Are We for Real?

 

From where I sit

I do a lot of thinking,

Sometimes not very constructive

But I think we are sinking.

 

Sinking in so many ways

I am amazed

But hoping, hopefully not hopelessly

It is a passing phase.

 

Tremendous reform

Albeit in talking and planning,

Meanwhile, as far as I can see,

Little positive happening.

 

Constitution reform

And social reform,

Add to the mix education reform

And public service reform.

 

Meanwhile what has been built

Is now left to lag

And as usual, only a few

Have so-called reason to brag.

 

Partisan blindness

And mounting narcolepsy

Driven by myriad promises

And abject apathy.

 

A false sense of wellbeing

Amidst the swelling strife

Particularly among the “better off”

In their so-called better life.

 

How long I ask, how long,

Before reform takes some shape?

How much more, I ask,

Can the most vulnerable take?

 

 

Living on promises

Like a car running on fumes,

Petrol long gone from the tank

And no wriggle room.

 

Looking forward to a harvest

With the hope of trickle down

While living in a fairy tale world

Managed by clowns.

 

All schools being equal

Except for the student intake,

Some making it to paradise

Others, just to the gate.

 

Yes, all schools are equal

But some more equal than others

And the equal ones at the bottom

Causing us a bother.

 

If the schools are equal

School children where they live,

Goodness gracious, even I can see this

And my brain is a sieve.

 

A lousy attempt at zoning

And persisting with the same,

Daring to expect a different result-

Tell me, isn’t this insane?

 

 

Pecking order established

From a long time ago

And whose children will go where?

Both you and I know.

 

It bothers me a whole lot

Re our student disbursement

In which some schools are stifled

And others given entitlement.

 

And the measuring rod used

Is a single assessment

Of English and Mathematics

With questionable intent.

 

With similar courses of study

Each school must be competitive

And irrespective of student intake

Must use their initiative.

 

Top order or bottom order

It makes no difference,

They must do competitively well

At the Ministry’s insistence.

 

Those who have it

And those who clearly lack it

Must produce simultaneously

Though some ill equipped.

 

The comparisons are rife

From school to school

But to expect good results from all

Is the folly of a fool.

 

Are we for real

Expecting blood from a stone

And putting plasters on crises

That are full-blown?

 

Are we for real

Regarding the crime scene

Tapping ourselves on the shoulders

Re what should have been?

 

Because what is current

Is not the promise made

And given all the talking and planning

We have blatantly failed.

 

Tackling the problem

At the point of the outcome

But seemingly afraid to touch those

That bring in the guns.

 

Similarly with drugs;

It’s the youngster with the spliff

But drug barons and importers

Hiding in our midst.

 

Anonymous?  I doubt it

But apparently so,

But then again, if you ask me,

Who am I to know?

 

Constitution reform

Promised since Election 2022,

Haven’t been hearing much on this

Have you?

 

Are we for real

Thinking everybody is blind

And cannot see the short change

And that we’re in a bind?

 

Answer me this question

Re the most vulnerable,

Are they in any better a position

Or in more trouble?

 

Come focus with me

On the increasing poverty

Not on the international façade

That is our country.

 

From outside we are a house

Appearing freshly painted

But its occupants with hardships

Are daily acquainted.

 

Are we for real

Believing that plaster is a cure

When after many years of negligence

Maintenance was ignored.

 

It’s like in with the new

And out with the old

But the new is not quite ready

Is the story we are told.

 

So that while we await reform

What we have is dying

And the leadership pontificates

On how hard they are trying.

 

It’s like building a bridge

To be suspended in midair

With absolutely nothing to support it

But this, obviously not clear.

 

 

And the church in all this

Speaks of an apathy

That says Jesus will soon return

Hence, no need to worry.

 

Are we for real

Or is it nothing to you

Dear leaders of our fair land

What the poor are going through?

 

 

 

The T20 World Cup has come

And it is almost gone,

Come Saturday, God willing

It will be game on.

 

In just a few hours

The final will have ended,

A relative few will have benefitted

But most will be offended.

 

A few will be singing

While counting their profits

But the poor and most vulnerable

Will struggle as of habit.

 

We are in this together

Often says the PM

But her challenges are nothing

Like poor people problem.

 

Whence the next meal

The children to send school

And this is not the exception;

This is the rule.

 

Whose children are failing?

Mainly poor people’s,

The wealthy and the better off

Are not so troubled.

 

 

Are we for real?

