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

 

Is There a Chance?

  

 

 

Is there any chance

There won’t be a three-peat

In which the Mia Mottley led BLP

Gets every seat?

 

 

 

I can tell you

What I’m hearing out there

But really most if it is fairy tale

I’d rather not share.

 

Some are saying

What they would like to see

But the reality is quite evident

It’s not likely to be.

 

The Ds are confident

So too, Friends of Democracy,

Three have even formed a coalition

To build efficacy.

 

Utility pole after utility pole

Is flashing Bright Red,

“Red and Ready” is Mia’s slogan,

Things looking dread.

 

Up to the time of writing

I’m yet to see some yellow

But a once prominent D surmised

Posters are rather shallow.

 

Differently, I observed

A certain Constituency office

So bedecked with the face of a candidate

He could never be missed.

 

 

You’d better believe it

The country is seeing red,

Actually, in more ways than one

It’s both red and dread.

 

Is there a chance?

I would say not much,

Thirty-nil, while losing some ground,

And this is simply put.

 

DLP’s vote is severely split:

Not so with the BLP,

Apathy will no doubt play its part

But not significantly.

 

 

 

The Bs are red and ready

The Ds are confident,

The other parties will cause a stir

As Bs and Ds they resent.

 

We need an Opposition

That’s vibrant in its appeal,

No one man opposition can put fire

To the Government’s heel.

 

No threat to starve MPs

Will have long term effect,

Such a silly and petulant strategy

Is a futile threat.

 

Numbers count, I argue,

Especially in Parliament

And they must be significant enough

For the Ds to make a dent.

 

 

  

So, while I wish them luck

And hope they advance,

Something tells me quite loudly:

Not a chance!

 

Stewart Russell © January 24, 2026

 

Diminished in A Moment

  

 

Get your act together

Or we’ll treat you like the rat,

If such were said to you,

Would you take that?

 

And what about your pride?

Would any at all be left

Or would you only hear the welcome

And to the rest be deaf?

 

The bosom is very close

So, every eye will be on you,

Would you still be feeling accepted

Regarded with such a view?

  

You could be an opportunist

Or perhaps seen as a plant

To offset their enduring institution

But understand you can’t.

 

Barely four years passed

And that you disliked now like,

Is it really the case, Mr. Defector

You have seen the light?

 

 

 

Did your constituents know:

Those who voted for you,

That you were parting ways with them

And are finally through?

 

R.A.T. crossed the floor

Just like the bishop before

But you, sir, had everyone guessing

Before closing the door.

 

Maybe you were smarter

And displayed a better timing

In winning the nomination in the city

Before the bell was ringing.

 

 

 

Just in time Mr. Defector,

Or already in the bosom

Having been accepted by the PM

And past sins forgotten?

 

You may be riding high

Or so you may be feeling

But to be welcomed in such a way

To me is quite revealing.

 

Maybe you’ll win the seat

But what about your pride?

The fact that you are being used

Cannot be denied.

 

 

Diminished in a moment:

Insult followed success,

Mr. Defector, it definitely seems to me

You are a pawn at best.

 

Maybe there was a reason

You had lost your voice,

Perhaps your vocal-chords doubted

The reason for your choice.

 

From a dying institution

To one that seems invincible,

The fact you’re at the bottom of the pack

To me is inescapable.

 

It is an interesting lane

To which you have switched

But in the best interest of the city folk

I hope you can make it fit.

 

 

 

Representation in the courts

Is different from Parliament,

In the former you are paid for services

In the latter you are a servant.

 

 

 

In one you decide your pay

In the other, the Government,

But note it’s the money of taxpayers

Whom you represent.

 

Diminished in a moment

By the Deputy PM

So, tell me in all sincerity Mr. Defector,

Are you through with the Dems?

 

Stewart Russell © January 19, 2026

 

Building Nationhood

 

 

No man is an island

Is not mere cliché

For it takes a dedicated people

Pulling the same way.

 

A country divided

Is sure to fall

But He who pulls it together

Is Almighty God.

 

No party is a Nation

But the people are,

They are the engine that propels

As in a motorcar.

 

True democracy is:

Dueling, cut and thrust

Though not by any means to death

But common in purpose.

 

 

 

Building Nationhood

Is the singular purpose,

It’s practising the kind of democracy

We can trust.

 

Eradication of opposition

Is at most tyranny,

For it neither builds nor develops

Any country.

 

But rather, it destroys

And it pulls down

And causes its citizens to carry

A quizzical frown.

 

Replete with nepotism

It takes care only of its own

Among whom the fatted calf is divided

Minus the bones.

 

If minus the bones

Portrays an undertone

To which you may take offence,

Then you're not alone.

 

 

 

Building Nationhood is

Having each other’s back

And depicts a degree of selflessness

That keeps all on track.

 

It is looking out for all

Especially the vulnerable

And creating for challenged persons

A life that is livable.

 

The academic and artisan,

Architect and engineer,

Sanitation workers and domestics:

To them all be fair.

 

Make an honest dollar.

Spend but also save

And help someone in dire need

Whom God also made.

 

A word to the shootists

And to all gun importers:

Please get involved in Nation building

As responsible voters.

 

A word to those officials

That turn a blind eye:

You may very well be contributing

To why so many die.

 

Especially our youth

More often by the gun

And a life full of promise and hope

Sadly done.

 

 

 

And to the Government

Of our fair land, Bim,

It is time to increase productivity

And cut borrowing.

 

Give greater incentive

To those that produce

So that we increase our exports

And imports reduce.

 

It is harder to repay

Than to borrow

And we know not of the vagaries

Inside tomorrow.

 

Build with God

With heart and with hands

And let your promised manifesto

Be the working plan.

