Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Literature students review One Room Shack

Here is another review of my book from two literature students of the Dominica State College. It was a class assignment that they critique a book from a Dominican author. I was very pleased that my book, One Room Shack, was selected. For comments on their book review check Dominica News Online but you can read the entire review below:


It is a rare race of Shakespeares and Walcotts that we live in.


Written by Delroy “Nesta” Williams, One Room Shack, a compilation of the aforementioned poet’s pieces is an initiative to publish his thoughts on an understandable range of topics. Mr Williams, a graduate of the Dominica Grammar School began writing at the tender age of eleven. Williams decided one day to go out on a limb and read his poems at the first Nature Island Literary Festival and got positive feedback; up until that time he was a closet poet. When asked what fueled him to publish a book he said, “Everybody kept asking when I was going to release a book and since no other young people were releasing books I did it to inspire others that they could also do it”


The poems are contemplations on topics such as; love, Dominica, opportunity, patriarchs, comfort objects, dreams, salvation, life and so on. The compilation opens with an acknowledgement of Williams’ humble beginnings in a “One Room Shack” which is essentially its (the compilation’s) namesake and ends with a poem called “Thank You” which shows the poet’s gratitude to his readers or audience for picking up his first book. The poem continues from the title, “For trusting your instinct/Picking up my first poetry book/If you take nothing else/From my rhymes and lines/Remember the spirit within us/At the core is divine.” This is someone who has appreciated his blessings and does not take them for granted. With a mindset like this, Delroy Williams can reach great heights.


During an interview, Williams stated that he wants to evoke feelings of understanding, love, self-pride and hope in readers. This was accomplished with words like ‘Dreams flow away like rivers to the sea lost among the oceans of the world, but a glimmer of hope still exists at the horizon just at the point of the sunset.


Williams’ poems are able to captivate readers as they are extremely easy to relate to. In his poem ‘Father Failed Me’ the lines ‘prison record passed from father to son not hard work, commitment or patience lifelines of past generations but rash, harsh words scarring the soul, as the world turns’ are words that almost anyone can identify with or at least understand. There is a strong Caribbean theme in his poetry; poems like ‘The Wanderer’, ‘Dominica’, Father Failed me’ and ‘De Dominican Gift’ are a few very good examples of the evident Caribbean theme. Although his poems are pretty straight forward they are still profound and able to evoke thought.


One Room Shack Mr. Williams’ first published book is to be launched on the 26th of November at Tiffany’s in Canefield. His second book which is already completed is called Moods and Attitudes. Hopefully and perhaps, his sequential works will be even better than the first as he grows as a writer.


Noting that the poems are not very close to the standards of Shakespeare, Walcott or Yeats, Mr. Williams has a long way to go, as this is a far cry from transcendental poetry. However, just because his poetry cannot compete with the greats does not mean that Williams has not published good poetry. In fact, he should be highly commended for his publication as not many people are brave enough to find means whereby to publish their work and have it stand up to scrutiny.


Written by Tamika Jude and Nellie Jules

Thursday, December 22, 2011

One Room Shack: A review of Delroy Williams’ poetry publication


A few months ago, I had a professional but small media debate with a Dominican columnist, Ian Jackson, about his article in the Sun newspaper entitled ‘Our Youths Simply do not care’. It became intense during a radio talk show where I even requested a recant from the columnist and an official apology t
o the youth of the island. Off course, he didn’t apologize, I wouldn’t have apologized either. But I made the appeal anyway. Now to get to the point, about a month ago I went to his place of work, the St. Mary’s Academy, to provide him a copy of my book One Room Shack. It is my debut publication and I asked him to do a review for his popular column. I was hoping that he would be professional and he proved to me that he indeed was. Let me say, that I had already had other discussions with him since our radio debate so we had already buried the hatchet, well whatever hatchet there could have been since I didn’t take anything that was said between the two of us personally but instead as two strong-willed individuals who had strong but opposing points. Below, is a verbatim of the column as appeared in the Sun, a few days after my book launch, perfect timing if you ask me.


The Review:

The title of this latest poetry collection is interesting; one could say even it’s an oxymoron as Delroy ‘Nesta’ Williams goes way beyond the confines of his One Room Shack to reflect, dream and even question rhetoric or philosophical in content, unveiling the rich potential of the youth leader.

