Poem

The Burden of Man

What is a man?
A job that you didn’t apply for
A job that you don’t take vacation
A job that hurts and breaks
A thankless job

You sacrifice your life
You sacrifice your time
You sacrifice your patience
You sacrifice your peace
And yet it’s never enough

You must learn the way of pain,
Knowing pain, you must learn quickly
Pain birth you, pain demands you
Run, fly… but no one escapes pain
Make peace; pain does not care

A man with many faces
One day you get to be angel,
Another day, you are a savage
One day you are a peacemaker,
Another day, you are trouble

A man without empathy
A man without ethics
A man who lacks economics
A man who lacks emotions
That man is not a made man

No one owes you anything
Yet, you owe your life
Yet, you owe your time
Yet, you owe your strength
To a world that keeps taking

You will understand quickly –
Pain is real
Failure is a teacher
Power is corrupt
Purpose is the only explanation

Other men have suffered before you
Other men are suffering now
Other men will suffer then
Know this, know peace
The curse of suffering continues

There is always a man out there –
Hoping to take what is yours
Wanting to use you
Open to betray you
Eager to kill you

I hope one day my young sons-
Ruled by wisdom and strength
Find meaning and their purpose
Understand the burden of a man
And survive this terrible world

The Smell of Jamaica

The smell of Jamaica, dah vibes upon vibes,
whispering through Blue Mountain mist,
where coffee smoke, thick as prophecy,
climbs and curls in ancestral tongues.
It is the incense of emancipation,
the balm of weary feet on Doctor’s Cave sands.

Listen—rocksteady still hums beneath the skin of the island,
reggae beating like heart against rib,
drums telling stories older than empire.
“Out of Many, One People”—
a motto stitched in kente and calypso,
where ackee and saltfish simmer
beside the laughter of children,
their mouths red with sorrel, sweet and sharp.

Jah love walks barefoot
down Seven Miles of Negril,
waves clapping like tambourines
to the rhythm of the doctor bird,
its tailstream painting gospel in the air.
Here, the carnival is no costume only,
but the sacred right of joy,
a luxury of freedom seized from chains,
spilled into song, into dance, into flesh.

O Cuba, O Haiti, O Florida shores—
hear the island breathing,
a harbour of delights,
sun-drenched and unbroken.
Resorts bustle, yes,
but beneath them, the roots—
maroon drums, nyabinghi chants,
voices like Hughes’ rivers,
deep, dark, eternal.

For the smell of Jamaica is not tourist perfume,
but fire and frankincense,
rum and bob marley drink,
a pungent promise of peace and love,
the slow burn of ganja wisdom,
and the urgency of rights restored.

Beyond the bustle of resorts and guaranteed sunshine,
the island breathes deeper—
lush vegetation, roots older than empire,
branches bent but never broken.
Here, soil remembers maroon footsteps,
chants rising like smoke to the stars.

The smell of Jamaica is not tourist perfume.
It is ancestral incense,
ganja’s bitter-sweet prayer,
salt air singing through coral reefs,
children’s voices rising like hymns of dawn.
Every drumbeat, every laugh, every tear
is a psalm fi survival,
a poem fi peace.

Yes, Jamaica nah just a place,
she a spirit, she a living word.
She smell of resilience and rhythm,
she taste of rain and redemption.
I and I say—
one love,
one people,
one sound,
ever blessed, ever irie,
Jah guide di land of vibes upon vibes.

The Departed

Before you judge the soul who fell,
They may have lived a private hell.
Perhaps they cried, but none could hear,
Or reached for help that wasn’t near—
And gone too soon, the departed.

They bore the weight of cruel disdain,
Mocked and broken, scarred by pain.
Betrayed by those they held as true,
With nothing left to cling onto—
And gone too soon, the departed.

Behind closed doors, they hid their cries,
Masked their hurt with hollow lies.
Each smile a shield, each laugh a mask,
Each moment a survival task—
And gone too soon, the departed.

They weren’t selfish, just afraid.
A fragile heart the world dismayed.
Rejected, scorned, or cast aside,
Alone they suffered, though they tried—
And gone too soon, the departed.

“You don’t belong,” the echoes said.
“You’re not enough,” was daily fed.
“You’re just a burden,” burned inside.
So dreams and self-began to die—
And gone too soon, the departed.

They traded torment for release,
A restless soul who longed for peace.
They stopped a breath to stop the ache,
One silent step for their own sake—
And gone too soon, the departed.

Tired of battles, worn and bruised,
Tired of being always used.
Tired of pleading, tired of pain,
Tired of trying all in vain—
And gone too soon, the departed.

Anxiety like wildfire spread,
While midnight whispers filled their head.
Despair became their only friend,
A loss, a wound that wouldn’t mend—
And gone too soon, the departed.

The sword of hopelessness struck deep,
The storm of loneliness struck anew
Each thought a wound, unhealed, unkind.
And the ruins of shame bled straight through—
And gone too soon, the departed.

The power of powerlessness drained their flame,
Each breath, a burden; each day the same.
They fought in silence, broke apart,
With no one there to mend their heart—
And gone too soon, the departed.

