Window Dressing

 

 

There is much window dressing

All year round:

In store windows and in Parliament-

By persons renown.

 

I recall going into Bridgetown

With my dad and my siblings

And viewing the Christmas showcases

And this was so exciting. 

 

It cost my dad nothing more

Than a pack of nuts and bus fare

And while we stared at the show window,

No police appeared.

 

 

 

If that went over your head

It means you are quite young,

I am talking about back in the 60’s decade

When you were not around.

 

We seldom got what we saw

But we anticipated the tour

Though as we got older and better off

We did it no more.

 

You see, it held no more appeal

As it did when we were kids

And so, when we became young adults,

Other things did.

 

However, I must confess

Window dressing has returned

Though it’s not the window dressing

For which I once yearned. 

 

It’s not the store windows

But behind Parliament walls

Where MPs paint wonderful pictures

That have us enthralled.

 

Pictures about projects

That never get off the ground

But year after year they get recycled

Like a merry-go-round.

 

Window dressing of the kind

To attract investment

Like the recent legislation to encourage

Free regional movement.

 

  

 

Our west coast and south coast

Are strewn with hotels

And the picture of these coasts shows

Our country is well.

 

 

 

But while seeing is believing

All that glitters is not gold

And all this window dressing is doing

Is creating debt untold.

 

Window dressing in the form

Of importing experts galore

But the myriad of perennial problems

Still vexing us sore.

 

Borrowing to window dress

To prop up foreign reserves

Making the country appear wealthy:

Apparent future preserved.

 

Yes, a healthy environment

But a people grossly sick

Forcing them that are disenfranchised

To be economically slick.

 

Reimagining and reinventing

Window dressing décor

But nothing’s really getting any better

For our indigent poor.

 

Other than window dressing

That smacks of welfarism

That only generates more and more

Social rheumatism. 

 

The facility to climb

The proverbial ladder of success

Appears to be targeting a select few

Leaving most in a mess.

 

 

 

The country of opportunity!

A great window dressing ad

But beyond the window dressing façade

Things are really bad.

 

A renown Prime Minister

Respected worldwide

But the Republic she presides over

Experiences a great divide.

 

Between the rich and the poor

There is mighty wide gap

And often the token assistance given

Is more like a slap.

 

 

Like the window dressing

Of that $300 amount

That in the blink of an eye disappeared

From the poor’s account.

 

Absolutely no trickle down

Reaches the vulnerably poor

While the window dressing politicians

Get more and more.

 

The MPs dress up the window

And invite the poor to look

But these recycled manifesto promises

Produce only a book.

 

 

 

A book for posterity

Given to the poor for free:

“A Window Dressing Guide for Politicians”

Added to a sparse library.

 

A world of window dressers

Politicians have become,

Showcasing their promises to all

But only benefitting some.

 

Yet they are convincing

And for them we vote

Lured by another window dressing:

A politician’s master stroke.

 

Stewart Russell © October 19, 2025

 

Fine Ants and Finance

 

 

Fine Ants and Finance

What have they in common?

Or, what have they in contrast

Lest we have forgotten?

 

Well, they sound alike

If only at first

But if pronounced properly.

This must be reversed.

 

One we could do without,

Of one we are in dire need,

They both cost us some trouble;

One very much indeed.

 

 

One befriends the poor

The other is of the rich,

One is needed to deal with one

According to the script.

 

One is often lagging

Especially for the poor

Who are frustrated with the other

Creating many a door.

 

 

So many spots of entry

Besides window and door,

And through the many crevices

Found in any floor.

 

Regarding fine ants,

Such a lack is appreciated

While re the other ‘sound alike’,

On more we are fixated.

 

A little more is the cry

For the wretched poor

While for the filthiest of the rich,

Just a billion more.

 

 

Much there is in contrast,

In common, not a lot,

But having a lot of one of them

Puts us in a good spot.

 

 

Not so with the other

And you know which one,

It’s the one we have the most of

That we wish was gone.

 

Stewart Russell © May 26, 2025

 

Parody of Freedom

 

 

A misrepresentation:

The freedom of the world,

It is a parody for certain

And pathetically absurd.

