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Poetry

Published:Sunday | November 18, 2012 | 12:00 AM

POEM OF THE WEEK

Music

Still the best gift I ever got! I love my MUSIC!

She never gives me attitude!

The notes of my heart play on the strings of hers, a harmonious interlude of things to come

Of days filled with her cords and nights filled with her strains

To many, she remains nameless but to me she is the pulse that moves me in rhythmic motions

To me, she is the ever-present, oh so familiar, compelling force that is my reason for existing.

She moves me, she soothes me and when I need to get lost, she looses me!

She is a presence, a force, a being, a person, an army, a team

She is over me, beside me, between. Me and living are at odds but me and her are great because she is my life

Living is existing but with her I don't just exist, I am alive

She touches me, she hugs me, she embraces me and all she asks is for me to be there, to fill my mind with her, till my body gestures hers

Other women know what we have and hate her

She is my guitar, my harp, my violin!

The world remains in awe when I play her strings

I love her

She is real, she is hard, she is steel

What we have? I would die if I lose it

Call her what you want

Call her names, but me? I call her music.

- Steno G. Morris


For a Season

I built a wall of dark moods,

Around my mind

But you hewed it down

And allowed the sunlight

To spill riotously like jewels

Into my morning.

I took swig after swig

Of self-pity and you cured

My addiction with summer-sweet words.

You warmed my ears

With the magic of your breath

And caused my cold heart

To awaken to the pulse

Of a new fire.

But you were never mine.

Never mine. Your freedom is

Entangled in the possessive clasp of

other hands.

You were just for a season.

- Rohan Facey


How could you?

An innocent victim of only eight

These kinds of pain excruciate!

How could someone be so unkind?

These must be men of unsound minds!

This kind of pain runs really deep

Are these men really able to sleep?

How could someone inflict such hurt?

We need to find them wherever they lurk!

How could the hearts of men be so mean?

To prey upon a baby who is barely weaned!

This is so heartless for even the teens;

The thoughts of these men are utterly unclean.

Hello people! It's time to speak;

We cannot afford to remain weak!

Listen to the cry of the baby so meek;

How could someone be such a freak?

As I turn my eyes towards the sky;

Lord, I know you heard their innocent cry!

The entire world is asking, why?

But, Lord, please comfort them, they're too weak to try.

- Terry-Ann Malcolm-Alleyne


Reggae Boyz

Amid a sea of black, green and gold

In the office when the ball 'a roll'

Or in the Aztec on some foreign shore

Fighting to level the score

How we love the colours that they wear

And how they represent our country without fear

Football fever's in the air

So everybody find a TV and draw near

Amid the shouting, screaming crowd

They fight to make our country proud

They are the Reggae Boyz

Warriors of the football field

Fighting to make our dreams into something real

Tappa leads the charge against foes small and large

Against Mexico or the US

In our World Cup quest so the world will know

In football and track and field 'dem nuh fi test'

They've had hills and valleys, highs and lows

But we'll support them any way it goes

Brave like Nanny, they march to battle

Well, we'll be there for every tackle

Celebrate every shot that makes the goal rattle

In our sofa or in the stands

For we are forever and always football fans

- Seon Lewis

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