My question to the elected,

Will you continue towards the future

The present being neglected?

 

Is it nothing to you

All you that pass by

Seemingly unaware and uncaring

When the vulnerable sigh?

Yes, you kings and queens

How about the pawns?

Will the pawns be any better off

After World Cup is gone?

 

After World Cup is Gone

Life will go on

But many will still face the night

Hoping for a dawn.

 

A dawn that is elusive

A dawn repeatedly promised,

A dawn natural to a select few

But to most a myth.

 

Stewart Russell © June 27, 2024

 

Let’s Listen

 

If everybody’s talking

Then who is really listening?

Recommendations and suggestions

And none to do the bidding.

 

A serious state of affairs

Presses down upon our world

And everybody has the remedy

But no talker can be heard.

 

Hence a world full of remedies

But none can be applied

To the many and varied problems

There’s none to stem the tide.

 

If everybody keeps talking

Then who will be left to listen?

One mouth and two ears

Has certainly gone out of fashion.

 

The ears automatically turn off

Whenever the mouth is engaged

And it will get decidedly worse

As long as mouth keeps up its rage.

 

It’s the problem with the world

As we confront our many problems,

From everyone a solution

Expressed with fervent passion.

 

My point is heard above yours

And therefore you are forced to shout

And while the noises crescendo

Nothing is being worked out.

 

If everybody’s talking

Whose ears will hear God’s word?

No wonder when there’s a lull

Some remark they haven’t heard.

 

For nobody wants to listen

As long as they want to be heard

For what the other has to say

Is nothing short of absurd.

 

  

Two ears to hear the spoken word

And one mouth to share the lot,

Listen twice as much implied

But that message has missed its spot.

 

Ineffective talk is noised around

As we operate in the reverse

And the problems considerably rise

As though indicating a curse.

 

Will I listen?  Will you listen?

Will we curb the incessant talk?

Not to the extent of becoming mute

But of improving the way we walk?

 

Nobody’s listening is an indictment

It’s a bill against you and me,

We’re all to blame for the state we’re in

We’re not acting responsibly.

 

 

We must listen twice as much

That is, twice as much as we speak

And be willing to give an ear to another

If a genuine solution we seek.

 

Stewart Russell © January 2020

 

Not for Malicious Conveyance

            

Sis Matilda rings up Sis Hilda

Phone ringing off the hook

Hilda never bothered to look

Settling in her gossip chair

She forgot every other care.

Picking up phone with style

Her face light up with a smile

Hi Matilda this you calling me?

Check yuh phone you can’ see?

I know it had to be you

You call to tell me ‘bout Sue?

Girl Sue is now old news

I hear some yuh can’ refuse.

Tell me wuh yuh hear now?

That Bert get butt by he cow?

Where you really living girl?

You really living in this worl’?

That news was so long ago

Could be ‘bout a month or so

So wuh juicy news you hear?

Chile doan prolong muh fear.

Easy, doan tek off yuh clothes

Shirley come into some blows

‘Pears she was pun de phone

Talking in a very endearing tone.

Tell muh wuh really happen?

She still live up in Clapham?

Yes in dah two be two house

Foolisher than a church mouse.

‘Pears Malone pass in he truck

And Shirley run out o’ luck

She din finish cook he food

De man was more than crude.

She is a foolish girl yuh know

But he din have to beat she so

‘Pears he ask she fuh he food

An’ she start playin’ she rude.

He grab two window sticks

An’ start to pour on de licks

He hit she eva which place

It was such a huge disgrace.

But Malone en a church man?

Yeah but he got a very heavy han’

To think of it I really must smile

Spare de rod and spile de chile.

But how you get dat in hey?

Malone preach dat on Sunday

Oh yes he is a lay preacher

Girl he is a interesting creature.

 

It serve she right, though

She had de phone hot fuh so

Not me an’ dat phone thing

I does cook an’ wash an’ sing.

De phone is a useful appliance

Not for malicious conveyance

I will never be caught doin’ dat

You could agree dah’s a fact.

You does really mek me laugh

Wha loss I hey gine crack in half

Wha’s dah I hear from you lip?

You doan indulge in phone gossip?

I does use this phone for business

Witness to people an’ help wid stress

I doan have time for gossips

Never from these anointed lips.

I have to agree wid you, soul

We must be about de Lord’s fold

He say we must feed he sheep

But de church like it gone to sleep.

