On my upcoming vacation
wouldn't mind going to
visit a creation museum,
for instance,
seeing the one in Kentucky
would be one of my life long dreams,
growing up I heard at
school a lot of evolutionary tales,
so in my youth I thought
we all used to be more
hairy and walk around
bent over like a neanderthal,
also believing that we were
all cave men and women
speaking unga-bunga words,
men hitting women over
the head and dragging them
around is really quite absurd,
thats why I admire the creation
archeologists like Dr. Carl Baugh
and many others in this field,
as they are always finding evidence
of intelligent design on
their archeology digs down
in the sedimentary layers
of the rock and lignite,
to me evolution is just
a backwards notion
that one day we will
evolve into gods and
is a total waste of time!
Psalm 14:1 The fool hath said in his heart that there is no God...
Out of the hills of St. Catherine and the plains of Linstead
emerge a warrior princess…
A victor not a victim of her circumstances, struggles or plight
Miss Claris
With warm, loving, industrial hands she raised a large bunch of children…
Curry saltfish, roti, curry goat, fried chicken,
Mackerel run-down, roast yam, bammy
She could cook it all…
Miss Claris
Fierce, blunt, tell it like it is –Miss Claris
She has an endless list of alias for everyone-
Miss Uptown (that’s me), Dunnie, Baugh, Tony, Pauline, Junie, Mellow, Mousy, Sueie, Manchin, Chu-cho, Lovene, Darkie, Sam, Tin-Tin, Troy, PAULINE
Miss Claris
A fantastic sense of style, unconventional sense of religion, devotion to family and friends and a beautiful smile:
Miss Claris
I came to rest
At the Edge's Mill Inn
But that old smell missed
I just smelled again.
The longing quenched
My surprise of you
Then I knew
The old smell here
Was that old smell there
In your home at Spring Ridge Farm
And the longing kept
Coming in waves.
So, I went up to my bed
In the Joseph Baugh room
Filled with seafaring things
And a theme of sailor dreams
Where I arose at three
And stole the silken rose
Red from those
In Gail's make-as-they-stay librarae.
Then swiftly like an old salt
Raising the main sail I drove
To Spring Ridge Farm
In the night
Where you slept
Inside with that old smell
That I could not smell
And left that rose not living
Trapped in your front door
And drove back
To the Edge's Mill Inn
To that old smell missed
I just smelled again.