi no stay fool

Mi kotch me ears listen tight to de Lecture door

Ketch discussion bout herstore

Evolution and Revolution of Nursing an more

From de Empress Rule

To Dame Nita Barrow diagnosis tool

Barrow, you serve PAHO, WHO and UN

From your example I will heed

With integrity you lead

Both word and deed

Planting a righteous seed

In all crisis you intercede

Alleviating poverty, helping women of every creed

Is yuh teck nursing to the international stage

Giant political icon image

Barrow, we deh pop down widout yuh

Last time, we sweetly talk

Together on de streets of Bridgetown rejoicing walk

Mi say: "Long time gal mi neva see yuh, come mek mi hold yuh hand!"

Yuh welcome me with open arms in Barbados Island

Customs and immigration give me a hug

Special present ... a butterfly Barbados coffee mug

Help me lift me baby boy when wid luggage we ah lug

Mi glad to know yuh Dame Nita Barrow

For you is a nurse that was very very thorough

Is you teach me how to say thank you and please

How to cough and how to sneeze

You showa me wid flying fish

Exotic caviar dish

Is dese kind nursing intervention

Mek Nita create international convention

For Nita is God loving invention

Dame Nita Barrow, yuh treated me with dignity

Befitting royalty

Demitasse teacup,

Cream with hospitality


Confidentiality by that beautiful

... cottage near the sea

An when yuh see mi bruck you empathise wid mi sorrow

Yuh say as long as Dame Nita Barrow deh roun ... yuh nuh need borrow

Here is financing for today and plenty for tomorrow

From dat day me have permanent regionalism feava

From dese generous integration we doesn't need to recova

For Dame Nita Barrow and Me collaborate

So everybody else must learn to federate!

- Helen-Ann Wilkinson

  • Motherly love

I need to feel that motherly love

But on several occasions I've been rejected

My dad is just a sperm donor,

So out of my mind he's deleted

My school attendance is below par

But each chance I get, I go without hesitation

Because I really want to prove to my Mom

That I have ambition and high hopes that

One day I can be a role model of this nation

Regardless of how hard I try

It seems useless.

There is this psychological burden

That I can't suppress

Motherly love, where are you?

Without your affection

I try to be happy on the outside,

But my soul is always filled with melancholy

And no one knows.

I don't know how to express this feeling

Because I don't think there is any healing

Ever since I was a child, I have been feeling this way

It all began the night

I woke up and saw my Mom with Fay

It still hurts even to this very day

Because I can't believe my Mom is gay.

- Orville Murray