my envelop made it to Spain

this random guy from Madrid, Spain sent me an email about collecting used stamps (I used to be a collector too) and I sent him some Dominican stamps along with a copy of my poetry book: One Room Shack... today, I saw a photo of the envelop I sent him with my handwriting on his blog... so cool, glad that I could have helped with his collection, all the best to him...

Check out his blog and the post here

I should have asked for a Real Madrid jersey in return, lol, just kidding...

The Escape

It's been a while since i've shared a short story in here and although i haven't finished this one, i thought it would be nice to at least give a preview. So here it is, enjoy:

What a day it was, yesterday. Climbing Diablotin was a serious challenge and I was feeling the after-effects. I needed that massage, if only I had taken Cassandra’s advice. I just wasn’t in the mood for all that chit-chat and frankly, I was having second thoughts about this relationship. I understood that she needed me now more than ever but I couldn’t help but be a little bit perturbed by the situation I had found myself in with her. To say I didn’t see that one coming is the understatement of the century. What that had started as a friendly flirtatious conversation during the lunch hour was bourgeoning into an affair of wild proportions. And although I loved being with her, I wanted no part of the repercussions and something told me I should stay far away from her.

But her needy voice and the way she always made herself available to me was a little more than I could fight. She would show up in the staff room just before my class every morning, leaving me love notes; sending me messages on my phone all day long. I had to delete them all as soon as I read them. My girlfriend was such a detective that even the slightest text from a woman warranted an FBI-type interrogation. Shana was on vacation now, thank God, three weeks in Antigua was my dream come true. Some peace and quiet for a change but she had found a way to trouble my mind from across the Caribbean Sea. She called every day, something six or seven times a day. She called my cell phone, the house phone, even the school phone just to keep tabs on me. That drove me crazy. She even had her evil sister spying on me, popping in at my home at odd hours with strange requests for sugar, butter and so forth. Her sister even adopted my car as her personal taxi having me driving her all over Roseau since she was afraid to get her own license.

To be continued...

Alcholic

Alcoholic (spoken word)
By Delroy Nesta Williams

Hi
My name is Nesta
And I'm an alcoholic
That flavoured, fermented drink calls to me
Wakes me up in the middle of the night
And says come, come Nesta take a sip
And before I know it, the bottle is empty 
And all that’s left is a pool of green, smelly vomit
Dyed from the walls of my throat and stomach. 

My name is Nesta 
And I'm an alcoholic
But don’t get me wrong
This isn't an apology
Not a cry for you to want to help me, 
But a scream for you to look around you. 
There’s a lot more like me than you think
But they’re so smart at covering up their habit.
The functioning addict, oh so slick
A drink here, a drink there
Mix it up with all kind of juices,
Put it in all kind of treats
Every occasion is a reason for a drink. 

My name is Nesta
And yes, I love to take a sip,
A shot, a throwback or just straight from the bottle. 
Sometimes I don’t even need a reason
I just wash my dreams down my throat. 
But nobody knows
How often I cry inside,
How many times I've tried
To stop!
But the bottle won't leave me alone
It always wants me for company,
Like the weave on a woman’s head
It has become an extension of me.

My name is Nesta
Oh yes, I love the drink
And Johnny is my very best friend
But we don’t take long walks,
Not anymore!
Because once he’s is in my presence
I can hardly function,
I can barely even talk. 
He takes me by the hand
Pours into the glass in my palm
And down my throat he flows
And before I know it
Johnny is no more. 

I am Nesta 
And I'm an alcoholic.
But just ran out of my AA meeting
Because there’s nothing anonymous about my disease.
I know fathers, mothers, politicians, pastors,
Doctors and even lawyers
That share the bottle,
That love the sugar cane juice,
That can’t function without it,
Makes them forget their world of troubles,
Makes them feel “comfortable” with their sins.
They can just pretend nothing even happened
And go on with their lives,
The bottle cures everything for the night.

My name is Nesta
And I’m just like them
And sometimes I pretend,
That I can’t even remember
The things I did the night before. 
But most times I just play dumb
My feelings turning numb
As I look into the eyes of my wife and kids,
And see nothing but disappointment in their faces.
I want to stop, honestly I do
But every night I keep running back to the devil’s brew. 

My name is Nesta
And I’m not the only one, 
There are millions more like me
And if you’re one of them,
The time is now for it to end.
Before the bottle becomes you
And no one can tell the difference between you two!

Hater

I was bored at work and started to write, this is what i came up with, fresh from my thoughts:

Hater

By Delroy Nesta Williams

They will call me a hater

Cuz I don’t dance to the beat

Of their drum machines

I don’t need to be at every sewo

And sing songs with lyrics

Of people more clueless than me

I don’t need to be copycat “stars”

Who pretend to have it made,

But when the truth comes out

They’re so much more than fake!

With weaves, press on nails, plastic surgeries

Fake teeth and jewelry

Just why all the drudgery

To be a replica

Of a Nicki Minaj

Who is clearly just a mirage!

