Poems

There are moments the sky refuses to speak,

when the wind steals every syllable

before it ever leaves your tongue.

You watch the horizon darken,

and suddenly the world feels smaller

than the space between two heartbeats.

Men kiss their wives

not knowing if that warmth might be

the last soft thing they ever touch.

Women cling to memories

that the floodwaters take

without asking for permission.

Streets become rivers,

and the rivers become something merciless.

Families vanish between lightning flashes

children calling for parents,

parents praying the sound

isn’t their child’s last breath.

Bodies are being found daily.

Some stories end in silence,

others in unanswered calls

and photos held to a chest

that trembles harder than the storm did.

Homes are lost,

and the homeless have nothing left to lose.

Grief seeps into everything —

into the walls that still stand,

into the voices trying to stay steady,

into the hearts that break

but somehow keep beating.

And still,

my heart bleeds for the ones

whose pain I will never fully know.

For the ones who held their families tight

and still watched the water rise.

For the ones who kept praying

even when the wind howled loud enough

to drown out every hope.

In God we trust —

and in the hands of strangers

who pulled others from the water,

in the courage of those who stayed,

in the love of those who return

to rubble and ruin

and start again.

Tonight, the sky is quieter.

But the ache remains

echoing in every name spoken,

every name still missing,

every piece of this island

that refuses to stop breathing.

– Zachary Thomas

(15 years old)

Graph

The graph of journey

Of a person’s life

Is drawn

According to the rules

Of a geometric theorem.

Rising from the base of a triangle.

With the rise and fall of age.

Capabilities of the person-

From physical, mental,

Economic, to social -

Increase in proportion

To the ascending arm

And then,

Reaching the peak,

The axis of age

Continues to increase, but

As the opposite arm descends,

Those same indicators

Of capability

Begin to decrease

Inversely proportional

To the age,

Diminishing fast

And disappearing altogether

On return to the base.

– Bimal Saigal

Jamaica, unyielding!

Jamaica! Jam Rock! Jamdung! “We can, and will build it back, again!”

People of this lovely island Paradise, this must be our simple refrain

When we get rocked and knocked down, like in Wicked Melissa’s stormy attack

As the wind and the rain stop, we must get up, stand up, and fight back!

That is who we are, a proud people, strong and resilient to the core

Whether we are considered rich, middle class, or just so-so poor

We rally around the black, green, and gold in times of national need

We come together in unity, for it is written in our creed.

As a loving people, all political differences meet their demise

We’re one big family, a winning team, together we press on, and we rise,

Our singular goal must be to build back our beautiful likkle island

Making it much better than before, making it oh so very grand!

Stones and debris we will remove, farm fields we will plough

Let’s do it quick and fast, Jamaica; come mek wi dweet man, right now!

Cement must be poured, and good seeds must be sown

Houses must be rebuilt, our neighbours’ and our own.

Businesses must restart; commerce must continue

“Unity forever!” means “us,” my people, it nuh mean, “unnu”

Christians, Muslims, Hindus; Buddhists, Jews, Rastas, and even the non-religious

Jamaicans are a unified people; we do not harbour animus!

Reggae music must play loud again, people must party, dance, and sing

Damaged roads, bridges, and buildings - Jamaica, we must fix everything

Light, water, and telecoms, all infrastructure repairs must be prioritized

We’re a small island that packs a punch much bigger than our size.

We must have the same objectives - to make Sweet Jamaica whole again

And to make our people safe and secure, and free from aches and pains

Smiling ever brightly; no problem man, wi a hol’ a vibes and chill

Just cool nuh man, foreign observers, a bill man an man a bill!

We must take care of each other, and the population must be fed

Everyone must have food and shelter, and somewhere to lay their head

We cherish those who are living, and we mourn those who have passed away

Time and other resources we’ll be giving, tomorrow too, not just today!

So, whether it’s hurricanes Charlie, Gilbert, or Melissa - Miss Oh-So-Mean

Ivan, Beryl, Sandy; Gustav, or Mister Hurricane Dean

We respect all tropical cyclones and the destructive power that they wield

They may knock us down and beat us up, but they can never make us yield!

One step back, two steps forward, Jamaica, Jamaica-love, wi seh!

Out of many one people, hey ugly gal Melissa, gu-weh!

Our women are the most beautiful, and great warriors are our men

Every time storm mash wi up, wi a guh build it back better, right, Jamaica?! Yeah man, no problem!!!

– Duhaney Smith