from one candle
a scent can transport you
lost in paradise
Above green fields cane arrows rise,
A host of plumes against blue skies.
As they bloom they bring new life,
Yet echo times of toil and strife.
The arrows proudly lift their heads,
Where generations’ feet have tread.
Growing here is bitter-sweet,
As memory and landscape meet.
With every wave, with every sway,
They whisper tales of yesterday.
Of all that was, and yet may be,
A fleeting hymn to history.
Years ago I did so choose, to go on a Caribbean clipper ship cruise,
and, in addition to several other islands,
anchored off Nevis, northwest of Saint Kitts,
where, in the late 1780's, Nelson had lived,
and still bears traces of his presence today,
in various parts, pieces and bits.
When our windjammer Skipper informed us,
'Shopping here's good, snorkeling is bad,'
I avoided the former, sought out the latter,
and, as a matter of fact, a good time was had,
for no sooner had I ducked under,
two feet from the waterline,
in about one foot deep (shallow) water,
tho' visibility was, in inches, no more than nine,
I espied a white clay churchwarden pipe,
which I retrieved, broken, not whole,
with one third of the stem, and most of the tobacco-burned bowl.
1787, Nelson married the widow Fanny Nisbet on Nevis,
and, as the island he was about to depart,
'Desist smoking or else!'
Horatio may have heard her insist or impart,
and that which I found, I've a mind to say,
was his very last pipe, he'd reluctantly tossed overboard,
on that sunny day, when, as Captain of Boreas, he sailed away.
RASTA MY ASSASIN MURDERED AT MY FEET RETURNED WITH A PILE OF GRAVEYARD DIRT SEARCHING FOR THE OWNERS OF THE BAKERY A BAKERY ALREADY SOLD SWINDLED FROM THE OWNER IN THE END A CURSE PUT UPON ANYONE WHO TRIES TO CLAIM THE BAKERY TANGIBLE DEAL WITH THE DEVIL AFTER THE KILLING OF RASTA ANDREW THE BODY GUARD WAS FORCED TO MARRY THE DEAD MANS SISTER THIS MARRAIGE IN HELL WOULD LAST ONLY IF THE BODY GUARD NEVER SHOW INTEREST IN THE QUEEN HE SAVED THE BODY GUARD JAMAICAN FEMALE DESIGNED A ROOT ON HIS LIFE FORSAKENED WITH 9 NAILS 9 PINS 9 NEEDLES SADLY GRAVEYARD DIRT SHOES FROM THE INTENDED VICTIM OF WITCH CRAFT BACKFIRED BECAUSE THE BODY GUARDS HEART BELONGED TO THE QUEEN THIS ALLOWED THE VOODOO TO ATTACK THE BODY GUARD WITH SUDDEN MULTIPLE STROKES THE MORAL OF THIS STORY NEVER MAKE DEALS WITH THE DEVIL TANGIBLE LESSONS OCCURED WHILE RASTA ANDREW RETURNED FROM THE GRAVE WALKING BACKWARDS FAR FROM JAH FAR FROM HIS ROOTS
Harsh is the time of your birth
The bleaching sun, taking away all beauty of the earthly jade.
But out of this parched season,
You bring forth the passions of your ever living substance.
Whispers of the cool, dry winds
Wave your exquisiteness for all to see.
Canvasing the floor of the soft earth,
Beneath each towering tree.
The stately soft petal
Of your comeliness fall ever gracefully.
Like the rains, that you seemingly beckon
To come and drench the thirsting earth.
Your cries for the heavens
To bless the earth is without sound,
But great things occur in silence,
Just as the warm sun rises.
The God of the heavens
The great creator set you as a sign.
A herald of great tidings,
For the rain draweth nigh.
Not once, nor twice but as many as three times
Your passion is echoed.
Filling the land with hope,
That soon the watering of the earth will appear.
But alas, you are no more as the heavenly windows open,
And as the thirsty land drinks her fill,
Your passionate silent calls are needed no more.
We bid thee farewell till next mother nature calls.
Crazy!!
You’re driving me crazy, insane, mad, what a bam bam,
Anxiety have your psychologist, psychiatrist lead me to your promised land.
You're driving me crazy, insane, mad.
You have me on the borderline, jumpy, stressed, depressed, oppressed, traumatised victimized troubled, PTSD
You're driving me crazy, insane, mad.
