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Catullus 101

Multas per gentes et multa per aequora vectus

Carried through many nations and over many seas

advenio has miseras, frater, ad inferias,

I arrived, brother, for these wretched funeral rites

ut te postremo donarem munere mortis

So that I might present you with the last tribute of death

et mutam nequiquam alloquerer cinerem.

and speak in vain to silent ash,

Quandoquidem fortuna mihi tete abstulit ipsum.

Since fortune has carried away from me you in the flesh

Heu miser indigne frater adempte mihi,

Atlas, poor brother, unfairly taken away from me,

nunc tamen interea haec, prisco quae more parentum

now in the meantime, nevertheless, these things which in the ancient custom of ancestors

tradita sunt tristi munere ad inferias,

are handed over as a sad tribute to the rites

accipe fraterno multum manantia fletu,

receive, dripping much with brotherly weeping.

atque in perpetuum, frater, ave atque vale.

And forever, brother, hail and farewell.

Adonais written by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822)

Saturday, February 17, 2018

Sir Errol Walton Barrow Pentameter Acrostic

St. Lucy, no doubt, cradled this man who
Identified well with folks on the streets;
Ruth O’Neal birthed his DNA tattoo.

Education was the staple he fed
Regularly, this bread to folks widespread;
Raised up the flow of their social justice;
O'er the colonial serfs iron-cape;
Led him to reshape the social landscape…

With him at the helm of the 'Ship of State';
All hands on his deck raised the 'Trident' straight;
Los Barbados returned  Union Jack
To far-off England on Guy Fawkes' back
On November of nineteen sixty-six
Ne'er more to shroud our heritage mix.

Brightly we sing "in plenty and in time"
All verses in our national anthem
Remembering, his legacy sublime;
Recently though, the party he co-found
Ousted the high Bees from their entrenched hive
With a manifesto Dems did contrive.

(November 14, 2008)


Wrote this acrostic poem in awe of Sir Errol Walton Barrow’s political life on the occasion of our 42nd Independence Day Celebrations. The move toward independence birthed in the 1930’s with a struggle by the descendants of liberated slaves to overcome high income restrictions on voting that kept political dominance by merchants of British descent. The results at the polls lead to the formation of trade unions from which leaders emerged.

Sir Grantley Adams founded the Barbados Progressive League, now the Barbados Labour Party. He was elected Premier of Barbados in 1958. By default, Sir Grantley Adam’s monarchical view was no rival for Errol Walton Barrow’s fervent socialist views which captured the hearts of the Barbadian people. They deeply felt that Errol Barrow genuinely had their interest at heart. So, they eventually replaced Sir Grantley Adams in 1961. Errol Barrow became the new Premier when his party the Democratic Labour Party, a liberal alternative to the conservative Barbados Labour Party, gained power. Barbados’ ability to function autonomously through peaceful democratic process resulted in the negotiation of its independence at a constitutional conference with United Kingdom in June, 1966. The 30th of November is now a national holiday in Barbados that celebrates its independence.

Barbados has one of the oldest governments in the world, with Parliament first established in 1641, from December 1961, Barbados was granted internal self-government under the direction of Right Honorable Errol Walton Barrow, who then became Premier. In November 1964 the title Premier was changed to Prime Minister and then in 1966 the Barbados Independence Act was passed in the British Parliament in London. Barbados gained full independence from the United Kingdom on November 30, 1966, when it became a commonwealth country, with Queen Elizabeth 11 remaining as head of state, with the monarchy represented by the Governor General.

Sir Errol Walton Barrow was born in the parish of St. Lucy, Barbados on January 21, 1920 and this day is now a national holiday in Barbados to celebrate one of the country’s national heroes. In the parish of St. Michael there is a national park, the Errol Barrow Park and a Statue of Barrow in Independence Square. The father of Barbados Independence, Sir Errol Walton Barrow served in World War II and went on to train as a barrister at law. In 1955 he formed the Democratic Labour Party. After Barbados was granted internal self-government, Errol Barrow’s second major achievement was to lower the age of voting to 18 in 1964. His brand of leadership showered on him the greater accolade of Statesman and not that of a politician. The bee which folks from St. Lucy wear in their bonnets is the fact that there is no statue of Sir Errol Walton Barrow in St. Lucy. We with pride and industry a statue of the Father of our Independence is needed in St. Lucy.