Sometimes he admits being stuck not knowing “which direction to take” in life’s trials. He cries out in words from his soul even while admitting his “burden is mine alone to bear, but I’ll carry it with pride.” He searches for self, identity, love and meaning; he cries for love; he surmises that he ‘wished I coulda make it right’; or to the ‘Untitled’ he concluded that ‘maybe one day, when I’m old and gray, I’ll comprehend”.

Nesta is introspective and deep in his writings and sees a poem even in innate objects as the eye of a “Teddy Bear” who listens to his every complaint. He’s “never one to judge or caste blame” or make demands as others he once loved so dearly in his life.


Nesta’s ‘One Room Shack’ cries out for a listening ear, not just for his own sentiments but for the youths whose father have failed. “Sons slipping beyond rescue now mother cries… while father hides”. Indeed this is a reflection of our own failings as a society to be examples and be there for our sons, in particular.

In Nesta’s own words he craves a “time of seclusion” but wants to stand out; he wants his moment, to shine, “an opportunity to stand out”. Isn’t this the dream of every youth who picks up a musical instrument, goes on stage to perform, or engages in study or some vacation?

Ironically the poet acknowledges some uncertain but wants to “congregate” and be “invisible in the crowd blending in among the mob” in which he finds comfort. For amongst his peers the fears subside. He laments in ‘Tears’ which has been exhausted because there seems to be no more left to quench the desert of pain he feels inside.

“Life can be so cruel” expresses Delroy Nesta Williams; he says so many times we walk away in defeat when victory was moments within our grasp. Nesta can be direct or metaphorical as in dreams where “aspirations washed away by worldly erosion”. Deep stuff for a debut publication.

Nesta is one of Dominica’s youth who once headed the NYC and this seems to be an extension of his work in representing their thoughts, dreams and aspirations, in search of warmth, love, comfort, still elusive to the travelling man”. He finds solace, redemption in his ‘One Room Shack’ at least it’s a place where he feels safe, wanted, belonged.

The title of this collection is so appropriate; as I read through the pages I see it as a representation of physical living conditions of thousands of Caribbean poor families who want to escape win its borders but still find comfort in its confines, for after all home is home; it’s not necessarily a house.

Nesta’s ‘One Room Shack’ is full of contradictions. In his smile there are tears or in his deliberate approach as he evokes imagery and challenges a society to unravel and provide answers to the many of the questions that is tied up in his poetry.

Though an English publication, in ‘De Dominican Gift’ the poet explores the use of dialect in a commentary on the political issues of the day from ‘red, blue and green’ angles. Satirically, he concludes that all this melee and rift “is truly Dominican gift”.

Delroy ‘Nesta’ Williams debut poetry is self published just as many of us who started on this road to put our thoughts to paper. His writing talent goes beyond poetry; he was the 2nd place winner of the Independence Short Story competition.

He dedicates the compilation in honour of his mother. Support him; it’s good work.

Note:
Ian Jackson is an established writer who has published numerous books of poetry and prose. He regularly contributes articles on various aspects of Dominican culture to local newspapers and other publications. His most recent publication is the book entitled “Lyrics and Melody: 50 years of calypso, 30 years of Independence”. Ian is also a popular calypso artist known as the Black Starliner.

I have the newspaper article posted on the wall of my bedroom as inspiration to continue writing... Thanks Ian...

Saturday, December 17, 2011

Nesta's new adventures

I've been really busy lately, doing a million and one things and hoping to do them well too. Just in case you've missed me and wondering what i've been up to, i'm going to update you as I appreciate the people who read my blog, leave comments or just visit from time to time.


So what have I been up to? For starters i've been busy promoting my new book, the One Room Shack and i'm very happy by the positive responses that it has attracted. It's always good to get feedback and so I appreciate it and i'm very happy when persons tell me that they have enjoyed my work. Don't worry, One Room Shack will be followed up by a second book, Moods and Attitudes, i'm already putting the finishing touches on that one. I am thinking of including a few more poems in it before publishing in the summer of next year, just in time for the Nature Island Literary Festival. Be sure to look out for the book and off course, the festival as well.


