My Address Is…

 

 

Complain Avenue,

Depression Boulevard

In the awful parish of Despair

Where life is very hard.

 

I like to complain

And hold pity parties

Though nobody listens to anybody

And everybody is angry.

 

Disgruntle, my neighbour,

Lives next door

And his wife, Yapping Nag

Is a real bore.

 

Minister Hard-Ears

Is the constituency rep

And he listens every five years;

Otherwise, he is vexed.

 

He’s a busy man

And loves to tell us so,

Not at election time though;

That’s when he’ll show.

 

My area is very quiet

Except for the noise

From the yapping complainers

Void of poise.

 

We are a contented lot

Never mind we complain

And we are used to death mutes

That numb our pain.

 

 

 

Almost thirty years

At Complain Avenue,

I have seen nothing change

Except for the view.

 

Where there was grass

Is now forested

And the vermin that live there

Have us frustrated.

 

There are rats and mice,

A mongoose or two,

And monkeys are taking over

Complain Avenue.

 

 

Well, we routed them

But now they are fighting back,

All is fair in love and war;

Give them some slack.

 

I like the Prime Minister

Boy, she can talk,

Busses coming soon but until,

You’d have to walk.

 

The garbage trucks lost

At least, it looks so

Though not so the garbage tax;

This continues to grow.

 

The sewage tax too

For people with a well,

Peter pays for Paul; Paul pays for all,

I guess that’s swell.

 

 

 

Stop complaining!

I hear you, man

But that’s where I live, yea:

Me and my clan.

 

If I stop complaining

I would go mad,

I get a warp feeling of satisfaction

And this is not all bad.

 

That ends this edition

Of satisfactory complaining,

Minister Hard-Ears hard of hearing

And won’t be listening.

 

Complain Avenue,

Depression Boulevard

In the awful parish of Despair

Where life is very hard.

 

Stewart Russell © November 1, 2024

 

Ease and Squeeze

 

Give and take

Is like ease and squeeze,

Our PM knows when to press gas

And when to freeze.

 

She needs to freeze

Cause she’s been on the gas

And the little we’ve accumulated

Is slipping away quite fast.

 

We need an ease

Cause we getting squeeze,

Cost of living continues to rise

Prices need to freeze.

 

Give and take isn’t working

At least, it is not for me,

I’m not numbered among the rich

And surely, I’m not wealthy.

 

 

 

Prices need to ease

For example, on gasoline

Plus, the quality of the gas we get

Is enough to make one scream.

 

Put in less than $60

And it’s gone the next day,

At present, driving on gasoline fumes,

Seems to be the Bajan way.

 

Do we pay VAT on petrol?

I would like to know,

Cause VAT and Tax at the fuel pump

Is definitely a “no-no”

 

Some roads are atrocious

In spite of the tax at the pump,

We have many slow-down potholes

Instead of the usual hump.

 

And worst when it rains

We’d better learn to swim

For given the depth of some potholes

There might be a drowning.

 

We need an ease

From these expensive potholes

For the way my money is going

My pocket must have holes.

 

 

Supermarkets are a trip

And once was a weekly squeeze

But now the money can’t stretch;

We definitely want an ease.

 

I was there day before

And I went back today,

Ordinarily it would have been a week

But this is no longer the way.

 

I am not “hand-to-mouth’

So, you can understand

What a challenge it is for others

With a lesser budgeted plan.

 

If they ever stop junk food

Some people will not eat

For the acquisition of a balanced diet

Is an inaccessible feat.

 

Well not for the well-off

Like the higher echelons,

But for the poor and vulnerable,

This hope is long gone.

 

Less ease, more squeeze

More give, less take,

The better off is given more

Less is the poor man’s stake.

 

So many poor among us

Not enough to go around,

Just enough for a few more pearls

To add to the rich man’s crown.

 

 

 

A huge gulf between

The rich and the very poor

And that gulf is widened by Government

Even more and more.

 

We need an ease

I have to reiterate,

Please, those who have been elected,

Improve the poor man’ state.

 

Stewart Russell © November 19, 2024

 

Satellites of None

“Friends of all,

Satellites of none”

Admonished Prime Minister Errol Barrow

When this country he had run.

 

Then, it had the ability

To punch above its weight

But this has been called into question

Only here of late.

 

“Friends of all!”

