This is a tale
A story of a Caribbean nation
On a beautiful island
Where waves dance
On the shores of a bitter history.
This is a tale
Of a nation, small yet mighty
Caught between battles
Like a football match
Fought not with feet but with hearts and minds.
This is a tale
Of a match that never played
Yet the stadium was full
The crowd, expectant, breathless.
This is a tale of Cuba
An unfinished saga
Of a land ensnared
In a war of ideas
Over 50% of high school marchers
cannot identify the 'river'
and think it's the 'Carribean Sea'
Why pay the kids to march, Mr. Soros
their meaningless chants bore us
Pay them instead to take geography classes
so they don't appear be such dumb asses
Christmas in Newyork
Fresh pigeon peas, jug Gug, a leg of pork
Turkey well marinated, freshly bake coconut bread
Line up to be place in the old brick oven,
Hammering above the windows as the rods goes up
Freshly varnish floor, glistening under the old oil lamp
Here I am once again alone on Christmas eve,
Drinking eggnog and soaking a Virginia ham in the sink
No caroling singing, in the background
Only my chosen pick on You tube,
My girl Toni Braxton, singing another sad love song,
My heart saddens, as I relived those memories,
Cold up North, a chill felt apartment
I long to be home, as little Annie again,
I got up and head to the kitchen sink
To seasoning my duck meat.
Before I get drunk and fall flat on my face.
I will always be a Caribbean girl.
Carribean Eden
Frolicking in the shallows
Marveling at the sights
Haiku in the Tropics Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Julia Ward
Date written and posted: 09/23/2018
(fact)
The freaks had picked the wrong family to mess with.
Emotional disturbance was caused in my son life.
Everything my son feel I go through it too for we are family.
As you can see being from the carribean nobody mess with our children and assume they will live a happy life.
I am a mother who will pray on you souls even on your children life.
My son is my precious and one of a kind.
No body can't level up to him not even a relationship, nor
A freak that desperate for some.
I am a person of my word when I say family is more important than everyone I stare at. I will even break your heart for my son is more worthy than you.
Now that I see not only the freaks been violating my son life and mine and they to wonder why my son act up from being provoke from you like a dumbass freak.
As his mother who loves him dearly. I am gonna ruined your reputation for all you have done including with air earth fire water if you know what that means.
This poem is based on my country of Port-au-Prince Haiti.
(none fiction contest poem)
A sad Carribean that went through so much.
Got destroyed by hurricane.
So many lives died and suffer.
I wonder what's next, would it be a earthquake.
Everything I left behind is gone, I guess.
Just like my dear Godfather that I wish I knew.
A sad Carribean that went through so much.
Got destroyed by hurricane.
Will never be at peace for it's hard to rebuild
What was once a genuine that was once unique.
The family vacation,
two kids, the dog, my wife and me,
the station wagon's all packed up
but Timmy has to pee!
At last we're off, two hundred miles,
we stop at Mickey D's
"Whaddya want?," four cokes and fries,
they're all so hard to please!
Now, travelling can be a drag,
there's Mollie's travel sickness,
and Timmy with his acting out,
the wagon's such a mess!
Candy wrappers, markers, gum
still sticking to the seats,
I'm putting my foot firmly down,
"OK, kids, NO MORE TREATS!"
Another hundred miles, we stretch
and exercise old Marmaduke,
with running, jumping, food and drink
my Timmy has to puke!
Mollie cries, my wife consoles her,
gets her settled down to rest,
Timmy's resting too, God bless 'em!
children sleeping, we are blessed.
The final leg, we're all excited!
DISNEY WORLD! a world apart,
Pirates of the Carribean,
Haunted Mansion, where to start?
Here EVERYONE'S a kid, a dreamer,
fun that lasts the whole year through
'til next year when we hit the hiway,
maybe we'll be seeing YOU!
There I stood, flushed: gripping
a diaphanous pelvis of his guitar,
he rips a pulpy drool of velvet notes…
glossy under a roulette of lights,
saucy on the parquet floor upon
an artist's feet :his body movement
resembling a twisted weave; the
bossa nova of high timbre frothing scales
of primitive jungle moans,
while Latin hands roll with dizzy
Carribean beats as if Santana
and Jobim grooved with him.
Oh he aches, shakes like a livid soul,
more ravished than refined
in his groping music, my night's balm.
Streams of ‘Oye Como Va’ entice a trance
rippling down my spine, ready
to tug with the accompaniment of
drums and sax; till the last rhapsodic groan
prolongs a dazed jiggle for hips
to leap unto the heat of the sky.
My flesh perspires as I whirl,
unmindful of the exotic rhythm
prancing like a black magic woman!
-------
10/17/2015
Trashed Poem #3 Contest
Sponsor: Broken Wings
By nette onclaud
He tells me I have
Pretty eyes,
That he likes the color;
They are blue-green...
I wonder if he likes them
Because they are so
Unusual to him-
His are the eyes of
Un guate- coffee-black;
Is it a novelty
To look into the face
Of a blue-eyed gringa?
But maybe the color
Reminds him of home-
Could the blue-green
Make him think of
The Carribean sea?
Does the way they
Catch the light
Remind him of sunshine
Dancing on the crests
Of waves as they break?
But his body is the dusky
Hue of a Caribbean sunset,
So if my eyes shine like
The sea as it meets the sun
Every time I look at him,
It is only because my soul
Is saturated with the warmth
Of his colors...
The
sun
was
shining,
when
the
raptors
flew
across
the
sky.
As
blue
as
water
in
the
carribean.
They
flap
and
squawk.
As
they
were
chasing
a
white
pigeon
to
a
mahogany
tree.
They
were
hungry
Like
a
wolf.
And
eager
to
grab
it.
In
certain
might.
Helplessly
it
stood
on
a
branch.
Before
the
tugging
and
tearing,
the
pigeon
got
a
chance
and
escaped.
The family vacation,
two kids, the dog, my wife and me,
the station wagon's all packed up
but Timmy has to pee!
At last we're off, two hundred miles,
we stop at Mickey D's
for cheeseburgers, four cokes and fries,
the kids are hard to please!
Now, travelling can be a drag,
there's Mollie's travel sickness,
and Timmy with his acting out,
the wagon's such a mess!
Candy wrappers, markers, gum
still sticking to the seats,
I'm putting my foot firmly down,
"Right kids, NO MORE TREATS!"
Another hundred miles, we stretch
and exercise old Marmaduke,
with running, jumping, food and drink
my Timmy has to puke!
Mollie cries, my wife consoles her,
gets her settled down to rest,
Timmy's resting too, God bless 'em!
children sleeping, we are blessed.
The final leg, we're all excited!
DISNEY WORLD! a world apart,
Pirates of the Carribean,
Haunted Mansion, where to start?
Here EVERYONE'S a kid, a dreamer,
dreams that last the whole year through
'til next year when we hit the highway
maybe we'll be seeing YOU!
A barbequed jerk chicken
Saltfish and okra
Snapper & avocado
Fruit & rum cake with
Coconut ice-cream
Steel drium high
Fry!