Moored to Oneself

 

 

To what are we moored

In this pluralistic time

Where everything seems relative

And jelly is spine?

 

No difference, it seems,

Between sand and rock

And one can pass for the other

Like dress and frock.

 

Nothing is steadfast

And we just float around,

Same difference, some would say,

Whether up or down.

 

To each his own reality-

That’s how he sees it,

No reference point or benchmark

Informs his habit.

 

Moored to myself

Makes me feel free

And it really does not matter

If I drift aimlessly.

 

No beginning, no end,

All one continuous bend

Riding the world’s merry-go-round,

World without end.

 

No reference-point

Nothing by which to gauge,

The entire world is just a stage

And I am its sage.

 

It’s me and me alone

Accountable to only me,

And my truth is as good as anyone’s

So, set me free.

 

 

 

Nothing is absolute!

Bear this in your mind,

One man’s freedom, my friend,

Is another’s bind.

 

It’s nothing topsy-turvy

If it works for me,

I am the centre of the universe,

And I am free.

 

My beauty is my beauty,

My truth is my truth,

Thus, my values are my values

And I am my proof.

 

My reason to be here

Is my own purpose,

It has nothing to do with anyone

Hence, it is just.

 

The survival of the fittest?

Call it what you may,

This means of all there is, I succeed

While all beside me fail.

 

 

 

I am moored to me:

Distinctly myself and I

And don’t you dare try to change me;

Don’t even try.

 

And so, I present to you

The world’s dilemma,

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder

And each book its cover.

 

Thus, all things of beauty

But no distinctive beauty,

No benchmark by which a judge

Can perform his duty.

 

Many varying values

But no moral plumb line,

Morality and immorality are the same

Together combined.

 

 

 

A myriad of truths:

Yours and mine and theirs

But no truth by which to measure

What is just and fair. 

 

Different purposes

But no defining purpose

That rightly informs all of humanity

On his return to the dust.

 

From dust created He us

To dust we will return

And the sooner we understand this

The more we will learn.

 

God is the only absolute

By which all can be measured

And to ignore His divine blueprint

Is to miss life’s treasure.

 

Truth is at the top

Forming value and beauty,

Out of these emerges our purpose

That informs our duty.

 

 

 

Moored to the Rock

Though adaptive to change,

For to be moored to oneself

Is to be deranged.

 

Stewart Russell © September 17, 2025

 

Valentine Downplayed?

  

 

 

Was it me

Or was it true

A downplayed Valentine

Was in view?

 

A lot of red

But not of Cupid,

A campaign was going

For a 3-peat bid.

 

 

 

Love of party

And of Mia Amor

And re that sea of red

Above she soared.

 

Maybe today

With results finalized

The fact of Valentine

Will be realized.

 

I imagined it?

Maybe probably so

After all, quite a lot of red

Was on show.

 

A gift of 30 seats:

Mia’s Valentine gift

And to the Botanical Gardens

Many will drift.

 

‘Twill be a sea of red

Over that place

And the Valentine photo

Will be Mia’s face.

 

 

 

The triumphant red

Over yellow and green

Will be readily on display

With their queen.

 

Congrats to the BLP

And to Mia on her 3-peat,

No room for the others;

Not a single seat.

 

Spare a thought

For Valentine Day,

Don’t let the party of red have it

All their way.

 

 

 

Combine the two

As you celebrate,

Remember it’s a love date

And don’t hate.

 

 

 

For we are all one

Bajan born and bred

And all colours are significant

But today, it’s red.

 

And let’s hope

Out of it will come good

For the nation and its people

As it should.

 

Happy Valentine

To all of you!

To the BLP, DLP, FOD, et al,

Keep love in view. 

 

Stewart Russell © February 14, 2026

 

Apathy Wins

  

 

Stop wunna boasting

And look at who en voting,

One hundred and eighty-seven thousand

And still counting.

 

More than two-thirds

By a simple calculation,

Even Mia could not bring them out

Is my summation.

 

Last time out

Was the lowest poll ever,

To tell me that this time would be so low

I would say never. 

 

  

 

A staggering statistic

Regarding this one

And I dare say it would have been so

Regardless of who won.

 

Eighty-three thousand

Is the electorate that voted,

It’s just a new national consciousness

Someone quoted.

 

‘Tis nothing to celebrate,

Madam PM, take note,

For when apathy wins, we all lose,

That is my quote.

 

Even as the Bs celebrate

We ought to cogitate

On the ramifications of this statistic

For our beloved state.

 

 

 

Just 30.8 percent

Has got to be a protest,

Meaning the BLP got out their base

But not the rest.

 

Rather than vote BLP

They decided not to vote,

Meaning that the winning BLP party

Must also take note.

 

 

 

For the second time

The Apathy Party has won:

The first time in the 2022 snap election

And again, in this one.

 

Only once prior to ’22,

Was a poll less than 60%

But these two recent snap elections

Show a certain bent.

 

It is interesting to note

The poll of 1994

When the Erskine Sandiford DLP

Was shown the door.

 

A “no confidence” motion

Brought by Owen Arthur

Succeeded on the floor of Parliament

And the D's struggled ever after.

 

That three-year term

Occasioned a snap election

And was one of three 60% turn-outs

Going back to the ’56 election.

 

The highest election polls

Came in successive elections:

The first in our year of Independence

And in the 1971 elections.

 

Both were Barrow wins

In the upper 70s and 80s,

79.7% in the year of Independence

Full of expectancy.

 

 

 

Independence was granted

Just the February before,

Thus, Barrow became a national hero

For this and more.

 

In '71 was the highest

With a whopping 80.63 %,

That the vote was a powerful means,

Drove the Bajan intent. 

 

But now gone from us

Are those civic conscious days

When a complete parliamentary term

Comprised five years.

