Beautiful, for a black girl

Straight, narrow nose

Small, pouty, pink lips

High cheekbones

Wavy locks

You are beautiful

For a black girl, they say

My heart aches

Racial prejudice

Still lives on in the 21st century

western world

They have an obvious

preference

for the mocha-coloured

Scandinavian girl

To not have

Broad, flared nose

Wide, full lips

Round cheeks

Nappy, coarse hair

Is my good fortune?

I shall shun your Eurocentric

standard

Your world of black is not

beauty

To tell me

I am beautiful

You may

But don't you dare tell me

I am beautiful, for a black girl.

- Shelly-Ann Woolery

A new year

The ageless ocean

voice on yonder shore

Beats the same sounds as the

year before

There is seemingly no difference

Will there be no indication

That the new year is a better

situation than last year?

Dark clouds glower at the earth

Gloomily no different than a

year no more

Christmas spirit we vainly hoped

would endure

But the sun seems to gallop his

usual berth

Smiling, indifferent, warm and gay

And streams gurgle their usual

way to the sea

Can't they go uphill the other way?

Just some hope of change for us

to see

That the new year will be

different from the last

And hope in God should never

be lost

Why should the future seem the

same

As it was the year before?

The only difference there will be

more

Playing at our tragic game

Of births and deaths and motor

cars

More nuclear bombs and rumbles

of wars

More houses and schools to build

More mouths to feed and less

resources to spend

More wrongs to right and less

justice to defend

Women and children will

tremble, men to fear

More and more will be many a

tear

Will there be no relief from pain,

the whole world some sanity to

gain?

Will there be more diseases to

fight, fun running rampant,

More fortune to try, more prizes

freely to grant

Less labour, more dreams to win,

More discontent, less joy at the

workplace

Uncertainties galore day to day

to face?

Hope is a promise

Roses to smell and money may

jingle

And love is a ploy to make the

skin tingle

Will the new year be the same

As the previous year or better or

worse

That we must look to in chapter

and verse?

Last year seemed like God on a

holiday went

Will He go on another vacation

This year, as usual

Wind up the world and leave it

to spin,

Give man more holidays to sin?

Was He deeply asleep last year,

While the world went on a

raging spree?

Or did He his anger vent

On hapless man refrained to relent?

Will He rise.

Or will he let the years get worse,

Praying man, praying to remind

Him

That He has a world that's

badly run

When men are empowered to

rule by gun?

Why is there no manifestation,

Except what is told by preaching

men?

Here and now we need redemption,

Not later. This new year.

- Oren Cousins

The path to happiness

Life, I've discovered is but our

vain attempt at happiness

Be it love, wealth, success,

recognition

Or any such self-indulgent

moment

That may last years, even a

lifetime

But is never eternal

This Christmas I've discovered

the love of family among people

I'm not related to by blood

I've realised

that love is not always happiness

it is a commitment to truth

which may mean withholding

truth

at times

It is reconciliation often

unrewarded

Saying you're sorry when you

weren't wrong

Holding that person who just

aggravated

you until truth is known

That the path to happiness is

often the way of pain.

- Nicholas Alexander

Secret societies

I see them lurking in the

shadows

I hear their whispers in the dead

of night

Demons juggling the sixes

using men as puppets

Stealing the spirit of innocence

Like vampires, they prey on the

sleepers

Hungry for blood

Their shackles and chains did

bind me

Shuttling me off, like herds to

some distant land

Away from my secrets, away

from what I know

They disarmed me, my eyes

closed

Still in slumber I wait

Half the stories have never been

told

So many skeletons, so many

skulls, so many bones

For if your oath you break then

your life they will take

Trading my jurisdiction over my

soul for a password, a kiss,

a handshake.

Welcome to the brotherhood

they say

Secret societies, their secret

keeps them one step ahead of me

Secret societies, manipulating

our destiny

Secret societies, they have

taken control

Secret societies, now they are

trying to take my soul

They oil me down for the

auction; and how much am

I worth, a penny, perhaps?

