Upon fields of glory,
And fields of blood,
Stands a Soldier,
His heart a steady drum.
With dreams of protecting,
And a struggle for freedom,
He comes back home,
Making his mother country proud.
His hands and body,
Full of scars,
Now holds up the pride,
That swells up like waves upon the shore.
Seventy eight years,
Since the chains were broken,
Yet in his eyes,
You can see the struggle.
In freedom name,
He stands, a timeless knight,
A warrior still,
Beneath the morning light.
Today let us remember how,
The stories of how,
For every tear and loss,
A life was led.
I was with a Brit friend the other day
Drinking beer and telling stories you might say
I was draining stubbies down as an Aussie will
Making this mate laugh thinking I was a real dill
Ya see in the mother country you drink out of a pint glass
And swigging the bottle was uncouth and made you a bit of an ass
But when an Aussie wants a drink and it doesn’t matter what
Looking for a glass to drink out of is silly when you’re hot
And another mate said to me one time
He only drunk when it was warm that was so fine
This was a cold day in the middle of July
He said there hadn’t been a cold day for 30 years gone by.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Villanelle: What do you do if the Culprit’s the Country
What do you do if the Culprit’s the Country
Will the Head of State turn against the Police
Go hang yourself on the nearest pipal* tree
Which country faults on its own territory
When It cracks down citizens or migrant mice
What do you do if the Culprit’s the Country
Take the oath if it bolsters the Enemy
No pious paean will wash sins away, please
Go hang yourself on the nearest pipal tree
Your life’s not yours to take if not for Patrie*
Ribbons and medals on chest consecrate vice*
What do you do if the Culprit’s the Country
O! for the belles bells tolling the reverie
Look! My Country’s crown towers above cloud’s fleece
Go hang yourself on the nearest pipal tree
No country’s worth the life of one family
If the force that protects corrupts the Police
What do you do if the Culprit’s the Country
Go hang yourself on the nearest pipal tree
• pipal: since the pipal tree has no prop roots, at least,
in death you can serve to prop it up
• Patrie: French for Mother Country
• vice: French pronunciation, please!
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
Ignore earthly desires for nation's sake
Freedom of countrymen keeps him awake
Despite mother's care he cares mother country
Orphans they're when leaving military
Rain, snow, thorn are his bed
Parents gave birth for bloodshed
People share employment by religion and caste
Nation neglect them as waste
Election fetches members life long pension
But dedicated soldier earns life tension
Tombs are made for back-up barrens
Scattered corpse of soldiers in battle unknown
Are they not sons of their nation?
For poets it may be an imagination
If military is compulsory for every man
There may be feeling of fellowmen
If so called Gods reside in country’s border
Devotees would guard nation without fear.
Jamaicans should know their country’s history
Imperialism, European Colonialism, Indentureship as well as African slavery
Centuries ago when our ancestors were trapped in misery
The days when our country was once ruled by the Spaniards
Natives of Spain
Dela Vega city, Sevilla la Nueva are few cities remembered in our brain
They tortured the peaceful Amerindians with hard labour and pain
We should always remember the days when our country was governed by the British colony
A country that trapped our ancestors in agony
Once ruled by the mother country England
White slave masters force their traditions, values and culture on our land
We fought for justice
We fought for freedom
We fought for the end of slavery
All of these were done through our national hero’s courage and bravery.
Demeter Edwards