Dear Father

Dear Father,

Before you were a father, you were once a son,

Before you were a leader, you were first lead.

Before you were a provider, you were provided for,

Before you were a teacher, you first had to learn.

Dear Father,

Before your first love, you were already loved,

Before your first house, you had more than a home.

Before your first award, you were the prize of our hearts.

Before your first venture, you would never walk alone.

Dear Father,

Before there were seven, there was only one,

Before bringing us together, there was a change of heart.

Before there were differences, there was understanding.

Before there was fighting, there was forgiveness.

Dear Father, Dear Father, Dear Father.

Dear Father!

Before there can be healing, there must first be trust!

Dear Father!

Before we can be lions, we must first be a pride!

Dear Father!

Before we can be strong, we must first be united!

Dear Father,

Before this comes to an end, there must first be a new beginning.

Dear Father...

Love from a father, should exceed all bounds.

Love from a father, should nourish our souls.

Love from a father, should seek to uplift.

Love from a father, should be, just love.

Dear Father,

Where are you?

Photo credit: https://themuslimvibe.com

Give Me Strength

Give me the strength,
To find the balance, the yin the yang.
Give me the strength,
To be positive in this world.
The black man has been accused of being spineless,
Give me strength.
The black man is weak, he is no father to the youth.
He pillages, he rapes, he molests,
Give me strength.
The black man is still mentally enslaved,
He is still the single point of failure of the black home,
Give me strength.
Mass media will continue to portray us as nothing,
Except the saggy pants, gold chain, gold teeth, skinny jeans, open chest
Give me strength.
Nothing has changed since 1492 when Christopher come buss us
Started the dawn of a new era, when black men would be on the end of chains
And sold to the highest bidder.
Demoralised.
Desensitised.
De-fucking everything.
Give me strength.
Its time for me, for you,
For every black man to take back the courage,
The strength, the values that the men and women of ancient Sumerian ages,
Inscribed in stone tablets before the Christian version
Raped, pillaged, and confused our minds in this age.
Give me stregnth.
The profile of my race is skewed but who am I?
I'm a racially profiled uncounted, unidentified black man,
Give me strength.

Expressions: Poetry in the Pub

So another love of mine is photography and I've been practicing taking some snaps at the monthly poetry night down in Redcliffe Quay which happens the second Tuesday of each month. The pictures in this article are from last months session, and tonight I'll be performing and taking some more pics! In the meantime check out February's Poetry in the Pub pictures!

In terms of poetry, I usually like to do a couple of pieces on the night. I always like to improve my performances, and sometimes it might just suit the mood so I might pull an old one out the hat. Sometimes, I can't decide on a piece until I'm actually walking up to take the mic so I like to do a new one as well. It keeps me actively writing, and given how busy I tend to get with the monotony of work everyday, and other parts of life, this outing gives me some focus on one of my passions.

The atmosphere is friendly and relaxing, and is a different experience every single time. From poetry, to spoken word, to readings of books from local authors, to music from our local and very talented artists and bands.

Every artist has their unique way of expressing themselves and as you get to know them, it feels like we're all one big family. Feeding off of each other's energy, laughter and enjoy abounds at each moment. Then there are the pieces that when performed, resonate deeply with your soul, and take you into a different world and perspective like Marcella's powerful poetry that speaks from the heart.

Charles who sings about his love for his one and only, delivers what can only be described as the pouring out of his soul albeit in vain, for the one that he loves does not love him!

Its a phenomenal experience that every Antiguan and Barbudan, not to mention any international guests to our island, should definitely enjoy.

Some down and enjoy some wine, and delightful treats from the quaint little pub, Heavenly Java 2 Go from 8pm.

Persons interested in performing can sign up in advance by calling 720-4276 or 779-6634 or emailing the organisers: augustrush.antigua@gmail.com

Hope to see you there!

The Artist

I'm not a writer, I'm an artist.
Like a lighter, but burn brighter,
Because my soul, spews these images,
but withholds, behind thin metaphorical veils all that lies within.

I'm like a Michelangelo, or a Da Vinci,
or you can just call me whatever you want I'm easy,
My flows are like the river Nile bringing life, reason and mind, to mine.
Because what's mine is mine, for this I need no nine.

It's like in the beginning was just mind, just one.
And that transcended into what has now become, me.
But, who is that? Does this mean that I'm free? Or is my consciousness just a part,
A part of a greater me, a better me, or a better you?

But then that means two, so now the question is who?
Who could this great man be? Gather round children let's see.
I never wanted to be an artist, I'm just a writer,
I just write about what I see, how I feel, and what could be.

Like that time when all I used to watch on TV,
Was Goku in Dragon Ball Z.
I write about love, I write about what's mine, I write about what's on my mind.
But what's on my mind, is now in your mind, so now I'm writing about you.

And you're beautiful, you're elegant, I really think you're heaven sent,
Because I ponder about our journey, and how far we've come. The things that we haven't done.
There's so much of you in me, and there's so much still to do and see.
My goal is just to let you be.

We'll meet again some day, when the sky is dark and the clouds are grey,
But for now we live as if there was no tomorrow, no sorrow, no need to borrow,
Like a great man said, all that is, and was, will be.

I've got your back, so lets conquer this world, one line at a time.
One mind, that stands free. But we all know, that you know, that we know all that is, and was.
But what about will be? My déjà vu is the result of my dreams,
I dream about jobs I never knew, I never wanted or needed, or even planned to be in,

But this isn't about a writer anymore, it's about what you see in me, that you see in yourself.
I was created in his image,  with life in every etching, every shade, and every oil,
But I'm not an artist, so when the words lift up my soul I glide.
Am I an artist or a writer, you decide.

My Rose In the Garden

My rose in the garden,
Beautiful in every way.

Every curve glistening,
With every ray of light,
That shines upon its surface,
My rose in the garden.

My rose in the garden,
Its sweet scent is as delightful,
As it is soft to the touch.

Rare, refreshing, stunning, so beautiful,
You are, my rose in the garden.