I have also started a facebook page, to promote myself as an artist instead of simply having a facebook account. Someone mentioned that it would be a more professional approach to my writing and promotion of my work if i created a page. It's been created for just over a week now and I have just over thirty (30) likes, i.e. people following it's content. I am hoping to have it up to fifty (50) before the new year, baby steps I keep reminding myself. If you would like to follow the page, just click Nesta


In the midst of all that, I have also started a column for an online magazine, Da-Finest, do check it out. The column, The Chronicles of Nesta gives me a chance to broaden my readership and also tackle issues and ideas that I haven't done or didn't think of doing through my blog. I won't abandon my blog, not at all, this is my fir... well second love, behind my poetry off course. If you want to check out the column's latest entry and leave comments or suggestions, then click here: The Chronicles of Nesta.


There are a few more things that i'm working on but once they are concretized you can be certain that i will post an update here.


Thanks again,


Nesta.

Friday, December 16, 2011

Street Walking

So last night I was feeling bored and depressed and couldn't think so one of my friends suggested that I talk a walk. I went to look at a football game but 15 minutes after I got there the game was done.

So still feeling bored and depressed, I decided to walk through the streets of Roseau. I must reiterate that this is a normal thing for me, although I never really do it when I’m in such a down mood.

Roseau was quiet, as it normally is, with only a few people and vehicles. It was a perfect night for a stroll, or dwivay as we say in créole, except for the cold breeze that seemed to follow me everywhere. I started to think about everything and nothing all at the same time. A million thoughts ran through my mind and in trying to make sense of it all, I started to rhyme. I started to smile too, when I realized that I was creating a poem from my random thoughts. So I took at my blackberry phone, I never leave home without it and started to just jot down my thoughts and arranging them as I walked along the dark streets.

The poem is as much about my thoughts as it is about the streets of Roseau itself... Those of you who know the city at nights may attest to that once you've read the poem. So here it is:


Street Walking
By Delroy Nesta Williams 


Street walking got me thinking,
Got me realizing,
That everything in life isn’t as it seems
And though we may look for the good all around,
Sometimes only the negative can be found...
It's times like these that we need to be strong...
When we feel like our world is crashing down...
When your screams go unheard,
Everyone is busy is their own world...
How can this be my reality?
So much negative encircles my positivity...
Street walking is leading me to this unknown destination,
The beginning of nowhere,
Hope I end up somewhere,
Where my tears of words will find the tissues of ears...
And life begins to make sense again...
My sole request as I make it thru these lonely streets and dark alleys,
That life won't leave me lonely...
That someone will join me along my journey...
To hold me up when I get knocked off my path,
To give me a joke when I need to laugh...
I'll return the favour too cause I know you'll need me soon,
When life tries to upset your mood...
Street walking got me listening to myself and the sound isn't good,
It is like speaking out loud but drowned out in a crowd...
Street walking gave me a chance to exhale,
Now I can breathe freely, inhibitions out of my system,
Putting things in perspective, no longer dejected,
Street walking works and all is not lost...
All is well, out of street walking comes a story to tell

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Michael Xavier feature


Every now and then I feature a poem by someone other than myself. I do it for various reasons. I might know the person, the poem might have been an inspiration to me or just because it got my attention...

This time around I am featuring a poem by Michael Xavier whom I met during the Commonwealth Caribbean Youth Leaders Summit when I was still the President of the National Youth Council of Dominica. He is actually from Guyana and is a very talented person but never knew he was a writer. In fact, I know him as a field hockey player, although I must admit I have never seen him play but he must be good because he is on the Guyana Team.

To get back into the poem now, he sent me a love poem to get my opinion and then sent me the featured poem as a second example of his writing but what was to ensue would surprise even me. We started to freestyle (all this in a Blackberry group with other friends from across the Caribbean) and we just vibed for what seemed to be like almost an hour or even longer. He calls me the Boss of Poetry but i'm telling you he impressed me with his skill and wordplay as well...

