POETRY
Donald Campbell
OUR MOTHER – Artist Grandson Gavin Campbell
OUR MOTHER
13th August 2016
Not just our mother of 5 brothers & Sisters
A Mother of numerous others including many visitors
From birth to earth our mother has given plenty
Displaying quality, friendship, love and generosity
Our Mother adored living
She spent hours, months, years in the kitchen
The ‘Pudding Lady’ who graced the table with finger-licking cooking
Many times, loaded with orders for baking
Mother what you cooking? ‘Salt Fish tail and John crow Liver’
From a natural talent of dressmaking
She often turned-out slips, frocks and crinolines
Our Mother the talented one
Filled with laughter, filled with fun
Days before departing, it was on a Monday, she stated “I am ready to go now”. When told that her younger daughter was due to arrive on the Friday she promptly replied “weh yu want mi if do, overtime”?
That in a nutshell was our our mother. This is the end of an era, a void, a space that will not be filled by any other- ‘OUR MOTHER’
By 3rd child and son Donald
THE PATH OF LIFE
Who knows?
You live a life
You may get spliced
Young and learning
The degree of yearning
Want to know more
You begin to explore
How does it go?
Why doesn’t show?
A map, the way to follow
Would I find the same excitement?
The way ahead, a light shining
We look back and say
My god, was that the way?
Ignorance can be such bliss
At times it ends with just a kiss
The beaten track we all tread
But not at all with the same head
D R Campbell
FIGHT FOR YOUR RIGHTS
The body armour of life
The resistance tool
Be prepared for strife
I’m no fool
Trouble in a bundle
Thick and fast
Will I stumble?
Am I going to last?
A direct hit
So it seems
Having a fit?
Not in your dreams
Stand up and be counted
Your gift to life
When you are confronted
Fight for your rights
D R Campbell
UNDERESTIMATION OF THE MIND
Young, Belittled
Old, Pitied
The Mind Is but a Tool
To Be Used as a Rule
You Are Too Young
You Don’t Understand
Go Away Little One
Come Back When You Can
You’re Old
So It Seems
A Little Grey
Should You Be a Prey?
Take a Tip
Do Not Trip
The Young
Do No Underestimate
The Old
They May Not Be Out of Date
D R Campbell
“THAT’S WHAT JAMAICA MEANS TO ME”
Jamaica
Land of my Birth
Laid the foundation
for my life on this earth
My Mother Land
That has no bounds
you can be anything you wish to be
A Lawyer, A Doctor, A Scientist, A Teacher, An Entrepreneur
You see!!
“THAT’S WHAT JAMAICA MEANS TO ME”
My Jamaica
Land of wood and Water
Blue Mountains Mist
Dunn’s River falls
And white Sand Beaches
Hummingbirds and Butterflies
Sunshine and a Flowers
Good food and Coffee Beans
“THAT’S WHAT JAMAICA MEANS TO ME”
Sweet Reggae Music
From Ska to Blue Beat
Rhythm to the Beat
Mmm. Mango, Coconut Water,
The Aroma of Jerk
Fried Fish and Bammy
The Ackee we eat
“That’s what Jamaica Means to Me”
Happy Children in school uniform
Sunday choirs perform
Churches congregation Reborn
Guinness punch, Chocolate Tea
And Marley Smiling at me
“THAT’S WHAT JAMAICA MEANS TO ME”
Garvey, Gordon,
Busta, Manley
Bogle, Sharpe
Nanny,
Cojoe,
Maroon Victory Abeng Call!!
“THAT’S WHAT JAMAICA MEANS TO ME”
Sweet Jamaica
How I miss Her
Jamaica Land of My Birth
Family and Friends
Out of Many One People
Jewel of The Caribbean
Heaven on Earth
“THAT’S WHAT JAMAICA MEANS TO ME”
“©” Dr Beverly I Lindsay OBE, OD, DL
STILL I RISE
by Maya Angelou
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
’Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
’Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
Labi Siffre
IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE
When folk declare they’re compassionate
Claim to believe
In openness and honesty
I distrust them, immediately
Am I compassionate? I don’t know
Open?
Honest?
I don’t trust myself either;
Neither do I know I’m sincere
Till twenty years on, under fire, I find
I’ve stuck to my guns
(Though history makes it clear
Being sincere
Doesn’t mean I’m right)
In a world where parents, with passion say
“If I found my son was gay I’d kill him”
And they do
And discovering their daughter
“Fallen”
In love with a man of another faith
They feel
Justified killing her, righteous
And we’re all, all of us, compassionate, decent,
Ordinary, hard working
Men and women
And we’re all, all of us, intelligent and do
The best we can, the best tin can
From ashes to ashes
From dust to dust
And I don’t trust any of us
TRUMP, STATUS & STATE OF A BLACK & WHITE NATION
Enemies are an important part of our history
Should we commemorate them
With statues?
Of Adolf Hitler, for example?
Would that be socially, culturally, educationally helpful
Or harmful?
Robert E. Lee
Hero of the Confederacy
Was a Black people’s enemy
Should Americans oppose
Only statues of the enemies of white folks?
An intriguing sequel to the (updated
For the sake of inclusivity) declaration
That all people
Are “created equal”
MOHAMMED ALI – FAREWELL
Farewell Muhammed Ali
You chose your name
And label
Despite white cowardice
You stung like a bee, and
Encouraged me
To be Me
Thank you
Muhammed Ali
Tony ‘Milverton Wallace’
NOTES FROM THE DEPARTED
Weep not child, hail a season of rejoicing for this mortal frame free of suffering;
Rejoice in my name, give thanks and praises for my liberation from earthly woes.
Grieve, rather, for the babies newborn and the pain to come on their earthly bourne;
Weep for the grief and affliction ahead as they travel the road to journey’s end.
Cara Thompson
Image Credit: Cara Thompson Facebook profile picture
SLAMOVISION 2021: Nottingham Cara Thompson
THE FRONT ROOM
THE FRONT ROOM
Claude Mckay
IF WE MUST DIE
IF WE MUST DIE
If we must die, let it not be like hogs
Hunted and penned in an inglorious spot,
While round us bark the mad and hungry dogs,
Making their mock at our accursèd lot.
If we must die, O let us nobly die,
So that our precious blood may not be shed
In vain; then even the monsters we defy
Shall be constrained to honor us though dead!
O kinsmen! we must meet the common foe!
Though far outnumbered let us show us brave,
And for their thousand blows deal one death-blow!
What though before us lies the open grave?
Like men we’ll face the murderous, cowardly pack,
Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!
– by Claude Mckay