Poems

Deadly intoxication

A man named Mr. Set was driving his truck down the street

His foot hit the gas like a boulder in water, rum, and beer in hand

His thirst could not be quenched, one quart and four beers in minutes

The white lady and the Browning captivated his mind and spirit

He was driving at the speed of sound, and his mind was not around

The truck came to the car like a rocket to the stars we heard thunder

The car flips, skips, and it rolls, scarlet shapes engrave the street

I saw many bloody and torn, the truck driver was fast asleep

With one throw of the dice, Mr. Set paid the ultimate price

Taking my friend Tina and my driver Tom along for the ride

The red car with a mother and her four sons hugged tight a light post

Four children fell fast asleep as they all drifted into a forever dream

Unable to move, the mother called Junior, Jack, Brondon, and James

She shouted, but they we already in deep sleep. The mother screamed!

A loud flock of black birds went by, then a deafening silence followed

Darkness came in the blink of an eye as the mother too went to sleep

Knowing that they did not deserve this fate made the scene so very hard to see

Driving while intoxicated is a crime that leaves many unalive, the future sleep

Did he kill a lawyer, a doctor, or a priest? We will never know. Rest in peace

A sad, dreadful tune echoed aloud as people cried out in the crowd

Rip one, two, five, and one to go, nine innocent lives gone so soon

When I heard, I cried for them to save the one, for I counted eight before

Enough life was cut short this day and we cannot lose not one more

With a darkened eye, I looked around to see who the ninth victim would be

I saw bloody hands and feet outside the car but no other victim to see

Looking at self, I realized that there were no hands and feet inside the car

After carefully scanning the ground, I recognized the red pieces to be me

I thought of my wife and son and my newborn baby smiling face

Who will provide for my family, and what will become of my mother Grace

It is not right, and it is not fair; one man’s intoxication laid nine souls to waste

The car accident had me in shock, so I did not even feel the steel inside me

Did not imagine or realise that the ninth victim is me! Silence.

– Patree Haynes

Dear Nephew

From National Heroine Louise Bennett

give “Aunty Roachy” a “topanarais” position

u know “Aunty” is an archetype above inquisition...

When I hold you

phone you or fold u

I do this in the

trajectory of biological

mother, sister, grandaunt,

grandmother

and all those other wombs beyond...

I see You today in the

expanding womb of my sister

swelling breasts, stretched

back in the sun post delivery

Breast feeding, armband

on your hand first day home...

decidedly male...

wombs protect

from the raging storms outside

wild madness on the streets

turmoil in between sheets

When I touch one, one

way another across the seas

I remember her sacrifices for expensive school fees

cultural divide easy in the belly button

umbilical cord

autumn leaves...October

while i graduating some degreed platform

lonely in the rain

what a contrast

what makes us happy but a new little person

on the scene

When I see you, touch you

I do so out of an abundance of love

that talk means nothing “There is no love

remembering your first crises

scared over a red toy cow, fearing you would choke over

sugar cane

but you did not, walking on water in the bittersweet canes of life...

She gave you life

and Aunty here is just

happy to be a fraction

of the enterprise

I see you meeting realizing her

unmet dreams, without scheming

and it is all, all right because in

this life, a seed falls, grows into a tree,

fruits fall we eat you and me

and we become one with the soil

a mix of souls

homeland toil

just songs soften life blows

when other candles glow dim

like candles on the cake

we have and eat it too

I lay you in a car seat

Then decades later

u are being taught to drive

keep alive

“Don’t drink and drive”...

trucks, trailers

ships

cruise decks...

You may not know her like I do

Sisters

know

and no one can ever replace a sister, even if they try really hard to

i am a shadow of myself I tell you without my sister

and that is the honest truth

sitting in the celebrations of 100 yrs anywhere

the pause

is real the melt down

she is not here... not even in the water bottle..

cause I know why the laughter

of “Shebadda”: was her medicine for me

and the Chinese restaurant on that corner

I remember the glow of candles there too...skip

..

food in the darkest dimmest intersections

I now know why she chose that boundary

she was already in that sad future with me.

leaving me with instructions how to take of you

“My Children are very delicate you know....” she said

enough “sad”, warning... for true you are like butter...

Tis... all Aunty do

can never replace in any what shape or form what a Mother is

so they

say pretty pink October

not so to me...

Mother is

Mama the first to do it

heart

bear the first born

blowing that horn

toothing fame

Surely Mother... yes “Remember her name”

there is no other like Mother

any season

for any reason

Mother

Mama

Mammie

“Aunty sey so”

– Helen-Ann Elizabeth