Poem

Jamaica Pride

We were in love for a moment, weren’t we?

seeing the world through rose-tinted glasses

giddy with excitement

butterflies flitting around in our stomach … or were those hummingbirds?

Patriotism rings loud like a proud, old bell,

awakened from sleep by Jamaica 50.

Black, green and yellow dance happily across our eyes

bouncing on the ends of school girls’ plaits

sweeping through ribbons tied on bus stops and street signs.

Every corporate building draped in glory

every street corner splashed with pride

Half Way tun inna Little London

with dutch pots banging and fans screaming

as we tek first, second and third in one race.

Black, green and gold

with more gold, silver and bronze per capita

than any other country in the world

“to di worl’!!”

And then we woke up,

with our heads splitting open from the hangover of Jamaica 50,

the death and debt glaring painfully in our newspapers

in the harsh light of the morning after,

the ecstasy and escape of the last eight months of celebration

stinging and scalding as they slip suddenly through our fingers.

But even in this we have hope.

Throughout 350 years of slavery

470 years of colonisation

being free for only a tenth of the time

we’ve been bought, beaten and broken

there’s always lingered a day called Today.

Today

they climb treetops

bark as dark as their skin

eager to have their freedom kissed awake

by August’s first dawn.

Today

she touches her belly gently

and whispers to the child that lies within

“You won’t be born the slave your mother was.”

Today

he bends to say to his little boy

“Your daddy was born a resident of a colony,

but you, son, can grow up a citizen of your own country.”

Today

we drape Jamaica across our shoulders

carry her like Atlas

since we’re known across the whole atlas.

Today

we wield the weight of glory not the burden of shame

even with the crime and with the debt

because we know the wounds they bled from.

Today

we see beauty in our scars

because it means we lived to tell the tale.

Today

we are genocide once

slavery twice

freedom forever.

Today we are likkle but Tallawah

Today, we are an island but we never stand alone

And today, if God’s people, who are called by His name

will humble themselves, seek His face and turn from their wicked ways

our Eternal Father will bless our land.

This poem was written on the occasion of Jamaica 50, the essence of which still holds relevance.

Kacy Garvey is the featured performer for the upcoming Monthly Fellowship of the Poetry Society of Jamaica. Fellowships are held at the Edna Manley College for Visual and Performing; the next staging will take place at 7 pm on August 29.