- SJR. Barnett

That Brettonwoods couture

One jacket, one jacket

Straight and square

A pant, a pant

Not round should be

A shirt of Occidental style and

stitch

No curve, no sphere or

sundry slit

For the tubby, the thin, the

in- between

For the starving and oh so

very obese

Cut it, sew it, mend it for me

Brand it Brettonwoods

One size for all.

- Nicholas Richards

Monday's zombies

Monday is born

The zombies awaken

In straight jackets of suit and tie

Making their way by childhood

ambitions

Father circumstance

Has broken dry

There goes a doctor

There goes a lawyer

There lays the broken image of

themselves

There goes hundreds of unhappy

people

Walking around - ghosts

Of the self they dreamt.

- Lisa Gaye Taylor

Untitled

Did you ever love, need or

want me?

I remember what you smell like

What the texture of your hair

feels like

How soft your skin is

Your entire attire flashes through

my memory

It's like a tsunami crashed into me

When you said you were

leaving me

Did you know you were killing

everything good in me?

We used to stargaze in many ways

At the night sky in the moonlight

There's a sparkle in your right eye

These memories can't be faded

I don't want to remember it

Every time I see you it's like a

flood that rushes in

I'm drowning in remembering

I can't breathe when I see you

There's no air when I'm

around you

I struggle to catch my breath

With the chaos you cause

All organisation washed away

leaving nothing but destruction

I'm a mess, I haven't shaved in

weeks

this bearded physique

Stains on my white tee, my place

is a mess

By the look on my face you can

tell that I'm stressed

now I hardly sleep

and the question pops up, did

you ever love me?

- Craig Melbourne

Teacher does more

As I said thanks

Again to

Professor Brown

For breakfast on a

Freezing cold Canadian

Morning as he read

Again another chapter

For my Master's thesis

I reflected again

A teacher

Is a great person

Taking you beyond yourself

To become yourself

It is the multiplier effect

Knowledge

That is

Passed on

Grows

Returns to

Keep you

Warm

Like a student

Who scores

An

A grade

In English language

A teacher can

more do

As this passes

I say

Thanks as I always

Have

In living times

To Honourable Professor Rex

Nettleford

At his inauguration

That was his birth

And christening

He took time to

Read my essays

Review, critique

and applaud

You need endorsement

From a great mind

Beating drums

Professor Chevannes

In Caribbean culture

Teaching session

We would meet together

At the table

And discover we did not all need

to see eye to eye

Now, goodbye

The booming voice of John

Maxwell

Both

A beat that never dies

For the journalist

At CARIMAC was

Taught to be forthright

Questioning, enquiring

University of the West Indies

brings the

Best to the feet of their

Graduates

Scholars all

investigative journalism by

60 minutes we were taught

Dr Hermi Hewitt

Takes you to the bar

And calls you brave

Captain Lincoln Thaxter

Calabar University

Calligraphy

Paves the way for

New knowledge

And diplomacy

Wherever they are

Here and somewhere else

A teacher lives on forever

and can more do

A teacher forms

an everlasting army of experts

for no one man can work

24 hours

seven days a week

for eternity

A teacher does more than do.