Today is Today

Today drips like ripe fruit,
crushed beneath the feet of kings and beggars alike.
There are laughters—wild, like tambourines in drunken alleys.
There are cries—long, like cathedrals echoing prayers that rot.
Today is today—
no mask, no mercy.

Somewhere, a woman breathes peace into her child’s soft hair,
Elsewhere, bones rattle beneath the boots of men with metal hearts.
Freedom dances barefoot in one square—
In another, a soul is shackled for dreaming.
Today is today—
a coin flipped by invisible gods.

Each sunrise is a loaded gun—
pointed at luck, or loss.
Some sip wine with trembling lips and call it survival.
Others bleed, silently, into clean white sheets.
Today is today—
the blade and the balm.

Alive—yes, the earth still spins
in her dress of dust and fire.
Life kisses us, bites us, forgets us.
But still,
Today is today—
undeniable, holy,
and cruel as love.

Sorry, but not sorry

Sorry, I am loud, but not sorry—it’s my voice, my power, my pride,
Sorry, I take up space, but not sorry—I refuse to shrink or hide.
Sorry, I speak my mind, but not sorry—truth should never be confined,
Sorry, I laugh too much, but not sorry—joy is rare and hard to find.
Sorry, I dream big, but not sorry—I was never built for small inside.

Sorry, I put myself first, but not sorry—I can’t pour from empty hands,
Sorry, I say no, but not sorry—boundaries help me take a stand.
Sorry, I walk away, but not sorry—I don’t dance to their demands,
Sorry, I rest when I need, but not sorry—peace is not a thing to brand.
Sorry, I move on fast, but not sorry—life won’t wait for second chance.

Sorry, I eat a lot, but not sorry—I am feeding soul and bone,
Sorry, I snore too loud, but not sorry—I don’t sleep to please alone.
Sorry, I change my mind, but not sorry—growth is how the wise are grown,
Sorry, I take my time, but not sorry—rushed is how mistakes are sown.
Sorry, I love myself, but not sorry—confidence is self-made throne.

Sorry, I miss your call, but not sorry—I am living, not just seen,
Sorry, I won’t explain myself, but not sorry—I owe no in-between.
Sorry, I let things go, but not sorry—I choose peace over the mean.
Sorry, I walk my own path, but not sorry—it’s my journey, it’s my scene.
Sorry, I cannot come to the party, but not sorry—I am broke and trying to save.

The Little Guy

The little guy finds a family.
He found trouble at a young age.
He was mocked for his looks.
He was ignored as a middle child.
Who is looking out for the little guy?

He managed to attend school.
He was in pain, but no one cared.
He was ridiculed every recess.
He was bullied for being different.
Who is looking out for the little guy?

He started to become a man.
He was expected to show, but no one showed.
Adolescence caught up with him, but he was behind.
He had a gift no one wanted.
Who is looking out for the little guy?

He became the family diamond—
All bright, but no one wanted him to shine.
He was used, and only one cared.
The one who cared passed to glory.
Who is looking out for the little guy?

He became a family man.
He was working; he was adulting.
He thought he had found his heart of gold.
But all that glitters is not gold.
Who is looking out for the little guy?

He is wrestling with life—
Pain upon pain,
Distress upon distress,
Trouble upon trouble.
Who is looking out for the little guy?

The little guy hears the noise.
The little guy feels the betrayal.
The little guy knows the pain.
The little guy shows up anyway.
Who is looking out for the little guy?

The little guy is abused.
The little guy suffers.
The little guy struggles.
The little guy accepts fate.
Who is looking out for the little guy?

No one cares to hear the little guy.
No one tries to help the little guy.
No one wants to love the little guy.
No one dares to know the little guy.
No one is looking for the little guy.

Gift and Giftings

A woman is man

A man is a woman

A human is man

Biology is real

Reality is different

Experience makes the difference

A male child is not the best

The female child deserves the rest

Human is the crest

She is not a cook

He is not a crook

That is not true

She is the new He

He is the old She

Here are a few seed

He is the most powerful

She is the most resourceful

We should be all grateful

Faithfulness

Untitled Design

What is faithfulness?
Why faithfulness matter?
How do we measure faithfulness?
How can one be faithful?

Faithful in your professional duties, elevates your role
Faithful in the opportunities around you, open more doors
Faithful in that low pay job, unlocks a high pay job
Faithful in managing a few, expect dozen at your doorsteps

Faithful in little things qualifies you for the big stuff
Faithful in the big stuff, gets you bigger stuff
If a quarter of us choose to be faithful today
This world will be a better place today

(more…)

The Killer

thekiller

The killer seeks pardon from death
The rapist does not want to be raped

The thief does not fancy being robbed
The judge rather not face judgment

The troll detest trolls
The rich forever feeds off the poor

The liar expects to be told the truth
Gossipers hates their gossips

The cheater abhors cheats
What if we are all selfish bastards

Then this world is lost
You can save the world

Where Do You Stand

ST

I stand for equality
I stand for justice
I stand for righteousness
I stand for education
I stand for freedom
I stand for transparency
I stand for governance
I stand for good hygiene
I stand for food for all
I stand for water for all
I stand for power for all
I stand for shelter for all

Where do you stand?

Stand