(Acrostic Reading Through Procedure of Jackson Mac Low)
Now
do
Flashbacks
cries
Friends
Skies
human
ground
friendly
Covertly
Seas
skies
say
Acts
and
cry
garments
junior
terror
justice
© Paterika Hengreaves
Notes on this poem
Now
do
Flashbacks
cries
Friends
Skies
human
ground
friendly
Covertly
Seas
skies
say
Acts
and
cry
garments
junior
terror
justice
© Paterika Hengreaves
Notes on this poem
No Friendly Sky Anymore
(2011)
The people of the West Indies do mourn with thee
We have watched from the islands of the Caribbean
Glued to television sets in disbelief
The September events
And now with trace of tears still lingering
We do remember
America
We do cry with you because these evil acts
Are for all mankind too
Our hearts do bleed at the loss
Inflicted by terrorists and their boss
These thoughts that you do read
Are real and shall be our lasting nightmare
To be haunted by flashbacks
Of nine-eleven
America attacked
By a gang of more than seven
We with gaping mouths and bulging eyes
Watched planes attacked buildings and towers
Amid the horrible cries
People trapped inside the inferno
With no hope of seeing tomorrow
As their helpless friends and kin looked
To the sky in horror
Yankees and all of us have had enough
Of this terrorist band parading across their beautiful
And noble land
Dressed in garments and wearing a human face
They plotted covertly to zap
The American race
To those families with fallen people
Elsewhere
And at ground zero
America will not stand
For another judgment error
So spoke Bush Junior
And Blair-ringing in
They vowed to hit back terror
In all its shades
By George!
America will attack back
And fight terror in every nook and cranny
And there shall be no cause for you
To murmur to Uncle Sam
Justice, fair play integrated
With all our forces’ might
For in God we put our trust
Because the cause is just
And right.
Paterika Hengreaves
(September2001/Barbados)
Dear Paterika
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed this poem as it flowed so nicely to my inner ear and heart. A lot of satire therein too.
Loved it.
Thanks, Bob