WINNING POEMS : AGE 12-19 CATEGORY

MOST OUTSTANDING YOUNG POET : RAPHAEL WOODING

ZEPHYRS OF DRYAD WINGS

All is still; so calm, so peaceful,

Under the cover of such a fable,

That all should be hidden

In softness and warmth of glossy feathers; elegant,

Preened by hands so gentle, and opening slowly,

Uniform with a leafy rustle,

Revealing architecture of mystic rustic forest,

Fiery orange in sunlit glory.


One is never to stray from angelic strides here,

Where hands are taken into grasp

And embrace is felt with rippling windy rumbles

Which accompany outspread wings

To skies of artistic splendor.


The rushing of the air; excitement to the senses,

And breaths so short and hollow

With eyes kaleidoscopic with enjoyment

That view floral pastures fading to a forested horizon; darkening,

Contrasting the dying sun's regress to twilight,

Blurred is all else but the wings of lovely gliding stillness,

Outwardly to hinder skyward view.

Adrenalin!

The cure to brighten weary eyes to love and hope,

Till slowing to the glade of evergreen,

Which marks peaceful decent to rustling leaves below,

And evening skylight coming to dimming end

Through a canopy of beechen green.

Here shall we rest till morn'

The stillness is the surreal essence of serenity,

The warmth of textured wings;

A blanket to the cold, a comfort to restless darkness.

Copyright © 2008 by Raphael Wooding




POET OF MERIT : SHIVANI BHAGALOO

SOMETHING BLUE


I had it all for that special day :

Something old,

Something new,

Something borrowed,

Something blue.


Something old-

The yards of white silk that hugged me,

Had once hugged my mother similarly,

The cloth flowed and flowed like a river downstream,

And created quite a picturesque scene.


Something new-

The glass slippers on my feet,

Was something I had always dreamed of,

As perfect a princess as perfect could be,

And a happily ever after.


Something borrowed-

A magnificent piece that could not hide,

Made with precious metals and stones,

It rested gently among my curls,

And completed the picture of the perfect bride.


I looked at myself reflected in the glass,

A breathtaking beauty! A work of art!

That could surely capture

Any heart.


But wait...

Something was missing...


Something blue-

I stared at me,

As the tears began to flow,

"Why am I even standing here," I thought miserably,

"This is not where I wanted my life to go!"


I felt a kick down below,

And I just let the tears flow,

There was something alive, in me, inside

That thing that had just ruined my life.


Now there was no choice left for me,

'cause what would people think

If I had the baby all alone

Without acting responsibly?


Some advice to young people,

Is to listen well and listen more,

Because consequences do in fact exist,

And they're more dangerous than ever before.


'One night of pleasure,

And now a lifetime of pain',

Is exactly what I have to endure.

It's not just a stupid cliche.


Listen and obey the people who care,

Because they're the ones that are always there

To help you up when you fall down,

And turn every frown upside down.


Learn from my mistakes,

It's now my job to tell you

That on your wedding day,

You shouldn't be feeling blue.

Copyright © 2008 by Shivani Bhagaloo



3RD PLACE WINNER : MARESA J. MCDOWELL

ANOTHER YUTE-MAN FALLS


Tic toc Tic toc
Pow Boom Bang Pow Pow
Screeching, Speeding, Peeping, Weeping
Another Yute-man falls

Avenge, Revenge,
Must end
No end
Tic toc tic toc
Slish, slash, Wattap, lash
Running, Ducking, Slipping, Dripping
Another Yute-man falls

Funeral homes making ah living
From all this set of senseless killing
Weeping, Whaling Crying, No Jailing
Another Yute-man falls

Father’s Day becomes ah pain,
Small-man’s happiness it now stains,
Daughters wearing the late Yute-man’s gold chain,
Mama takes it, sells it to buy crack cocaine.
Fearing, Swearing... No one caring
Tic toc tic toc
Another Yute-man falls

Mama got no money in d bank,
Need to find another yute-man high up in the rank.
That blood money will take care of her need,
And her six children it will feed.
Daughter gets raped by d new yute-man’s greed,
Mama can’t care, small man sees his lil sis bleed.
Makes him wanna kill, Contemplates selling weed,
Decides he’s gonna be the one to take care of the family’s need.
Praying, Wishing, Asking God Why?
Why? And when will this new yute man die?

Mama gotta another baby so it’s now seven,
She weeps and pray dat the father is in heaven.
Small man feels he’s ah big man now cuz he bringing in the cash,
Selling herbs, makin ah paper, he hav ah mighty stash.
Vows no one will EVER touch his family again, so he gets himself ah gun,
Joining d endless battle cuz war is never done.
Lil bro looks up to Small man..wanna be ah big man too,
Joins the war to provide, wanna rock ah brand name shoe.
Tic toc tic toc
Another yute-man falls

Small man must avenge his lil brother’s death,
Kill another Yute-man, His family under threat.
Promises his mama he gonna fix d scene,
Promises his sisters he gonna wipe the killers out clean.
Tic toc tic toc
Gun shots, heart stops
Another Yute-man falls

Small man avenges his bro and got himself ah honey,
Nine months later makes his mom ah gran-mommy.
Never saw his baby boy, never even felt him kick while in the tummy,
Killed by another avenger, sprawled on the street like ah dummy
Sisters get them-selves ah yute-man cuz they can’t rely on mummy,
Everybody joins the cycle wondering why life so crummy.

