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