He calls the poem Contradiction by that too is a contradiction as i prefer to just call it Untitled as I personally feel the title doesn't go the piece justice... well enough of my rambling now, enjoy the piece and feel free to suggest a title if it evokes one from you:

Contradiction

Blackened skies the place is cold
Saddened cries there's no one here to hold
Droplets of rain fall like tears from my eyes
Like our love washing away from all the lies
You stop, stare and breathe for a while
But there is no hint of happiness no reason to smile
For a love once had is now lost
All disappeared at an unworthy cost
Unbearable it seems, this pain I never felt
My heart grew heavy on my knees I knelt
Wishing and hoping all for a better day
Face buried in my hands, only realizing there is no other way
For no matter how hard I try or loud I shout
This time its over, our fire is out
Happiness blooms like flowers in the spring
A fire kindles like an infant bird stretching its wing
Blue skies reveal smiles that warm the heart
Like a symphony orchestra each performing brilliantly their part
In such a way that brings peace to mind
Like our love, it’s one of a kind
It’s together forever, to never be alone
A love found, it is cast in stone
To brave the storms and endure the cold
Never on your own, my hands to forever hold
And I’ll have it no other way; it will all be for you
It’ll be like a fairy tale ending, but for us, it’s true.

And before I end this note, here is a piece of my freestyle poetry in the Blackberry group (I was asking the other members of the group to join in):

Where's Jason and Ato?
I'm waiting on them to join in
If I wait to long my words will start spoiling
Are they in their rooms hiding?
In fear, that they won't be able to keep up
This isn't a competition
Just a chance to speak up
So raise your voice
Make the right choice
Join in singing the chorus
or just write a verse or two...
If your name is Jacque then add your heavenly touch
we expect very little or so very much
I would like Feno to add her ten cents,
When she speaks she awakes my every sense
Where's Bella? the one I want to meet
She's always in here, I hope she joins this track meet
Run the mile, keep hope alive
Who have I forgotten, I hope no one
because we will need all the manpower to sing this song
This anthem most be heard, in the nooks and crannies
Spread the word to the youth, grandpas and grannies
Spread the word to all and sundry
But please do it cheaply
Because the youth aint got much money, lol
and the rest as they say it, is history

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Short story performance

I think I have found my performance niche... I don't really like performing poetry, don't like doing plays (never remember my lines) but reciting short stories... now that's my thing.

I hope I'm not rushing to conclusions here but I have a good feeling about it, plus I got some positive feedback. I just need to give it some positive attention and work on my craft a bit, get used to it, voice training and so forth and then i'm good to go, I think.

You might be wondering how I came to this judgement so here goes the story. I recently won second place in the Dominica Independence Literary Competition where I submitted a short story called Hair On My Chest. The prize giving ceremony was tonight and as part of the showcase, the awardees had to recite an excerpt from their story and let's just say i really enjoyed myself on stage.

The video may not impress you but I have truly come a long way and I am confident that if I devote some time and energy to it, I can get a lot better. Anyway, you be the judge. The video isn't the best quality, I used my trusted blackberry phone so listen closely.



I have already secured a second performance and will be at the Anchorage Hotel on Thursday 17th November, 2011 as part of Word, Sound and Power - Teen Expression.


See you there!

Sunday, November 6, 2011

give me something to write about...

So I was feeling bored tonight, just browsing through facebook and I had this idea, so I put out a request for my friends to suggest a topic for me to write a poem on:

Here is the status: I need to write something, give me a topic, any topic, I need to write a line, a verse, a rhyme... something metaphoric or even a simile... I need to write something, somebody suggest something quick...

and Rude Gyal Casimir suggested the topic that I wrote on (took me about five minutes to write it):


Why do you want to bring me down?


Inspired by Anelia Casimir



Is it jealousy?


Why the envy?


I just don’t understand


You don’t even know my story


But you would want me to be history


I’m not rich


I’m not even that beautiful


Only smart enough to fool you


For you seem to feel the need to covet me


Resentment for what?


In spite of all that


I shall rise about it all


And even offer a hand


To get you off the ground


For it must pain you to feel you’re beneath me


When I only see you as an equal


I wonder where this all comes from


Is it me that you hate?


Or what you think I have become


I wonder if it isn’t just greed


That makes you see me this way


Or maybe even foolish desire


Because you feel the need to just like me…



Do enjoy...

Monday, October 31, 2011

2nd place - not that bad

I keep surprising myself everytime I take a chance with my writing. Firstly, my book has been a huge personal success and i'm not judging based on sales but solely on the positive feedback that I have gotten from the people who have read One Room Shack. Now I find myself getting some awesome news on my way home today.

My aunt told me that she heard my name on the midday news. It's not a big deal to me as I am always in the news but lately I have been quiet, not really in the spotlight as before. She continued to tell me that I had won 2nd place in the short story competition. To be honest, I had even forgotten that I entered the competition. I did so without any thoughts of winning - expecting more seasoned writers to come away with the top prize - but secretly I wanted to win.

