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

 

From Whence the Guns

 

From whence the guns

That spill the life blood

Of the many youths of our country

In our neighbourhood?

 

Why such a mystery

Guarded with hushed tone

Spreading death across the land

From zone to zone?

 

How did we get here

Given the lot o’ talk

Mouthed by the elected authority

But lacking the walk?

 

Are there untouchables

That cannot be touched

Or are English speaking politicians

Talking Dutch?

 

 

From whence the guns

And via whom I ask,

Is the attempt to thwart police

An assigned task?

 

Is “If you see something

Say something”

To be taken seriously

Or is it just another saying?

 

Is it to make the vulnerable

Even more vulnerable

And get the same said vulnerable

Into more trouble?

 

And when I see something

And then say something,

Are those charged with doing something

Going to do anything?

 

 

I have become a skeptic

And I will tell you why:

That there is little being done

I cannot deny.

 

Many be the barking dogs

Which are chained

That are repeating the same bark

Again, and again!

 

Somebody has to know

From whence come the guns

And I don’t mean who import them-

Please don’t make fun.

 

 

Who will spot the light

On the source of this crime

And follow the advice of a calypso

About where to shine?

 

From whence the guns?

Come they not from somewhere

Or else, tell me my dear Watson,

How would they get here?

 

And by whom the guns?

Come they not by someone

Or can you tell me my dear Watson,

Are the importers gone?

 

Gone from here abouts

That they cannot be found

Or are our investigators made to look

Like bungling clowns?

 

Hats off to each calypsonian

Who, with social commentary,

Was not afraid to speak to the ills

In this country.

 

Will the authorities

Now take the lead from them

And most assiduously and fearlessly

Deal with the gun problem?

 

 

And don’t dare mention tint

Or intercepting people’s calls,

For this is a horribly failed attempt

To make fools of us all.

 

Stewart Russell © August 10, 2025

 

Cannot Sleep

 

 

They cannot sleep

For the sound of the guns,

They know not where the next volley

Would come from.

 

High powered weapons

That bypass doors

Easily piercing chattel house wood

To drop on the floor.

 

So, they stay awake

Ready to hit the floor

While the little ones sleep through

Evidence by snores.

 

Unaware of the danger

That such weapons pose

The young ones could soundly sleep

As though comatose.

 

But the more aware,

They just cannot sleep,

They must be ready to take action

When the bullets speak.

 

In the still of the night

When the crickets chirp,

Mamas must watch over their babes

So, they won’t be hurt.

 

 

They cannot sleep

For the threat of the guns

While the avengers cannot sleep;

They’ve work to be done.

 

Revenge and reprisal

For the last one executed!

Wherever this assassin or whoever,

He too must be muted.

 

Half 2025 completed

And, with much to show

With a whopping twenty-eight persons

Who no longer pass go.

 

As judge and jury

And with weapon in hand,

These assassins have all they need

To execute their plan.

 

They cannot sleep

But for a different reason,

They have a mission to accomplish;

It is killing season.

 

Whether it be nighttime

Or whether it be day

Barbadian citizens are on the alert;

It is now the way.

 

 

A wave affects the island

Though not a storm type

And which our Parliament and police

Seem unable to fight.

 

With loads of rhetoric

And with “talk can’t done”,

They appear clueless as to the source

Of these imported guns.

 

We know how they come

Was a comment recently

In which the speaker made the effort

To be heard clearly.

 

That comment, as I recall,

Eliminated a constituency

Suggesting that we look to the others

To solve this mystery.

 

Can we have this assurance

From the other sitting MPs

What this particular MP made clear

Re their constituency?

 

 

They gave a suggestion

To be taken seriously

Regarding the Barbados Police Service

In carrying out their duty.

 

A targetted approach

Aimed at both high and low

And not just certain communities

As statistics show.

 

The country can’t sleep

With bullets flying around

When almost daily another citizen

Is taken down.

 

It is mostly the youth,

Putting our future at stake

As well as our tourism endeavour

Still thriving to date.

 

 

 

Many cannot sleep

Though for different reasons

And this reckless gun importation

Is akin to treason.

 

The elderly are targeted,

Our women especially

And we wonder who will be the next

In this unsolved mystery.

 

Many cannot sleep

And it is getting worse

And all we are mostly regaled with

Are speeches rehearsed.

 

From the illegal importer

To the assassin’s hand,

Guns are causing serious insomnia

In our fair land.

 

To grammar purists

Re my incorrect use of they-

To avoid the issue of gender identity,

I took this way.

Stewart Russell © July 1, 2025

 

I’m Amazed

 

 

I’m amazed

At the goings on

And the shocks I get

Almost every waking dawn.

 

I’m amazed

At promises made

That are ineffective

And absolutely to no avail.

 

I’m amazed

At the lot o’ talk

But in evident absentia

Is the accompanying walk.

 

I’m amazed

At the crime rate

Especially of shootings

And our concomitant state.

 

I’m amazed

At the resulting fear

And the no need to fear

By those who say they care.

