Poems

Place of Refuge

In the bar is where I seek refuge

They are playing Dennis Brown on the Juke Box

It seems like a step into the ancient

The mixture of rum and milk warms my throat

The smell of fresh marijuana burning clears the stuffiness in my nostrils

I rock slowly to the beat

I am beginning to feel mellow

I am oblivious to the bodies around me

It has been a rough three weeks

Teachers dropping like mosquitoes exposed to the black coil

I wonder if it was because of high levels of stress in their lives

I wonder if additional burdens thrust upon them encompassed their minds

I wonder if the low wages they receive just frustrated them to give up and die

Everyday they come to work with smiles mandated with the responsibility to shape lives

But their struggle is extraordinary only a psychiatrist can explain their complicated minds

The skill of parenting lost in the Golden age

The majority of the masses blaming teachers for their children's failure

Some don't even know the subjects their children do

The only time they are seen is when there is a conflict with the child at school

I wonder if those driving the SUVs care about us

I guess I could answer with the obvious

I enjoy a drink from time to time in the company of friends

It clears my thoughts and prepares me for the gloomy days ahead

- Jomo Mckoy