  

Now we have elections

Long before that time

And this strategy puts other parties

In a serious bind.

 

Mia is very clever,

A shrewd strategist is she

And it’s time she uses her clever mind

To curb this apathy.

 

  

 

Apathy Party has won

These last two elections,

So, the buck now stops at PM Mottley:

Leader of our Nation.

 

The worst of it all,

None will enter parliament

And unless someone crosses again,

There’s none to represent.

 

No opposition in Parliament

Hampers true democracy

And I must remind my Bajan family,

This is a travesty.

 

 

 

Apathy has won again

And in effect we have lost,

So, all we can do now is wait and see

What will be the cost.

 

Stewart Russell © February 12, 2026

 

Today Is Polling Day

  

 

Today is polling day,

The rhetoric is over

And the campaigning is done.

Each candidate strove

And fought tooth and nail

And their race has run.

 

Now it’s the electorate

That will now speak

As by their vote they will decide.

It’s a powerful moment

And it is left to see

How flow the ripping tide.

 

The outcome is critical

To every one of us

As we wait with bated breath.

Hence, the thrill of victory

And the agony of defeat

Invariably will attest.

 

 

 

One way or another

We must move ahead

As we steer this ship of state.

For whatever the tide

Be it in stormy gale

We must face whatever fate.

 

May democracy win

And the vote reflect such

Whether for Mottley or Thorne.

And let it be known

While party lines separate

We are mostly Bajan born.

 

So, perform your duty

Those so disposed

And do so in peace and in love.

For in the final analysis

An account is required

Before the One above.

 

Stewart Russell © February 11, 2026

 

Mekkin’ Mock Sport at We

  

 

Calling general elections

Whenever they please

With very little time to campaign

As though a tease.

 

The Opposition obviously

Trying to keep up

But with little time to work with

Becoming stuck.

 

 

  

Mia mekkin’ mock sport

At their manifesto

Declaring not only is it too late

But nothing to show.

 

 

Boasting about hers

And how early it was out

Forgetting she had an advantage

Given her ruling clout.

 

But here’s a message

To those revelling in red,

The times that we are living in

Are getting dread.

 

That slave mentality

That you are displaying

Is merely a replaying of de Massa

That you obeying.

 

After the ball is over

And the normalcy returns

You will become frightfully aware,

Aware of your burns.

 

Mentally and socially

And emotionally too,

They are really mekkin’ mock sport

At me and at you.

 

 

 

Give them 30 seats again

And see what I mean,

Democracy will become a nightmare

Not just a dream.

 

 

 

Keep closing your eyes

To what confronts you

And sooner or later you will get

What is your due.

 

Not what you desire

But something different,

Because Massa must get back

All that is spent.

 

Enjoyment will be brief

Normalcy will return

And for the life you were promised

You will still yearn.

 

All you that crossover,

You don’t really belong,

You think you are holding rank

But you are clowns.

 

Leaving your party

To hold on to coat tails

But when mock sport gets serious

You too will fail.

 

 

 

Yellow is a primary colour

Just like red

But any mixing is a different colour:

Orange instead.

 

Mam will not want that

So, you had better beware,

She will make mock sport at you

In the public’s glare.

 

What an embarrassment

That will be!

But just you remember that you too

Made mock sport at we.

 

Treat the electorate

Like they are illiterate

And one day soon they too will laugh

When you get tricked.

 

 

Don’t vote for an opposition

You have been told,

So, give them another clean sweep

And see what unfolds.

 

Only one can rule

Thus, a divine entitlement,

Swallow such unfounded stupidity

To your own detriment.

 

Give me a cool 17 to 13

And I say either way

And let me see how Mia performs

With less say.

 

That is wishful thinking

And unlikely to happen,

With so many dancing clowns in red

We are already smitten.

 

That’s why they laugh

And make mock sport at we

But they’ll have to pay the pied piper

At the end of their spree.

 

 

 

Getting rid of rats is one thing

But it comes with a cost,

Do remember that red is a warning

Much more could be lost.

 

Our freedom and democracy

Is seriously at stake

So, spare me all this mock sport

For our nation’s sake.

 

Stewart Russell © February 9, 2026

 

Manifesto of Promises

  

Our manifesto of promises:

Here is what we will do,

If only you give us your vote

We’ll see you through.

 

 

  

Our manifesto of promises

That we have timetabled

And we pledge to follow through

For we are able.

 

We cross our hearts

And we also hope to die

Showing you how serious we are

That we won’t lie.

 

Who would go so far

As the third verse did state?

None, for that is like handing you

Their heads on a plate.

 

An escape clause

Is what they will present

For oft times the promises made

Are just intent.

 

We knew it was bad

But not really this bad

And of course, we made promises

On what we thought we had.

 

 

 

May work for those

That are trying to get in

But for those that are actually in,

It’s a cardinal sin.

 

For, they know the truth

Of what is there or not,

They were the elected custodians

Of the entire lot.

 

If it were as bad

As they make out to be,

They’d hope the opposition wins

And they escape free.

 

Do you see the point

That I am making here?

Well, if you don’t, I am so sorry,

To me it is clear.

 

  

A manifesto of promises

Is invariably one’s intent

To sway the eligible electorate

In a certain bent.

 

It is like the calypso:

“You hear lie? That is lie.”

And smacks of clever politicians

Operating on the sly.

 

‘Tis a difference between

Manifesto and manifest:

The latter is closer to the truth;

The former is a mess.

 

  

A manifesto should be

A five-year plan

But when completed in far less,

That is a scam!

 

Consecutive snap elections

Convince me of this

Unless something is significant

That I have missed.

 

A manifesto of promises

Is invariably one’s intent

To sway the eligible electorate

In a certain bent.

 

Stewart Russell © February 9, 2026