I'm A Fool To Love You

I'm A Fool To Love You
by Cornelius Eady

Some folks will tell you the blues is a woman, Some type of supernatural creature. My mother would tell you, if she could, About her life with my father, A strange and sometimes cruel gentleman. She would tell you about the choices A young black woman faces. Is falling in with some man A deal with the devil In blue terms, the tongue we use When we don't want nuance To get in the way, When we need to talk straight. My mother chooses my father After choosing a man Who was, as we sing it, Of no account. This man made my father look good, That's how bad it was. He made my father seem like an island In the middle of a stormy sea, He made my father look like a rock. And is the blues the moment you realize You exist in a stacked deck, You look in a mirror at your young face, The face my sister carries, And you know it's the only leverage You've got. Does this create a hurt that whispers How you going to do? Is the blues the moment You shrug your shoulders And agree, a girl without money Is nothing, dust To be pushed around by any old breeze. Compared to this, My father seems, briefly, To be a fire escape. This is the way the blues works Its sorry wonders, Makes trouble look like A feather bed, Makes the wrong man's kisses A healing.

I Am Every Jamaican

In Honor of Jamaican Independence Day Today...


I Am Every Jamaican
By Jazz Johnson
Published Mar 31, 2005


I am every Jamaican
Black gyal, chiny gyal, Indian gyal, white
What are you? They ask
Hand outstretched to touch
And then retracted
And I smile with a knowing air
And say…
“I am every Jamaican”

Proud woman, hard working man, strength, hardship, laughter
What drives you? They ponder
As we work hard for the yankee dollar
Yet still
Soul untouched
And head held high
We always
Fly…
“I am every Jamaican”

Domino slapping, Jerk chicken eating, Reggae, dancehall
Where does the rhythm come from?
From the beating
Of the drums
From ancestors carried far away
From home
Trying to preserve, to maintain
Our dignity
And
With
A sigh
I say…
“I am every Jamaican”

White sand beaches, deep cool rivers, wood, water
We enjoy your land
They say
As we watch jealously
As they frolic and play
In our legacy

Because of our poverty
And I ache
Because…
“I am every Jamaican”

*I* am Every Jamaican
Out of many one people
*I* am every Jamaican
who works for the dream
to die at home
*I* am every Jamaican
whose heartbeat echoes
the rhythm of transplanted beats and nations
*I* am every Jamaican
who longs for the blue azure beach
*I*
am
every
Jamaican…

Jazz Johnson

http://www.jamaicans.com/credits/jazz.htm
http://www.jamaicans.com/culture/poems/iameveryjamaican.shtml