Sun | Jun 13, 2021


Published:Sunday | May 2, 2021 | 12:15 AM

Pandemic demon

“Leave us Covid!”

I must rebuke,

Be gone now!

Merciless pestilence,

Obey you must;

And desist cunningly

Stay with your wiles

Away to snatch the

Next unsuspecting soul.

Covid, retreat!

Relieve us of your

Intimidating presence, I pray,

Millions of lives away

You have pilfered.

Deadly device of the

Diabolic one,

In diurnal and nocturnal times

You persistently stalk

The international land;

In quest of our anatomic

Structures to invade.

And like “termites of flesh”

Our sickened bodies away

You swiftly devour.

Zoonotic virus of

Pulmonary cell,

From animals you have leapt

Our respiratory systems

To rape.

Pathogenic, locksmithing demon,

With your lethal craft

Keys to the locks

Of our immunologic doors

You carved;

Just to gain illegal access

To our cells.

Destructive squatter of the cell,

Wreaking havoc while you dwell

To make grotesque-looking

Copies of yourself.




Physically distressing, parasitic vampire,

Oh! What ginnal thou hath been.

Camouflaging yourself in varying forms,

Among particles of air we breathe;

Spiteful bum!

You slip unnoticed into cavities

Mouth, nostrils, throat and lungs

And with pervasive powers,

Inflicting fatal damage

As you please.

Shutting down lungs with

Viscous, mucosal sludge,

With coagulated blood you

Occlude capillaries, veins

And arteries too.

Totally depriving the cerebral

Computer of oxygen and glucose,

Those vital, dual necessities;

The absence of which

Renders the encephalon incapable

Of its meticulous supervision

Of corporal duties.

Then akimbo you

Flamboyantly stand,

Beaming with pride

For the nightmarish hell

Unleashed you just.

And while you tarry,

On your revolting face

You brazenly display

A broad, but jeering

Contented grin;

Eagerly waiting for the



Now bask in your glory

And clap your hands;

Deviously, afflicting, feckless one.

- Melchor Baugh


Single Madda

Get up, wake up, make up you bed, wash you face, brush you teeth and come comb you head

This is part of my single madda duty, and need I remind you mi affi do dis daily

A single madda’s job is not an easy case

I can vouch and tell you that this thing is no rat race

You affi make sure say everything is set in place

Like dem food, dem clothes, dem health or whatever Di case

Even though a you alone you better learn Fi keep up Di pace

Being a single madda you affi full a strength yes mah you affi TRANG

You affi can multitask like you related to super man

Cause at this point a two roll you a play, you are already the woman and you still affi a play Di man

So mi affi learn how Fi control mi gender role

When dem rude and do suptm wrong a dem time deh mi bring out Di man

And Fi the rest a time, like Fi show love and dem thing deh mi remain a woman.

But as mi say being a single madda nuh easy.

Cause every dollar mi wuk go back ina household bills and spend pan pickney

And tru all a dis you nuh see nuh daddy

Cause dem a roam Di place still a get more and more pickney.

And to think dem woulda care bout you and how you a struggle, wooiee you fava monkey!

All dem care bout affi replicate more and more of dem identity

But dem have a saying mommy baby but daddy maybe

So mi affi just take on the job and attack it bravely

Cause at Di end of Di day when everything simmer dung mi ago enjoy Di gravy

So make mi continue Fi love and care Fimi babies

And pray God’s richest blessings on them as they transform into gentlemen and ladies.

A single mother’s story

Alicia Beckford


The value of my dignity

“A lie yah tell, nuhn nuh guh suh”

“Attention yah look bout yuh own uncle rape yuh”

That’s all I hear whenever I try to reach out and seek help

Fifteen and traumatized, unstable mental health

I’m suffering with pain, guilt and dangerous thoughts

He is a well-known man in society, high on the hierarchy

A polished reputation and high expectancy

“The Minister, that’s absurd” she laughs,

And continues “I know he’s your uncle but such accusations have a big penalty.”

So on top of being called a liar I would have to face a penalty for speaking my truth

I laugh at the irony seeing as the people, the adults that are said to protect us really a mash up the youth

As a guidance counsellor you should be ashamed of yourself, you’re probably a mother

Would you laugh in your daughter’s face if she had told you that a pastor was her molester?

