Raw Poetry; De Dominican Gift

I was speaking to my neighbour yesterday and talking to him about poetry, he is also a poet, and he said something to me that resonated and influenced my latest poem (wrote it last night). He said a poet must reflect his society and should also be able to speak for the people and about the people. In plain english, a poet should be part and parcel of his community.

So i got to thinking about my country and the hot issues of the day and this poem just glided out of the tip of my pen, off course i had to go back a few times and edit and realign the verses and so forth but i hope the final product does justice and speaks from the Dominican perspective. I also used a lot of Dominican lingo, not really the french styled creole, just our broken english.

So here it is:

De Dominican Gift
By Delroy “Nesta” Williams

Society in a rift,
Blue say is borboll
While red convince is a gift.
So much debate about de bin purchase
And who truly benefit,
Look I hear is campaign money dat trafficking,
An’ me neighbour say cocaine money dey laundering.
But as garbage bin knock down
Look fertilizer issue jump in de boxing ring,
But de poor farmer man, he eh talking
Cuz he love de handout ting.
Yes, de man love de "salt"
An’ he eh care who at fault,
Rubbish bin or fertilizer doh matter to him,
Or if de Big Man wrongly profiting
As long as is de Labour Party dat winning.

Now, Blue looking confident
But inside dey panicking,
An all de rest, dey afraid and shaking
Cuz dey know de PM cunning an’ convincing,
Too much psychology an’ philosophy.
De likle man eh understanding,
Dat wrong is wrong.
Yes, all borboll is borboll,
Whether red, blue or green
In de end is Dominica dat losing.

I cyah wait eh
For de next borboll to expose.
Yes, Boy everyday I listening.
Every morning I tune to Q,
To dat radio station, I man glue
From de moment I rise
Is Matt in de morning
An Saturday, between Me and You.
Till Election Day come and pass,
Then we go see who really win de race
And who come dead lass.

I doh care who win or lose,
Cuz it clear dey all de same
Doing de same damn ting
An one accusing de oda of cheating
But de sad thing is eh,
Dem poor people always along for de ride
Only seeing blue, green an’ red.
Boy, dey really colour mad or colour blind.
I waiting for de election meley
As society continue de rift,
Yes, dat is truly de Dominican gift…