Most Outstanding Young Poet: Zeleca Julien
Educate me Black
Little black boy go to school and learn,
Little black boy show some concern,
‘Coz education is the key
To make it
In this
Capitalist
Society.
Education? What for?
The key for what door?
Better yet whose door?
It’s just education right?
A brainwashed misinterpretation like
A pale-blushed foundation that we write in our imaginations,
Recite in our proclamations,
Despite our conditions.
We spent years learning A for Apple and Q for Queen
And kill we dead we is part ah that team;
Because R was not for the Rasta Man or his Ras,
No, they say that can’t pass- while we reading “Snow White and the Seven Dwarves”.
But guess what... that was part of the past!
And now is 2010 craft
And we have real class.
Because snow white but pitch black;
And when it crack...
We get the richest oil,
Like when they crack we backs and force the toil
They get the sweetest soil
The sweetest crop
So tell them stop!
‘Coz we don’t want to learn it the pale way
That is a fail there
Teach we the facts
Teach we it black!
I don’t want to know nothing about Columbus
‘Coz all he ever did was enslaved us
So much
That he brought Jesus
To save us.
Teach me about Rosa Parks who refused to get off the bus,
Martin Luther King who said enough is enough.
Teach me ‘bout Toussaint L’ouverture who fight to stop slavery in Haiti
Teach me about the great Marcus Mosiah Garvey
The black army
The anti- slavery
The past history
The present piracy
The future legacy
Black freedom
Emancipation
1834 to 2010
How emancipated are we?
Same slavery different owners
Same business different partners
Same system different name
Everything is still the same.
Educate me about that... about black!
Education, education it is the foundation
Without an education in your head
Your whole life will be pure misery yuh better off dead
And I want to be able to live to be able to give back what I owe to the world’s scale
Whole sale
But like we could only buy back we culture retail;
But when we sold it, it was on ‘sale’;
And now everything we know is imported
Cultural knowledge exported
Our minds extorted.
And as we watch our education escorted away from us; and we wish it well
Our educators still remain unsupported, they can’t supply us; so we ketchin’ hell
After years in school from ABC to PHD
We still doh know nutten about we
We complain how the pan too noisy
The soca too wassy
And we still need hip hop and dancehall to satisfy we.
We forget bout the hosay and camboulay battles of course,
Nobody cah remember when we knock Baker off he horse.
Nobody cah remember
the struggle with Buttler
when he face the dragon fire;
For all that he do
They build him a statue,
Give him a highway;
And by the way
Nobody can’t say that Dagga was treated any better
For the tussle for black power.
Remember
Bakr and the coup
That is all part ah you.
Don’t teach me your foreign crap
Educate me black.
COPYRIGHT © Zeleca Julien
Poet of Merit: Devi Ramnath
Tainted
I pretend I don’t care,
While they pretend I am not here.
They speak of me once more,
As my emotions are left raw.
My rigid body alone in my room,
Slowly, becomes my mind’s tomb.
The madness has spread, the whirlwind’s begun,
Creeping through my sanity, the madness has won.
Their voices painted on my memories,
Replays despite my desperate pleas.
I turn the music up loud,
I know I could never make them proud.
In this constant tsunami of desperate sorrow,
The pain tortures my mind mercilessly, afraid of another tomorrow ,
Screaming and crying and lusting for death,
Begging and praying to draw my last breath.
Worthless emptiness haunts my soul,
My lack of purpose has made me an outcast of the world.
Losing my rationality as the ceaseless agony consumes me,
Plagued by the immortal misery, I long to be free.
Hunger, torture, an unreasonable desire,
Reaching and trying, but humans tire.
My creators I try to serve you,
But failed as your expectations grew.
A worthless failure out in the cold,
My mind bleeds out through my broken soul.
‘Till all that is left is stained and grey,
My consciousness is slipping away.
COPYRIGHT © Devi Ramnath
3rd Place Winner: Nathan Edwards
Heart Breaker
I reminisce my dear…,
We were so deeply in love, I felt on cloud nine in the air.
Through the gentle breeze, you lifted me up, up and away,
Many hours…, everyday.
You gazed and watched me go reluctantly,
Then pulled me close again, slowly.
The crimson sunrise and russet sunset we spent together,
Brought so much pleasure,
You vowed we would be together, forever.
I was enticing, with great flavour,
Slim, smooth, and sweet to savour.
I brought you style, glamour and fashion,
And even eased your tension.
I was number one on your lips, always there by your side,
And so elated when you chose to invite me, inside,
I happily entered, together with tar, nicotine, and carbon dioxide,
Nitrogen oxides, ammonia, and hydrogen cyanide.
You confesses, “ah cyah do without meh boy”
And oh how I jumped for joy.
Back then, I was a great asset
But now you reproach that I am your greatest regret.
You said, “I did’n know yuh true nature,
Yuh increase meh heart rate and blood pressure.”
You were slowly committing suicide,
As I contained a poison used as an insecticide.
You said that I concealed the fact ,
That I coated your white teeth with plaque.
That I converted each tissue, organ and cell,
Until you were nothing more than an empty shell,
Further, that I made your life a living hell.
Didn’t you know I was so powerful?
Did you really believe, you were the one in control?
You really thought that you could leave me when you feel?
Sweetheart that was never the deal!
It’s until death, do us part!
I am with you, lock, stock, barrel, liver and heart.
I proudly admit that I brought much garbage into the marriage,
Yes my dear, heart attacks and strokes, are part of my package.
Now, I look for a new lover,
Cause you won’t last long with your damaged heart and lung cancer.
Praise to my father, the cigar manufacturer,
For without him I would have no power.
To those who never tried me before, I call on you to start,
I want your organs, but especially your heart,
I take millions of lives each day,
From Trinidad to Norway.
Tears of regret cannot change the hands of time,
As long as you, “burn my baby burn,” you are mine.
COPYRIGHT © Nathan Edwards