Sir Errol Walton Barrow was the husband of Carolyn Plaskett Barrow, born on January 31, 1917 in Orange, New Jersey. She became the first lady of Barbados. Two children, David Barrow and Leslie Barrow were the result of their marriage. Carolyn Barrow died in Barbados of natural causes at the age of 84 on November 11, 2001. Her husband, Errol Walton Barrow was 67 years when he died on June 2, 1987. Their daughter, Lesley Barrow at 58 died on August 8, 2008 in Barbados.

Image result for errol barrow independence pictures

Errol Walton Barrow, PC, QC (21 January 1920 – 1 June 1987) was a Caribbean statesman and the first Prime Minister of Barbados. Born into a family of political and civic activists in the parish of Saint Lucy, he was educated at Harrison College. He was also known as "Dipper Barrow" within the country itself.

Thursday, February 15, 2018

Queen Victoria in Acrostic

Queen Victoria wed her cousin
Uncle Leopold’s nephew, Prince Albert;
Eccentric to marriage laws in Bible;
Economic’ crucial role in Britain;
Nuptial family ties grace the Throne. 

Vegan food was not her forte;
Ideology dripped from throne;
Cadre of folks did her biding;
Tucking her in bed, Albert’s gift;
Obedience was his forte;
Radiantly he helped her rule,
In every conceivable way
Albert was, always at her side.

(February 15, 2018)

Tuesday, February 06, 2018

Sunday, February 04, 2018

Saturday, February 03, 2018

Black History Month in Poetry (1625-1960) Lord Nelson

A squire is in the square;
So many times those things
Before us, we don't see;
The changing tide we fight
It, with all of our might...
Globalization, is

The crust that holds firmly,
The economic pie;
And nothing is the same;
When the day has ended... 
Do you stop to wonder
Why, sometimes tears do fall

Simultaneously, when
Those kisses are planted?
Why good memories are
Made of bliss, and bad ones
Flow from those teary eyes,
And terror everywhere?

How many times do we
See squire within a square?
How many times we see,
People squatting out there,
In the air and the rain,
Around Trafalgar Square,

Heroes’ Square, the swing bridge,
The Central Bank and pier?
In this symbolism,
Competing images
In mind appearing,
Taxing over stressed brain; 

And those opposing views
We hear, and read in news.
Now Folks for crying out,
Across the island that
There stands a Navy man
In Trafalgar Square that

Is Independence Square
With stone-eyes at Barrow,
Our national hero;
This sailor from Britain; 
A squire within a square,
Pun intended, really

This foreign Admiral
Of the high seas fought for
The British monarchy;
This Lord towers high in
The middle of the square,
Faced Broad Street; backs Broad Street


Close to those buildings for
This foreign sentinel
Guards, prominent site in
Barbados, this sailor
With a gun at his side

Near the boardwalk that
Hugs the ebbing tide,
And this man with one-eye,
One hand sailed many storms
Swirling the seven seas
And Caribbean lands. 

He looked at hurricanes
He watches ocean deep,
With their destructive eyes
On the sea and the land;
Yet he stands steadfastly,
Like the stately Royal

Palms near the bay, with their
Feet in sandy clay in
The porous coral ground
This Norfolk Admiral 
Gazes in full command;
Over harbor, the land,

The careenage and the
Tranquil estuary
Laden with all types of
Vessels mariners keep.

Wishes amid the stars
That he could again sail,
Blue Caribbean Sea
And mingle with Pringle,
At him everyone stares;
But, their gazes are looks

Of admiration mixed
With condemnation at
His stance, so demanding
So much more than a glance;
Tourists from near and far
Have come to pay homage

To noble Englishman
In bronzy body wear; 
With flashing cameras,
On this their Libra knight;
His stony face shines in
The hot tropical sun,

Hurricanes and the dew.
Vexed he as hell the bell
Chimes, loudly in his ears
Like the English’s  Big Ben
Singing on the air
Every hour and day.

And top of that all those
Birds that shit on his head
And "ladies of the night";
That Pringle keeps in her
Inn around Carlisle bay...
Colonial Bajans

Worshiped this Admiral,
'Cause at forty-seven
This Lord, a rector's son
In Battle Trafalgar
Showed extreme bravery,
Eighteen hundred and five,

In their “Little England”;
Bajans adopted Englishman
As their new found hero.
Eight years after his death,
Westmacott’s bronze statue
Of this rector’s son was

Place on Barbados' soil
In our Trafalgar Square.
His memory lives on;
In colonial breeze
Discontent still remains
Concerning his placement


In this Trident nation;
Patriotic Bajans
Aired their discontentment
For this British hero,
Lord Nelson in their square,
Heroes Square, with Barrow.

