Too Squeaky Clean

 

 

Hitting apples in de ground

With not a pipe around,

Just brushing off whatever dirt

And gulping dem down.

 

Drinking from another’s bottle

Without wiping off de top,

Catching something as a result

Was a whole lot of rot.

 

 

 

Brekking out juicy cane

And eating them in de ground

And the only problem we had

Is if de watchman around.

 

This was good for exercise

For we would have a good run

And we ain’t dropping de cane,

Boy, that was some fun.

 

And the regular stumped-toe

That we more often ignored

Healed within a matter of days

If it wasn’t stumped more.

 

Running around barefoot

And getting a “nail-juck”

Would attract a tetanus injection

And scarcely another look. 

 

 

Pitching marbles outside

And brewing wid we hands,

Helping de marble roll in de hole;

This was a master plan.

 

Wunna remember “killer”

A pitching game we use to play?

Mango or golden apple in we hand

And we still alive today.

 

Sharing a towel and a comb

And ignoring the 7-second rule,

A mango or apple under a tree

Was back then kind o’ cool.

 

Developing antibodies

Through the oral cavity

And having a clean-out ever so often

Surely fixed up you and me.

 

 

Castor-oil and shark-oil

And other bad-tasting things

Were proactive remedies back then

For our friends and siblings.

 

But nowadays

We are too squeaky clean,

And even the common cold

Creates quite a scene.

 

Children’s resistance is low

Despite a better hygiene,

It is my view and my contemporaries’

They are too squeaky clean.

 

The immune system is crippled

Almost becoming defunct,

Too squeaky clean, I must reiterate

Is more than just a hunch.

 

Above are scenarios

That made us grow up strong,

Back then it seemed so natural

But today it is wrong.

 

Doctors had less work,

Today the queues are longer,

And there is absolutely no doubt

Back then we were stronger.

 

We were not squeaky clean,

We could not afford to be

But today we are old and fairly well

Except for some senility.

 

Today we too squeaky clean

And we still getting sick,

Maybe it’s too much processed food

Instead of a little bit.

 

We ate bird-picked fruit

And probably a worm or two,

We couldn’t afford to be squeaky clean

And did what we had to do.

 

Stewart Russell © March 20, 2024

 

Nothing Like Love

 

Coke is the real thing

So they say

Banks Ah thanks!

Let the Tiger have its way.

Plus is food in a bottle

Sprite rids you of thirst

Nothing like lemonade

But water is first.

There’s succulent steak

And grilled chicken breast

Shrimp for those who like it

For some fish is best.

Golden apples are tops

For some it’s English apples

Mangoes are a favourite

But so are vegetables.

We love our fruits

And we love our meats

We love our vegetables

And we love our sweets.

Sweetbread and biscuits

Pudding and great cake

Then there’re the grains

And other things we bake.

By now you are wondering

Exactly where I am going

Stay with me awhile

Soon you will be knowing.

We speak of love so glibly

And often it’s so vague

A word so overused

It has now become stale.

“Love at first sight”

How can that be?

Seeing this is the fist time

That you’ve met that body


  

“I can’t live without you”

Just trying to impress

No real love intended

This is lust at best.

“I will love you forever”

Yea, till the troubles come

Then he is out of there

And you are forever done.

No, real love is forever

There is nothing like it

It stands the test of time

It’s a lifelong habit.

It patiently endures

And is dependent on God

It is forever constant

At home and abroad.

It may take a beating

But never gives up the fight

It strives for all that is lovely

For justice and for right.

Nothing compares to it

Its origin is from above

God only is its source

For God alone is Love.

Stewart Russell © February 2018

If I Ketch Dah Man

Up and down

And all around

Police dem looking

And cahn find nutting.

Inside and outside

“But woe betide

If I ketch dah man

He gine lose a hand.”

Dat tiefing brute

Went in hey fuh trute

Cah way my fruit

Dig my potato root.

Reaped and din sow

Come back fuh moe

En got nuh discretion

But I got my weapon.

I waiting fuh he

This time he gine see

Can’ always trick me

What will be will be.

If I ketch dah man

He gine lose a hand

I tek all I gun stand

I protecting my land.

By my tears my sweat

I come by this dat I get

And he come in dey

Like he own ‘bout hey,

I gine ketch he I know

You hear I tell you so

He gine know I’s boss

He gine bear de cost.

All did good last night

This morning was a sight

I gone in me ground

Lot o’ my fruit cahn be found

Not only de mangoes

But also potato rows

He pull and he pick

Man he got to be sick.

If I ketch dah man

He gine lose a hand

I tek all I gun stand

I protecting my land.

Police come dis morning

So early dem yawning

Look all over de place

Of him cahn find a trace.

Third time in a while

Dem cutting nuff style

Six mek up dem band

Can’ ketch a single man.

Strutting in dem walk

Dem talking pretty talk

We will have him stalk

Like Columbo Peter Falk.

  

I set all kind o’ trap

Trying to stop dis crap

But he’s a clever chap

He got he own map.

If I ketch dah man

He gine lose a hand

I tek all I gun stand

I protecting my land.

Now mango tree clean

Prettiest wuns ever seen

He done collect he fee

And get way scotch free.

He en sow but he reap

All my crops when I asleep

Selling dem all dirt cheap

Dat no good tiefing creep.

But it gine come to a end

Even if he is my friend

Right now I can’ say when

I will have my day den.

It gine stop I know

Tell them old Joe seh so

Come high tide or low

I gine eye ball this foe.

Several months later

Came a twist in this caper

I finally ketch de tief

But still uh get no relief.

  

Couldn’t believe muh eye

All uh could do was sigh

Din know he was so sly

Dat youngster could lie.

He set de traps wid me

Boy that was so funny

I look back now and see

Uh cun believe it did he.

He was last to go to bed

First to raise he head

Living in my household

Man he was really bold.

But he finally mek a slip

Right from he own lip

“Mangoes does sell good”

My own flesh and blood.

I know I got bear mout

All I could do is shout

But then I never knew

It was my wife’s nephew.

Yes I ketch de man

But uh cun tek off he hand

Cause he is muh family

So we have to live happily.

  

Stewart Russell © 2014