At school he
carried the
Sign of the
cross on his
chest, printed,
on badge mark
ISCF;
Beating, shaking
Jesus on a tambo-
Urine from one
Class, one block
one grade to
the next,
Playing hide
and see for
naked shirts
pockets to
Bear the badge
of high school
saints,
Speaking in the
tongues of Angels
(that’s what he told us)
reading out lives
Telling boys to
Tear out the
pages of
Immorality.
At nights the
Badge sits in
His bag as
He taste the
tongue of a man
Waiting on
daylight to
be put on again.
Goody, thru a long time me nuh go one dance
mi tek up mi self nd go High Life last night.
Mi love!
Mi think seh a IGL put on d dance
Baaaaay gas pan!
I never know seh a d new style
till mi hear gas gas gas gas
a vibrate thru d dance,
d man dem tart park crowd
a swing dem hip wid dem gas pan.
Dem seh a dance dem did a dance
But it look like some heavy exercise.
Mi couldn’t believe seh dancehall gone to IGL.
Da deh song deh cah move mi d way “Hot wok”
use to path me legs deep and wide like d butterly
as mi pat mi sinting cos it mi know it good.
weh me woulda swing gas pan a go?
Writing, especially poetry have since recently became a huge part of my life. I do not want to be cliche and say I live and breath poetry, but what I will say is that my mind is creative space, and whether I am walking, laying down, in a class, or sleeping poetic rhythms and devices seems to always been floating around in my head. When I transform these thoughts into words I give them life, creating poems that embodies my experiences and culture. Therefore, this blog is my way of sharing my work with the world,mainly as a means of trying to not only get my self establish, but to further enhance my poetic skills.
poetry316 