Hanging 'round down Trenchtown
Bob and me we had a yearning
he only had to signify 'Rastafari'
soon Bob and me we were a'burning
jamming the live-long day
reggae music was a'fire
wasting the night away
as the moon looked on
playing on the waves
Bob and me we were free
he and me we were a'flying
while the world was turning
no woman no time for crying
no disturb Bob and me
it's only the midnight 'erb we're burning
New release
New song available to listen at Bandcamp
Reggae lovers it's called:
Where there is love, that's where I'll be
Please give it a listen and let me know what you think
Here's the link:
johnderekhamilton.bandcamp.com
Thanks for your support
These days, most relationships
Are made of spider threads
The chains are fragile and cheap
Nobody can blame the dreads
Who seem to always tell the truth
For they could not care about roofs
Over their hair, that does not mean
That they're crazy, illiterate or lazy
Listen to the beats of the rastamen
Their dreaded hair is as strong as iron
Listen to the reggae beats, to the veracity
Of their words. Weak relationships
Are hurting too many people on the ships
Men and women ought to be more careful
This world is sick. This world is crazy and full
Of impostors, liars, criminals and backstabbers
Guess who are laughing now? The mighty spiders.
Copyright © November 2018, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Just climb onto the back of my Harley
And we shall ride to the songs of Bob Marley,
In no time at all
We'll be in Senegal,
Though I might stop for lunch in Kigali.
On his table of Formica,
A once ardent Christian Micah
Drops reggae from Jamaica;
Newly, Peter Tosh’s great liker
No more Soulless Demons’ Striker:
Paul in Thessalonica…
For ten years in America,
Eyes on the female Hitch hiker,
Mid-course rides turning her liker!
Have you been to Madagascar?
I’d had to and lasted The Scar…”
The First, we’ve heard, shall be The Last:
In his own case, a truth, too fast…
Micah for Marley’s Jamaica.
Every day, when a new sun rises,
you have the chance to begin again,
doesn't matter how heavy your burden...
if you're alive you can still make a plan.
Are you going to be a savior?
Or are you only going to be waiting for one?
The revelation of your real behavior
will be seen by the next setting sun.
Are you here? In this moment?
Can you hear what I'm trying to say?
Do you think the whole world needs changing?
If you think so... you've only got this moment...
right now... right here...today.
Are you going to be a savior?
Or are you only going to be waiting for one?
The revelation of your real behavior
will be seen by the next setting sun.
Are you going to be a savior?
Or are you only going to be waiting for one?
The revelation of your real behavior
will be seen by the next setting sun.
I see 3 little birds
landing softly
on the bird feeder
and it’s hard
not to hear
a gentle reggae lilt
in the background.
Mowgli wanted all of the animals to get together and be friends.
He enlisted the help of Bagheera, who said they would have to make amends.
Baloo was ready, for he has the easy, generous heart of a happy bear.
Now how to get all of the animals to agree and get there?
Let’s play some Bob Marley, Bagheera suggested. A terrific idea!
With that kind of music, they could even get the pygmy hog Leah.
Kaa was one of the first to arrive, and began to dance off his pants.
Watch it! a tweedle bug said. You are stepping on African plants!
There was some discussion now about whether Shere Khan could come.
Come on! Mowgli urged! That sour sarcastic striped guy needs some fun!
So they sent out the invite, and out of the forest he came with a roar.
Pretty soon he was dancing his stripes off, without any tasting or gore.
Bob Marley’s reggae chilled the entire jungle out that day and the next.
We all discussed it, tasting Haki juice which made some of us vext.
Was Shere Khan really here? I asked a pygmy hog nearby.
Who cares? He grunted, running off with the last pumpkin pie.
reverberating night,
raucous in smoke filled room,
repetitive drum beat,
resonant voice arose,
recapturing lost soul,
rock to wisdom of song,
remember Bob, no cry!!
1st placement
Pleiades 2 poetry contest
Joseph May
written 15/10/2020
7 lines each with 6 syllables.
Rooted in Jamaica
Rhythmic off-beat playing
Rastafari message
Rope-like ringlets swaying
Rivers of the exile
Reminiscing sadness
Rock along to Marley's
Reggae rousing gladness
13.10.20
Pleiades 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsor - Joseph May
* altered slightly after the contest
REGGAE
Reggae music genre,
rhythmic cell of eight beats,
repeated short patterns.
Represents a movement,
religious in nature.
Roots of moral lessons,
rich spiritually.
10/12/20 Pleiades 2 Poetry Contest Joseph May
Walk and talk affection
In conducive tones
That fertilise attention
To concerns affecting real folks and their comfort zones
Where each critical move you make
Adds to their happiness in tough times
As for them you bake a friendship cake
To improve climes
In which they operate
Daily
As support and back up you generate
Weekly and monthly
When they feel low
As life circumstances conspire
To deal them a huge blow
That deflates their confidence tyre to retire
Their self confidence
Which sometimes oscillates
In a distorted cadence at a glance
That vacillates
Between positive and negative
Vibes
Sometimes exclusive and punitive
When scribes
Predict their imminent downfall
As life’s clock chimes
To call
For the removal of mimes
Folks can’t lip read
Without expertise
In decoding the love creed
Whose consultation fees
Folks can’t afford
Cos no price is high enough
To convert the discord encountered into a promising accord
Between the meek and the tough
Until a Reggae ambassador intervenes
To iron out pesky issues
By using Reggae means
So no affected party in a court of law the other sues.
It's been a long day,
work two jobs all hours,
it is what we do in America,
in twenty first century America.
Wearisome hours,
I stomp my feet,
to a reggae beat,
to stay awake,
in twenty first century America.
The road is long,
the day is long gone,
my eyes are tired
of twenty first century America
The engine hums,
and the signs flash by,
a lonely truck passes me,
in twenty first century America.
I hit my head,
and pound the dash,
I must get home,
in twenty first century America.
My dreams will be,
to a reggae beat and
tomorrow I'll start
all over again
in twenty first century America.
Lively interludes of myself,
this I ask of you--
synthesize the main pieces of my own music
those beats of rhythm,
the low and high notes
that resound in my heart
and hum the symphony of my
spirit--
fly, my reggae tunes and primal melodies
release the Marley tempo
invite me once again and again
to welcome the environ;
to harvest life's juicy choral pulp!
Favorite Music Type Contest
For Nayda Ivette Negron
9 Oct 2015
Yo
Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo… O…. Himbe
Erotic bark of exotic tree
Yo
Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo… O…. Himbe
Help a man be all he can be
I come home tired, but my woman want me.
She give me little rum and some Yohimbe (basso line)
She say it make a difference she can feel and see
She give me little rum and some Yohimbe (basso line)
She say I make her body feel hap…hap…eee
She give me little rum and some Yohimbe (basso line)
Yo
Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo… O…. Himbe
Erotic bark of exotic tree
Yo
Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo… O…. Himbe
Help a man be all he can be
So if you want to get a lot, just like me
Try a little rum and some Yohimbe (basso line)
Try it just and you will see
Try a little rum and some Yohimbe (basso line)
It work for you like it work for me
Try a little rum and some Yohimbe (basso line)
Yo
Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo… O…. Himbe
Erotic bark of exotic tree
Yo
Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo Yo… O…. Himbe
Help a man be all he can be (down tempo)
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