 

She shun be gossiping on de phone

Guess she feel she did home alone

Shud a had de food ready for Malone

Hope she en got nuh broken bone.

But Matilda was he right to beat she?

My Hubert wun dare try dat wid me

He tell me once in hey I is de man

Girl in now I did done brek ‘e han.

He en mek me so he can’ hit me

Risk hitting an’ any man gine see

I, Hilda, en no body’s punching bag

I am real serious, I doan just brag.

I hear you girl an I understan’ too

But Shirley en like me or you

We doan waste time wid gossips

No never from we anointed lips.

But who she did pun de phone wid?

Wid Hilda you can take off de lid

I gine tell yuh in strictest confidence

Dis en for malicious conveyance.

Cross yuh heart and hope to die

Come on Tilda doan mek muh sigh

You eva gih me news dat I tell out?

You know Hilda could shut she mout’.

Awright den understand dis is news

Not to be open’ for public reviews

She did talkin’ to…you wun guess

Come and tell me doan gih me stress.

 

Shirley tell me in strictest confidence

My phone en for malicious conveyance

I am a very trusted confidante

Wha other people does do I just can’t.

She did talkin’ to Malone work boss

You must keep dis a secret at all cost

You can’ mean upright Belton Birch?

But all o’ dem does guh to we church.

I tell you girl de church gone sleep

Of dis news doan let me hear a peep

You is de only body dat I tell

I hope you can keep a secret well.

Matilda and Marcie

Hilda hold on think I hear a beep

This is Matilda you may speak

Marcie here; yuh got time fuh me?

Sure I always got time fuh you girlie.

De news you gih me is not true

I check it wid Shirley sister Sue

De pastor heard and investigate

I hope dis news en come too late.

Don’t worry, Marcie I only tell you

I always had doubts dat it was true

Marcie all of it is lie or only a part?

Dese days yuh can’ tek nuttin to heart.

But how de pastor get to know?

Shirley and her husband told him so

I doan understan’. What you mean?

Somebody wanted to create a scene.

You mean Shirley did not get beat?

Malone never touched she I repeat

An’ de boss man dat not true either?

All started by the same news provider.

Anybody fine out who is the gossiper?

It’s not a him for sure, ‘pears it’s a her

You can tell me, I am your frien’

An’ should I tell out dat be de end.

Awright I will tell, hope you can keep

Hope you en one to talk in your sleep

De last letters in she name is I-L-D-A

Can’ be Sis. Hilda, heard her just today.

No it is not Hilda, definitely not

So guess again and see who we’ve got

Dat’s a hard one and I do not know

But listen up, Marcie, I really must go.

Always nice hearing you call anytime

Or we can go St. John and have a lime

Just remember I had somethin’ doing

Can’t talk no more I must be going.

OK then, tell me when you fin’ out

I can trust you to shut your mout

Your phone is a useful appliance

And not for malicious conveyance.

 

  

Switched back to Hilda

Why she had to call at this very minute?

Talkin’ to her is sometimes de limit

Sorry, Hilda, for keeping you so long

But I just get a call from de church clown

No problem chile just leh we continue

‘Bout Br. Birch, hmm, dis better than stew

You were telling me ‘bout he and Shirley

Wha he do to he best frien’ is beyond me.

  

Hears a Car outside

Wait, I hear a car outside de house

It is de pastor and he church louse

How de two o’ dem get here so soon?

I was just tallkin’ to dat ole goon.

Gotta go let me see wha dey wish

De two o’ dem not my favourite dish

Call me back as soon as dey gone

I gine be hey even till after dawn.

Before I go leh me put you on yuh guard

Marcie comin’ at you real, real hard

She seh you scandalize Bro and Sis Malone

Can’ fine nuttin better to do pun you phone.

I tell she straight not de Sis Hilda I know

And wid that I tell she I have to go

Was she who call when I heard de beep

I feel she does talk even in she sleep.

A knock on the door

I hear dem knocking pun de door

I gine hear you; we will talk some more.

Matilda changes her tone

Thanks Sister Hilda nice sharing with you

I pray dat your husband get over de flu.

  

Four persons enter

Hello Pastor, Marcie, Bro and Sis Malone

I was just here ministering on de phone

Yuh know de phone is a useful appliance

I does never use it for malicious conveyance.

  

The pastor has the final word

I quite understand, Sister,  what you are saying

But I am concerned for those you are slandering,

Your phone should be used as a useful appliance

But you are using it for malicious conveyance.

 Stewart Russell © 2013