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

 

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

 

The X that Passes

  

 

Teacher failed me

But she gave you a pass,

Maybe she favours you above all

That are in her class.

 

The X that passes

Does not indicate fail,

But rather, it is symbolical of one

That has availed.

 

Checking the boxes

Is indicated with a tick,

However, there is just one time

When we get trick.

 

 

 

In the silly season

Or general election time

The X captures our attention

With X on our mind.

 

Wrong becomes right

And the X replaces a tick

And yes, this is that very occasion

When we are tricked. 

 

Promises are made

As usual to do better

And we pass unfaithful servants

Becoming their debtors.

 

 

 

Masters rather briefly

Then become the slaves

While those we passed with an X

Behave like knaves.

 

How I hated an X

When I was at school

And now those receiving my X

Take me for a fool.

 

They’re out canvassing

To fool me again

But I know all they are about

Is causing me pain.

 

 

 

Taking my X for a pass

And doing as they like

Because we are the real morons

And they are bright.

 

Electorate or illiterate

I leave you to choose

But when an X becomes a pass

We invariably lose.

 

Stewart Russell © February 3, 2026

 

They Don’t Care

  

 

They don’t care

Hence, the growing apathy,

Government after government

Regardless of party.

 

They don’t care

Hence, the colossal waste,

HOPE, a project of hopelessness:

What a disgrace!

 

An Auditor General

Without any teeth,

Year after year his candid report

Ignored by the chief.

 

Made light of

Like the Czar in COVID-19,

Who we almost did not recognize

Had left the scene.

 

One day he was

The next day he was not

And not a single explanation

Had we got.

 

 

 

They don’t care

When we complain

And the excuses they give to us

Are rather lame.

 

They can’t cut VAT

But they will raise salaries

So, the merchants can raise prices

And cause more misery.

 

Guns are increasing

And so too, homicides

But they do not care, I tell you,

Whatever betide.

 

Promises, promises!

Sounds like they care?

Just remember who governed

These seven years.

 

Seven and a half

And two slaps in the face

By calling two snap elections:

What a disgrace!

 

 

 

That they don’t care

Is exceeding clear to see,

I pray they won’t be another 30-0,

Lord, let it not be.

 

They just don’t care

After a year or so

And severe misery and neglect

Is all we can show.

 

Stewart Russell © February 3, 2026

 

We Seeing Red

  

 

We seeing red

In more ways than one,

In one way it looks like the BLP

Already won.

 

In another

It is the cost of living

Determined by the harsh policies

By who’s presiding.

 

We seeing red

The BLP still on the up

But the blood of valuable youth

Clotting in muck.

 

 

 

‘Tis in the street

For everyone to see,

A lot of shooting and stabbing,

As in a spree.

 

We seeing red

As in the BLP posters

Making all opposing candidates

Look like jokers.

 

 

 

Red and Ready

Is their rallying cry,

Grant Mia Mottley a third term

Lest we die.

 

We seeing red

It could be the sunset

Or it could be billions of dollars

As in our debt.

 

It could be the GDP

With the country in red

And for the majority of us all

Things real dread.

 

 

 

It could also be

The BLP’s supersonic rise

As they achieve millionaire status

In smart disguise.

 

We seeing red

Blood vessels bursting,

On account of migraine headaches,

And Mia trusting.

 

We seeing red

Because we are afraid

That nobody other than Aunty Mia

Can access aid.

 

 

 

So, bear in mind

Should she be returned

The red we see might be our Bim

Crash and burn.

 

We seeing red

In more ways than one,

Is it time to change red to blue

As in Thorne?

 

 

Republic is red

Independence is blue,

I would wish to know the answer;

Won’t you too?

 

Stewart Russell © January 31, 2026

 

Mia’s Elixir

  

 

 

None bestrides Barbados

Like PM Mia Mottley,

She appears in absolute control

Of the BLP party.

 

Any that oppose

Is likely to be disposed

And after the nine-day wonder

The matter is closed.

 

The Owen Arthur group

Appears loudly silent

With a silence so acutely deafening

They have lost intent.

 

It might be recessive

But dare not show its face,

Prime minister Mia Amor Mottley

Bestrides this place.

 

She can do no wrong

Even when she does wrong,

To her cultic following it’s a perception

Of the never-belong.

 

 

 

“They are not of us

Though they long to be

To share in the ongoing benevolence

Of PM Mia Mottley."

 

To drink of the elixir

That pours forth from her,

Being the greatest Prime Minister

In the universe.

 

Drunken they’ve become

In merriment and song,

Not only bemused but besotted

All the day long.

 

To whom can they turn

When none other compare?

That she is the greatest of all time

Should be very clear.

 

Mia’s unique elixir

Is the best cure for all

And it is in demand not only here

But also, abroad.

 

 

 

Now on the Forbes’ list

Of the world’s greatest females,

She climbs the international ladder

Without fail.

 

Position at number 99

The world is drinking too

Of Barbados’ Prime Minister’s elixir:

Her special brew.

 

How else could she do

All the things she has done

And still maintain her total control

On the hearts she won?

 

 

 

It has to be her elixir

They’ve been drinking from

Rendering them incapable of reason:

In fact, brain numb.

 

None bestrides Barbados

Like PM Mia Mottley,

She appears in absolute control

Of this country.

 

Stewart Russell © January 29, 2026

 

I’m Highly Curious

  

 

 

I am highly curious

Of the PM’s moves,

How this snap election thing

Is become her groove.

 

What, pray tell,

Is her reason for such?

I really wish she would come out

And tell us as much.

 

Be transparent Mam,

As you did promise,

Why are these snap elections

So high on your list?

 

Is five years too much

To handle at a time

Or is getting a fresh mandate

Niggling at your mind?

 

 

 

Atherley then Ralphie,

Forming an Opposition

And putting a blot on the outcome

Of the elections.

 

 

 

Are rumblings within

Your well-oiled machine?

Are senior members of the party

Causing you to scream?

 

Tell us Madam PM

What is upsetting you

And causing you to end the term

Before you are through.

 

Constitution incomplete

Promised in twenty-two,

But a general election imminent

Announced by you.

 

A snap general election

A year before it is due,

I tell you Madam PM, I am curious

And others are too.

 

If you do this again

Fifteen years would be eleven:

Three and a half twice plus four

Creates a problem.

 

Three terms of eleven years

Rather than fifteen,

I would feel rather short-changed

If you see what I mean.

 

So, Madam PM

What is this all about?

Are you just calling snap elections

Because you have the clout?

 

Or was it, I ask you,

To assuredly settle a score

By removing a thorn in your flesh

That makes you sore?

 

Did you run out steam

And preferred a fresh start

Or did you want to show the wannabees

They are not smart?

 

 

 

Would you be disposed

To do like the USA

And have a fixed date for elections

And proceed in this way?

 

Highly curious

Madam Prime Minister,

Please answer me truthfully

And do not defer.

 

Stewart Russell © January 24, 2026