Would you call her a liar if she had told you it was her very own father?

I assume you wouldn’t because she is your daughter or you probably would because of who is said to be the perpetrator.

You really don’t understand how it feels to be disgusted with yourself, feeling uncomfortable in your own skin

I tried to seek justice but it falls on deaf ears, but what justice can be served for the scars embedded deep within?

You may see them in their uniforms, waist strapped with a gun

They are to serve and protect, are they not? But just how many protecting have they done?

I tried reaching out to my sister but with a hiss of her teeth and her eyes rolled

She told me and was a liar and that I was too bold,

Too bold to be spreading rumours on a man that was known

Even with the tears falling from my eyes, no sympathy was shown

In all honesty mi tiad, mi stressed, mi feel empty in a mi chest

Mi fed up, mi just cyah badda fi continue get abuse by mi mada half-bredda

What’s the point of living if yuh already feel dead? All lef fi do is fi put a bullet through mi head

Now a year older I can say I am able to cope, found somebody that believed my words in an unexpected place

She was a higgler, she saw me in a shell with my old routine;

I wasn’t doing well in school and I barely ate

She called me aside then gave me a hug and I lost all composure, that hug made me break

I told her my story and she listened keenly with a saddened look mixed with anger

She said, “Weh society a come to mi really a wonda, alright mi dear child hear wha, I a go call CDA mek dem get a social worka fi u.”

She heaved a sigh and shook her head, “If everything go right I will mek yuh live wid me to.”

I was swollen with gratitude, finally I would receive the justice I deserve

But today I am triggered by a news I heard

About a woman they raped as if her body wasn’t hers

As if that wasn’t scary enough because they took her life to

Now the tears are falling because I am victim too

Unlike her I am alive and I am GLADDDD

But hearing about this is causing a turmoil inside and not only sad; I’m hurt, I feel broken and I am pissed

Because how does one rape a woman, hearing her agony makes him feel pleased?

To taint her dignity and strip her of her sane mentality causing anxiety

Leading to depression and trauma making her panicky

Possibly making her a victim of suicide doesn’t do anything to you?

You walk free of conscience, free of the shame

And the guilt that should be fresh in your mind for committing such atrocious crime

There was a witness and let me just say, you’re just as bad

You’re worse than the man, the dutty man that invades a woman’s sacred temple

Went beyond her comfort zone to satisfy his needs and he probably has a wife at home

That woman is my sister, the sister that shunned me; the one that said I was too bold

Now she finally understands how I felt, but unlike me she would never tell a soul

She will never get the chance to speak out, won’t get to tell her story nor speak his name

The story of how her dignity was stained and after that she will never be the same

But she’s dead as he took her life she will never get to experience the trauma I did

I forgive her for not believing me, when I was just a kid

- Moesha Rowe



Again life knocks you down

Trampled your aspirations on the ground.

Second time around rejection stabs you in the eye

Blinding your dreams, your goals and your desire

To be an exceptional, special human being.

Cruel fate again walks in your path

Blocking you from reaching that greener grass

Where you have planned and dreamed to be.

Your pain is heart wrenching

Your tears melt my troubled soul

My hands are tied with invisible strings

I know no one to untie them

Don’t give up my baby

Just mop up those tears

God knows why.

The path you seek may be troubled waters

So turn right around

Look to the other side

There is still hope even in troubled times.

Hold on baby

Hold on tight

Don’t you dare let go

One day you will know why

Rejection stabbed you twice.

- Carol Thomas-Johnson


Poor parenting

You see me pickney them a walk alone,

And you start make up all kinda story bout me.

You call me ‘cayliss mumma’,

Without even giving me a chance to tell my story.

Yes! Is them alone walk,

But Lord knows me do me best.

Me wake up from the morning soon,

Prepare them breakfast and get them dressed.

By time them supposed to leave out,

Me reach a work already.

Me wash, me cook, me clean, me press,

Jus’ fih make a little money

As God above, it very hard,

Fih leave your kids dem alone a yard.

But dutty tough and things no bright,

Me cya always have them ina me sight.

A me alone them have,

Them father nuh deh bout.

Me affi make sure say food ina them mouth.

Me one fih find food, water, light and rent.

So nuh judge me miss, I am just a poor parent.

- Orlando Heslop