 

Highly prejudicial,

Like a pseudo freedom

Guaranteed to the powerful

But to the weak, seldom.

 

A parody of sorts

A misrepresentation,

Worldly freedom really and truly

Is a domination.

 

Domination of the weak

By the very strong

And oppression of the poor

All day long.

 

 

A selective freedom

That’s clearly not for all

And the law supposedly in support,

Deliberately stalled.

 

Justice delayed

And very often denied,

And the freedom of the weak

Brushed aside.

 

A pseudo freedom

That is no freedom at all,

This dollars-and-cents freedom

I absolutely appall.

 

 

A parody of justice

Certainly, for the poor,

The law might be in their favour

But can they afford…

 

The price of a lawyer

To fight their case

So that that which they spend

Do not go to waste?

 

 

What good is freedom

If it is out of reach

And the law seems powerless

To mend the breach?

 

Out of poor man’s reach

Accessible to the rich

And of course, to them skilled

In deviant politics…

 

Where money talks

And power overwhelms

And from corrupt leadership

All evil stems.

 

Where God is omitted

And the moral code

Has been drastically changed

From that of old.

 

 

Freedom for the rich

Freedom for the powerful

But a parody, I must reiterate,

For the vulnerable.

 

A misrepresentation

When it comes to the poor

And for the most vulnerable

It is a closed door.

 

Still enslaved

With no cash in hand

At least not enough to purchase

Freedom on demand.

 

Stewart Russell © February 20, 2025

 

Lengthening of Days

 

Perhaps it’s just me

And maybe it is not you

But this lengthening of days

Has become my view.

 

You may be wondering

What I am talking about

But I will tell you in a minute,

No need to shout.

 

Now, I am a pensioner

But you probably know,

For given how I am looking

It must really show.

 

The shortening of days

You will find in the Word,

It’s really Matthew and Mark

To which I refer.

 

In Matthew 24 verse 22

And Mark 13 verse 20,

The shortening of days is implied

In a prophecy.

 

Whether this be the day

Or the period of time,

This is not what is currently

Occupying my mind.

 

Instead, I reiterate,

It’s the lengthening of days

Since the days seem much longer

When nearing paydays.

 

I live pretty much

From paycheck to paycheck,

Sorry, it’s pension check I mean,

Please check.

 

From the 20th each month

There is a daily grind

In which anticipating pension day

Is on my mind.

Take this April:

That’s been the longest yet,

And I will have to wait till Monday,

You could bet.

 

So, you see what I mean

By the lengthening of days?

It’s very unlike Jesus’ prophecy

In a number of ways.

 

The days do drag along

Just before pension day

And for the last fourteen years

This has been the way.

 

Not with rich people,

Of course not!

But if you are poor like I am,

This is your lot.

 

Please note below

Re information coming to hand,

I received a huge surprise

Which is quite grand?

 

I had written on the 24th

But I got lucky this time,

I woke and checked on the 25th;

My pension is on line.

 

Stewart Russell © April 24, 2025

 

Oh Wow!

 

 

How this year has flown!

Three quarters now complete

And into the third we go

Even as we speak.

 

October is now upon us,

It’s crept up almost unnoticed

And most of our elaborate plans

Must now be dismissed.

 

Definitely so for me

As these days I’m a little slow,

Not that young anymore

With little get up and go.

 

Often can’t be bothered

Or the funds won’t stretch,

I am living off a pension now

And still in debt.

 

Debt to certain companies

Like BWA and BLPC,

And there is Digicel and FLOW

Plus a few luxuries.

 

There is procrastination:

That perennial thief of time

Where several things to be done

Gets done only in my mind.

 

Good intentions, of course,

Never gets anything done

But these days I prefer to walk

Since it is difficult to run.

 

 

Oh Wow!  How time flies

And how this year has flown!

And finances previously sound

Are now down to the bone.

 

Into the Christmas quarter,

Oh, how I love this time,

The money is not like it used to be

But I am feeling quite fine.

 

October, it’s all over!

That’s what it used to be,

But storms have still knocked us

In recent history.

 

It’s been a mix year so far

Already three quarters in

And many smiles have been replaced

By the expected grin.

