I haven’t written to this blog in a while, but I think the writer of the blog either. It seems like facebook is the new play toy for most to vent your views and amass support. Blogs still offer some freedoms that to accomplish on facebook thy will not be consider freedoms. I am still learning how to creating effective pages!
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The Rihanna Haters
Tattoos! Hair Every
Robyn lost It didn’t Her And she No matter Not showing And to
Having the And the Them all Every Rihanna came She was
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Today I as reminded of all the things that had been lost to me and so many others because of the fire on September 3, 2010 brought about by two dastardly Bajans and resulted in the lost of six lives
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Things I Lost In The Fire
Tragedy, Heinous killers I am most No right Going to Slice away It leaves Larcenists, Or society Showing This fire I feel the No chance There’ll How hard Every Fire took In some Regrets I Even more
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In my reading, I confess I only read from the electronic media nowadays, I found a poem that stimulated the writing of this acrostic poem. Many of you know that I write to free some of my memories and hopefully share them with you and others to come. Unfortunately the bulk of your comments are still through email or other means so I don’t get to share them with other readers.
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The Best Was Then To Come
They moved Hard at Excitement
Beats Ecstasy Slicking They kept
Wiping A long So it was
The saxophone Had master Ever since Nifty maneuvers
This and Orchestrated
Climax One more My life Exception
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This acrostic was inspired from an entry posted on one of my regular reads. The imagery is always so good with the short little messages that are hidden in the writer’s works and can bring out new ideas to old things. Here is what I felt after reading about the “Pillow”
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My Soft Floral Pillow
Mommy always washed and put it there for me Yellow flowers adorn my pillow and it was soft and comfy She washed it in detergent that smelt like a bouquet On nights I felt like I was in a garden when I knelt to pray For years this same pillow heard my cries Tear drops were cushioned when they left my eyes For years this same pillow caressed me to sleep Lullabies weren’t necessary and I slept with not a peep Once I was grown this pillow knew it all Right turns, wrong turns, ever success, every downfall All the things I whispered in the night Love at play and the lovers’ fight Priceless was this pillow now with all it knew I felt comforted, cushioned, cared for and loved true Last night when I roused from a nightmare Lifted my head from my pillow in despair Once again this pillow ended my demise When it hushed my fears and persuaded me to close my eyes
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Every day there is more talk rippling through the air waves, spreading the unfortunate news that makes people think the worst. The greater consideration at hand is how we can lift the Haitians to their feet and let them live a better standard live than previously obtained. But all the rumors are starting to fuel into reluctance to help.
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And More Aftershocks
And the tremors continue Not seismic but from people who argue Dangerous words like ripples in the air
Making unrest to those who attentively hear One man’s shout in Creole meaning the food has expired Rippled through the city and children hungry and tired Eating the energy biscuits dropped them immediately
And precious food was soon refused in Haiti First aid was paramount still the doctors say There was insufficient equipment to save Anaika Thursday Earth shattering ripples again spread throughout the Ripples that the mighty US couldn’t save this 11 years Shocks of all kinds like machete wielding men Have rippled through the media with no apparent end One shock of embezzlement and fraud detract from ground Casualties are estimated at 200,000, or more than we Keep a steady foot my friend though the aftershocks are Shun the rippling rumors, the racial slurs and lets HELP
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Here is a special Christmas wish to you bloggers, who have chosen to follow and submit occasionally. I am often inspired by the happenings all around and respond in my usual acrostic style. Some readers have redirected complementary comments with encouragement. I hope that this year my works can be discovered but until they are, I continue to wish you the very best
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Bloggers
Blessed Lots of Our countries Give your God sent His Erase Satan’s Remember friends Seasons
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Some time the thing we pray for will come through, in fact all things we pray for earnestly will come through. God will ensure that all things are given to His beloved once they live righteous lives. And when the minutes seem to pass and the hours, weeks, months and the year, don’t be surprise that you were having such fun you didn’t notice time slipping by. Enjoy your life, live blissfully, you are blessed.
