Best Sharpe Poems
Jamaica is our island’s name,
A land blessed with so much fame.
And for the part that our heroes did play,
We pause to reflect and salute them today.
Nanny of the Maroons was a heroine ,true and brave ,
And fought with all her might not to be a slave.
Marcus Mosiah Garvey made us proud of our Black race,
And everywhere he went there was pride on his face.
Paul Bogle of Stony Gut fought for justice for all,
And the powers that be had no choice but to listen to his call.
Norman Washington Manley defended workers’ rights with passion,
And fought with all his might to change every unjust working condition.
Sir Alexander Bustamante was a stalwart for workers everywhere,
And was the voice of the voiceless and spoke without fear.
George William Gordon stood tall to help the poor with their plight,
And he never backed down or turned away until things were made right.
Sam Sharpe listened and he heard what the planters said,
But he stood tall and bravely said, “No more slavery,I’d rather be dead.”
We have been blessed with a great legacy and we are a proud nation,
And our unsung heroes and heroines continue to rise to the occasion.
We must unite against the common foe and guard against complacency,
We must be resilient like our heroes and safeguard our rich legacy.
A legacy of greatness , hard work and resilience in every community,
A legacy of talent, ambition, skills and self-worth in every nook and cranny.
No retreat! no surrender! we will continue to blaze a trail,
And as the blood of our ancestors runs through our veins, we will prevail!
Not by sight but by great might, we will continue the fight,
As we vow to conquer the common foe and make things right.
And just like our heroes did , we will stand tall with pride and decency,
As we salute our heroes and safeguard our rich, bountiful legacy.
Categories:
sharpe, celebration, change, character, confidence,
Form:
Rhyme
With my Patriotic Self
I played this song for our National Heroes
“Forward, Forever United”
But the words felt hollow to my ears
Because no longer do these represents what we have become
A society which has failed to grow,
Stagnant and Toxic with the stench of death
Getting riper and riper throughout the years
With my Patriotic Self
I played this song for our National Heroes
“Forward, Forever United”
And I see the corruption, the pollution
Politricktions fooling the nation
While we walk in blindness
Embracing the Technological evolution
Thinking we have progressed,
Oh! What a delusion!
With my Patriotic Self
I played this song for our National Heroes
“Forward, Forever United”
Then News Flash! A man just beheaded a woman!!
People living lesser than human,
From the refuse of society they feed their children
Mothers pimp daughters to Dons for protection
Fathers give sons their first thousand amunition
For their guns because “my yute affi have him weapon”
With my Patriotic Self
I played this song for our National Heroes
“Forward, Forever United”
And I hear our Heroes weep
In their graves because their deaths now have no meaning
To a nation hell bent on continuously demeaning
The legacy left behind by them, our National Heroes
Nanny, Sam Sharpe, Paul Bogle , George William Gordon
Marcus Garvey, Norman Manly and Alexander Bustamante
With my Patriotic Self
I pray that Jamaica, Land we Love
Will shine again in Her glory
Then we will sing again our Heroes' story
“Forward, Forever United
Students, Workers and Farmers...”
Categories:
sharpe, grief, patriotic,
Form:
Chant Royal
Just because we wish it so, means not that it will pass;
this lesson’s one we all must learn in the Gamecock class.
Runs my blood, it’s red and black---garnet the deepest hue,
any orange is anathema, do not this misconstrue.
They always fought with all their heart, especially on game day,
ran out to strains two thousand one, sandstorm on white display,
from first kickoff to last tackle, they’d hit with abandon,
they feared no foe, this fact is true, but seldom champion.
Football saints are lively here, from Rogers to Norwood,
When Lattimore took the field, we always felt they could,
defeat all squads, from Florida to the great North land,
and many others in between, I’m sure you understand.
Jadeveon polished our fame, no one could say “Who dat?,”
he pulverized a Wolverine, and handed Smith his hat.
Sidney Rice and Sterling Sharpe could surely catch that ball,
while Alshon and McKinley too, flew often past them all.