Well I didn't really win but I am still happy with what I have managed to accomplish, 2nd place isn't that bad and to think it was my very first submission in the short story competition, my very first short story too.

So here is the short story: Hair On My Chest - it was already available on my blog and I had gotten some positive feedback about it, hope that you enjoy reading it and as always, I would like some constructive criticisms if available.

Thanks again and do enjoy.

Nesta

N.B. the short story is actually an excerpt from my first novel, David and I, soon to be published... I hope

Saturday, October 29, 2011

Untitled and Unfinished

Just like the title of the work, this poem will remain untitled and unfinished... because I wish it so:



Untitled and Unfinished




I miss our midnight phone calls


Those private conversations


That always put me to bed


You knew just what to say


I remember every word too


The ability of my mind


To retain your words


Every pronunciation


Yes, every enunciation


Still etched in my brain


The sound of your voice


As the cold wind blew


Through the trees outside my window


The ability of your mind


So great, so sublime


Knowing just what to say


Calming my ruffled nerves


Getting me to see things beyond myself


The world through your eyes


This is all gone, here and now


all I do is twist and turn


Can’t even lay down my head


Or close my eyes


For, I see your face


I hear your voice


You haunt my nights


Like howling ghosts


Harrowing at me with such guile


That my neck hairs stand up with pride


At full attention


Unwarranted celebrations


The independence that I wanted


So dependent on your presence


I’ve made a mistake


I know it now


But this ego of mine


Won’t let me apologize


So I continue to bear this agony


Sleepless nights, helpless days


I accept it as fact


But won’t sound the words


That you were my better half


So incomplete that I malfunction... (to be continued... maybe)

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

my poem is featured in Caribbean Youth Vibes

My poem Teenage Pregnancy is featured in the October issue (no. 25) of Caribbean Youth Vibes newsletter on page 8. The newsletter is developed and distributed by the Commonwealth Youth Programme Caribbean Youth Centre and focuses on youth issues and activities within the Caribbean region.



To get a copy of the magazine, download here



To submit your articles or stories in future issues of the newsletter, please contact:




Natalie Yearwood


Communications and Information Assistant


Commonwealth Youth Programme


Caribbean Centre


Homestretch Avenue, D'Urban Park


Georgetown, GUYANA


Tel: 592 226-3064/8565 Ext 25


Fax: 592 226-8371


website: www.thecommonwealth.org/cyp


Elesha is a writer too

This week I'm featuring a poem from my long, lost cousin Elesha Kelian George (Faustin). I came across her poem/note when I was browsing through Facebook... yes, I'm a Facebook junkie... a minimum of three to four hours a day too.


Now to get back to my cousin, I didn't even know she writes at all, my family has a way of keeping their talents locked up in a closet... especially my sister Ezra George, who I must admit is even more talented than i am, she just needs to take some time to construct her thoughts.


Well to get back to my cousin, here is her poem/note:


You're Just Not Good Enough


Who am I today a vagrant gone astray
Maybe an angel on the good days
Am I black or am I white today?
A thousand back lashes screaming you're Just Not Good Enough either way!

Is my nose too wide, my hair too tough
My feet's too big and hands too rough
Is it that I'm Just Not Good Enough??

Being loved, feels like I'm hated
On those dark days not even affiliated
The ones who's suppose 2 care
Can't even be there...
Won't play their part
Unaffected by the fact that they played your heart...Just Not Good Enough to be a part of their selfish pipe dreams
That they hold so close to their heart
Pushing you farther apart with the notion that you're Just Not Good Enough!

To be in their life
To be their dreams
Not Even Good Enough to be in their schemes!??
Wonder girl or I wonder girl??
That this life did a number on you
Tried to make a number out of you
One more addition to the statistics of being Just Not Good Enough...

With life being a choice and death being a decision,
Like Wizzy said I guess I gotta make a decision!
To live like the angel that I envisioned
Or to be part of your trapped vision
Its time to rid myself of u, circumcision
Refused to be tied to the lies that I'm Just Not Good Enough!

This day I'll Be More Than Enough
My unattainable dreams as you so refer them will not be handcuffed
Your thoughts or image of me and who you think I should or shouldn't be
That decision was never up to you
And now I know better!

