"Voices in the River"
Birdsongs awake, I
Thrill to chirped crescendo of
Winged blessings sky high
But voices intrude
The long line of river.
Bring d curry n d 3 ringburner by Ayoung
From Cunapo to Aripo,
It flows beyond
The bend end of time
Fus time you comin?
You jokin, right
Fire one for dat
Take d ting
Straight
For all the time you missing
From the rivers of Babylon
Rhythms to wash,
Wash clothes, wash burdens
Love secrets, all
All de unlovely scents of fear,
Colours of oppression
From the cold blue gaze,
From the terrors of old,
From the oppressive heat,
A watery chariot of peace.
Place of the ancestors,
Of beauty, of struggle, of love
Friendship amidst
Cow dung goat itch
Way all you reach now
Yard fowl and duck does be real hard
It go take some good
Good woodfire
Eshu sits on the bedrock
Right left of Mary Jesus mother God
Ram, Jah Shiva-Ram
Allah, Jehovah, witnesses
Of styrofoam garlands
And rum-incense ethers of drunken libations
Mix with duck-bone fish
Bone cork offerings
Is de sweetest lime in de World.
This part of the river curve
Like stomach full, real nice.
A God moment of creation,
Bamboo green palms over head
Shading de river side and de fire
Real nice, de water springs better
Than Blue Mountain
Here on de flat just right for de cookup
Watch there
It burrows deeper down
As it turn
Is there we does bathe
ole-talk, listen music
And when Santos
And kwame he cuatro
Dancing and singing for so
Fire in de place
But way Ayoung, he still missing?
Don’t forget fishing
Day or night
Wabine, Cascarub
Taeta swim further up
Parlor hops ready
Or just enjoy
The breeze and de quiet
Look bring allyou …here now and doh spoil de… lime
Women?
Since washin machine mash
Up that river wash gossip
Them fraaaid fresh water now
Dem like salt,
Half de time is jus we men
The Spirit dwellers stop
To watch the antics of this comic lot
Ahji and Beta present
Pillars of salt
Absent in absurd words
Clouded unseeing eyes
Pass Rannie overseeing
Sonny Boy, Sookdeo and
Manko’s entire family
Ahji don’t pass they.
The Maroon mother frowns
Too many wrong perceptions
Of river woman and sea.
Yeah borrow that knife
The dasheen ain’t reach yet.
Take one nah
Only by the river we does meet
How ahji going?
She good, she over dey in de flat.
What all you cooking by all yuh side?
Fish broth.
That good to coat the stomach.
Throw it, the water go carry it
Doh litter de place
With no biodegradable excuse for laziness
Why we didn’t cook a pelau?
What wrong with what we makin?
All you quarrelling over the food to cook and all?
Ah fed up ah this set ah blasted curry
Is curry emancipation, Chinee holiday and Christmas!
All way you turn green pink and glitters
Give de thing a rest nah
Pseudo racist!
But ah stifling!
When I go have some real space
My privileged race?
That’s a white myth
Doors hiding far
Far from this skin stain
Rain more than sun
All de time
The Maroon Nanny sees the tone of need
Rhythms agonized by hurts
Knife sharp slices in an open wound.
Is that ole talk?
Yeah it does go high and low
A good drink go change de flow
Here ain’t for fighting
What is a flag doing there?
Them Baptist and Hindu like
To pray here too, don’t
Meddle with it you never know
What they put it they for
I move.
The first-timer unveiled third eye
Catches the end transformation.
He walks in the spirit.
What’s in the tree above?
Some animal either a bird
Or squirrel
What spirit?
Way all you get he from?
Rum spirit dancing in your eye
It take over your whole head.
Along the long line of the river
Voices float giddily while
A humming bird flutters
Like laughter in still air.
Unprepared a Samsung
Double door no frost
Splash
In the water
An obscene sound
Uttered in innocent prayer
Upsetting the smooth clear surface
And the crayfish’s calm glide.
Habits form by slow degrees
Like fridges in the river
Blocking
Floral petitions to the Gods
Forcing them to wander down
Another path
And I wonder
When the three in the Trinity
Will turn to unity
Will become one
When the essence of the garlic
Flavours every pot pelau fishbroth or duck
Will make a new equation to reach on land
To carry curry duck dasheen and fish broth
In one answer.
I wonder when
Understanding will come
That the river lime
More than pot-last,
More than Warrior game-play
More than river seconds of unity
That river time can be
All time
Like streams into rivers into seas
Change the end
Before the beginning
Into a seamless mesh running through time and land
Way Ayoung, he not coming?
A burst of garlic fragrant
The air with its searing sound
Curry and dasheen reach
Down the long line of the river
The lime start.
FOR MY GRANDMA ("The Mission")
Birdsongs awake, I
Thrill to the chirped crescendo of
Winged blessings in the vast sky,
On the wind, grandma’s mantra echoes:
“Kill them with kindness no matter what”
An unforgettable reminder to my heart to
Forgive all;
An unforgettable memory of my unsung
Hero whose life was too short,
A legacy to honour devotions of ancestors
Long, long enrolled in the bluish high
A reminder that mind, heart and art
Must burn like thanksgiving incense
And incessant litanies, murmured in unknown tongues
To bridge beginning ends in a seamless
Mesh, out of dimension, out of time
Transposing the dreams of one generation
Onto another.
My voice must sound the glories and miseries
Of all seasons and for all seasons
In the wind change of time, like the enduring
Immortelles anchored deep, even in uncertain soil
A healing balm of life, heart and art,
Transcending barriers of race and hate filled relations
From the far reaches of my woman’s soul,
I must for her sculpt, touch and transform lives
(I have a mission to fulfil).
The blacksongbird3 (Lynore V Greaves)
My sons and my daughters, to you I plead
Watch don’t get no horrors, but please, tahe heed
I know you don’t want noo sermon
But my admonition
Is to guard you against all the evisl of life
Walk cautiously, children, be alert
Because you have an enemy , that’s roaming ;the earth
But you don’t have to be careless
You see sober thinking , leads on to righteousness
To Happiness, spiritual bliss
That’s why I tell you this
(Chorus)
Watch out my children
Watch out my children
It have a feller, call Lucifer
With a bag of white powder
And he don’t want to powder your face
But to bring shame, and disgrace
To he human race
Won’t you say it me
(Chorus repeated)
I give you my counsel
Because I want to see
All you young people
Live righteously
What you feed your mind with
Forms your characteristic
And shape the path that you must walk tomorrow
Darkness or glow, joy of sorrow
That’s why I am concerned ………so
Watch out my children
Quidado mis hijos, (To my Spanish children)
Quidado mis hijos, Hay un hombre que se llama
Lucifer, con una bolsa de palvo blanco
Y el no quiere empolvar tu cara
Pero,para, traer pena y disgacia
Para la raza humana
And to my French children:
Attention mes enfants, attention mes enfants
Il y a quelqu’un qui s’appelle Lucifer
Avec un sachet de poudre blanc
Il ne veux par le renverser sur ton visage
Mais apporter haunte et destresse a la race humaine
And to all my chutney children
Dey ko mera bacha logo
Dey ko mera bacha logo
Ake insane jaisa shaitan hai
Ooskapas hai tiler powder nahi
Lagata hai, manoshata kanam
Paryaha ake badnoma dabha hai
Watch out my children
Watch out.
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