Father of their nation
Barrow their true hero
Independence he gave
In nineteen sixty-six
Sent, Union Jack back.
To quell the discontent

That brewed on the island,
Trafalgar Square renamed,
The Independence Square;
But discontent remained;
Nelson's relocation
Aired, across the island;

Barrow must take his spot,
He is our true hero;
No foreigner will do.
Appeasement back on board
Because they want the votes;
So the Square was renamed
Heroes Square but still the

Controversy remains. 
On the land, because the
People want Nelson move
From Heroes' Square, a place
For National Heroes;
Not Foreign navel-strings

The jury is still out;
Lord Nelson still usurps;
Amid  turning of his head
Front, back, east and the west.
Politicians silent. 

This Independence Square,
Is the place for heroes
Who are Barbadians
Built by their sweat and tears
Is not for buccaneers...
Like Admiral Lord Nelson,

Move to the Garrison;
His final resting place...

Poetics of the occasion has its roots in history and much use is made of historical imagery.  Its focus is to delineate events of the past by incorporating elements of artful composition and poetic diction.  The poem “Planted Hero of Trafalgar Square” reflects scenes from Barbados colonial ties with Great Britain and the diplomatic battle for independence with Great Britain which Barbados won.

In writing a poem with historical imagery, poets have a slightly different responsibility than do historians.  A modern historian is expected to present factually correct narratives. The poet writing historical poems can adhere to this ideal, but often use poetic license to communicate ideas beyond mere facts, such as mythical or emotional truths.  Contemporary poet is also concern with keeping the voices of historical persons alive who have passed on. Also, I might add that an occasional poem serves various ulterior motives. One such motive might include informing the audience at the time of present events, often to draw parallels and make a political statement. Other motives might be personal, if poets feel a connection to the historical events they are recording. When history seems relevant to poets’ lives, occasional poetry can be a means for emotional expression just like any other type of poetry.

There is the feeling among Bajans that the physical landscape of Barbados
must reflect authentic Bajan culture. That being said, they also feel strongly that
statues  of National Heroes should be given prime spots on the island.

On this matter, Mr. Matthew Farley has expressed his opinion in a letter to the
Nation News paper on 2/14/08 in which he said: "I am one of those vociferous
Barbadians who believe that Admiral Horatio Nelson has no place in our 
National Heroes Square. I support the Caribbean Court of Justice and, like the
 former Prime Minister, I like the concept of CSME [CARICOM Single Market and Economy]."

Well, Mr. Farley and all like-minded persons here is your epic poem. The synopsis or prologue
to the poem takes the shape of an acrostic stanza. Your real bone of contention that has fuelled
this national debate is identified in this stanza.

Please wait for the continuation

Black History Month in Poetry (1625-1960) - Part One

Small chattel-house where she was born and raised       
In Maycock's village, her ancestral home;
Bare-foot youth on Sunday evenings did walk
Rope leashed black-belly sheep and goats, to graze
Weeds and grass on dust roads, without boardwalk;    
Mindful of cane-fields that grow planters' cash;
As arrowed canes swayed before cropping bash;

Those cane-sucking youths watched Broomfield's sweet teeth
Skinned and strained, sweet crystals in crocus bags;
They lived just a stone-throw from grandma's house;
She sold villagers black pudding and souse;
In enamel plates without paper-bags

Once each month early on Saturday morn                                                                                                                           
The butcher came; slaughtered her homegrown boar,
To prepare for her unique Bajan fare;  
Black pudding and souse she sold with great care;  
Advents stance on this Bajan dish made clear; 
      Leviticus eleven; be aware.


Black pudding and souse I have recipe;
A relic from days of by-gone slavery;
Handed down by grandmother Emily.
Legend says that colonial masters
Gifted to blacks; they owned in this country
Specific parts, carved from their butchered pig:
The head, feet, tail and the offal; Darwinly
They believed, slaves were full of infra dig
That matched, their "fine-china from calabash";

Look at pictures above and toss your mind:
Prime cuts of hog those rich-folks; they did stash;
Feasting on shoulder chops, loin chops, spare ribs,
Bacon, ham and eggs in their  posh housetops.

Back in the village folks are thinking now
How best to make delicious new cuisine
That blends various parts off their master’s sow;
Who among them would do what, when and how?

