There was a crashing sound, I jumped out of my sleep

With my eyes still half shut I tried to make out what was happening

SHE was in tears on the ground fighting a shadow over her

This dark shadow was moving very fast

Without thinking I ran over –

Wrapped my arms as tight as I could to help HER

But he was stronger than me, than US

He swung me from him his side which landed me in the wall

The lamp on the table was shattered and some broken glass cut me

I sat there BLEEDING as TEARS and BLOOD ran from me

I sat there HELPLESS on the floor looking at HER

HE was enraged with so much ANGER that he didn’t notice me and what he’d done

So SHE ran to ME

Even though she had her fair share of bruises – SHE still RAN to ME


ESCAPE HIM, not sure what the next step would be but-




  • For all WOMEN




Fear’ tales

Wake up little girl! there are no kisses tonight

Go back for those glass slippers! before you know it, you will be walking around here in one foot of shoe

Kiss all the toads in the pond but you know very well no magic exists

Stop staring at the sky and wishing on satellites

There is no “the end” because there was never a “once upon a time’

Foolish girl, close the books and go grow up!

Dear Reader

CaptureTo you its just a statistical data generated from some computer system

But for me,

It’s sharing my thoughts through my fingers and being told some persons took the time out to





or even disliked what I had to say

For that I am humbled

So a big thank you to all readers

Thanks for listening

All that “shimmers” isn’t gold

flip side to “Shimmering Finger”

The sun smiles down and it starts glistening reminding me of memories we once shared

then the rain falls and the storm lingers overhead looming for my soul reflection of what we would never have that we will never be

the sound of the wind blowing reminding me of the roller coaster of emotions you put me on

I sit and ponder was it worth being in love by you but then my thoughts go deeper was it us in love or was it me because looking back it feels like a situation of lovelorn and broken promises that you can never undo

because my heart is broken just like a mirror that shatters thus so my heart shattered for loss of what we could have had that will never be.

If we were in love why did you let us go? why is it so easy to say goodbye to what we had?

the tremendous love making the intense kissing and laughter and joy that we shared

in the midst of it all the question remains the same why?


This poem wasn’t written by me but my friend Kayla who recently went through a break up and in her happiness for my engagement she couldn’t forget the sadness of her break up with my best friend. So in respect to their love I am happy to share her story.  

Are you trying to remove Black with wipes?…

Yellow taped; told to sit in a corner, feeling like I don’t belong there

Looking for an escape or maybe a distraction from the memories of Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King, Nelson Mandela, Malcom X, Nanny, Bustamante, Paul Bogle, Sam Sharpe, Norman Manley, Marcus Garvey. George William Gordon.

Thinking of ‘Roots‘ and creating strategic plans of running like Kunta Kinte

It isn’t much same or different in the 21st century is it? along some line of authority I am reminded of  my origins and some where sometimes submissively directed to stay within the lines of my family tree. As if my branches cannot be extended or my seed cannot be re-planted in that ‘upper’ soil? Are you saying my ancestors wasted sleepless nights carrying blue prints of their ambitions whipped in the deep creases of their black velvet skins?

That even now anyone looking like me are given parameters within which they are governed by rules of conduct…might I add your conduct?

Why are offices mirroring plantations? Why are bodies still sold after hours? Why are children still forced to work like adults? Why is the whip now called the belt? Unfair labour governed by contracts? Does this make it right?

Cry me a river will you? perhaps the Mississippi?

———————————–In honour of Jamaica’s Black History month & Upcoming Bob Marley’s birthday


I have nothing left to give

Everything is broken’

All the games I have lost

and now every part of me feels like I am melting

Feeling like nothing is left of me

It feels harder to breathe and the lines to my poem are soaked in tears

Vision blurred and so is my forever

What do I do with unconditional now?

