Categories
Storyteller

25th Installment of La Diablesse Sunday

25th Installment of La Diablesse Sunday

Ahh yes how is Ian’s life going now, did he get rid of the La diablesse, has the riots and protest changed his way of thinking?

Categories
Storyteller

23th Installment of La Diablesse This Sunday

23th Installment of La Diablesse This Sunday

Well, it looks like more confusion for Ian, political unrest is gripping the island, now he has to taker care of his students. He can only hope that the La Disblesse stays away, keep her cursed ways away from him, he has more pressing matters to attend to at this time. Tune in to see how Ian deals with the changing world around him.

Categories
Storyteller

Lucas Street

Lucal Street

Ahhhh my old stomping ground, you see where the pink is painted on that building to the left, yeah, right there, the one with the yellow above the pink and the cream above the yellow, yes, that’s it, well that is where I used to live. It was from that window I sat and watch the riots in the 1970s, the tear gas, the secret police rushing the crowds with their cutlasses. It is from that window I would look out at 4 pm everyday to see Mommy Charles coming home from a hard days work in the Ministry of Finance., yep Mommy Charles worked for the Government, Look, I see they have street lights now, I guess they don’t need the policeman signaling traffic. Ohhh yes, the old stomping grounds, good old Lucas Street.

Categories
POEMS Storyteller

After Interrogation (1983)

Hey my friend, I understand why we close our eyes

Our ears and our mouths

We are being fed so much bullshit

We should wear bibs to protect ourselves

But there are so many doctrines

From so many parts of the world

That bib would be like toilet paper

Because the bullshit would seep through

To our hearts and we freefall into the abyss of ethnocentrism

And flutter around like a humming bird

Who mistook plastic flowers for real ones?

 

Categories
POEMS Storyteller

Day of the riots (Writter 1976 Grenada riots)

I stand on the edge of nowhere

A place where civilization and common sense part ways

I hear a baby cry and I wanted to go to her

But my legs refuse to move

A woman moans in pain next to me

But I don’t turn around for fear she might need me

Grown men on their hands and knees

Waiting for me to help yet still I don’t move

An old lady walks up to me

“Are you ok Sonny” she asks

My name is Andy I swim through the clouds and always come out on the other side

“Are you going to help them?”

My name is Andy I take care of the world

But I can’t help asking, who is going to take care of me.