Go Tell De Skipper

  

 

Send news to de Skipper

The DLP in disarray,

The party is nothing compared

To back in his day.

 

Tell him Sandy is dead

And David Thompson too,

Tell him Freundel is still around

With nothing to do.

 

Tell him Lashley jump ship

And Sinckler jump too

As well as some young democrats:

Not a few.

 

Tell him in three elections

They did not get a seat

And Prime Minister Mia Mottley

Did a three-peat.

 

 

 

Go tell de Skipper

De new BLP is BLP/DLP

So, there is no need in we republic

For an opposition party.

 

Go tell de Skipper

That things real brown

And that Barbadians seeing red

In country and in town.

 

Yes, go tell de Skipper

That de people blue vex

Cause a lot that was promised

Dem en get yet.

 

Promised legislation

To keep the MPs honest

Cannot get pass the Parliament;
O what a mess!

 

De promised Constitution

Lost out Queen’s Park

Cause de array of Commissioners

In the dark.

 

 

 

Go tell de Skipper

Bout hey like de Wild West

And the old folk real frightened

To leave their nest.

 

But O shoot, man,
Barrow en bury here!

His ash was scattered in the sea;

It blew everywhere.

 

A Caribbean man!

In life as well as in death

So, we have no choice in the matter

But to let him rest.

 

 

 

No turning in his grave,

His ash was scattered

And the party he helped establish,

Bruised and battered.

 

So don’t tell de Skipper

He is not hearing

And while these MPs are still alive,

They aren’t listening.

 

Go tell de Skipper

There’s nothing he can do

Cause Bim fuh de rich and famous;

Not for me and you.

 

Stewart Russell © February 28, 2026

 

Mia, the One-Eyed King

 

 

All but she be blind,

None else can see

Barbados floundering in sargassum

In the briny sea.

 

In the land of the blind

She is the one-eyed king,

No wonder her brain-washed followers

Daily her praises sing.

 

Punching above her weight

Once applied to Bim

Now all roads lead to Mia Amor

Our female one-eyed king.

 

Naught but she can see

The reason for the tint,

She with her narrow one-eyed vision

Perceives a criminal link.

 

 

And like that Emperor

Who ventured to expose,

She daily exposes Bim’s nakedness

In her newly-styled clothes.

 

Give the police a chance

To see who is at the wheel

Of the get-away car being driven,

Is the PM’s appeal.

 

Be it in the day or night

Sight should be facilitated,

Remove or reduce the heavy tint

And crime will be negated.

 

 

The blind won’t ever see this

But a one-eyed king can

And surely, to my way of thinking,

This is Mia’s plan.

 

I can’t fault her for this

Seeing that I am also blind

And while I disagreed in the past

I must agree this time.

 

Which is better, pray tell

Between one-eyed or blind?

Even the blind will vote everyday

For the one-eyed kind.

 

 

 

A thorn in the eye

Not quite what Gabby sang,

Will at least leave that single eye

To see the snake’s fang.

 

Mia is not totally blind

But surely the rest of us are,

Like the support staff of her domain

None of us sees very far.

 

With such a loss of vision

Hopefully we would hear

But the propaganda wax in this canal

Makes us hearing impaired.

 

The tint that impairs seeing

And the wool over our eyes

Have surely blocked out the truths

We constantly deny.

 

It surely appears to me

Both one-eyed and the blind

Must accept the blame for our State

Being in such a bind.

 

 

Our sight has deteriorated

Thus, our reliance on one eye,

And that one eye is becoming dim

Though this we also deny.

 

The PM has lost her way,

With none to bring us back,

Though she has vision in a single eye

The others, total vision lack.

 

She is still the king

In this very blind land

Where a thorn can do nothing more

Than prick the PM’s hand.

 

Stewart Russell © June 4, 2025

 

Who Is Mia?

 

 

Who is Mia?

Pray, can you tell?

Is she all right?