 

Growth has taken place

But little development I see,

Fortune is still favouring the rich

And the poor, poverty.

 

Much talk about nothing

Deflecting the real issues:

The ploy of double-speak leaders

Making us more confused.

 

 

The guns are coming in

But so too is the tint

Complicating the problem bigtime,

Making citizens flinch.

 

If only we could see

The driver behind that wheel

The solution to the gun crimes

Would be a done deal.

 

Something tells me though,

The faces are well known

But the swiftness deceives the eye

Just like the year has flown.

 

I end just as I began

Re how this year has flown,

And I pray that the authorities act

On what I believe is known.

 

 

 

It’s a wow moment

And so, I say, “Oh wow!”

Leaders, stop the lot of long talk

And get to the source now!

 

Stewart Russell © September 28, 2024

 

What A Travesty!

 

 

The poor get poorer

And it appears so by design

While the rich become richer

Via white collar crime.

 

They live on the hog!

Oh, they live very well

And this is economic prudence

I hear some tell.

 

It requires very little

To pay political technocrats

Compared to the public servants

And this is the fact.

 

Back breaking work

In the hot broiling sun

And those in air condition offices

Having fun.

 

Those at the top

Are paid handsome salaries

Since to pay those at the bottom

Is harsher on the treasury.

 

 

It is easier it seems

To pay the experts a lot

While a few crumbs must satisfy

Those at the lowest spot.

 

The top rungs complain

Their salary is not enough,

That given their expected lifestyle

They are finding it tough.

 

Pretending to work hard

But hardly working

And drawing wads of dollars

For basically shirking.

 

It is far fewer of them

So, they should be given more

Compared to that broad base

That we call the poor.

 

 

No principle, I say,

And what a travesty

That those on the topmost rungs

Can rape the treasury!

 

After all, it is clear

That they call the shots

Determining their high salaries

And those of the poor lot.

 

Yes, a mere pittance

Is accorded the poor

With the oft repeated promise

Someday they’ll get more.

 

None to fight their cause?

None who understand?

What a travesty, I must say!

What a horrible plan!

 

Stewart Russell © February 15, 2024

 

Boxing Day

 

 

The rich have had their day

Today is for the poor,

Boxing Day is not about boxing-

Need I say more?

 

It was a day for servants

That worked all day Christmas,

These were in the employ

Of the rich and the famous.

 

Boxing Day could be said

To be poor people’s Christmas

Since on this particular day

They could have their fuss.

 

Gifts collected were boxed

And distributed to the poor

And these could enjoy themselves

Away from their usual chores.

 

So, today as you can see

Is really Christmas Day for me,

I should get my chance to celebrate

And have a Christmas spree.

 

Numbered among the poor

I eagerly anticipate my box,

You had your Christmas yesterday

But today I am taking the lot.

 

 

Cast off toys for the children

And a portion of your leftovers,

It would be really good, if you please,

To put in that ham shoulder.

 

That one from Christmas day

That was barely touched,

For my small household of eleven,

That’s not asking too much.

 

I will be back tomorrow

To do anything that you ask

But today that we call Boxing Day,

I’ll be away from such tasks.

 

Boxing Day was Christmas

But not for the rich and famous,

It was more for the lower classes

So they too could have a fuss.

 

 

Not so that first Christmas!

Those shepherds left their sheep

And they journeyed to Bethlehem

Where they found Jesus asleep.

 

The rich had no such privilege,

Theirs was two years later

Compared to the lowly shepherds

That saw him in a manger.

 

On that first Christmas morn

No, not on the Boxing Day,

The shepherds before the magi

Found Jesus who is the way.

 

 

That gift so crudely packaged

And distributed to the world

Was none other than the Saviour:

The eternal Living Word.

 

 

For he that was dead

Is alive and lives forevermore

And makes no distinction ever since

Between the rich and the poor.

 

For any that will come to him

Must first believe that he exists,

Just come to him in childlike trust

And in his cause enlist.

 

Then go and tell the world

Be it Christmas Day or Boxing Day,

Jesus is the reason for the season,

He is the only way!

 

Stewart Russell © December 26, 2023