- Helen-Ann Wilkinson

This Christmas

This Christmas I will be silent

As I listen to silent nights

Muted choir, imaginary melodies

Recession blues have kept me

Grilled in, praying for silent nights

This Christmas let's strike the

right note

Jolly days are numbered

Counting my blessings

A child is born, brings joy to the

world

Santa Claus patrolling the ghetto

this season

Heavily armed with no reason

Still I am dreaming of a white

Christmas

As the drought robbed me of a

drink of sorrel

No ham in my crib, just

empty barrel

This Christmas is just reindeer

games

Nothing change, hungry days

just the same

Kings of orient afar ... we all fear

Bringing taxes for this Christmas

cheer

A sip of strong liqueur to lift the

spirit

Burden of sorrow has expanded

beyond limit

Save us Oh Bruce Almighty this

time around

Lift your magic wand

Keep us sound

Away in a manger, no crib for

a bed

Nightmare have taken over my

nightly rest

Am I really blessed? All I feel

is stress

This Christmas I need to find

a way

As I dream of brighter days

Oh come all ye faithful to our

world

Let's deck the halls with

flickering lights

Bridge light, fake meter no

matter the cost

Without a time of joy we're

forever lost

Peace and goodwill to one and all

Santa Claus finally doing ghetto

house calls

This Christmas only bells jingle

all the way

Weightless pockets, empty plates

Still I thank God I'm alive to see

another Christmas

So each year all I look for is to

have life

So I can say Merry Christmas to

my neighbour

As I rise to the morning sun, this

Christmas day.

- Ricardo Henderson

Balloons

Red, white, blue and green

Beautiful colours, never before

seen

Mylar balloons saying, 'I Love

You'

Heart-shaped or faces stuck on

with glue

Balloons made of latex

Very small or decorated in

checks

Balloons for decorating

Or designed for partying

Walls of balloons and those for

Christmas

Balloons decorated with flowers

that is a must

Balloons on sticks or floating in

the air

Glued together or tied with much

care

Damaged and bursting with a

loud 'POW'

Remain beautiful when

designed, creating a 'WOW'

Place this teddy bear inside the

balloon

To decorate a gift for your

birthday which will be soon

At the reception or at home

Appreciated by even those who

are grown

Balloons in pink, purple, black

or peach

Used together or designed of one

colour each

Large balloons for the archway

Designed in a spiral, that

special way

Long balloons called spaghetti

Tied into different shapes, at

least 80

Design enhanced by curly ribbon

Or pieces of fabric, such as

chiffon.

- Mebs Picasso

Where is my car?

You said I'd get my car today

Each time I call, there's some

delay

Last week there was priming

before spraying

Three days ago you said it was

raining

Then it rained for two days

I really do not like your ways

Yesterday you claimed the job

was complete

Although the deadline you did

not meet

So finally it's vacuuming and

cleaning of interior

And I felt a little cheerier

Today is finally here and you say

you're washing the engine

It seems the job is starting all

over again

Excuses, lies and promises

Delays over the past 18 days,

It seems you are up to no good

You are not acting as you should

Today has passed and it's now

tomorrow

Will I see my car again, or will

there be more sorrow?

- Mebs Picasso

A mother's heart

It's like silk, so soft

with comfort

A mother's heart is like sugar

So sweet, but can be sour at

times

But still, all the love goes out

to you

Who can have a mother's heart

like a mother?

Not a sister

Not a brother

Not a grandfather

Not a cousin

Definitely not a father but

A grandmother can do

Only a mother can give all the

love

and comfort you need

Because a rose is as tender

As a mother's heart

My mother's heart.

- Tina Miller

Temptress

Watch and see - she comes -

she comes!

Vile, old buzzing temptress,

hell-sent

To seduce fathers, lovers, sons

And take our hearts from them.

She cares not if it be day or night

The hour,hardly relevant

She captures them, no thought

of time

No rest in her descent

The weak, they yearn for her

embrace

Soft arms and tender kisses

Do urge them to make haste

Toward herfigure in the mist

In war, stretched are her legs

Her favours not caught by tolls

But her crooked smile earned

when we beg

For dear men's souls.

- Janelle Levy

Pain

Day to day I struggle

Thoughts constantly crowding

my mind

Where to turn?

To whom must I go?

Have I lost my way?

Still, I go on, in utter pain, for I

must strive, I will survive!

No matter what the cost may be

What have I done?

Who have I become?

These questions constantly

plaguing my mind

Then I hear a small voice say,

my child, my child,

Many others feel this way

So do not stray

Rather, you should stay on the

path set out for you

But still, but still I am confused

For my path I cannot seem to

find

But I'll leave it to time

For my mountain I must climb.

- Coreen Stephens

Send us your poems!

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7 North Street, Kingston or via email at
editorial@gleanerjm.com.
Not all poems will be published.