Nothing’s wrong with this

But we must take care whom we join

And with whom we enlist.

 

One country is up in arms

With the very mighty USA

Presumably because its Government

Has contravened the US way.

 

Refusing to recognize

A particular same sex union

It has brought on itself

A colossal problem.

 

America has shown

It is the World’s big bully

Disrespecting the laws of others

As well as their sovereignty.

 

Well, power is might

And this is nothing new,

Developing states must conform

And pay what is due.

 

This US love affair

Has been going on for a while

Even though it appears to me

It is only for style...

 

To make the US look good

Especially in the Caribbean

But the truth be told,

It is all a dream.

 

 

From the Basin Initiative

With its unstoppable hole

All through the Obama presidency

We saw US deceit unfold.

 

A regular intervenor

In local domestic disputes,

That America assumes the big brother,

One cannot dispute.

 

Like the impudent child

Scowling and red in the face

America is telling someone’s diplomats

To leave its place.

 

No extension of contracts

Thus, when the time expires they must go,

This is big bully’s reaction

To a Caribbean country we know.

 

“Satellites of none!”

The great Errol Barrow declared,

It does not matter their size

We must not bow in fear.

 

Giving up one’s sovereignty

Is like giving up one’s birthright,

The right to self-government

Disappears in the night.

 

For indeed, it is night

When one’s freedom is taken,

Especially a sovereign country

That wilts when threatened.

 

America does not care

And her agenda is not hidden,

To allow her absolute control

Must be strictly forbidden.

 

Oh, wretched people we are

When we simply capitulate,

In this ocean of combative bullies

We become only shark bait.

 

Stewart Russell © July 29, 2023

Stop Immediately!

 

 

If I heard a command

To stop immediately

I would expect the speaker to be

Someone of authority?

 

For example: a policeman

Or military personnel,

A school principal or teacher

Or some warning bell.

 

It’s an urgent command

Implying serious fallout

And this, if the recipient persists,

Would be without doubt.

 

Who would dare disobey

Someone with a gun

Unless he was fast enough

A bullet to outrun?

 

So, stop immediately

Speaks to authority

And that authoritative command

Implies great urgency.

 

I saw a popular evangelist

Blow COVID-19 away

Yet this pandemic is still with us

Up to this very day.

 

His was a stop immediately

That did not materialize

Since COVID is still with us

And not even in disguise.

 

Even with children

“Stop” is losing its weight,

Far less the "immediately",

They’d rather suffer fate.

 

 

One PM to another PM

Regarding a war declaration,

“Stop immediately!” that PM said,

But without recognition.

It was like Jezebel’s prophets

When they prayed to Baal

But Baal did not hear them

So, it was to no avail.

 

The “stop immediately”

Must from a greater power come

Or else it will be meaningless

And nothing will be done.

 

Immediacy and authority

Tend to go hand in hand,

Greatest power is proportionate to

Quickest heed to command.

 

One very popular pastor

And also, another well-known one,

Combined their double anointing

To quell the LGBTQ storm.

 

Another “stop immediately”

That did not make a difference,

The LGBTQ’s effort has not lessened

And definitely not their intent.

 

 

So, a “stop immediately”,

Must be from high up on the list

Of power brokers in the world

To pull off a “cease and desist”.

 

Do note my cherished reader

I have not mentioned any names

So, read this poem as it was written

And none of us will be blamed.

 

Stewart Russell © July 31, 2023

 

Law, Order and the Constitution

 

 

I knew a Patrick once-

My brother-in-law was he,

Gone these past sixteen years

But still in our memory.

 

So wonderful was he

We still missed him sorely,

He was very law-abiding too

And so, respectably.

 

Every time I hear Patrick

I remember my brother-in-law,

He too, like you and me

Was not without a flaw.

 

Where am I going with this?

By now you’re surely wondering,

Stay alert a little longer,

Now’s not the time for slumbering.

 

I know of another Patrick

But this one is a King,

With him I currently differ,

From different pages we sing.

 

Since we became a republic

We have been Constitution-less,

It is Patrick’s assessment

That Barbados is Law-less.

 

He has therefore become

A law unto himself

And as far as he is concerned

The Law now sits on a shelf.

 

“People”, as he often says,

He could not be more wrong,

So, beware, I warn you of Patrick

Who is both wrong and strong.

