Poems

 

The joy of the ultimate - Gold

 

Striving for gold

Digging deep into our inner resolve

Extracting the precious ore of the indomitable spirit

The bedrock that constitutes the core of our will to succeed

Unwavering under pressure

Enduring the heat of the inevitable test

Unyielding, unflinching, displaying the trait of noble character

The sum and substance of all that which is excellent

The process thus employed

Cutting away at the base of mediocrity

Applying dogged determination

Honing and polishing all that which is desirable

Eventually to realise the joy of the ultimate - Precious untarnished gold

- Errington Johnson

 

Hot Summer

 

 

There is nothing quite

Like summer in the tropics

Birds singing, crowded beaches,

Blue skies and flowers.

One change, however,

Every year it gets hotter and hotter.

Mangoes are in abundance,

Glasses of lemonade, barbecued chicken,

Jerked chicken, jerked fish,

Bammy and festival.

But every year it gets hotter

yet, and hotter.

People are dressed to greet the summer

With bikini bared bodies, sleeveless dresses,

Shorts, hair worn in one,

Or cut in layers.

Because the ozone layer

Continues to disappear,

Every year that makes it hotter and hotter.

It is still summer in the tropics,

In the day and in the night.

Action both in colour and in light

Yet, although everything is bright,

Each year it gets hotter, hotter,

Yet, and hotter.

- Emma-June Bell

 

Miracle On Foot : "Tip Toe!"

 

 

"...We eventually wear down our welcome in this world"

No one but God!

You were not meant to get a ride

Sitting on the steps

You were mant to be refused

And for you to refuse with body language

The nos were to prepare you

A set timed divine appointment

For the miracle on "tip toe"

Walking right to you

At the University Chapel Mona campus

That Bahamian accent

In need of a "church service"

But doors closed after the end of the Sunday 7 a.m. Anglican worship....

Those Islands

Eleuthera

New Providence

Hallelujah!

Very significant trajectory

The Grand Bahamas

Birthplace of my maternal grandfather, Samuel G.Oliver

I now know why my mother so danced in the face of trouble

That journey

With the market basket from town from east to west

Don't worry if it is on foot

Mi neva born with foot to walk, "Club Feet" they say but thank God

For Sir John Golding who write

"Walk" on my physiotheraphy paper and if it is not one thing it is another

But if is one thing I can do is

Walk (Three Miles A Day)

Me have the most "beautifulest" foot in de entire world

No Miss World can compete

Me in my own league

Mi have mi own parade to "rain" pon

And I do 'love myself'

No one to throw you out on the streets

Say yuh foot smell bad in dem 'cris' car

Hand you wipes, spray air freshener all over you or something like that

Independence is a good thing

Hunger is sometimes more tasteful ... This is not ingratitude, so this is not meant for anyone in particular

So don't take it personally, but even the poor

And destitute know that napkins and cutlery should be served with the meal...

Nyam out yuh produce from the basket

And left you out ah door.

When one door close, another one open

And wide too

The Bahamas came to the rescue

On my trajectory

Straddling the "stateless' of Bahamian, Haitian and Jamaican lineages....

Carry yourself friend and your own load

Making me know God has knitted my destiny

And prepared me for a Bahamas reunion

All enfolded in one person who knew all

My "family" in the islands.

...The "arm of flesh will fail you ... you dare not trust your own"

"My hope is built on nothing less

Than Jesus blood and righteousness

I dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholly lean on Jesus name"...

We eventually wear down our welcome in this world

Indeed, God is splendid

Thanks Alex....

- Helen-Ann Elizabeth Wilkinson

 

Desperate for power

 

The rush it gives to conquer

The drive it pushes to torture

That forces him to make the helpless suffer

They think it makes them a leader

But in truth he is nothing but a dreamer

If the weak ever forgets to utter "Yes Sir"

His brain tells him he is succumbing to pressure

So he prey on the innocent to make him stronger

A good captain is not one who seeks to devour

But actually he whose goal is to empower

More important, the ability to be a listener

Instead, he always tries to be a defender

His fingers steadfast on the trigger

Ready to pull to make them surrender

But at the appointed hour

When it is time to deliver

The tail will be a failure

Because the head was just "desperate for power".

- Shuancie Barrett

 

It's over

 

I've stopped talking, you're not listening

I've stopped loving, you're not reciprocating

It's over, this nine day wonder was amazing

In love with myself, it was me I was fooling.

I'm not heartbroken, it was my choice

It's I who chose you, I've done this twice

You facilitated me, you didn't love me

You empathised with me, I was desperate and lonely

I'm tired of the show, it's taken a toll on me

Day after day, I kept pouring into you, now I'm empty

No WhatsApp, no email, no Imo, no communication at all

It's I who took the plunge, yes, it's I who have taken the fall

- Butterfly Ann