Sheldon Brown and John Abraham were known to give a lick,
while Swearinger and Gilmore too, could make a tackle stick.
Ryan Brewer bowled them over, while Succop split the posts,
Connor Shaw and Phil Petty racked up the winning boasts.
So many more graced our field, their names are not forgot,
Wharton and Boyd, Culliver and Ellis, and even A. Pinnock.
Munnerlyn, DiMarco too, and who could forget Ace Sanders?
Ajiboye and Cunningham, were not gridiron outlanders.
Kalimba, Ko, Dunta and Zola, we’ve surely had strange names,
But on the field they won our hearts, and more than a few games.
Faison to Watson, and all others, who flashed their spurs with pride,
we celebrate each footballer who’s graced the Gamecock side!
Categories:
sharpe, football, sports,
Form:
Rhyme
Death, it is a sad way to go,
to leave this earth, dressed in your Sunday best
While faces surround you with tears
breaking the barriers of their emotions
tearing their hearts apart, looking down
upon my stone face, upon the face, lays a simplistic smile
that shows no emotion, no teeth, no life.
Death, it is a sad way to go.
People hurry, say their goodbyes,
but when your alive,
they never come around, they never call, they never even think
of you and how you are feeling.
While you walk the streets, with a smile on your face,
nothing but knives stick sharpe in my back and gossip
burns a hole in my soul and heart;
but I keep on walking and smiling.
I keep rolling on through like a summer hurricane
tears apart a coastal city in the heat of June weather,
Walking till death comes to shake my hand and grin at my soul.
Then as you lay their in your casket
with a buqouet of your favorite flowers, (Roses and Tulips)
they sit around you, the same faces, the same blind eyes
and they all shed tears and says good things.
Too late for that don't you think?
Death, it is a sad way to go, but what relief you get,
when finally departing in peace and leaving the drama
and careless people in your life.
After I am put six feet under, a week of crying passes,
After two weeks I am lost and long forgotten,
nothing but a stone at my cranium to keep me company
and my new friends, who sleep along next to me.
Dead and forgotten, but the dead never forget their fellow lost souls.
Only the living forget such souls that were so good to them,
now they are gone,
I am gone.
How do you feel, now that I am gone?
Death, it is a sad way to go, but what peace you recieve in Paradise.
Categories:
sharpe, absence, blue, body, community,
Form:
Free verse
A night of astral castle building
This illusionist skin became sag
Dropped fleshed , Sharpe human
Abhorrently mirror transfixed
Naked in her bathroom,
The nectar calling
Dreamed spiritually with a mouth
Remembering last nights sleep
Mother made with love
Daisies in Jell-O, militia told to eat
Sickening me with pedal-taste
Categories:
sharpe, introspection
Form:
Free verse
In the darkness of my closet
I lay on my back...crying
Orange Handled knife in my hand...heart racing
Shapeless emotions coursings through my mind
Tear drops...salty salty tear drops fill my ears
Cold Sharpe knife prickes my already damaged skin
My closed eyes pop open
The knifes drops to the floor immediately
The front door opened
...mom came home
I didn't cut that night
Thanks mom.
Categories:
sharpe, butterfly, emotions, mother, thanks,
Form:
Death rides in fast on his large pale horse
hooves violently gliding over gravel
nothing can stop him or alter his course
An enigma for you to unravel
his hooded cloak black covering white bones
his sharpe scythe gleams in pale moonlit night
he'll ignore your pleas and laugh at your groans
he is the angel of the dark and light
You will only ever glance him one time
once you've seen, there is no turning away
you will hear 'come with me, for you are mine'
far too late for hope, much too late to pray
look into his eyes, there are none deeper
and know you're face to face with the reaper.
Categories:
sharpe, death, fantasy
Form:
Sonnet
The Hawk flys overhead
soaring everlasting in circles
around the poor field mice.
six o'clock.
The Red Sun is now parrallel
to the treeline in the West.
Six o'clock
Dinnertime.
The hawk dives down, like a speeding bullet
and snatches up a small mouse, who was walking
along the corroded barbwire fence,
with his sharpe and dangerous talans.
