De Gas Run Out

 

 

De gas run out

And today is Sunday,

Nine times out of ten times

It happens this way.

 

In de middle of cooking

And de gas run out,

Tell me why pun a Sunday,

Gih me a shout!

 

All week long

And de gas all right

But then sudden so pun Sunday

When tings tight.

 

 

De gas run out!

Whuh, dis is a trick?

Yuh try to light up de stove

And get click, click!

 

Unless it is only we

Dat dis is happen to,

If it does happen to wunna too,

Say something, nuh!

 

If yuh know sumpting

Say sumpting,

Especially why you think

This is happening.

 

 

Why de gas does go

Mostly pun Sundays

And if maybe it is a lesson to me

To mend my ways.

 

Always be prepared!

Have a backup bottle

So dat whether Sunday or not

It en nuh trouble.

 

De smallest bottles

Is wuh I does use,

Like big-ups and better-offs

I can't pick and choose.

 

No natural gas

Does run in my road

And dem big cylinder bottles

Is too much of a load.

 

I can’t afford them

If you see what I mean

And dependable electricity

Is becoming a dream.

 

Plus, I find out recently

Natural gas more expensive

And I got to cut and contrive

If I want to live.

 

But leh we get back

To where we began,

Why mostly pun a Sunday?

Tell me, fam!

 

 

 

De gas run out

And today is Sunday,

Nine times out of ten times

It happens this way.

 

Stewart Russell © February 23, 2025

 

Embalmed Food

 

 

I thank God for refrigerators

And the delight that they are,

They have improved our lives

And they have done so by far.

 

Think of the wastage before:

The produce thrown away,

Before the advent of the fridge

That was another day.

 

Today it is so much different

Because of the fridge

And we must give God thanks

For this convenient privilege.

 

I especially want to highlight

The embalmed food

Simply because as I get older

This is more my groove.

 

At our house it is a practice

That no one meal serves one day;

It serves at least two days

And this is our way.

 

In my case in particular

It may serve three days or more

And this is surely because

I am eating far less than before.

 

At our house food is cooked

Expecting somebody to drop in

And if that someone doesn’t turn up

We cannot throw it in the bin.

 

 

Hence, we embalm that food

As in the fridge we store it

And this is especially after Sundays

That this has been our habit.

 

Some of you may be offended

By the word embalmed

But there is nothing funereal about it

So please stay calm!

 

Embalmed food is the sweetest

And I am unanimous in that

And many others can attest

To this culinary fact.

 

Of course, there are some

That eat fresh food every day,

They are not about the fridge

You will hear them say.

 

Sad to say, they will go in one

If they live long enough,

Please accept my humble apology

If this quip is too rough.

 

I’ve heard some call people lazy

When they don’t cook every day

But I also know for a fact

This is the bajan way.

 

Embalmed food is less stress

And for certain less effort

And it is one of the ways

In which I give the wife support.

 

 

I tell her, don’t worry ‘bout me

I will find something,

With embalmed food in the fridge

I can afford to sing.

 

She can go and rest herself

Or find something else to do,

She doesn’t have to cook everyday

Like a ship’s cook for the crew.

 

She will last much longer

And certainly, she won’t run away,

And all things being equal

You may lengthen her days.

 

So, criticize me if you must

But don’t touch my food:

Especially the food that is embalmed,

Hear me now, this is my groove.

 

Stewart Russell © May 25, 2021

Creatures of Routine

Ever noticed that’s you?

O that’s me too,

We’re both creatures of routine

Both me and you.

And as we get older

It becomes more so

It’s routine that helps us

Both you and I know.

I’ll leave you for a while

And talk about myself,

It’ll delay Alzheimer’s

And improve my health.

A regular term today

I am sure you’d agree

Especially among those

Who are older than me.

But back to the routine issue

Before I forget

And you begin to talk,

I am not there yet.

 

 

 

Creature of habit is another term

It means the same as routine,

The order we apply every day

To maintain a familiar scene.

I get up on mornings

And open the windows,

I unlock the gates

That’s the general flow.

Then I go to a place

You go there too,

Don’t turn up your nose

You know I mean you.

I compose a poem

Usually related to the Word,

On very rare occasions

It’s one that’s absurd.

I may or may not

Take breakfast, I mean

Then I try to catch up

On what has been.

The Nation and Barbados Today

Followed by devotions online,

Then it’s to my e-mail

To see what I will find.

Most days of the week

I have to leave home

Yes, and you guess it

I am seldom alone.

My wife travels with me

And that helps a lot,

She comes in handy

Regarding the things I forgot.

More often than not

There are several stops to make

So there’s a particular sequence

That I try to take.

Who wants to go back home

Having forgotten something

Or to have to head back out

When the telephone rings?

That’s enough about me

Now let’s get to you,

I know you have it down packed

But that’s just your view.

