Poetry Blogs (Jamaica)

I wasn't born in 1969

but when i hear the music i feel just fine
that infectious Jamaican brassy beat
with my docs on i start to move my feet
what is this music i hear you calling from afar?
that my friend is Bluebeat or two tone ska
the braces are on, am shaving my hair
working on that rudeboy stare
but tonight they be no fights 
as i'm out there jamming to the skatilites!

bob wasn'...

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He lights his cigarette, I prepare to share it,

just so his lungs could see less tar. 

He’s in a reflective mood; I can tell by the way
the flame emerged from his lighter
red and tenderly squirmed like a worm in a furnace.

He holds my gaze as the flame faints back in its tank
drags on the cigarette, slowly tilts his head back. 

I ever tell you the story about the mango?

He h...

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