 

 

I’m amazed

At the authority

That appears so clueless

In the running of our country.

 

I’m amazed

At the hopelessness

That crushes one’s hope

While mocking at their zest.

 

I’m amazed

At the little we do

And then seriously expect

A phenomenal harvest to accrue.

 

I’m amazed

That we believe

That a ban on toy guns

Will gun importation impede.

 

 

I’m amazed

That we believe

That the crime upsurge

Is to satisfy basic familial needs.

 

I’m amazed

At those people

That believe Government

Care about the most vulnerable.

 

I’m amazed

It is getting better

And life is getting easier

Yet people are becoming bitter.

 

I’m amazed

That the church

Feeling it is irrelevant

Is turning to secular experts.

 

 

I’m amazed

That its message

Now amazingly diluted

Leaves little substance to salvage.

 

I’m amazed

That immorality

Is now the new reality

With the dulling of sensibility.

 

I’m amazed

That I am amazed

That we are at this phaze

With so many walking in a daze.

 

Senses numbed

And outlook bleak

And is getting worse

At this very time as we speak.

 

Stewart Russell © December 19, 2024

 

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

 

Systemic Symptomatic Problematic

 

 

Three intriguing words

Pertaining to us,

Three mind-boggling words

Causing great fuss.

 

Integrally related

But frequently messed up

Three nerve-wracking words

In a bitter cup.

 

It is notably systemic

To treat to the symptomatic

Whereby the systemic

Becomes problematic.

 

 

Take for example, if you will,

The chastening of a child

Without ever trying to find out

Why he behaves defiled.

 

Children are easily led;

We know this quite well

And they adopt the lewd behaviour

That the adults sell.

 

Crop-over for example

And our “wuk-up” culture

Shown on our television stations

Leaving a vivid picture.

 

Indelible on their minds

As being desirable

But yet when they display it

It is detestable.

 

The skimpy costumes

Where allegedly we pay more for less

And the children see all this

That we regard as the best.

 

We promote the negative

With a “don’t you dare touch!

Noting that this is only for the adults”

But they don’t see it as such. 

 

Then we treat the symptoms

That we have caused

Hoping beyond wildest expectations

To put the problem on pause.

 

“Too many guns in this place”

Remember the calypso?

But that was a long time ago

Now, daily they grow.

 

 

And we state the obvious

But then deny the same

With a “there’s no cause for alarm”

When it’s causing us pain.

 

Nearly thirty for the year

While for last year twenty-three

Raising the call for spiritual reflection

By the political authority.

 

And I ask myself,

What do we hope to gain

When we avoid touching the areas

That are causing the pain.

 

Who bring in the guns?

For sure not the shooters

Though the constabulary often called

For willing whistle-blowers.

 

A whole lot of ideas

Swirling around out there

But regarding touching the untouchables,

No one dares.

 

 

The cat is well known

But who will attach the bell?

Not one man, sorry, mouse bold enough

This problem to quell.

 

Drugs are alive and well

As evidenced in our courts

But given the villains we see paraded

We have to be making sport.

 

Where the untouchables?

Not one you will see

Just the symptoms of the system

That we view evilly.

 

The children and the youth

Are the scourge of our land

Meanwhile, the real culprits continue

With their evil plan.

 

Yes, the problem flourishes

As we treat to the symptoms

And there is stark systemic failure

And public delirium.

 

Commendation was given

To the leadership of a school

For their proactive response to an incident

What a peculiar tool!

 

This baffled me a while

But it is what we do;

It is clearly the cart before the horse

Which is our current view.

 

 

Proactive meant before;

Now it can come after,

Maybe it is technological advancement

To encourage laughter.

 

Too tragic to be comic!

It’s no laughing matter

Given we are an ageing population

And our youth seek the hereafter.

 

They are dying daily;

Some even in their teens,

Breaking News frequently greet us

With another murder scene.

 

Meanwhile we need to do this

And we need to do that

But we cannot touch a “big wun”

And this is a fact.

 

 

 

A little birdie tells me

That they are not unknown

And that they move in places

That we also roam.

 

Anonymous is not nameless

As some may think

And the most impervious armour

Has a little chink.

 

“If you know something

Say something,” says the ad

But it is only applicable to some

And this is sad.

 

I read quite recently

In one of our tabloids

Something attributed to the Top cop

That makes me paranoid.

 

Legitimate ports of entry

Being used for illegitimacy

And officials turning a blind eye

So they wouldn’t see.

 

 

But there has to be more

To this ancient ploy

And I would not even be surprised

Who are collecting the spoils.

 

If the Top cop’s words

Are anything to go by,

Much is happening around us

And it’s being done on the sly.

 

The problem is solvable

But who will “bell the cat”?

When men are mice and retreat to holes

It’s time for a man-sized trap.

 

Systemic Symptomatic Problematic

It’s time we get it right,

A system in which symptoms are treated only,

Problems will be its plight.

 

Stewart Russell © July 17, 2024