I'm sitting here having a break through
You'd see me grinning and can't figure out why, after you've tried to
Erase the crises of the corner of my smile, I still smile!!
My chalk white teeth blinding
Like a thousand suns, the ones you tried to burn!!

(Ahahahahahahaha) x2

I start laughing hysterically at the thought that you thought you could wipe away my joy! Peace of mind and serenity!!
You're looking at me wide eyes, going crazy!!
Don't you know that you can't burn the sun!??

The sun will shrivel you to nothing
Like the nothing you made me feel
All these years and I used all those tears to OUSTED your fire!
And heat up my burning desire to live
And live FREE of you and what you made me out to be!
A liar! A thief! A killer and drug dealer
I was bitter as HELL just where you wanted me too be!
But I overthrew Hell's fury over your ills of me!
The pain melted away!
Because hell's fire is HOT!!!
And I felt the heat all the life you wanted for me!

But I'm to blessed to stay in this mess
Heaven sent I am, the redeemer of your past and the psychic of your future
I was not meant to be at the bottom of the food chain
I am beast with brains..a MONSTER!
I am to be feared loved and respected
Not something you can stand on but someone you can stand along with
Through the hours of the day and horrors of the night
I am like a Phoenix!
I burn then I RISE!

Written by: Yours Truly
Elesha Kelian George a.k.a Elapop

Copyright ***


Click here for more of her notes/poems



Saturday, October 8, 2011

Rambling

Rambling





Every now and again I start a poem that I just can't finish so I put them in a pile. I have folders full of pieces of poetry, sometimes I manage to put two or three of them together and they fit so well together and form this magical unit but tonight is not one of those times, lol...

I’m just going to share a few of my ramblings... some about love, I know, I know... as much as I don't want to admit it, love does find itself in a lot of my poems and notes. So here are my latest ramblings:

Rambling No. 1

I just love that girl,
wish I could tell her so
but she's so preoccupied with the world
busy behind the bling and the finer things
clothes, cars and the diamond rings.
she can't see far beyond all that
I’m willing to give her all of my heart
so quick to ride with the biggest baller
she can't even hear me when I holler


Rambling no. 2

I keep looking at your profile pic
looks like you've got the sweetest of lips
I wanna stare deep into your eyes
look within your soul
hold you tightly in my arms when you're cold
I hope I do one day
gives me something to look forward to
dreaming of tomorrow, today

Rambling no. 3





I want my damn rib back


Why you may ask?


Because I’m tired of being under


attack


Men this and men that!


Nobody ever offers us our gift back


I want back what is mine


I may be selfish; I may come off as conceited


But have any women ever said thanks


No, not once


You would think something is due us


That a female would acknowledge the sacrifice


Leading to their very existence





Rambling no. 4





So much promise


But no purpose


Can’t see myself


Far beyond the present


Need a change


An out of body experience


Don’t like the image


Staring at me in the mirror


This sense of isolation


Sunken in sudden depression





You might just see these pieces in future work of mine…





Remember I warned you!

18 to Life

I want to apologize because I havent blogged in a while, i've just been so busy writing skits and poems that i didnt find the time but i just wanted to share this poem, would appreciate some feedback, please. It's kind of raw and I haven't really looked at punctuation as yet...




18 to Life


by Delroy Nesta Williams





I got 18 to life


And I didn't do the crime


I got 18 to life


Forced to serve the time.


From the moment of birth,


Wasn’t given a chance on this earth


And i'm stuck with this prison sentence


Somebody, tell me what's next.


How can I make amends?


Restitution is for some, not all?


Who will help me overcome?


Stuck here for 18 to life


Simply because I was born poor,


Because my mother didn’t wait.


She spread her legs; victim to my father’s bait


Now she’s left with this little baby


All on her own.


18 to life,


How will she cope?


No job, no man and a little boy


And welfare really doesn’t care.


So I’m stuck here


Trapped within this prison


She was barely a child herself


Where was my father figure?


Surely couldn’t have been this sperm donor


And then they wonder,


How I got 18 to life


Without yielding a gun or knife.


I cry myself to sleep at nights


At the thought of living out my life


Within these broken down walls


I wake up in the early morning


Afraid to open up my eyes


If only I could move away.


