The Gray Revolution

Gray clouds float across the sky
Gray faces with silver gray smiles
Gray roses in the garden
Gray ice cream melting, dripping on the gray grass
Gray lovers kiss then turn to ash
Gray soldiers fright for a gray cause
Gray leaders makes gray promises
Gray people in gray marriages
Depending on a gray culture for structure
Gray religions with varying colours of gray for doctrine
Gray spirituality based on gray self image
Gray emotions, or is it emotionless
Living a gray existence
Male or female, black or white
Ok I am going back to sleep
At least the tropical colours still exist there.

POEMS Storyteller


The ocean without salt

Air without oxygen

A ballerina without toes

Ice cream without the cream

Love without the passion

Sleep without rest

War without hate

Politics without the lies

Religion without spirituality

laughter without happiness

serenity without peace

A heart without a heartbeat

Everything with nothing



Food Storyteller

And for desert, some sugar apples please

And for desert, some sugar apples please

Hmmmm like ice cream but natural

Food Storyteller

Tropical fruit

Tropical fruit

Ahhhhhhh yes, Guava, Guava jam, Guava jelly, Guava ice-cream, Guava juice, or just fining a tree on top of a hill, climbing to the top, sitting on the highest branch looked over a field and pick the fruit one by one and eat while taking in the scenery. Ahhh yes, boyhood days.

Stories Storyteller

Apples, the Christmas treat.

When I was a boy on the island, the only time we got apples was at Christmas. I remember running past the the dining room table and sitting in the middle of it was a straw fruit basket was about ten beautiful red apples, oh the aroma, the titillating smell of pure fresh fruit. I was drawn to it, my mouth watering, my heart is racing. I picked one up, looked at it lovingly, brought it up to my mouth, kissed it, then opened my mouth, heard the crunch and I sink my teeth into it. Ohhh savour the taste, the pure delight, I chewed, a bite every second. Then I heard, “Andy!!!, you stay away dem apples you hear me!!” I jumped, looked down at my hand, there was not apple, they all sat in that basket, teasing me, begging me to eat them.  “Hark the herald angels singing” Mommy Charles was singing as he moved around in the kitchen. I looked at the apples, “Just you wait, you wait and you go see, I go take a big bite out ah one ah you,” I said to the apples and went into the living room and sat in front of the Christmas tree hypnotized by the blinking lights. 

Stories Storyteller

Window shopping a christmas tradition

One of our Christmas tradition when I was a kid was going window shopping. The sight of all the Christmas decorations in the windows of the store meant that Christmas was as around the corner. Oh the lights, the animation, the colours. I would press my face against the glass and lose myself in the fantasy of it all. The star at the top of the Christmas tree, the balloons hanging from the branches, the glittering ornaments, the soft melody of Carrols in the background. The streets were filled with other families window shopping, my mother would stop to talk to someone as we waited and jumped with excitement. Then the Pièce de résistance, the last stop on the sight seeing, an ice cream cone, oh the smooth taste of banana sprinkled with nuts, the cool trade winds sending a chill through my body. Oh yes, its Christmas time, I am ready for some real good Mommy Charles cooking.