Pics with verse Storyteller

Blue Mountian Peace photo from #VisitJamaica

Up there where the air smells like the coffee plant,  where the trees shimmer blue against the midday sun, where parrots can be heard carrying on a conversation. where the voices of the farm workers can be heard as they harvest the coffee beans. Where when it rains the rich soil sticks to your feet as you trod through the underbrush. Where rainbows hang so low you feel like you can reach out and catch them when they fall. Where the air is so crisp and clean it shocks your body at first breath. Where birds sing a melody as peaceful as a Marley song. And when the night fall, you can hear the echo of Rasta drums bouncing off the rolling hill tops. So you sit there quietly consuming the Blue Mountain magic.


Those Eyes

Those eyes, like the colour of the Caribbean Sea at midday

Tempting sky blue alight with daydreams

Velvet moon with a silver lining

Raspberry soda pop bubbling

Two petals from a bloom of Love in the mist

Twin Earths twinkling with life

Blue mountain mist in the early morning

Sparkle like a blue fish, right under the surface of the ocean

Brilliant like Blue myth on a rainy day

Those eyes are like swimming a mile in a cool blue lagoon

Pics with verse Storyteller

Early Morning Ocean

Its 6 am, the sun is just rising as if being given birth by the green hill top. You stand on the beach right where the ocean crashes onto the beach. You shake a little as the cool ocean rushes around your feet., feel you feet sink into the sand as it retreats into the blue surf. Close your eyes and see that moment play back in your head in slow motion. Realize that you are not dreaming, you really are standing on the edge of paradise found.

Pics with verse Storyteller

Good Marning me Neighbours

Good Marning me Neighbours

I tell you what, its a good morning to be on the open sea, feel the breeze rush against your face, watch the boat cut through the tropical blue ocean, feel it bounce on the surface, smell the salt in the air, lay back and get lost in the blue and white sky, listing to the sails flapping in the wind. Its Sunday, peace day. Its time to relax and live while you are living.

POEMS Storyteller

The Boy With The Blue Eyes Artwork by Bonnie Moore Delong

The Boy With The Blue Eyes Artwork by Bonnie More Delong

He laughs so hard he begins to cry

Blueberry nectar across the sky

Giving colour to the Blue Butterfly Bush

Creating innocence in the tropical ocean

And the serenity of the gently swirling lagoon

A world you see from outer space

Crystal blue floating in charcoal mist

They are the sparkle of the mountains of Jamaica

The bloom of bonnet fields in Texas

The peace of the Blue Haze of Medford Oregon

And when they close

The light disappears

And the world goes back to being ordinary


From Disorganized Crime, editing some.

Mr. Green and Mr. Blue were fighting with a fat man in a small apartment. Chairs, tables, lamps, dishes and even picture frames were everywhere. The place looked like a hurricane had hit it. Mr. Blue’s cell phone rang.

“Hello.” Mr. Blue said then listened.

“Who is it,” Mr. Green asked

“Oh, Vince, It’s you,” Mr. Blue said looking at Mr. Green. The fat man struggles and Mr. Blue punches him in the face.

“Am on the phone here, did you mother not teach you manners?” He said, the fat man mumbled something. Mr. Green put his foot on the man’s face. The man growled like an angry bear as he spat blood.

“What he want,” Mr. Green asked, Mr. Blue flashed him an irritated glance and talked into the phone.

“Go where?” Mr. Blue said then listened. Mr. Green struggled with the fat man’s feet, and for a second one of the man’s feet came loose from his grip and Mr. Blue was kicked in the face. The phone fell out of his hand and the fat man rolled over on it. They struggled to move the man as Vince’s voice filled the room like a CB radio. Mr. Blue managed to retrieve the phone and listened.

“What he saying?” Mr. Green insisted. Mr. Blue ignored him

“I know where it is,” he said into the phone. The fat man tried to get his foot loose again so Mr. Green sat him on the leg but his teeth fell out and he scrambled to pick it up before the fat man rolled over on it. He put it back in his mouth,

“What?” He screamed at Mr. Blue. Mr. Blue kept talking into the phone,

“We are Kinda busy right now,” he said, then listened,

“O K we will be there,” he said and rolled his eyes. “All right All right.” He said then gritted his teeth at the phone as he hung up. Mr. Green punched the fat man on his butt then glared over at Mr. Blue,

“What?” he screamed, the fat man began to struggle harder, as if sensing that his time to die was near. Mr. Blue punched him in the face and looked over at Mr. Green.

“We have to hurry,” he said. Mr. Green punches the fat man on the butt again,

“O K” he said, let’s take care of this pig, I think he soiled himself,” Mr. Blue grabbed the fat man by his neck tie and pulled him up, he swings a meaty hand at Mr. Blue and they fell to the floor, the fat man landed on Mr. Green. The green Disco Assassin bit the man on his arm again but once again lost his teeth.

“O K you are dead!” he shouted, they wrestled with the fat man, Mr. Green finally managed to get on top of him and began punching him in the face. When the man was unconscious they both kicked him until his face was a bloody mess.

“Hey, I think he is dead,” Mr. Blue said, resting his hand on Mr. Green’s shoulder to stop him from kicking. Mr. Green looked around for his teeth, but they were spilled all over the carpet. He kicked the man one more time. They cleaned up, made sandwiches, made sure  the wiped place clean then walked out.


Pics with verse Storyteller



There is a hole in the clouds, close your eyes, float into nowhere, realize that it is somewhere for some people.