Le muse despaire

I've long since forgotten the sound of your voice
The sound it makes when you're excited or when you've finally solved a problem
Your groans, groans and sounds of glee
The smile that drips off your lips
And the laughter that roars when someone tells a joke

To hear the 'thump thump thump' of your heart and to understand it means life
To see the motions as the wheels turn to propel us forward
Feel the cool whisper of your breath on my arms
The soft caress of you skin
And the gentle touch of your finger tips

Have you left me my dear?
Departed me in such sweet sorrow
Tiny steps ushered through the door
Have you left me my dear?
To travel the road alone

The journey less taken
A solitary path to solitude
Have you forsaken me my dear?
Departed in such sweet regret
Away from the success of me

Have you lost yourself?
Left me to fend the spirits alone
To nurture the mind
To enrich the body
On a single plane

Have you abandoned me?
Lola,
Where does your ego lie?
Shall I truly be left without thee?
The muse that serves my guide

Whereforth?
Shall thou?
Are thouest?
Answer my calls
Surrender to my pleas

Pride

Hey loves,

Guess who has been a busy bee? *raises hand* "Me! Me!" Yes my loves, the med life has taken over and it's getting intense. So much so that I just realized 3 months later that I had not shared with you my last piece of work in the 50 for 50 challenge. Imagine that? The theme was to showcase Jamaica in only 50 words.  ONLY 50 WORDS!!!!! Look how amazing Jamaica is and there is a word limit to expressing how wonderful my country is. It was truly a challenge but I did it and here is the end product. Hope you enjoy!!!! I promise to be back soon.

Pride

Black, green and gold,

Plus a little red to keep it irie

Mannish water and fish tea

Sorrel and drops

Belly haffi full

Nine-night,

Street dance,

Dominoes pon di corner

Football inna di road

Fun haffi have

Hurricane every September

Flooded streets

Combated with helping hands

This is Jamaica.

50 for 50 almost done

Hello hello ladies and gents!

Well my darlings it has been a busy 2 weeks as I'm getting closer and closer to my exams. Expect me to be MIA for the next few weeks. Anyways I want to tell you about the 50 for 50 challenge and guess what? We're in week 9. Can you believe it?! One more week and it's done. It's been a great way to sharpen the saw and challenge my skills so to speak. Anyhoo. I Just wanted to share with you last week's and this week's entries into the competition. Hope you enjoy and feel free to check out others at http://50for50jubilee.wordpress.com/2012

Mirror Mirror by Ornella Green

July 20, 2012 

Mirror mirror

On the wall
Is this what I truly see?
Is this what has become of my country?

When I marched from Stony Gut
For the sake of freedom
Was this what I was marching for?
Is this what Mas George and I died for?

Corruption
Violence
Hatred
Murder

Our children being uneducated
And worse yet
Under-educated
Left to fight in the hunger games

Mirror mirror
On the wall
Where hath thy country gone?
Where hath our love disappeared to?

Has our view been shattered?
Our visions of our future distorted
We are turning 50 and celebrating
But have we truly achieved?

Are we a place to live?
To work?
Play?
Raise families?
Do business?

Are we advancing not only our pockets
But also our minds
Turning our trials
Into triumphs
Our messes
Into messages

Mirror mirror
On the wall

Tell me what you see
Is this what there is?
A future that makes me weep?

Jamaica Jamaica by Ornella Green

July 27, 2012 

I and I is jus’

Jus’ one likkle island inna di Caribbean
Mi sunshine bright
Suh we name wi name wi netballers
Sunshine Girls

My people love dem music inno
All kinda great artist dem come from yah
Mi know yuh mussi hear bout Bob
but yuh know bout Jimmy or Peter or Yellow man?
Wah yuh know bout the Wailers?
Yes massa wi love wi music
Suh wi footballers name
Reggae Boyz

Hurricane try rock mi
Every September mi get one visit
But one weh shook mi
Did name Gilbert
What a way it did mash up mi trees dem
Wash weh mi road dem
Dem all mek song bout it
‘Wata cum een ah mi room’
Di way how di ting treat wi bad

Yahdie conscious wi seh
Ah dat wi always ah pree
Whether foreign or ah yaad
Yahdie words wi seh
‘Likkle but tallawah’
‘Out of many one people’
‘Every mickle mek a muckle’
‘Jack, man, dora mi nuh choose none’
Yes man di whole ah dem tings yah come from fi mi people mout’

Mhmm
Mi is one likkle island
But mi story tall
Cuz when Anansi ready fi land
And spin him web of tales
Or weh yuh hear bout black man, white man and chiney man
All when boyzie decide fi pop style
Yuh laugh and drop dung like mi bobsled team

Mi seh mi hist’ry set
It rhythm nice
But that is another story
Mek wi save it fi ah next time
Cuz it look like them ready fi start di fireworks
50 years free dem seh
I and I

