Poems

Rose

The trials of life truly bite

With teeth of lion they grip, rip and tear

The burdens of life are hard and many

Some live on the streets without a penny

Some live in sorrow, fear and pain

The level of pain only God understand.

Rose has cancer eating at her bones, but not her soul

Months of chemotherapy brought no relief

Stage one, two, three, four Rose is going home

Like a caterpillar to a butterfly she change from fat to slim

Slowly sending out her eternal wings.

She wet my shoulders for she was not ready to soar

The life of a beautiful rose is fleeting fast

It bloom only for a season, it do not last

God promise always to love and lend a hand

To feed the hungry, clothe the naked of his land

One touch of his finger and all sickness can heal

God can cure each and every disease

Some he heal and some return to rest with thee.

Pricked by thorn Rose cannot breathe

The hour has come for this gentle tree

Soon it will be cut down and no longer be

A time for a whisper, a time for prayer

It’s time to say good bye.

- Patree Haynes

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Squatters who stole my memories

Literary Work from childhood

To above twenty-five

‘Those Fingers’ stole memories

I had all my life

They took chairs

Figurines, clothes, beds and all

They took and they took

Scrapped our House

Took it all

‘Those Fingers’ are now living

Like Kings in our other House

Intimidating and harassing

Knocking off locks

Prowling ‘roun

Opening gates

For the goats

To eat our farm down

Sharing our water

With ‘Miss Cherry’s’ daughter

Look how everything

Now belongs to ‘di owna’

I’m angry most

They stole and destroyed

My Books and Creative Art

But with God at the helm

Things will soon

Fall apart.

- Lisa Gaye Taylor

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Call for a change

Alright, we get it now

It may have been for a while, but I’m presenting it out loud

The cries are not going to stop

So, oppositions and leaders of this country

Come together and put aside your foolish mockery

We get it; you are doing as you please

We know it’s for only your greed

Yet, we don’t have a problem with it at all

So, yes, we know it’s your call

Don’t allow the country to further stall

Under what you call restrictions to help us all

If your worries are about the country sinking from this COVID ship

Then let’s move towards all government workers doing a shift

It’s not fair to have these people sitting, I mean working from home

Getting paid whether today or tomorrow

While others look forward to the same days as sorrow

Some days they are hardly rolling out of bed

Other days they don’t feel like working to the end

These are the things running the economy red

It’s bleeding the pocket of the poor

The rain from Mr Rainy Day has already down poured

We are now at the point of asking

Mr Prime minister, what more?

Social distance is only at building doors

Just as you enter, temp check and sanitise before you wander the floors

So, what about the before?

Between jam-pack supermarkets

Rushing to find a taxi to get home

It’s bound to happen where someone breaks the hours in which we are asked to uphold

There are no ways for us to even the score

We are marching, talking and now we are sore

It’s a six sense, the one we call moral

So, it’s time to take a real tour

Not like the ones when you go door to door

Let’s go to any town but start in Kingston

Given it’s Jamaica’s main hub

They sell everything that’s under the sun

Except for the cure for COVID but of course

You see me, him, her or us?

You must!

Because we are all standing together without a fuss

This COVID isn’t real! It doesn’t affect us!

At least that’s what they all say

Everyone has their way

The mask is needed for sure

But by whom?

No one adheres amongst the crowd

Most to all are still dealing close

Some are even ready to stand and make a pose

Showing their ignorant might

Ready to stall against the COVID fight

It’s clear from that line of sight

We must fight

But not when most to all are starving by the fall of night

- Makonnen Solomon

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When pain strikes

When pain strikes

In the invisible parts

Of heart, of mind, of soul;

When no panacea avails

To rescue the grieving soul ...

No avenue for the heart

To be made whole ...

The body drained of impulse

Takes its toll,

And would crumble -

But the Spirit takes control

Buoys up the heart, the mind, the soul

Lifts the thoughts

To a higher dimension

Where Hope floats in perpetuation

As unabated wafts unfold

That Grace and Mercy

Prevail for the hurting soul!

- Hyacinth Burgess-Gregory