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by Garfield N. Morgan

We crucified the truth, you and I.
We sucked poison from the fruit
And we both died.
And for a while, death tasted sweeter than life.
But such are the lies we use to get by.

The moon shines emptily from our eyes,
And lacks the emotion of the sun
As we cling to the night
For the day is still too young
Still too innocent to shed its light
Upon the altar of our mistakes.

And so morning breaks,
To find us clinging to the leaves
We

Continue reading Lies To Get By

by Kerri-Ann M. Smith

Shi used to seh

Children should be seen

And never heard;

And pickeney fi min’ dem business.

And wi used to shut wi mout

And listen.

Mama did love wi!

Shi taught us wisdom and patience

Shi used to seh

Come tan up inna di kitchen

And watch what mi doin

One day it aggo come een handy.

And wi used to push up wi mout

And watch and learn.

Mama did love wi!

Shi taught us how to be independent.

Shi used to seh

Wi fi listen to wi teacha,

And if wi get

Continue reading A Jamaican Child?s Mother’s Day Tribute

by: Kerri-Ann M. Smith

In recognition of the historical event that took place on February 25, 2006 when Mrs. Portia Simpson Miller was elected leader of the People’s National Party

Come one, come all!
Unnu neva hear di news,
Jamaica tun revolutionary
An ooman tap sing di blues!

Yes massa, yes missis
We mek history inna 2006,
We beat even di Americans
Fi put a ooman inna office

What a prehkeh!
What a serious hattaclapse!
Jamaicans live fi see di day
When di Backra rules collapse

What a day, what

Continue reading Woman Inna Power

by: Kerri-Ann M. Smith

Mi come ah dis ya country,
Weh life jus ruff an? hard.
Sometimes mi jus waan pack mi bag
An? goh back ah mi yaad.

Mi miss mi granny cornmeal pone,
And mi good Sunday dinner feast.
Mi tiyad fi nyam left ova food
Lawd, dis ya foreign is a beast!

Mi long fi eat a Easta bun
And piece ah di yellow cheese.
Mi long fi jus siddung outta door
And enjoy some nice cool breeze.

Mi cyaah tell when laas mi fly a kite!
Or walk inna di midday

Continue reading Nostalgia

by Mark Dixon

Black History month

A time to remember

A time to remember the struggle of black people

The struggle of my people

You gave us the shortest month of the year

Pretending that you care

Pretending that you regret enslaving my people

Pretending that you regret putting my people in shackles

You forced my people to work

Long hours in the cotton fields

Without a drop of water

To quench our dying thirst

Without a piece of bread

To relieve our hunger

We worked for you

Not by choice

But by the

Continue reading Black History Month