What a way dem brite

Well as you know it's a new week and that means a new Jamaica 50 challenge. Last week I unfortunately didn't place because there was only a top 2 :( Boo! But this week I came back to get the prize so to speak. So the theme for this week is to write a short story based on a Jamaican living abroad and their experiences there compared to their experiences in Jamaica. And that's what I did in Nella zest. Without further ado........Here it goes: 

What a way dem brite

It’s a regular Thursday afternoon and as usual Suzy and Stacy haffi chat pon dif one fi labbrish dem bizness.  What way dem two can chat! Look how long dem deh pon di fone ah waste up di fone bill? How dem can chat suh pon a regular? Lawd have mercy wen dis girl and har fren ah chat. Listen to dem and how dem ah chat chat out mi daylight outta mi night.

Suzy:     Hallo Stacy. Is Suzy!

Stacy:    Wah gwan mi sistren? .

Suzy:     Mi jus haffi hail yuh and keep yuh in di link wid mi bizness

Stacy:    A wah gwan up deh?

Suzy:     Mi seh Stacy what a way dem brite? A weh dem people yah ah chat bout?  Come ah tell mi bout foreign betta dan Jamaica. Fi mi Jamaica? No man dem mussi mad to blertnaut!

Stacy:    A wah yuh nah seh? A wah do dem ediat deh?

Suzy:     Dem tink seh dem betta dan wi wid dem high rise building and dem foreign fashion. Dem feel seh chu dem have yellow school bus weh pick up dem pickney ah dem gate dem betta dan wi. Dem feel seh chu ah dem mek KFC and Burga King ah dem know fi cook? Eehayah dem fool nuh faat. A weh dem know bout rundown, curry chicken and gizzada? 20 years ah ‘Merica and mi seh mi miss sweet sweet Jamdung. Mi miss di ahackee and salt fish, di fry fish and bammy. All di rock cakes mhmmm dem sweet suh til. Mi love jonkunnu festival and jcdc festival. Mi love di Hindepence day parade. Wuss Jamaica ah tun 50 dis yah year yah.

Stacy:    Yes iyah ah brite dem brite. So wah yuh tell dem?

Suzy:     Mi tell dem no weh nuh betta dan ah yaad and mi start describe everyting f idem. Yuh shudda see how dem face lite up and dem ah ooh and ahh wen mi chat. Mi haffi wonder if dem tink seh ah coc’nat tree mi live inna? Or hammack mi sleep inna? Chu dem nuh know seh ah werk mi come fi werk ah nuh lef mi lef mi yaad fi come betta place

Stacy:    Yes my girl gwan chu and promote wi island yes. Tell dem seh annu jus weed wi sell and run wi run like lightning wi live one beautiful life all over wi country inna wi different parishes.

Suzy:     Yes man mi haffi hinform dem sed ways. Heneways girl mi haffi guh back guh werk now. Ah use mi ah use di people dem lunch time fi labbrish. Mi ah guh werk. Lata.

Stacy:    Yes my girl bless up yuh self. Lata.

50 Years Ago

It's is a new week and that means that it is time for a new 50 for 50 prompt challenge. This week the challenge was to write about someone trying to decide what Jamaica needs to do to move forward and it had to be in the form of a short story. Short stories tend to be more a challenge for me because as you know I'm more of a poet, journalist or novelist when it comes on to my writing. But I do enjoy the challenge of remaking my linguistic architecture. Anyhoo, last week I came 2nd so let's see how well I did this week. I will surely keep you posted. And if you want to check out other writers and linguistic aspirants just click the link and check it out. Here

50 years ago when Norman Manley and Sir Alexander Bustamante made the trek into Independence they had but strong hopes and dreams as the backbone for the nation they loved so much. They aspired to develop a country on firm principles, integrity, education, justice and a good financial foothold.

Elsa was but a young girl then. She had just turned 18 and after an entire education system of British Colonial rule she knew little of her country’s history and heritage and more about the colonial masters and their European history. Yet, she entered into the noble profession of teaching with hopes of passing on surmountable knowledge to those soon to come.

So imagine her surprise when she realizes that despite the myriad of changes that have gone on in the world and the newly widespread availability of technology that the world has surely changed but our education system has remained constant.  We continue to stifle the growth of our children’s intellectual development by preparing them to do traditional jobs but not to be innovative in creating jobs. We teach them to be workers rather than entrepreneurs. Why is financial planning and education not popularly taught in schools? How can we expect to have a prosperous economy when our own citizens don’t know how to handle their money?

She wondered ‘how did a country with so much promise end up in such a situation?’ Where we have university graduates who can’t jobs and a people not confident in its government’s abilities to lead and change our future. The fact that every year we have a brain drain of some of our most skilled workers. Who will be left to lead? Why are children having children? Why don’t we have justice for wrong doings? Why? Why? Why? That is all she could ask why?

