It wasn’t your fault
that when you were three
bullets fell like rain
and blood ran down the road
flooding streets with pain
of a war nobody wanted
Keep moving
It wasn’t your fault
that when you were three
bullets fell like rain
and blood ran down the road
flooding streets with pain
of a war nobody wanted
Keep moving
The Border Line (World Refugee Day) The problem is with the seeing. If you never see their pain You’d never feel it Wrap around your heart, Quickening it’s beat. Squeezing you to act. The problem is with the hearing. If you never hear the sounds of deep despair you’ll never know it, deep within your…
One of my least favourite things in all the world is Kingston traffic, Kingston traffic heading through crossroads at 5pm. Petrol fumes and burning oil hang on hot, humid air. Cars, buses and pedestrians flooding frustration, pushing, pressing through non-existent lines. Revving engines roar and rage, horns beat out of time to the hollering song…
I decided to post something a little different this month; A little work of fiction, with a hint perhaps of non fiction… ‘People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed and redeemed; never throw out anyone.’ …
My mother takes a thousand photos, many of them unremarkable as art. But art is not, I am pretty sure, why she does it. She does it because she is attempting to hold a memory, to make a moment stay longer than it otherwise would. This I fully understand. And how I have longed to…
I pulled the car out of the white-water rush of traffic, parked and jumped out. I was in search of last minute potatoes in the middle of down town Kingston rush hour. Traffic fumes assaulted the senses at every turn, traffic noise beat at ear drums, a cacophony of chaos. The small street stall had…
Laughter fills the air in our kids club birthday celebrations, laughter, shouting, energetic glee, all seasoned with a pinch of mayhem and a cup full of chaos. Every child gets cake, every birthday-child gets a gift, and every leader get exhausted. It was just after one of these crazy birthday programmes that Kelecia (one of…
“We run the place yu know” said the gunman, casually revealing his semi-automatic weapon. The midnight air (pregnant with tension and the smell of weed) wrapped darkness around both he and my husband on the deserted road leading down into Majesty Gardens. David drew a breath, “Actually, God runs the place” he said calmly, his…
Seconds, minutes, hours, days… all wound up in moments of time. Thousands of these moments thread through our lives, entering and leaving, unremarkable, unnoticed, and later unremembered. But not all moments are lost in this way, some moments etch themselves into minds forever, carving themselves into the walls of our consciousness, returning again and again,…
He stood on the edge of East Road, in Trench Town, Kingston, Jamaica, scanning the plot of land before him, his mind was in another place, a place of big plans, high hopes and higher ideals. Barely out of adolescence, he had returned to Jamaica with a vision; Basketball. To use this sport as a…
A single moment passes so quickly, yet can change a life forever. I was in the back seat of our family car. I watched the world from here a lot in my early years. I used to love long car rides, the passing scenery mingling with my day-dreams, the open Australian sky, presiding over cities,…