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Merry Christmas Y’all
My year just started and now it’s Every day slipped by unnoticed Rose up on mornings often unaware Rapidly past each month and now You may wonder why such Casual you may think for me to Hours slip by and to not know Really wrong of me to let time I understand your criticism but Some time last year someone Thrilled to the ultimate and My life was blissful and the time Are you wishing for friends the Sharing merriment with them and Yule Tide brings them peace and for Are you praying their lives be free Learn friend that your earnest Lord to Bajegirl’s readers
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We buy a red poppy and wear it on our clothes as if it were some trend and too many of us forget why. Too many people forget the many sons and daughters who left their families intending to return to them. The many fathers who never got back to their kids and husbands who never knew they had kids. I think of all the sad love stories that never had a happy ending. War destroys many countries of people. And the broken ones that return, never stop fighting.
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Some Came Back
Soldiers who in battle fought Overcame the enemy but some did not My heart goes out to them all Enemies they fought were big and small
Cause those who returned from the war zone Are still fighting battles of their own Mind wars that disturb their sleep at night Enemies who show up to continue the fight
Body parts missing and dysfunctional too Are constant small enemies with battles new Courageous soldiers who died and Some Came Back living in dismay Keeps reminding me why I support with a red poppy on Remembrance Day!
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This is a very sensitive topic for me because I question what our culture is very often. But what I am sure of is that by now we should be able to entertain our own just as we focus on educating our own. With all the talent we can see all around us why can’t a weekend be spent all year long seeing local movies, theatre, song and dance. Why do we develop a large Gymnasium that is structured for shows but the shows are then imported?
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The Demolition Of Culture
They take our hard earn money Hack it up with V.A.T, Taxes direct and taxes indirectly Erect buildings that prove to be a waste Demolish the plans other governments left in place Education gets unfettered priority Millions spent developing a larger University Only to hand out degrees to masses Leaving there with questionable passes I see some scholars less learnt than me They can’t make good sentences but have a degree I see how they dress and hear the music they play Our young minds have been demolished to influences of the U.S.A Not enough is done to preserve our creed Our sons and daughters that sprung from a forefather’s seed Failure to give any importance as kids are grown Culture for Barbados is left on its own Useless authorities with vain promises to revamp structures Like the Empire and Queens Park Theatres There is little focus to harvest skills that are ours Until the young ones make big, then named Ambassadors Rihanna and Ryan were the most recent of these Entreat the authorities to abandon The Demolition of Culture please!
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I always question journalism and reporters. I can see how they are potentially good professions but I can’t help but think of the reporter chasing the story and gets his camera man to keep rolling as he commentates a crime in progress, a rape maybe. They tell me that unless they do their job we might never learn of the rape. Well maybe if they were prepared to do something about it, there might be no rape to hear about
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Where’s The Investigative Journalism
We once had a paper the Investigator Had good articles but its centerfolds caused an Editions delved behind the scene Research into the personal and sometimes the Educated us about Bajans’ other side Some of the things the aristocrats want us to hide They exposed the street life of those who Had questionable work and avoided the men in blue Escapades into the still of the night, shadows and Investigated them in the familiar street and our Now the paper was only in its infancy Virtually a startup when it met its finale Enticing photos distracted its readers So eventually it joined the fate of other lost This could have been a first Investigating Barbados and its worst Greater insight into the things that perturb All the political deceits, religious hypocrites The publisher should have foreseen the Investigator’s It should have been clear we wanted journalists who Voyeurism done respectfully with hopes that they Expose our miscreants who wore their suits each Journalists seem to lack the appetite Or too afraid to climb into the trenches, knuckle up Unable to shed new spins on old stories Repeating the same news in the papers, on radios None of them emulate Rachel Maddow or Anderson Avid journalists who investigate to uncover Lies perpetrated from where ever the source Investigative journalism to quote right from the Sure, if there is an appeal for police to act more Most other professionals should take their work
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