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
I come from a musical place
Where they shoot me for my song
And my brother has been tortured
By my brother in my land.
I come from a beautiful place
Where they hate my shade of skin
They don't like the way I pray
And they ban free poetry.
While I make rhymes my brother John
Makes shiny shoes which dames try on,
And finding to their fit and stance
They buy and wear with elegance;
But mine is quite another tale,--
For song there is no sale.
My brother Tom a tailor shop
Is owner of, and ladies stop
To try the models he has planned,
They say, poetry makes you imaginary
Far lost in words... disconnected
When they themselves began their lives
Singing rhymes, poems... twinkle twinkle li'l star
Sleeping to their gran's lullabies
Frolickin' in the farms...to the poetry of tall grasses
Dreaming of nature's poems...its soul rests within you
Growin' up with your beloved alongside
Writing letters to your love... replete with poetry so melancholy...
When thy love jilts you...you weave a song
Immortal Robert Burns of Ayr,
There's but few poets can with you compare;
Some of your poems and songs are very fine:
To "Mary in Heaven" is most sublime;
And then again in your "Cottar's Saturday Night,"
Your genius there does shine most bright,
As pure as the dewdrops of the night.
Your "Tam O'Shanter" is very fine,
Both funny, racy, and divine,
I thought that my voyage had come to its end
at the last limit of my power,
that the path before me was closed,
that possibilities were exhausted
and the time come to take shelter in a silent obscurity,
But I find that thy will knows no end in me.
And when old words die out on the tongue,
new melodies break forth from the heart;
and where the old tracks are lost,
new country is revealed with its wonders.
the last time they
was when he told them about
that weird dream
in which wine
poured from the tap in
When you look at me
What do you see?
When you come close to me
Who do you think I am?
Do you really see me?
Do you think am the ice princess?
With no heart or emotion
If I were a color
Which color would I be?
i know that i shall meet my shadow, one day, is our fate.
I know that, someday, the light ends for us and the deadly gravity will absorb us.
But then, without space and time, without life
and death, the infinite pieces will be reunited,
a deeper union through the tranquility of silence will be born.
And again, a magician spark will shine
and a ocean of souls will flood the universe
and will give birth to stars and grief.
And maybe, just maybe, in another heaven, my dreams will be your dreams.
You see, everything repeats itself and everything will be reincarnated in different forms.
Waves of circumflexes,
storms of adverbs,
windmills of verbs,
shells of signs of ellipsis,
on the island of poems