Another father-less small man
Another heart- broken lover
Another sibling disenchanted
Another weeping mother
Tic toc tic toc
Time is running out
Listen to the people, weep, bawl, cry and shout.
Need divine intervention,
Need a Deliverer to respond to the call.
So maybe….. jus maybe,
This time another Yute-man won’t fall.

© 21/10/08 by Maresa J. McDowell



4th PLACE WINNER : KERRI - ANN O. LEWIS

SHED BLOOD, BLOODSHED

Bleed little heart, bleed
You always were a fragile thing
And unsure of yourself
Switching from love to
Self hate
And all in between.
Perhaps.
But you got lost somewhere in this jungle of emotion
Briers and
Not surprisingly
Human things
Pierced you
How you managed to stay beating
Only you know that
I haven't figured it out yet
It makes my head hurt when I try
Making sense of you Little Heart
"When You Were Young"
Betrayed before knowing that you trusted
Too fast
And this rhythm got out of control
No more graceful movements
Caress?
Wat iz dat!
Run!
Run for your life
And mine
Little heart
Run from knowing who you are
And never knowing who you were
And from simply not being
Run from
Time running away from you
Run to the pause...
Catch a breathe
Are you breathing little heart?
Or just bleeding?
Tears fled the day you realised that it was getting to be all too much
Take your father
An apt example
An' lose all love
Lose all grief for things that have been
An' make yourself happy
Or at least
Run from unhappiness
But the world is small so where yuh goin Little Heart?
Stop crying
Create in you the matriarchal mother telling her son that feeling is weakness
Turn pain to anger
Suppress
Till you collapse
Inside out
And your teachers don't know what's wrong with you
Your mother don't know what wrong with you
Your father don't care,
Wat wrong wit you at all!
Your friends can do nothing for you
(They themselves need a Samaritan)
And you need to figure it out.
Suppressing is procrastinating after all
Take licks like a man
Take cuss like a man
Take
Take
Take
TAKE evryting!!!
All things pass silently under a man's strength.
DAT, iz power!
...
Ent?
Too long left in isolation
You tore the walls down
Or did they?
Dance naked in the rain
I've lost my senses
So much joy i feel
Wet and dripping,
Delirious.
So much joy!
Dirty and dripping,
Drain water.
Dripping
Dripping
Clean
Brown
Earth.
Green
Brown
Earth.
And drain water.
Till reservoirs buss open
All currents led to you
Bank break
My time now
Time for my desires not yours
Break loose
Break up
Break down
And cry
Crumple up like brown paper bag
And shiver
Shattered
You will never know yourself.
Bleed tears
Those loved
Bleed
You cannot love...
And be loved in return
Bleed
You know not love
Bleed
Inexperience:
What is love?
Bleed
Love equals betrayal
Bleed
"Rend your heart not your garment"
Bleed
Virginity lost
Bleed
Every month
Blood
Never stops
Bleeding
She was born in blood like you
Bleed
Faith
Bleed
Truth.
When will I start healing?
Too much blood is being lost...
Run
Little heart
Run dry.

Copyright ©2008 by Kerri-ann O . Lewis



5Th PLACE WINNER : JABARI LYNCH
Listing thoughts or pilgrimage to P.O.S (mecca)

The pert twang of mango-chow,
the wish of a marble in a game of pitch,
the skirt-tucking of the jump-rope,
the necklace made out of the beads of sweat in a game of catch,
the snatch and licke of coconut tree cricket bat to that red eyed planet for
the snarl of a grazed knee howling repentance,
the sticky aftermath of a coooooool sno-cone on a hot school day.


This is Trinidad singing
sweet sweet sweet
This is Trinidad limbo pulsing cane pelting
cocoa dancing flinging grammeshelle fig eating
sweet sweet sweet
in the faith of our older heads
their bawl of sweet sweet sweet
were long ago days.



I proclaim Trinidad
I proclaim Tobago
but dah doh mean
I cyah proclaim the over-flowing waters
in de drain left for the youth tomorrow.
I say mud sticking to my over-alls
I say humming birds singing fast
I say free education for all
I say bullets whizzing past my grey
matter of fact I say vote PNM . bh doh vote PNM
bh . vote PNM If ya could understand what I say . in
here . now . cause ah fraid somebody
kick down de door take de mike or meh pen
and I cyah say for the next two weeks
if ya understand wa ah say .
Ya understand wa ah say??



