Poetry
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
Express yourself!
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Not all poems will be published.