Is she well?

 

English nuances

Are wide and varied,

You’d find them in words

As well as in queries.

 

Who is Mia?

Oh, she is the PM,

To the naïve like me

That’s no problem.

 

On the other hand

Someone like you

Will approach this query

From another view.

 

Who is Mia?

Just a change in tone

And presto!

It’s another zone.

 

 

Who is Mia?

“A search for info”

This particular Mia

I do not know.

 

Who is Mia?

“An air of contempt”

This particular Mia

I actually resent.

 

 

 

Who is Mia?

See the contrast!

If it’s not clear on paper,

It’s in the tone I ask.

 

Who is Mia?

Pray tell!

Given all she’s done,

She must be well.

 

Who is Mia?

Hear me yell!

Given what she’s doing,

She can’t be well!

 

 

Enter the divide:

The pros and the cons,

The ‘con’ is tempting

But I will move on.

 

The genuine

And the ridiculous,

The ingenious

And the ingenuous.

 

Just playing around?

Indeed not!

With lives and livelihood

This would be rot!

 

 

Who is Mia?

See where I am going?

It is time, my friend,

To get in the knowing.

 

Is she all right?

Meaning in the head

Or, is she now lying

On a sick bed?

 

Should she be hospitalized

Psychiatric-wise

Or be taken to the QEH

Before she dies?

 

Who is Mia?

Doesn’t anyone know

That she is the architect

Of the republic show?

 

With a Constitution

Or without,

That we have some law

Is not in doubt.

 

 

But who is Mia?

Who she thinks she is?

For certain we can argue

She is not Liz.

 

If you didn’t know

Now you have an idea,

Mia is the Prime Minister

Of “bout hey”.

 

To some Mia is mad,

To some Mia is sane

But rest assured, my friend,

Mia is more than a name.

 

 

Known regionally

And internationally too

Mia is seen by many

As a political guru.

 

None like Mia!

And I mean none!

Not Barrow or Adams

Arthur or Thompson.

 

Not Sandi or Stuart,

St John was remote,

Not one was like Mia,

Seriously, no joke.

 

Whatever we do

And how ever we fuss,

Mia still bestrides Barbados

Like a colossus!

 

Stewart Russell © August 16, 2023

 

For Such a Time as This

She is not my favourite person,

Understand that I mean the PM

But I must confess I am impressed

With her handling of this problem.

I do not say this grudgingly

But I had to paint the background

So you’d understand that I write this poem

From my heart, and deep down.

With some things, I don’t agree

Considering her over all rule

But I get the clear impression here of late

She is being the Master’s tool.

I need to turn to the Holy Book

And from there explain to you

Why, contrary to my previous position,

I now hold this present view.

In the book named after a queen

Here are some words you should not miss:

“And who knows whether you are come to the kingdom

For such a time as this?”

A foreigner in the land was she

And her people were held captive,

A decree was sought from a certain source

For her people to die and not live.

When she heard of the wicked scheme

She placed her life on the line

And ventured to talk to the king

Though uninvited at that time.

To make a long story short

With the help of God, she succeeded,

And the conspirators of the wicked deed

Were utterly defeated.

The name of the queen was Esther

For the Jews she saved the day,

By simply following her spiritual advisor,

She was able to do it God’s way.

Too often we look at the person

Instead of what’s vested in him

And because of our personal preference

Our perspective of the situation is dim.

 

Who knows whether Mia Amor Mottley

Has come to our Parliament for this?

For while I have a preference for male leadership,

In Parliament, there’s a dearth on my list.

So let’s put aside our differences,

Be they political, gender or otherwise,

And together, for the betterment of Barbados,

From our selfish agendas arise.

There is much, too much at stake,

To ignore the work that’s being done,

So, together with our hardworking PM,

Let us march to the beat of the drum.

Maybe, just maybe,

 She has come to the kingdom

For such a time as this.

Stewart Russell © March 2020