The same cup and plate

And the same drinking glass,

Heat the water in the kettle

Then put in the flask.

A regular cup of tea

All through the day

And all three meals at a set time,

That’s some people’s way.

  

The same seat in church

Every time you attend

And the same routine on Sundays

Your church knows the trend.

Same parking spot

Once nobody parks there

And that is rather seldom

Since you take especial care.

You arrive there early

To get both park and seat

And during that time

You can both meet and greet.

Let us return again

To what happens at home,

Regarding the following routines

None of us is alone.

Spectacles in the same spot

When not on the face,

We need them to search for them

When they are not in that place.

The cellphone can be a problem

Though not for the young,

It’s always in their hands

There it can always be found.

With the older ones

It’s quite a different scene,

They want to know

Who moved it from where it’s been.

Routine and habit

 Custom and procedure,

Success when we stick to it

And when we don’t there’s failure.

It’s a stress reliever

We try to convince everyone

And we try to sustain it

From dawn till dawn.

  

Everyone has a bit

Though some more than others

And the older one gets

The more it becomes a bother.

The older we get

It is all that we remember,

And when people try to change us

We don’t easily surrender.

The ignorant among us

Begin to call us names

Like obstinate and presumptuous

And even sometimes insane.

But their time will come

If they get old enough

Though they may be so into Alzheimer’s

They won’t know how tough.

Only this afternoon

We could not find the phone,

It is kept on the stand

And it stands there alone.

It was so ridiculous

See us looking everywhere

Even the strangest of places

Such was our fear.

Perhaps I flushed it

The wife had suggested

But I didn’t pay her any mind

I just wasn’t interested.

We looked and we looked

But the phone could not be found,

I began to feel responsible

And next I felt like a clown.

With a hundred guesses

You still would not know

But would you believe

The phone was left on the patio?

I rested it out there

In order to shift some plants

Knowing I would never forget it

No not a chance.

But alas it happened

And I felt particularly silly

For even though a creature of routine

It still happened to me.

Stewart Russell © June 2018

The Suspect

Mostly seen in Callenders Gardens

Fully clothed in body not in mind,

More than a little crazy

Should not approach at any time.

Frequents the Lodge Road district

Usually on Sundays

But also on Wednesdays and Fridays

He is occasionally swayed.

Not anywhere near six feet

So you know he is not tall

But in this he sees a consolation

He doesn’t have far to fall.

No distinguishing features

Except for a mark in his head,

Concerning the cause of this

Nothing more will be said.

Currently he is unemployed

But that is not all

Probably outlasted his usefulness 

But that is only my call.

Notwithstanding the above 

He still has three bosses,

However they provide him shelter

So he is able to ignore his losses.

Doubly armed and dangerous

Though mostly to himself,

Not known to the criminal court

But short on mental health.

Spent many years in school

In fact more than five decades,

Most of it while wearing spectacles

And in need of a hearing aid.

Possessed such love for children

That he himself never grew up,

Still behaves in a childish manner

And like them always interrupts.

  

Likes attracting attention

That’s another childish antic

And like children he doesn’t stop there

But adores in playing tricks.

Be very careful with him

He likes to twist your words

And when he has finished with you

You’re trapped in his crazy world.

He pretends at most things he does

For clearly there’s a struggle

And the reports from all on him

Determined that he is trouble.

His talents are many and varied

But nothing to shout about,

He dabbles in mostly everything

And fancy words he spouts.

He likes to flatter people

Hence he uses these words

But most can see right through him

And know he is disturbed.

He is in dire need of help

Particularly the psychiatric kind,

Just a cursory glance at him

Will show he is out of his mind.

He could be tricky with it though

Like most mad people are

And if you’re not on top your game

He’ll outsmart you by far.

He’ll have you eating from his hand

You’ll want to be his friend

But you can never tell with him

How it will turn out in the end.

If it were up to me 

I wouldn’t trust him one little bit,

That boy is smart

And he doesn’t miss a trick.

He has a good heart though

And only he would know that,

I know him personally

And I tell you that is a fact.

So whatever his short comings

And there are many

Be gentle with him, please

Don’t treat him like a public enemy.

Not one of us can change him

Only the good Lord can,

Remember that for the worst of us

God still has a plan.

If you should see this suspect

Do not confront him alone,

Ensure that you are with company

Or simply use your cell phone.

Get in touch with his bosses

I will give you their numbers offline

But do not try to apprehend him

He’s dangerous all the time.

Some have tangled with him

And they were not the same

But the interesting thing they noted

Was that he remained insane.

Take note of the sketch above

Your sanity might depend on it,

He is not easy to apprehend

Escaping is his habit.

Last seen writing a poem

And pretending to be a poet,

He answers to the name of Trouble

But he is certainly not a pet.

Stewart Russell © May 2018