When I was a windy boy and a bit
And the black spit of the chapel fold,
(Sighed the old ram rod, dying of women),
I tiptoed shy in the gooseberry wood,
The rude owl cried like a tell-tale tit,
I skipped in a blush as the big girls rolled
Nine-pin down on donkey's common,
And on seesaw sunday nights I wooed
Whoever I would with my wicked eyes,
The whole of the moon I could love and leave
......
Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels'
hierarchies? and even if one of them suddenly
pressed me against his heart, I would perish
in the embrace of his stronger existence.
For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror
which we are barely able to endure and are awed
because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.
Each single angel is terrifying.
And so I force myself, swallow and hold back
the surging call of my dark sobbing.
......
Dis poetry is like a riddim dat drops
De tongue fires a riddim dat shoots like shots
Dis poetry is designed fe rantin
Dance hall style, big mouth chanting,
Dis poetry nar put yu to sleep
Preaching follow me
Like yu is blind sheep,
Dis poetry is not Party Political
Not designed fe dose who are critical.
Dis poetry is wid me when I gu to me bed
......
You're in this dream of cotton plants.
You raise a hoe, swing, and the first weeds
Fall with a sigh. You take another step,
Chop, and the sigh comes again,
Until you yourself are breathing that way
With each step, a sigh that will follow you into town.
That's hours later. The sun is a red blister
Coming up in your palm. Your back is strong,
Young, not yet the broken chair
......
The pale, the cold, and the moony smile
Which the meteor beam of a starless night
Sheds on a lonely and sea-girt isle,
Ere the dawning of morn's undoubted light,
Is the flame of life so fickle and wan
That flits round our steps till their strength is gone.
O man! hold thee on in courage of soul
Through the stormy shades of thy wordly way,
And the billows of clouds that around thee roll
......
It was a night of crescent moon, and the birds sang in tune,
And perfume upon cool evening air, said flowers were abloom,
Under the blackberry skies, with its velvet shades of maroon,
Wild rapture had returned, for it was now the month of June!
A creamy crescent moon is lovely, seeming painted upon sky,
Like the ages and ages of pretty nights, that it watched go by.
In the scarlet bushes and the blooms, goes the winking firefly,
And an enormous, uncanny darkness, a luster moon clarifies!
Abstract mystery lady, on the burgundy museum wall,
Eyes in deep shadows, in her green dress at the ball,
Sitting lost in thought, of what no one will ever know,
As the moonlight mingles with her hair at the window.
Abstract stylish lady, her face a vague blend of colors,
No longer with the crowd, now apart from the others,
In a room of wild, color swirls and vague bright lights,
Both lady and night inscrutable, backlit by moonlight.
The velvet cloak is cascading, all adorned with sequin stars,
Final streaks of sky colors fading, as pearl moon gazes afar.
The queen's lately departed, from the plush burgundy room,
Blue Neptune on her left, and and scarlet Mars on her right,
Trailing stardust in her wake, on the way to beautiful night.
Forays into mystery are waiting, at the dark end of the sun,
And tomorrow's queue of colors, await the orders of golden!
Blueberry darkness lies in its soft, eternal folds everywhere,
And beauty travels always, diamonds and jewels in her hair!
Varicolored flowers await fiery sun, of burnished days of old,
......
Pinks and reds are so rosy, all over a sunny garden scene,
And in the eastern corner, are beaming plums and greens!
Red and pink are the butterflies, wafting in summer's view,
As cream clouds march on skies, until they turn navy blue.
Red is the chanting songbird, treasure of tangy pine trees,
Pink are the big dragonflies, ere day is driven to its knees,
Red is the rich ruby, that glitters at coming onyx darkness,
And the sangria, starlit night, of utter peace and calmness!
redolent roses
just steps away from moonlight
in shadows of night
invisible bliss
colors unseen on the green
as flashing stars roam
romantic spiced scents
the shouts have become whispers
......