Mon | Jul 26, 2021

Poetry

Published:Sunday | June 17, 2012 | 12:00 AM
  • POEM OF THE WEEK - Awaiting the hard-working man

So you wonder if dollars run with me.

Well, yours better have legs as fast or even more

And what audacity to think I'd sponsor your trip to that pricey men's clothing store

Trust me on this one, my mama raised me right

She warned me straight up, never let a lazy man anywhere in your sight

She said hands too soft tells us he doesn't like to work

He talks a good game, but pays his bills by a naïve partner in a skirt

Oops ... you want to take me for a ride in your dinosaur car

But I should put in the gas! Boy, now you really gone far

Without conceit, I'm a prize, a princess - and I know how to keep it real ...

But me paying for a man can't even begin to spin my wheel

Never mind, I'll give you T for trying, but a sorry F for failing to be flying

Those coins are jingling much too loud; keep them quiet or they'll attract a crowd

I offer for free my valuable advice; endeavour to be a hard-working man

'cause a woman as fine as me, and as needy as you could never equal a plan

This little talk between us is not meant to bring us any bad feeling or strife

You just need a work ethic, a strong one, to achieve what you need in this life

Understand clear, unless you can up your game, don't ever think you can ignite my flame

You can't depend on a woman to provide for you, 'cause that's really not the Master's will

I see your potential, and if you make some advances ... perhaps, just perhaps, I could be available still.

- The Corala

  • A child's social commentary

Children say things far beyond their years

Their own understanding

Or it is their understanding

In simple terms

That cannot be lost on those who hear

... She had no hair

Lost

But the brain matter was ticking

In addition, she was seeing life around her

The difference with her and the 'other' children

Was that

She had

Maternal support

Mom was there with her in her 'hairless' state

Feeding her

Playing with her

Therefore, she had not a care in the world

She was cognisant of the 'people'

Those in charge

And when to run and hide

And interact with other children

You could say she was just plain 'fass'

But sheltered by her mother she could say just about anything ...

She blurted out aloud

After some serious consideration, reflection and observation over several days

"Yuh see that boy

You know he has two fathers ..."

Beyond the wisdom of Miller's male marginalisation construct

Another phenomenon

The 'over-fatherisation'

One man put it that way

... "can't understand that woman, so much babyfather ... if I don't take care of my own ... him suffa"

Biological

Versus current boyfriend who is meeting the 'need'.

- Helen-Ann Wilkinson

  • Great men, wonderful fathers!

Great fathers

Are not only called father

But live the fatherhood

Sir John Golding

For mending my feet

Mr Ronald Brown, orthopaedic technician, 'plaster paris' who took me to school for three years

Princess Alice school at Sir John Golding centre (formerly Mona Rehabilitation centre) ... trusted me in life and afterwards ...

My own father, Gerald Wesley ... BUSTAMANTE backbone man

Who is always there

Before, after

Massaging the feet

Enabling my swimming feats in Jamaica, Canada

Sir John Golding with Lady Golding who flew into Canada after my thesis defence

Thank you ...

Father Hugh Sherlock

Who did so much good, blessing

So many prayers, he took me under his wings, with his wife for tea

So many times

Who mentored my writing ... essay on world peace

Always told me

On my first summer job

"Always leave something behind for yourself ..."

Told how to plan for retirement, how to take it easy

How he outlived the constraints of his heart

Phillip Sherlock

Where I spent my creative hours

Centring drama

Theatre

'Best Actress' - Tallawah

For the fathers of friends

Who mend my fences

Security

Eric Frater

Indomitable academic

Made me know all fields are possible

Law, science, medicine, teaching ... education, full stop.

These fathers who taught me to walk

And

How to walk away

- Helen-Ann Wilkinson