BAJAN SUN MAGAZINE
POETRY
I
stop
and
stare
while
culture
sliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiides down societal cracks.
Desperate, I snatch air with clawed
fingernails, digging trenches where villages
were …
Where values were….
Where neighbours were neighbours and
looked out for you,
Even though they were gipsy and always
wanting to know your business.
Most of the time you could still go and
borrow something you needed,
Knowing that, when their time came, they
would borrow something from you in return.
I stop and stare – I scream! – as Bajan ways
go the way of the dodo,
Slowly becoming extinct as the natural Bajan
landscape
Gets bought over by foreign investments
And as cooking rice and peas, chicken and
macaroni pie
Is replaced by going to Super Centre on
Sunday (oops … now Massy) and buying
ready done meals;
Where my children rather buy chicken and
chips than eat pudding and souse,
And where we hear Jingle Bells ring out
loooooooooooooooong
Before military shouts on the Independence
Day Parade.
DEC 2014
JUST WATCHING
(Which, by the way, is being held this year in
December… wha’ de bird!)
You would think that, at 48, our country
would have a stronger sense of self,
But, we are still picking others’ traditions off
the used section - the clearance shelf And trying them on for size before going out
Trick or Treating.
I stop and stare in horror as Bajan’s friendly
faces turn sour
Wondering where the next meal will come
from,
Slicing thick loaves of nothing from the
breadline…
As we struggle to stand under the strain of
financial burden.
And, I wonder why – at almost a half
century of age –
Barbados is still paying homage to England’s
Queen…
Isn’t this yet seen as repugnant?
But all is not lost - Bajans are still resilient
Though we have the reputation of standing
silent
When others would be more vocal - would
scream out.
We still are hardworking, broad shouldered,
Enduring to build a better tomorrow.
Written by Robert Gibson
www.bajansunonline.com/MAGAZINE/ | [email protected] | @BajanSunOnline