50 years ago Jamaica showed so much promise for the future and now desolation pervades the atmosphere. When will the change come? Who will rise up and fix all that is broken? Who will amend our education system, heal our financial sector or prescribe more jobs for our citizens? Who will foster creative and innovative minds to make us a sustainable investment? At this point all Elsa can do is ask Who? What? Where? When? Why?

Yuh hear bout wi?

Hey all it's another and that means another writing challenge for me. So last week I came in 4th with my short story and this week under the theme: Jamaica tourist season and with the challenge: Create a character who publicizes or represents Jamaica in an unconventional way I came second. So without further ado here is my poem. I hope you enjoy. And as always comments are welcomed. Also, if you want to see other responses take a look Here

 Yuh hear bout wi?

Ornella Green

Yuh know bout fi mi Jamaica?

Yuh hear bout wi?

Fi mi likkle island

It sweet. It sweet suh til

No man mi nah jus talk bout di beach dem

Mi know seh yuh muss hear bout dat

Mi love di beach

But ah nuh dat mi ah chat

Yuh know weh mi ah talk bout?

Mi ah chat bout wi parish dem

Every single one wid its own identity

Unique to ah core

Yuh hear bout wi city life?

Kingston and Montego Bay

Wid di brite brite lite dem

Weh come alive ah nite

Yuh know bout wi club dem

Weh people guh fi dance and palave dem worries away

Link up wid dem breddrin’

From night til day

Wah bout wi museum dem?

Weh share di whola wi culcha?

Art, music, sport

All finance dem feecha

Yuh did know seh wi have surfing?

Surf team weh ah excel

Meet dem inna Portland or St. Thomas

Yes mi chile dem ah dweet sweet

Yuh dun know seh wi love fi dance

Suh is it ah surprise seh we have a latin culcha?

Latin night wi ah pree

When wi visit di city

Wi ice cream sweet yuh

Unno rank it one ah di bess inna di worl’

Wi jerk chicken and pork unno wah fi taste

Mek yuh lick yuh finga dem to the core

Suh come have one taste inna Jamdown

Ah devon house or ah pan man who deh roun’

Yuh wah know bout wi hist’ry?

Den guh visit Spanish town

Wi fus capital dat inno

And dem building deh still deh roun’

Yuh wah see beauty?

Take one trip roun’

Di North Coast, Hope Gardens, or even Nanny town

Hike up ah Blue Mountains

An’ doa stop dere more ecotourism abound

Come to fi mi island

And learn bout wi

Fourteen parishes

Fourteen identities

One sweet sweet Jamdown

Blessing or Curse by Ornella Green

This is the 4th week in the prompt and the theme was "Heritage". I choose the sub-theme of "Mixed children". And if you want to check out other writers doing the prompts and their work feel free to click on the link: http://50for50jubilee.wordpress.com. So without further ado, here goes:

Blessing or Curse

Ornella Green

Every morning I wake up and do the same thing. I look in the mirror, inspect my features and wonder. Why was I put in this body? Why was I given this skin? Is it a blessing or is it a curse? Is it a badge of honour or a badge of shame?

With a black mother and a white father I’ve come to have the complexion two shades lighter than a chestnut. I have fair facial features from my father’s ancestory. Small beady eyes light-brown in colour, a small curvy mouth and a button nose smack dab in the middle of my neatly proportionate face. On the other hand, my body is that purely of a black woman. With a miniscule stature and a desirably curvaceous body I seem to be the envy of many women and the desire of many men.

The Englishman refers to me as a ‘mulatto’ but in Jamaica they just say ‘brownin’.

“Psst brownin’,” they constantly scream as I walk down the street with my friends.

Ugh, I hate that word. Last time I checked browning was a seasoning and it looked quite black. But still, they persist. But it isn’t their words that bother me. No it’s the meaning behind it. “Brownin’” and “Mulatto”. They both mean the same thing to me: you don’t belong.

Where does my identity truly lie? Is it with my father or with my mother? Is my light complexion considered a diluted black or a darkened white? Where do I lay my loyalties? How do I blend in with anyone when I stick out like a sore thumb? My country’s motto is ‘Out of many, one people’, yet everyone wants to know their identity. Everyone wants a group to identify as their own.

I’ve always been treated differently. As I child I was always singled out from my friends and siblings who were all a bit darker than I am. Sometimes I would be adored and other times scorned, all because I have a complexion that is different. Why?

I stand there, staring at my reflection and wonder. Where do I belong? The question resonates through my mind and ricochets through my body. Where do I belong? This is the internal struggle I face every day. A woman searching for her identity in a world that seems latch on to similarities and cast off all that is different. I peer into my eyes with a stark expression, examining all that I am, rotating once or twice as if trying on a fabulous new gown. And still the answer evades me. Where do I belong? Am I to be embarrassed or proud? Is this a blessing or a curse? To this day the question haunts me and I’m still searching for answers.