But I’m rooted to this place,


Like a tree planted by the rivers


Ohhhhhh; What a rat race.


18 to life


And for what?


Simply because of my birth place.


I need to find a way out.


I will come back for you, mommy


Oh yes, that’s a promise.


Without a doubt...


I’m not sure when as yet,


But by these hands


I’ll break down these walls


Because I can’t stand the fact


That I might be stuck


In the ghetto all my life.


I just can’t serve 18 to life...

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Mimi, my cousin

I hardly ever talk about my family on my blog... I don't know why either, guess I never really had a reason too or it just kind of slipped by mind.


But either way I am proud to present my cousin to the world, lol, well at least to my friends who follow my blog. I am sure that the "world" know about her more than I could promote her, seeing that she is doing her "thing" in Canada. She recently launched into singing and sent me this gem of a song "Love's Intersection" where she is featured in a song with Blackheart. He has done songs with J. Cole and Drake, household names for those who follow R&B and Rap Music.


So check out the song


and just in case you enjoyed this one, like I think you will here is a bonus track, just because I appreciate my followers and i'm proud of my cousin too.


congrats MIMI and continue making us proud...

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

New poem; Ghetto Yout Song

Just finished this poem and wanted to share it as soon as I was done... do enjoy



Ghetto Yout Song




I mean no disrespect


But wat de fuck do you expect?


Dis is de truth


An nothin’ but de truth


Tings jus too damn hard for de youts




Went to de bank to take a loan


De officer ah watch me up and down,


Like I come tief at his home.


Jus tell me I cyah get de money


Instead of pretending every ting nice


Dis not no land of milk and honey.




How dis poor ghetto yout


Ah get collateral, ah get land paper?


De man gimme de run around,


De system send me a rob an tief,


Cuz I tell him a Pound mi born


Ah Roseau me come from.




Where de bed of roses?


So nothing for de poor, black yout?


Best I tief a ting for true,


Sell a pack or two.


Is dat de system ah send me to do.




There’s anger in my voice,


Cuz I doh have a damn choice


Dey pushing me against de wall,


All I can do is scream an bawl


Hoping someone will hear my call.




Someone, come to my rescue


Lead me from dis place, so destitute.


Is not like I want to commit a crime


But dere might jus come a time,


When that’s all I can see


As my way outta dis misery.




I need to help myself,


Somebody tell me what’s next


What should I expect?


When all I want is some real respect!!!

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

ONE ROOM SHACK released




PRESS RELEASE



ONE ROOM SHACK, the debut poetry publication from Delroy Nesta Williams, comes from a special place, his heart. And within his heart is a myriad of issues and ideas that were egging to get out. One Room Shack can be described in one short phrase, simply special. Special not only because it is the first book from the author but also as a dedication to the “mothers” that have influenced Nesta’s life.


The poems address various issues including poverty, failure, personal struggle, “faith and hope… but the greatest of these is love.”


Mr. Williams is the Immediate Past President of the National Youth Council and by all accounts an advocate for various youth issues, some of which come through clearly through his poetry. He attributes his love of poetry and writing from an early exposure during his high school years at the Dominica Grammar School and his interest in creative arts.


ONE ROOM SHACK contains poems and thoughts that all can comprehend and take as words of discovery, wisdom, comfort, warmth and inspiration. The book also signals a transitional and developmental stage in his writing and personal life as well. We encourage you to share in the moment and make it your own.


FREE EXPRESSIONS POETRY COMPANY is proud to release this publication, ONE ROOM SHACK, Delroy Nesta Williams’ labour of love to the World…



For additional information please contact:


FREE EXPRESSIONS POETRY COMPANY


56 LIME STREET, BATH ESTATE


ROSEAU


COMMONWEALTH OF DOMINICA


cini26@hotmail.com


1 (767) 615 5881


Friday, August 26, 2011

I'm sorry Mr. Jackson... you are so wrong...

Response to Commentary by Ian Jackson


I read with great eagerness the article penned by Ian Jackson in the Sun Newspaper of August 22nd, 2011 titled “Our youth simply do not care” only to be disappointed in the facts as stated and in the rash conclusions drawn from a poorly researched commentary. It felt more like Mr. Jackson was venting his disappointment than being objectionable in his criticism (I was expecting them to be more of a constructive nature). Maybe, I too, had too high of an expectation and for that I apologize to the writer.