The Pangs of the Steel Drum,
the coagulating stained abeer streets of Phagwa,
the darkening clouds of the moko-jumbie walk . stilting,
the braggadocio of shifting hips,
the gnarled bite marks of our holy places,
the glitter of commercialism,
the rust of mental chains sifting.



This is Trinbago shivering
sweet sweet sweet
This is that Paid Advertisement blaring
sweet sweet swee
tin the faith of our variegated jeans pants
and Nike shoes teleprompting
Sweet Sweet Sweet
were the old school days . so buy old school clothes yo!!



I scrawl through Port-Of-Spain road-sides
with my hand pressed hard against my hip
bone and eyes sharp like three canal
observing my people, my land.
Deep black fingers ague my optic
centre . black men proud turned beggah
rancid clothes hang . kinky hair stiff . shame .
Pass by RBTT in Town dey
and all de wall hang black graffiti,
morose mosaics and shattered mourn.ah lisas
humanoid figures void of life
a(cry)lic oil . their art-works are still-lifes
and their exhibition adjacent slabs of stone
and street flour cooking between a rock and a hard space
no space for lungs to expand to full potential
bh we have tall buildings to juk out de sky eye
so no worries rite??



Nicho . las court .
Nicho . las Tower .
nico . tine but(t)s .butting our dialectic sentences
full . stopping our pre.positions
I stand here in the shade of blotted out colloquial sun
What Nicholas' Tower stands erect for
turns my bamboo shoots into light poles
my grass into concrete
my black men into vague . rant.ings
my value measured by handfuls of Euroes
cause de Green backs aint as Hulking as they used to be.



The Bandana Bandit armed to the teeth .
his fingers raspy stabbers like midnight . robbers
The corrupt politician's satin smile . smooth
The Blue Devil splash paint on our lips . giggling mischief
The Zen Neo-colonialist Euro-Americana boogey-down culture lap-dancing
Brand-named hairs turn into string, turn into rope, that lassoed us and branded us 3rd world, turn into shadows turn into shrouds of Turin into clothes turn into clouds floating
The PM cha-cha-cha-chanting: "New World Economic Order."
"New World Economic Order."
"New World Economic Order."
New .World . Economic . Order .
The Black vagrant wearing a PNM t-shirt . black and smiling teeth.missing



The P.N.M., the U.N.C. and the P.E.O.P.L.E. (the people)
are to blame for this
we wine and jam and grind
when oil money wastin'
then turn for soot crosses.
We lime, and party
who running de country??
We buy and buy and buy everything with credit
who will eventually pay??
We repent of our repentances
We dance in the rain
while neat and slender, well manicured hands
sell our souls away.
We flaunt our oiled thighs
and our Carnival costumes covering nothing
while french descendants bokie
our fingers for money every February
They make money off of our lust.
lost . lucre seem to forever spill-over
but one day de well go mus' run dry.

Retailers jack-up prices belly-fulling . consumers belly-up
Inflation inflating like a bloated dead dog
Food prices rising when it really should be dropping
C.E.P.E.P., top in mud spinning
Kick-down radio station door BOOM.ing . hu say Freedom of Speech??
Pick up sticks of a crumbling world economy
The crime, hurricane and earthquake levels rising unprecedenting.

What really going on??
What really happening in our country??

Now dont get me wrong eh
I am trini to de marrow
Trini since ah born
and when my physical body descends
to de deep my open chest will reveal
a still-beating red, black and white heart
But that doh mean ah cyah tell de truth ent?? .

See trini :
See trini : run
See trini : run for every vain ting
See trini : dance for flecks of gold
See trini : juggle with sin
See trini : buss our pockets every Christmas
See trini : have great God-given potential to improve
our position bh we cyah do dat at de Zen, we cyah bring progress
by being mash up after J'Ouvert, we cyah do dat being drunk on Punchin'
and fat with Pork, we is trini, we survive, we thrive, we like salt, we
live, we breathe fire, seem to die bh den we bounce to life . not because
God is a trini bh because God is wid we . we evoke his being everytime we
proclaim our nationality:

I proclaim Trinidad
I proclaim Tobago
and de only way there will be a better day
for our youth tommorrow is to proclaim God
and den we can return to de good ole days without
having to go back there
because progression doesnt have to mean going forward
it can mean using old methods that work.

A Benay Ball reluctant to give up its black sweetness
We embrace our culture . nt pasa pasa
Politicians helping the people to help themselves
Red Julie Mango juice haphazardly swirling down chin resting in the reservoirs of our spirits
Tobago love . hurtin' and feelin' rel good
Monarch butterfly dance pique round our poetry stroking calabash works of thou (art) beautiful God smiling on his people and we grow from the rays like royal.palm

Listen:
This is Trinidad crying tears of joy
sweet sweet sweet
This is the people repenting
bruising-knee mashing hands clasping
sweet sweet sweet
in the faith of our younger heads
who through our deeds
will sing odes to God
at our community stand-pipes
bursting prosperity and wet claims on life
bawlin' sweet sweet sweet
are these God-given days.

Copyright © 2008 by Jabari Lynch