The ideas, they are swirling in my head, Its time, to cut, chop, dissect and use them to earn some bread. One, two, ten and twenty By this time tomorrow I wont remember any. From God its a blessing, For man it may be a curse; But Lord, help me before me little head burst.- … Continue reading Jamaican Poetry: Ideas
You do not know the extent to which you wound people When you open your mouth, When you form your words, When you launch them out. They know, Because they feel it inside. The gaping wounds are invisible To your eyes, But to them, it's a lifelong memory of the assassination attempt, By you, On … Continue reading Jamaican Poets: Wounding Words
It is better to bleed the heart through the pen, than to die of internal bleeding.- Poetess Denise Fyffe ***** About the writer: Poetess Denise N. Fyffe is a published author of over 30 books, for more than eight years and enjoys volunteering as a Counselor. She is a freelance writer for online publications such as Revealing the Christian … Continue reading Jamaican Poetry: Bleed Through the Pen
The free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wings in the orange sun rays and dares to claim the sky. But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage can seldom see through his bars of rage his wings are clipped and his … Continue reading I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
My Jamaican heritage Is more than just where I was born It is more than the color of my skin It is more than the language I speak; My Jamaican heritage is the combination of everything; My Jamaican heritage is the struggles I face My Jamaican heritage is the enjoyment of a Jamaican sunrise and … Continue reading Jamaican Poetry: My Jamaican Heritage
How is it that our country, Jamaica stands On the left, but not on the right hand? How is it that our country moves, Through treacherous reefs, sailing through and through? How is it that our country breathes, These toxic fumes of crime and urban jealousy? How is it that our country survives, As more … Continue reading Jamaican Poetry: Jamaica, Our Country
Me as a woman so strong and divine, Will tek care of my picknie, with love and time Me as a woman bold and free, I am ashamed, I don’t want my picknie doing manual work, Like me. Tough love I know, tough love I give; My past embarrassments I try to outlive. Toiling daily, … Continue reading Jamaican Poetry: Jamaican Parent and Child
Si, me jus leggo one sneeze, Mi feel it all di way to me knees Not a body or a gentle bone, Mi wrap up, inna mi bed all alone; Wata jus a beat down mi windah, Like it a beg, “Mistress, mistress let we in yah.” Not ova me dead body, Hol on, mi … Continue reading Jamaican Poetry: Sneeze
What an experience this is for us Travelling thru Needham without no bus It’s a little too adventurous For two black girls without no bus. What an experience this is for us Travelling thru Massachusetts with no blinkin’ bus It’s definitely too much fuss For two black girls without no bus. We ain’t got no … Continue reading Jamaican Poetry: Two Black Girls Without No Bus
We are the wretched of the earth, The scourge of Babylon, The lepers of Israel, The untouchables of India; We are despised and our Brothers and sisters have been fed lies. We are the bile of the universe, The perpetually handicapped; Teased, molested, taunted, and arrested. We are the filthy, carbon-monoxide waste, That slither through … Continue reading Jamaican Poetry: The Wretched of the Earth
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