Mr. Jackson goes on to use the example of the attendance and polling results at the National Youth Council of Dominica’s (NYCD) General Assembly as a primary example that the results “confirm the youth’s denial of themselves and their inability to organize and certainly a lack of motivation and direction as a unit.”


I would like to honestly ask Mr. Jackson: how does one (1) National Youth Council’s General Assembly election confirms that youths do not care? I see this as more of a social issue than a mere youth issue. If we look at the other elections, i.e. village council or by-elections, what is the voting trend? Is there a massive turnout of voters? The greater issue at hand is the fact that the youth get pigeonholed to a social (general) issue to give it significance, using young people as scapegoats, something that this writer has also done in his “Internet Children” calypso.


What troubles me about the writer’s assumption is that the he uses one instance to generalize about the entire youthful population. Every objectionable writer knows that generalizations are made based on trends as observed through data analysis usually other a significant period of time and not on one instance, especially when it pertains to human behavior and attitudes. This gut feeling analysis holds no water, like straw baskets.


To sit idly by and generalize on the state of youth affairs and their behaviors from second hand accounts (Mr. Jackson wasn’t present or hasn’t been present at a General Assembly of the National Youth Council in over five (5) years) is misleading and a rash judgment.


It feels like the judge has tried the defendant even before viewing the evidence at hand, a clear case or irrational analysis of the matter at hand.


I feel this article is disrespectful to those who worked tirelessly at the National Youth Council, often with little or no support from the “adult” population. This article also belittles the achievement of Miss Fenella Wenham (not Miss Jonella Williams) in becoming the first female President of the National Youth Council.


The article goes on to say that “one can’t say that we hear the voices of the youth on issues of national relevance such as Voters versus National ID cards or debates and discussions on integrity in public office… have they organized marches to sensitize their peers on AIDS or are they waiting for adults to do it for them?


These statements clearly come from someone who isn’t in touch with the realities especially as it relates to youth involvement in national and social issues. The National HIV/AIDS Response Unit will attest that the NYCD and other youth organization, groups and clubs have been key partners, stakeholders and participants in a number of their activities and have themselves of the past five (5) years organized numerous debates, discussions, marches, paraphernalia distribution and the likes with regards to HIV/AIDS awareness.


I can also point to more than one occasion where the NYCD openly and freely discussed the issues of National verses Voter ID, unemployment, crime and violence and various other societal ills on state and private media. Young people do discuss these issues and many others too but Mr. Jackson must also be aware that there are more avenues for discussion now than before and simply because the radio/television sources are not the chosen sources for youth doesn’t mean the absence of meaningful discussion.


I honestly think that the article should have given as much focus and credence to the other “school of thought” and should have even explored the influence of the behavior and attitudes of the “adult” generation on the “sewo” generation. Again it shows that adults are quick to judge youth without realizing that they are as much to blame for their attitudes and behaviors.


The outcomes and conclusions from a more concrete analysis would have been more fruitful and would have garnered more respect from me.


Clearly the author of “Internet Children” didn’t want to wait for it, or work hard to build his conclusion, he wanted his judgments now and he didn’t want to work for it!


There is more to be concerned about in this article but I think these points are enough, at least for now.


Delroy N. Williams


Concerned youth




Wednesday, August 17, 2011

An Amen?

My newest/latest poem:


An Amen?



So can I get an Amen?


Now that straight men


Walk crooked like gay men.


When laymen get to lead


And the skilled take a back seat,


Just what do you expect?


When those who should show respect


Those who fought for these ideals


Suddenly in 2011 become speechless!


When we are only loud


In the comfort of our homes,


But become ants


When in the land of ‘giants.’


We shrink in morality


To offer others comfort for their atrocities.


We have clothed immorality


In so many garments,


We can’t even decipher


If it’s natural or synthetic,


Oh how we’ve become so pathetic!


How the biggest and the brightest


Can be lead to their doom


By the ruthless


And just sit by in silence


When we flock to the radios


As agents of deception and miscommunication


Instead of enlightenment and education.


We spew words of hate and animosity


Fostering this state of injustice and injury.


When the courts rule with selective authority


A poor man doesn’t stand a chance,


If the legal system functions by happenstance.


I’m afraid some will take justice into their own hands


What then will happen to this land?


So now can I get the AMEN?