 

He is “adamant”,

You would recall that PM

Who may or may not have regretted

The message he decided to send.

 

Well, a good man he was

But he lost the Government in ’94,

And if Patrick continues to rant

He stands to lose much more.

 

We are in a mess, I agree,

But not in proportions of anarchy,

We have a Legislative and Judiciary

And a Police Constabulary.

 

All three are still functional

In our republic they’re still the same

So, Patrick needs to humble

Or else he’ll go insane.

 

And a word to his adherents:

Be careful who you follow,

Selfish and unbridled motivation

Can make a person shallow.

 

 

 

I trust not so in Patrick’s case

Thus, I pray he soon wakes up,

The last alleged episode he reported

Tells me he is running out of luck.

 

Stewart Russell © July 29, 2023

 

Baje

He was very tall though slightly bent

In his eighties I would put his age,

A handsome man he must have been

Judging by the remnants at this stage.

He walked with the aid of a cane

I suspect it was more as a precaution,

The fact it barely touched the ground

Totally held my attention.

I heard he’d already made the century

That was really hard to believe,

I heard he’d met the Governor General

From whom a visit he had also received.

How long past the century I could not tell

But at that age he looked exceedingly well,

He was full of verve with an appealing wit

And an infectious laughter it was hard to quell.

Bald on top buy grey at the temples

An encyclopedia of knowledge was he,

Especially as it pertained to Barbados

Its development and early history.

Back to the early sixteen hundreds

When this country became a colony

He told of the many plantation owners

Whose gains were made through slavery.

He told of his very own ancestors

Whom he traced right back to that time,

 Of his fore-parents: one white and one black

A beautiful black girl the Massa did find.

Such that clearly from his complexion

One could still see the evidence

That he was a mulatto of such origins

The egg of a black girl and a Massa’s intent.

He appeared proud of his origin

The fact he was both Negro and Caucasian,

He could speak at length about either

Which he did on every occasion.

He was proud to be a bajan

Perhaps the reason they called him baje,

He knew so much about this country

The called him the national sage.

They say he never went to university

And didn’t have a single certificate,

Seventh standard was his highest education

But about Barbados he could educate.

University historians had nothing on him

He was Barbados epitomized,

And don’t try to put this country down

For a rasping tongue would materialize.

He spoke of Samuel Jackman Prescod

And of Bussa the freedom fighting slave,

He spoke of Charles Duncan O’Neal

One of the heroes on our money engraved.

He highlighted the abolition of slavery

And the challenge it posed for the slaves,

How the Massa made them work for little

And called them good for nothing knaves.

“Not all Massas were bad,” he said

“A few of them were really good

Their slaves were really granted their freedom

And treated like a human being should.”

He talked much about adult suffrage

How the blacks were given power to vote,

How they had a say in the running of the country

He thought this was of the highest note.

He spoke like the erudite professor

He elaborated on the minutest details,

A panoramic view of Barbadian history

And the various challenges we assailed.

He gave a lengthy discourse on 1937

He talked about Adams and Clement Payne

He spoke of the event as an eyewitness

And the resulting developmental change.

He came right through to Independence

At which his eyes brightly lit up,

“Barbados had come to age,” he said,

“No longer was she Britain’s colonial pup.”

She had won the fight for self-rule

The right to determine her trading partners,

The right to set up her charter and direction

Without having to assent to what Britain preferred.

He spoke of the significance of the Barbados flag

Its three panels and the broken trident,

He recited the words of the national anthem

As he recounted that first Independence event.

Then a brisk walk through fifty-one years

Of successes and failures, falls and spills,

Of politics, elections and change of Governments

Of economic recessions, development and thrills.

From Barrow to Adams to Barrow again

St. John in between before Sandiford would reign,

Arthur took over then in came Thompson

Presently there is Stuart seven years holding strain.

Seamless takeovers with little or no fuss

This is the Barbados heritage in which we trust,

Quite a lot of talk during an election campaign

But as the electorate we do what we must.

Finally baje would chat about the outlook

Regarding the next ten to fifty years or so,

“We could do a lot better,” he would always say

“But we must make the effort to put our best on show.”

“We have come a long way,” in reflecting, he’d say

With that far away look in his eye,

“And with God’s help we will always get by.”

And with that he would look towards the sky.

Stewart Russell © November 2017