Poems

My mask

Look beyond my mask

And see what you would ask

Beyond my smile and my feelings of being hostile,

Know, that same smile is the reason I cry;

The reason for my demise;

The reason I will never rise.

My mask is my greatest disguise,

As I look to the skies

I slightly die inside;

For no one will ever see my true eyes.

– Shanoya Morgan

Time to give us a break

Corona, it’s now time to give us a break…

We can’t bear it no more, too much heartache

It seems like a dream,

That makes you want to scream

Time to give us a break…

People are crying,

Many are dying

Time to give us a break…

Help is not enough,

These times are truly tough

Time to give us a break…

Many are starving from hunger

Not enough food to provide, any longer

Time to give us a break...

What a struggle to fight this virus

It’s no doubt, a hard task for us

Time to give us a break…

The young and old are feeling so much pain,

That is causing so much strain on the brain

Time to give us a break…

Everything seems confusing,

No joke many of us are losing

Time to give us a break…

What a fear upon God’s Land

Why is it so hard to understand?

Time to give us a break…

Some work forces have stopped,

And many businesses have dropped

Time to give us a break…

When will Corona die out?

Are the words we hear all about

Time to give us a break...

Coronavirus is no mistake,

It is time for us to be awake!

Time to give us a Break...

– Cornett Hunter

The day that was

That night she died so he could live

A lie

Tender-hearted, considerate, master of his game

Hardworking, interactive, lovable, charming

Masks of the thick callous interior

The violent temperament

The dog-heart coated with love and sweet melodies

The cold inner being

There she lay emotionless, motionless

Finished, job done

Curled into a foetal position

Screams drowned by the concrete walls

One witness

Silently cuddling the small being of a child,

Their child, oblivious of the fate of his mother

And the future of his father

See no evil, hear no evil

Watching her being pummelled like a boxer’s tool

The taste of blood on his hands

A smug look of satisfaction on his stone-cold face

Psychopathic, the diagnosis

She, pretty, erudite, charming,

‘Of good stock’ they said, she was

There she lay lifeless, pale,

With eyes, pretty hazel eyes that once exuded joy unspeakable

Reflecting her dark and weary soul

Now fixated on a distant place

Blank

Drained of life

– Audette Baillie

Our Cry

Don’t remove your hoodies

Or you might just get killed

Like Trayvon Martin

Or someone like him

Still so many black injustices

In the system

No matter how we try to show them

That we once were kings

So we’re marching with our placards

Like in the days of Martin Luther King

Black, White, Latino

Hope you’ll feel our sting

Moving with one accord

Paced to one rhythm…

Why do so many black youth

Have to pay the price?

Against police killings in foreign lands

Or even our own Isle?

It better stop now

Or you’ll pay the price

This war of black ’gainst white

Why must our black kids die like flies?

Black lives matter too

That’s our simple cry

Black youth matter too

Please don’t take their lives.

– Lisa Gaye Taylor