Six o'clock. Feeding time.
A lover is now gone from the world of field mice,
Just like that.
With the turn of a hand on a clock
Six o'clock.
With the rumble of a Hawk's empty stomach
now a fellow mouse is gone. Forever.
Sad, isn't it?
Categories:
sharpe, absence, analogy, animal, bird,
Form:
Free verse
I am stuck inside this ugly and
misty hallways of pain.
While your anger crawls and
splashes upon my soul, forcing
me to feel patches of shame.
Your wicked behavior pulled me
down to the depths of black hell.
Disrespectful words, twisting
and slicing my lost heart, tears
oddly fell.
Darkness stuck inside my heart,
stabbing it with hateful strife.
Your blade cold and Sharpe,
carving, cutting and disecting
my life.
Depressed as bitterness and
despair lay at my feet.
Struggling to maintain my
sanity, this relationship is now
shattered and obsolete.
Categories:
sharpe, depression
Form:
ABC
Orange pumpkin sat
Upon dining room table
Sliced by long sharpe knife
"Twas spicy brown on inside
Frosting and icing cream cheese
Sponsor: Black Eyed Susan
Contest: Single Tanka
Categories:
sharpe, food, life, seasons,
Form:
Tanka
Autumn is a frozen church
We wait at heavy doors
That smell of rust,
Not a Moon cold enough
To be called heartless
Or breathclouds of old steam
More an estuary of
Dumped mist afraid to ice;
The taste of wax on your lips,
A frame of hair round a
Hatted face, out steps as slow
As if we must tread water,
You are ice and rain and
The first crystals and even
More than this, beside me.
(for Carl Sharpe)
Categories:
sharpe, autumn,
Form:
Free verse
I cannot forget
So easily how many died this good season
I must not regret
The Christ who alone died for the best of reason
But when Tacky fell
And all the slaves in banished freedom died in vain
My anger still swell
Against that colonial treason. O disdain!
Then Sam Sharpe like Christ
Heard the throng, and the wicked gallows faced alone
I count treason thrice
And yet know once more
How Rastafarians hunted like pennd hogs fell, cast
By a lie that tore
Into the heart of some close to me. Hate too passed.
Easter now again
The season of insurrections and rebellions
The time to audit pain
Against the powers that rule trampled minions
Always at this time
Comes the blow against human worth and our freedom
In this haunted clime
I will avoid Jerusalem till our God come.
Categories:
sharpe, political,
Form:
Verse
In the clear winter air, Robin sings
Perched on branch in hawthorn tree
Sweet melody such happiness brings
Feeling the song is just for me.
Sharpe eyed aware eyes so bright
Curious friend shows me no fear
Red-breasted robin joyful sight
Garden constant throughout the year.
Pleasure gained is my reward
Sight of winter tranquility
Hawthorn tree does daily afford
Moments of nature's simplicity.
Pixabay image by Vinsky2002
Categories:
sharpe, nature, winter,
Form:
Rhyme
Tear is a sword of poor,very sharpe and power.Wiping all poor’s tear come near to God certain his dear!
Categories:
sharpe, care, confidence, evil, feelings,
Form:
Blank verse
State Bound
State all the way
Way of life
Way of the day
Day to night
Day to life
Life is legit
Life is honoring
Honoring veterans
Honoring all people
People are crazy
People are smart
Smart as God
Smart as math
Math sucks
Math is stupid
Stupid as the devil
Stupid as Rocks
Rocks are heavy
Rocks are strong for all
All the pieces
All the glass
Glass will cut you
Glass is sharp
Sharp as a knife
Sharpe as love
Love is amazing
Love is Hurtful
Hurtful as a knife
Hurtful as a broken bone
Bone headed
Bones that shattered
Shattered like my life
Shattered like my dreams
Dreams become reality
Dreams are wishes
Wishes don’t come true
Wishes sometimes hurt
Hurt like love
Hurts like life
Love…….
Hurts…….
Categories:
sharpe, life,
Form:
Blitz