Can't walk, can't talk, can't run, can't sing, can't dance,
Can't look, not a chance no remarks
You're driving me crazy insane, mad with your fancy freedom plan like a one man band, you have destroyed all my plans
You're driving me crazy, insane, mad.
Stab me in the back claimed you're trying to save me from self-attack;
Slit wrist, body mutilation but you're the one with the dagger in the hand
Am I crazy, insane, mad?
You're driving me crazy insane mad.
Have me battered, strangled, kidnapped, shot, manipulated,
lynched, isolated, incarcerated for crimes you have perpetrated
You're driving me crazy insane, mad.
But am I really crazy, insane, mad or is this a part of your systemic plan?
Fish a floating coconut from edge of the Caribbean Sea
Hux the outermost part with a machete
See its brown hairy shell hard as a rock,
Pierce its eyes, which will rain healing waters.
Cut out the white meat for lunch or dessert!
Create some ornament from its polished shell.
*
I’m sure I was dreaming.
I could never afford to travel
To the most beautiful island
The world could provide.
Yet there I was swimming
In warm clear aquamarine seas.
Out on the sand the view was stunning.
Houses built on the sea itself,
An aroma of shellfish and chicken
Filled the pure air. I was hungry.
But I had no money, dressed in a bathing suit.
Someone called me and I was offered
A plate of aromatic food.
I ate it slowly, savoring delicious victuals.
Then my newfound friend took me for a walk.
I saw purple crabs scuttling sideways
Whilst at the edge of a forest
So lovely and tender, some mousedeer
Were pasturing quietly in the shade.
Then I realised how hot the midday sun was.
And I woke on my bed, sweating.
It was bliss to linger under a shower.
Caribbean Dream....
A schooner swoons over sapphire sea,
Eager the look in your eye,
She leans to the wind as you lean to me,
There are no dark clouds in the sky,
Oh the easy breezes gentling skin
Tomorrow moves like the horizon
The warm deep blue invites you in
And your beauty fills my eyes, On
The helm your hand and the other in mine,
I see your face full of wonder,
Neath spreading sails she moves so fine
You ask me where shall we wander?
There's an island new for you every day,
There's coves and reefs for exploring,
The under-scenes take our breath away
And there's peace with every mooring,
There's a warm wind waiting to take us there,
The pliant palms are beckoning,
Their blessing for lovers everywhere
And the end of our dead reckoning,
If cosmic voyages have no end
And we set sail together,
If you're my love, and too, my friend,
Then this must be forever...............
The tide rolls in and out
The seagulls scream and
The breeze blows
The sand Is warm
And the water is cool.
The sun shines with laughter and fun
The fish swim in schools and the dolphins
In a pod
This Is Serenity
PORT ROYAL
You want to see the fate that was Port Royal’s?
Then let me flyyou back three hundred years:
look in this tavern, see those buccaneers,
flushed more from fiery grog than honest toils,
who soon would dice away their ill-won spoils;
then hear the thunder roaring in their ears
as underfoot all firmness disappears
and round their throats the rising ocean boils!
Now marvel as this port, the stamping-ground
of pirates on their hellish pleasures bent,
by quake and flood is shaken flat and drowned.
Then tell me, when that fury has been spent,
if you, like some, believe that God had frowned
on Man and to his anger given vent!
Port Royal, Jamaica, 1672
Ah, you painted the snail! I said, in an ignorant way.
No, she replied. She was born like that in the Caribbean.
But I am not used to snails from anywhere other than Canada Bay.
So I think maybe you are fibb-E-in.
By Craig J. Burt/Jimmy Boom Semtex
I'm drunk tonight
I'm swelling deep down inside
I'm ready to take on
The next big bang
Oh yes it makes me wanna sang...
There we go some more drink
And fine Cuban cigars
Amazulu on the decks
Time to get all Caribbean
Come and sit on my knee
Bring the rum and Redstripe
We’ve got all night long to smile
the banana split breakfast
in glass bottom boat
blackberries and raspberries
afloat in yogurt
almonds, coconut
silver spoon
S W E E T
1/15/2019
I am the prettiest tarantula in the Caribbean Sea
My web is the most intricate of my kind, a cone in a tree.
When I get larger my tummy turns red, and my legs turn purple-green.
Anole lizards are my absolutely favorite cuisine.
Written 8-29-2018 Personification Poem Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
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