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POEMS Storyteller

Going

Time goes by
Sometimes its like walking on a silver road of stars
Sailing on an ocean of dark green seaweeds
Dancing on the surface of a lake bare feet in he middle of winter
Crying sunbeams for the joy of love
Being caught between a lightening bolt and a rainbow
Because the first fifty is the living years
And the last fifty is the dying years
That’s when time goes in bursts of speed and other times slows down to excruciating reality. All that can be done is to wait.
Wait for the ocean to part so you can walk towards the sun.

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Storyteller

This Kentucky Morning

These Kentucky mornings, right after the freeze of winter have kissed away the frigid mornings, right before spring whistles in the temperate winds across the Appalachian mountains. Mornings when the mist attempts to hide the trees that hibernate in the open winter air. Dark brown branches eagerly waiting for mother nature to give the order to spring lush green leaves. And then not even this fog can hide summer’s bloom.

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Pics with verse Storyteller

Frozen Chocolate

Welcome to the frozen tundra, where mother nature have not sympathy for the tropical transplants. Sixteen degrees of pure skin numbing wind, slipping and sliding. So cold one can walk on water. My only escape is in my head, letting my imagination run away with meGrand Anse Beach

Ahhh I can feel the warmth. Sometimes letting one’s imagination run a marathon is the best medicine.

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Pics with verse Storyteller

Dive In

Ahhh yeah man, jump in dey nah, let de ocean hug yuh like a lover on one ah dem frigid winter days. Like sipping  some cocoa tea in front a wood burning fyah. Standing in front of a fyah pit wid a cold drink in yuh hand. Sitting on yuh porch on a warm summer day. Drinking hot tea and feeling its warmth course through yuh. Standing in yuh kitchen while baking home made bread. Yeah man, dive in, even if it is in yuh imagination and ting.

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Storyteller

Impending Winter

As the mornings get cooler, and you can feel the first bite of pending winter, I refuse to let my summer go, ahhh the sun on my skin, the almost yellow world as sunrays reflect off the earth. Butterflies and birds flying around. Music from cars going by with their tops dropped. Mountain streams meandering, work on the feet as you walk through it. Blooming flowers across the fields. People fishing on river banks, or lakes. Ahhh yes, my endless summer will live in my heard through the silver grey winter.

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Storyteller Storyteller's Videos

Snow for so

An open invitation to my brother on the sunny island, think he will take me up on it ha ha ha ha.

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Stories Storyteller

Freezing my Tropical Butt off

I live in West Virginia, a small town called Huntington. The Ohio river runs alongside the town.¬† I can walk across a bridge and be in Ohio in tem minutes and a short fifteen minute drive and I will be in Kentucky. For me this is living in the mountains. There were not mountains this big on Grenada. It does not usually get this cold here but lately it have been unbearable, to tell you the truth this “tropical boi” is ready to go back to the ocean. No more frozen fingers, no more frozen toes, no more looking like I am smoking when I blow out of my mouth. No more ears stinging from the cold wind. Welcome, sunshine, shorts yea round ahhhh I feel warm just thinking about it, but here I go to the store now, the cold wind will slap me in the face like an angry drunk.

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Pics with verse Storyteller

Days like this

Days like this

On days like this, it would be nice to have a hot cup of tea, with a twist of lime and a warm coconut bun with raisins and a touch of rum in it

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Storyteller

Before the parade

That moment, right before the band strikes up, and the dance team begins to twirl their canes, and the police bikes roars their engines, and the fire trucks blasts their sirens, and the kids on floats throws candy into the crowd. There is organized confusion.

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Storyteller Storyteller's Videos

Feeling hot hot hot

Tropical buoy inna snow covered street