You took everything with you

It hurts so bad than any other wound I have experienced

I cannot find the source of the pain…it hurts all over

It hurts even more when I try to smile or say the work “OK”

I have no heart beat..just an artificial stone made to replace where my heart was

before it left me

You left me

Now love has flat lined ——————————

I have no heartbeat

I’ve become so numb I can’t even feel my tears

but these droplets on my keyboard must mean I have been crying

Short story: Rhythm Play

Intro: The issue of the impact of Dancehall music on our Jamaican society is quite topical, specifically on the behavior of Youth.  While traveling around high schools, it was observed that many of the buses transporting students are buses playing loud and lewd music.  The buses are usually driven at high speeds while being swayed and in common terms “jook”-

Look at them-young neatly outfitted in their starched uniforms.  They quickly enter the “Passa-Passa”, the “Weddy-Weddy”-oh foolish me, eager to be on my way-enter their bus.  They seem as if they can think don’t they?-they couldn’t possibly.  “Why then would one, wearing such an innocent look, walk into a bus filled with sexual and violent lyrics, driven by drivers who are consumed by these words and who drive like mad men to prove this?”

 “I think it’s time we tried the new bus “Young Blood”-it seems everyone takes that bus!…

I feel quite odd taking a taxi to school”

Angel said, shaking a little as if the thought of disobeying her mother’s wishes had sent shivers down her spine.

 “Not me!” Shen-Shen shot back!

Me not taking dat, you eva si dem wen dem coming out?-full up a sweat an looking untidy?

 “Well maybe it’s because they are hot, haven’t you noticed that the door is always closed, the windows and all? That surely is the cause,”-tried to justify the activities.

 “No mi say!-come met we wait pan Mr.  Jones taxis as usual-watch dis one”

It was the bus driver of ‘Young Blood”, sporting the popular cane row hair style and the latest “boot-cut” pants; stitched tightly at the knees-(the spangy).  He walked swinging the keys around his finger and rocking to the “gun-tune” playing in his bus.

The conductor, similarly dressed, effortlessly guided the students in the bus as if they knew what to do.  Boys at the back first, then girls sat on their laps; Just then, Mr.  Jones pulled up by Shen-Shen’s feet and smiling his broad toothless smile greeted the girls

 “How are my angels this morning?”

 “Very well”,-Shen-Shen replied, in a hushed and subdued tone of voice

 Angel didn’t answer; she was busy contemplating whether or not she should try the bus.

 “You coming?”-Shen-Shen asked.

 “No, I’m taking the bus”.

 She eagerly walked over to “Young Blood” and quickly disappeared into the dark space.  Anger filled Shen-Shen, disappointed filled Mr.  Jones.

 “Shen, what happen to her this morning?-such a condition don’t fit her”

 “She lucky!-drive Mr.  Jones”

 Angel had to sit on a boy’s lap; Odaine was in sixth form while Angel was only in grade nine.  She felt somewhat uneasy and Odaine, sensing her discomfort; debated whether he should relinquish his seat.  Still unresolved he rose and told her to sit.

 “Yow don’t do that, you know how it work dawg-a “lap-up” ting-the conductor instructed.

 Angel had no choice.  Everyone was doing it and so she had to.  Beads of perspiration ran down her back, she refused to look at anyone….Is this, what it is al about she thought but dared not ask.

 The driver drove off-

 “Yow “dads”, music time” shouted someone from the back.

 “Alright mi boss”

 Immediately-RDX-“Ben ova” was selected, sung by one of those artistes Apple’s mother frequently referred to as the devil! Filled the small space and overflowed outside.  She felt guilty and lowered her gaze even more as she watched her school mates “wine” to the “Boom-Boom” rhythm and sexual lyrics, while they sang on top of their voices.

 “What am I doing?’ Angel thought-Mom was right, I shouldn’t be here”

 The driver swayed and “jooked” the bus.  It was as if everyone was consumed by the lyrics, this was indeed a driving Dancehall.

 “Run dat again boss-a daggering we say!”-Odaine shouted.

 He grabbed Angel and started to dance with her like the others were doing.  Angel felt denied of her self esteem, she felt she was in a world of aliens.

 “No!-No!-Angel shouted,

But the music devoured her voice, she shouted even louder this time’

“Mi say no!”

 The driver stopped’” Babes a wa wrong?”, a note of annoyance in his voice.

 “You call that driving?-I can’t even stay one place while you sway the bus like a maniac!”

 “Yow tek a taxi my girl”

 The conductor slammed the bus door and the bus drove off.

 “I am so stupid-Angel said, I’m not an angel, I’m a damn fool’.