Poems

I all but forgot

i all but forgot

how to love

but then you

came

a little baby

a little lookalike

a little not so like

we were fitted with dress

same style different

colours

when, i hated then

but now love

i all but forgot

how to write

but then you took away my crayons

pens, typewriters

bookshelves

i want to give you more than furniture

my dear...

so i can’t stop

the camera just keeps rolling

so too does the radio

music

the beat of the distant

drum

my heart palpitating...

i all but forgot

how someone

could end your drawings

if they throw cold water

on the drafts...

you try to love

someone

who will never

can never love you

because

they are incapable of human love

or love at all...

men who silence you

cook their own food

because

their ritual worship

does not allow a woman chef

we are somewhat too unclean

for their consumption...

you fall asleep

and can’t remember

when you stopped or started

writing,thinking, calling, phoning,

it is a blur of memory, nightmare

reality, mixed messages,

but i understand

your anger now

the balding head

after chemotherapy....

every thing

is a jumble sale

and our Mother’s clothes

dumped to Salvation Army

i need salvation

Jesus, Jesus, keep me near de cross

there a precious fountain

free to all a healing stream

flow fram Calvary’s mountain.....?

the memory

of being snapped shot

by a passer-by

camera

on the grounds of

the UWI

just above the tamarind tree

sitting on the grass

little girls

almost twins, three years apart

red and yellow poui tree flowers

you yellow me red...

enjoying life

and our Mother

who was larger than life

who was life itself

bringing us into life

and joy

and singing

and choir chorales at the UWI Chapel

such memories....

and just when I am understanding

I say

not now

not you

not my family

why you gone

and leave

me here

to ponder

at the library

pounding away at keys

when

the door to your life is clocked

locked...

- Amy Kaye

------

Don’t soil the children

Don’t soil the sacred parts of children

With your unholy zeal!

Don’t tear away their innocence because of what you need.

Don’t let the children work with wounds

And stains

And shameful hearts.

Don’t rip into their lives like knives

And blow their dreams apart!

“A little child shall lead them” - it is said.

Though, a despoiled child can hardly lead with muddled head.

Create some puppets, then, to please yourselves

And spear the nation’s children from your vicious, sordid pleasures!

Seek help!

- Erica Brown Marriott

------

Morning Time

Pigeons feeding on the Earth

Nature in recline

When the sun comes out to shine

This is morning time

The whole garden

Is full of dew

Plants stretch towards the sky

Nature in its bounty flows

This is morning time

All God’s creatures

Yawn and stretch

Plotting out their day

Where they eat, where they prance

And also where they play

Sun bright behind the coconut tree

Welcomes a brand new day

Red and crimson blinds my eyes

Beauty in its rays

Birds sing in time

And crickets chime

And shrubs come out to lime…

When all of nature seems as one

In their own sweet time

It is at that time we know

That it is morning time.

- Lisa Gaye Taylor