Maxine was given the pig’s head to clean;
She cut it in two parts and removed brain;
Pam Smith-Skeete cleaned ears, tails and sow's trotters;
Tossing them in iron pot that squatters
Boiling in salt on dried peels from the cane
Cooking done; set aside for meat to cool;
Cooled meat cut in slices off bones in bowl
Of pickle made of salt water, lime-juice,

Cucumber, few red peppers diced, not whole;
Now sits in larder garnished with parsley;
Souse now in pickle marinates coolly;
This dish of ingenious necessity
Waits, for boudin noir trail joints to roll in;
Clean logistics worked out for pudding skin;

Black pudding, English name for boudin noir
Pig's blood captured in bowl with vinegar
Poor pig hangs in the air, head down is silent;
Blood gushed from pig's head like opened hydrant;
On hell's ground pig wailed 'oink, oink damned tyrant';


Not so, just doing the job says Nellie:
Block all clots, we must from sausage entry;
Use cheese-cloth to ward off transmigration,
And stir, stir away, the coagulation;
That bloody blood; don't want it thickening
Tanti now is cleaning the chitterling
Intestines, yanked from monogastric pig;
She cleans filth, slime, fat from guts' swirling jig.
Faecal matter removed entirely;
Meg prepares the casings for black pudding.
Minds boggle, how folks clean well, heaps of gut;                                                   
Water from stand pipe in a small mud hut;

Rounds of guts she cleans meticulously well;
No tips from Department of public health;
Just tips from wise old heads to her did tell:
Cut the guts in equal lengths with clippers;
Rubbing hard with the pads of your fingers
Like when you wash clothes, cut mucous with lime;
Plenty salt and spoon to remove the slime;
Now turn inside out with this cane-trash stick;
Now clean all over again and again;
Blow up guts like balloon so clean and clear
Plunge in salted water for hours remain
For hours henceforth guts steep with salina;
While Marge grates sweet potatoes in tin bowl;
Adds thyme, sweet marjoram, Bajan sugar
With mixed shallots, and dash of clove powder;
Blends bloody ingredients make mixture
Loose consistency, casings will control;
Kay packs casings with mixture not tightly ;
Using funnel, fills casings not fully;
Just like grandma force-feeding her turkey;
Old-fashioned tool; but yet very sturdy;
Ties each casing's ends to make sausage roll;

Coils of sausages in bottom of pot
In boiling water, one hour to squat;
Until potatoes in natural casing
Are as firm to the touch, in the testing;
And are not busting their skins, and burning.

Little did these slaves know that their culinary arts
Would be a dish pleasing so many hearts;
Oinks, joints, blood, tears, of ingenuity
Have made unwanted pig parts, real soul-dish
Where the rich, the middle class and poor folks
Eat, black pudding and souse with much relish;
A bold statement that cut off racial yokes;
Where those folks on tiny coral island,
Gushing waters of true democracy.

Food, a way to most hearts in many ways;
Served on high days, and holidays,
Independence festivals, crop-over and,
Never at Easter, that would be gross.
Black pudding and souse still in great demand;
This soul-food, deep in culture and sucrose.


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Founder of the Barbados Labour Part (BLP) Sir Grantley Adams

Founder of the Barbados Labour Part (BLP) Sir Grantley Adams
Died November 28, 1971 at the age of 73

Founder of the Democratic Labour Party (DLP), Sir Errol Walton Barrow

Founder of the Democratic Labour Party (DLP), Sir Errol Walton Barrow
Died June 1987 at the age of 67



In plenty and in time of need
When this fair land was young
Our brave forefathers sowed the seed
From which our pride was sprung
A pride that makes no wanton boast
Of what it has withstood
That binds our hearts from coast to coast
The pride of nationhood


We loyal sons and daughters all
Do hereby make it known
These fields and hills beyond recall
Are now our very own
We write our names on history's page
With expectations great
Strict guardians of our heritage
Firm craftsmen of our fate

The Lord has been the people's guide
For past three hundred years.
With Him still on the people's side
We have no doubts or fears.
Upward and onward we shall go,
Inspired, exulting, free,
And greater will our nation grow
In strength and unity.