 

Happy 59th, Barbados!

As we look towards 60,

May each Barbadian take his place

As a Nation building trusty.

 

 

 

Building Nationhood

For generations to come

So they too may acknowledge us

For a race well run.   

 

Stewart Russell © November 29, 2025

 

Whither Our Republic?

 

 

 

Have we bitten off

More than we can chew?

Regarding the state of our Republic,

What is your view?

 

So much in our mouth

We don’t know what to do:

Whether we should try to swallow

Or out of our mouth spew.

 

There is much reform

At least, the talk of it,

And many fantabulous ideas

That do not fit.

 

Everything divides us:

There’s little or no consensus

And even to do the simplest task

There is much fuss.

 

 

 

A Government by the people

For some of the people

While marginalizing the vulnerable

Climbing a slippery steeple.

 

An occasional handout

Rather than a hand-up

While those elected to be servants

Enjoy all the luck.

 

One opposition member

In our Parliament;

Making a mockery of democracy

Though not the intent.

 

Several bits and pieces

With segregated voice

Making us more and more susceptible

To Hobson’s choice.

 

The writing’s on the wall

For a third time coming

When the electorate are galvanized

For the next polling.

 

 

 

A lower poll is likely

With another thirty-nil,

Just thinking about the outcome

Gives me a chill.

 

Who will cross then

To form the opposition?

And this is of course, providing,

It’s not then forbidden.

 

 

 

Twice it’s been tried

With little effect

And it seems this lone member

Will be also a reject.

 

A Republic we are

Since twenty, twenty-two

But still no Republic Constitution

To shape the Republic’s view.

 

“Twas a grand idea then

With the greatest PM ever,

And the prospect of a Republic

Appeared quite clever.

 

Minus the Constitution

To paddle the State along,

Upon all the objections to the same

The PM frowned.

 

Thus, we’re still attached

To colonial apron strings

And experiencing all of the fallout

This situation brings.

 

Appellation is deceptive

When it is just a name

And like that Sardis church community

It becomes a shame.

 

 

 

They appeared to be alive

But in effect were dead

And the fact we are headed thus

Is what I dread. 

 

Have we bitten off

More than we can chew?

Regarding the state of our Republic,

What is your view?

 

Punching above our weight

Was said of our Bim,

Can we still affirm this reputation

When it’s so grim?

 

 

 

Friends of all

And satellites of none!

Is this still our Nation’s reality

Or is it now done?

 

What kind of mirror image

Are we going after?

Is it some kind that will bring

Derision and laughter?

 

Some are already mocking

Given the state we are in

Saying, “how the mighty have fallen!”

Referring to Bim.

 

 

 

I call to your attention

Red Plastic Bag’s song:

I am referring to “Bim, I Love You”

And how we sang along.

 

When there was that pride

In doing things right

And when the leaders of Barbados

Demonstrated insight.

 

When industry was key

And buttressed by pride

And we could go about our business

Without having to hide.

 

When guns were on the TV

But not on our streets

And there were far more victories

Than recurring defeats.

 

 

 

Have we bitten off

More than we can chew?

Regarding the state of our Republic,

What is your view?

 

When the church mattered

With its Sunday school

And our several par-military groups

Were developmental tools.

 

When recidivism was low

And bail was nigh impossible

And a child taking another’s property

Was in serious trouble.

 

When the gap was wider

Between parent and child

Such that a parent’s instruction

Would not be defied.

 

When morals were standard

And clearly understood

And when it was not taken lightly

To spill another’s blood.

 

When politeness mattered

And did not seem strange

And a person saying good morning

Did not appear deranged.

 

When a salutation

Was fervently returned

And every one was given respect-

Not just earned.

 

Hence, to the stranger

And the youngest child

And to a person of a different view:

Respect, do not vilify.

 

 

 

Have we bitten off

More than we can chew?

Regarding the state of our Republic,

What is your view?

 

Stewart Russell © September 24, 2025

 

Ponzi Scheme

 

 

In any Ponzi Scheme

Who is at the top?

The originator, my dear Watson,

That is his spot.

 

And how does it flow?

Invariably it is up,

Not as a stream would flow

No such luck.

 

So, the further you are

From the actual top

The less proceeds you will get

Until it stops.

 

Some will contribute

And never receive

And they will count their losses,

Forever aggrieved.

 

 

Visualize a pyramid

Or even a simple triangle,

Notice the broad and stable base

Where the most people.

 

 

At the apex sits one

That receives from all

And next they are those immediate

That under him fall.

 

These all benefit

Down to tier number eight

And pretty much after this level

The returns dissipate.

 

Life in Barbados

Is really a Ponzi Scheme,

That the bottom supports the top

Is clearly seen.

 

A little trickle down

But even this goes back up

For giving it back to the benefactor

Is the beneficiary’s luck.

 

It’s like, I give you this

To pay me back

And when the stated time comes

Let there be no lack.

 

At the top sits the PM

With enormous support

From whom the occasional crumb

Will bring false hope.

 

 

Like the $300 sprat

To catch the elusive whale

When all the hoping the poor did

Was to no avail.

 

Ironically the next day

The petrol went up

Whereupon the poor at the bottom

Angrily cheupsed.

 

Out maneuvered

And cleverly out foxed

The poor people of this fair land

Were flummoxed.

 

Selling their only vote

To the highest bidder,

Even the very little that they had

Went to the Pied Piper.

 

No hope of retrieval

What is done is done,

And another Ponzi scheme system

Is having a run.

 

 

The biggest Ponzi Scheme

Is that of a government

With their onerous burden of tax

Bringing great lament.

 

Promises are alluring

But returns are imaginary

And all the poor has for company

Is abject poverty.

 

Stewart Russell © September 2, 2025