We loyal sons and daughters all
Do hereby make it known
These fields and hills beyond recall
Are now our very own
We write our names on history's page
With expectations great
Strict guardians of our heritage
Firm craftsmen of our fate

The tree that gave Barbados its name

Independent Barbados Shelved Guy Fawkes Night

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Halloween Poetry - Pirates of the Caribbean

Poems for September 11

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(Diastic Reading Through Procedures)
(Reversed Telestich)
No Friendly Sky Anymore
(in Diastic)
No Friendly Sky Anymore
(in Free Verse)
Nine Eleven's Broken Promise
(Iambic Tetrameter abab)
Ode to Sweet Revenge - Ground Zero Never
(in Irregular Ode)

Hello Sweden


Midsummer's Day Exquisiteness

Sample Didactic Poems

Didactic Poetry is intended to convey instruction and
information as well as pleasurable reading. It can assume
the mode and features of imaginative works by infusing knowledge in a variety of forms such as dramatic poetry, satire, parody, among others. There is the popular view that allegory, aphorisms, apologues, fables, gnomes and proverbs are specific types of Didactic Poetry because of their close affinity.

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If Words
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Too Sweet

Royal Wedding Cake for Prince William and Kate Middleton


Limerick Poems



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Laugh it Off
She Asks
Wiener Souse

Barbados' National Festival of Culture July 1 to August 1

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To all the people in New Zealand

Thank God only minor damage has been caused by this 7.0 Earthquake in New Zealand's North and South Islands.

Kia ora

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National Anthems of New Zealand

Anthem 1

Māori Version

E Ihowā Atua,
O ngā iwi mātou rā
Āta whakarangona;
Me aroha noa
Kia hua ko te pai;
Kia tau tō atawhai;
Manaakitia mai

Ōna mano tāngata
Kiri whero, kiri mā,
Iwi Māori, Pākehā,
Rūpeke katoa,
Nei ka tono ko ngā hē
Māu e whakaahu kē,
Kia ora mārire

Tōna mana kia tū!
Tōna kaha kia ū;
Tōna rongo hei pakū
Ki te ao katoa
Aua rawa ngā whawhai
Ngā tutū e tata mai;
Kia tupu nui ai

Waiho tona takiwā
Ko te ao mārama;
Kia whiti tōna rā
Taiāwhio noa.
Ko te hae me te ngangau
Meinga kia kore kau;
Waiho i te rongo mau

Tōna pai me toitū
Tika rawa, pono pū;
Tōna noho, tāna tū;
Iwi nō Ihowā.
Kaua mōna whakamā;
Kia hau te ingoa;
Kia tū hei tauira;

English Version

God of Nations at Thy feet,
In the bonds of love we meet,
Hear our voices, we entreat,
God defend our free land.
Guard Pacific's triple star
From the shafts of strife and war,
Make her praises heard afar,
God defend New Zealand.

Men of every creed and race,
Gather here before Thy face,
Asking Thee to bless this place,
God defend our free land.
From dissension, envy, hate,
And corruption guard our state,
Make our country good and great,
God defend New Zealand.

Peace, not war, shall be our boast,
But, should foes assail our coast,
Make us then a mighty host,
God defend our free land.
Lord of battles in Thy might,
Put our enemies to flight,
Let our cause be just and right,
God defend New Zealand.

Let our love for Thee increase,
May Thy blessings never cease,
Give us plenty, give us peace,
God defend our free land.
From dishonour and from shame,
Guard our country's spotless name,
Crown her with immortal fame,
God defend New Zealand.

May our mountains ever be
Freedom's ramparts on the sea,
Make us faithful unto Thee,
God defend our free land.
Guide her in the nations' van,
Preaching love and truth to man,
Working out Thy glorious plan,
God defend New Zealand.

Anthem 2

God Save the Queen

God save our gracious Queen,
Long live our noble Queen,
God save The Queen.
Send her victorious,
Happy and glorious,
Long to reign over us:
God save The Queen.

O Lord our God, arise,
Scatter our enemies,
And make them fall;
Confound their politics,
Frustrate their knavish tricks;
On thee our hopes we fix:
God save us all.

Thy choicest gifts in store
On her be pleased to pour,
Long may she reign.
May she defend our laws,
And ever give us cause
To sing with heart and voice,
God save The Queen.

Note: The second verse of 'God Save The Queen' is commonly omitted.

Edmund Hillary


Today's Featured Poem in Blank Form

Charlie Douglas
by Bob McKerrow

Guests Poets' Poems


Centre Piece

Centre Piece
Yellow Candles

Ohio Sunrise July 6, 2007

Ohio Sunrise July 6, 2007

Quoting Maya Angelou

Education helps one's case Cease being intimidated by strange situations