Fabricated to mislead us all

And wishing to be anything close to real

I truly don’t see the big deal

How they spend all their time

Trying to make it

When they’re only faking it

I’m sorry for those little girls

Who dream of one day being Nicki

The beautiful black “Barbie”

But there’s nothing more tragic

Than a black woman covered in plastic

They will call me a hater

Cuz I don’t linger on the streets

With nothing to do but

Holla at every female that passes

Sizing up their breasts and asses

Or laugh at every foul-smelling, misdirected vagrant.

They’re so misguided, it’s blatant!

But they can’t see it

Too busy caught up in the bling

That they don’t see this things

That the very beggar they mock

Is someone who was once in the same shoes as them

But who took a mis-step.

So instead of giving a helping hand

They laugh as much as they can

Not knowing how easy it is

To switch places and end up in the shoes

Of the man who smells like doo-doo

But they will call me a hater

cuz I’m not a trend

I see more pleasure in being an individual

I’m tired of their pretence

I look like no one else

I’m just happy to be myself

But they look all the same

So I can’t tell the difference

Who is real and who’s synthetic

Yet, they call me pathetic

But if I call them out

And expose their flaws

Suddenly I’m the hater

But they’re just conformists

Who sell out for “swag”

And pretend to be bad

Cuz gangsters get more girls

And the Nerd look is in

So that’s what they gonna do

Even if they don’t know 1 + 1 = 2

And they have no idea

That they just selling themselves short

Boys, girls, it’s time to grow up

But I will tell them plain

They’re just a part of the game

And they are no different

Being led to their doom

And I’m so glad there’s no more room

In this “IN” crowd

Cuz I can’t be a part of this

Where I can’t be myself

Just let me be me

Let me be different

Cuz in the end

All that’s left

Is my difference!

I could go on and on

Cuz rambling is fun

But I gotta go now

I hope you enjoyed my poem

It wasn’t meant to hurt or offend

I just needed to get a few things of my chest

So now that it’s said and done

Peace out my people, I’m gone!

Untitled poem

I almost lost this "gem" of a poem, had it stored in my blackberry and was a second away from deleting it... but still thanks to technology. So now, i'm sharing it, enjoy. I haven't decided on a title yet so for now, it's an untitled poem.

Untitled

By Delroy Nesta Williams

Love songs are like daggers to your heart

When love has left and the situation is tearing you apart.

Late at night when the world is asleep

With only your thoughts to comfort you

While you silently weep.

The moment when you realize all you've lost

And the one that mattered most is no longer around.

Suddenly cognizant that it's all your doing

And no matter your action to mend your heart,

You're left in ruins.

A jigsaw puzzle with a missing piece,

Your heart will never again find peace.

Loneliness is strange company

Comes and go as it feels,

Does as it pleases,

Exposes feelings that you've tried so hard to hide

And you're just hurting inside.

No need to suppress it,

You should try to expose it,

But pride always gets the better of you

And keeps you running from the truth.

You’re afraid of being hurt again,

But you end up harming yourself instead

And there's no one else to blame,

No one can help to mend the heart's pain.

A sea of tears lost in the rain.

No one can decipher your thoughts if you don't scream out

Sometimes what you're thinking isn't enough,

You've got to scream out, you've got to shout,

So someone will take notice,

Help you along love's journey

For it can be a painful road to travel alone,

As the path is unchartered territory…

PDA to do or not to do!

Just finished my latest article, in my column the Chronicles of Nesta. You can find it here: da-finest.com.

It's on Public Displays of Affection, PDA.

Feel free to leave a comment or even suggest topics that I could write on, thanks again.

Nesta

New Poem: Facebook Stalker

Latest poem from Nesta: Facebook Stalker

Dear Miss Beautiful

Excuse me if this seems rude,
I know we’ve never met,
But I’ve been loving you for a while.
Yes, I’ve loved you for a very long time,
Ever since I stumbled upon your Facebook profile.
I took a chance and sent a friend request
And to my delight, you did accept.
I’ve secretly watched all your photos
And I’ve read every status too.
I listen to every single song you post,
I liked that song by Whitney Houston
“I will always love you” the most.
There’s only one thing I detest
I can’t stand your relationship status
It just doesn’t reflect “us”
Those photos of your boyfriend,
Wish I had your password
So I could delete them!
Replace them with just a few
Those I Photoshoped,
Those of me and you!
I look out for you every time I sign on,
Even if it means staying logged on
For hours while doing nothing .
Just the thought of you being on Facebook
Has got me hooked.
I even bought a Blackberry Storm,
Just to keep up with updates of your account.
I check my phone on the hour, every hour
To see if you’re on.
I’ve seen you in group chatrooms
But haven’t uttered a word.
I haven’t mustered up the courage,
Guess I’m not really that brave.
I know I should have started a chit chat
But something keeps holding me back.
Thanks to a “close”friend
I even got your cell phone number too
And I did call
3 or 4 times the other night
The late night ringing
From the unknown caller
I just couldn’t let you know it was me.
I know how things might seem,
I hope I didn’t offend you,
I just wanted to hear your voice.
Even if it meant hearing you scream
Wanting to know who was calling.
I wished you thought it was an outside woman
And create problems with your man
If I can’t be yours in real life
Can I be yours, even if it’s just on Facebook?
Maybe even hi5 or My Space
I don’t use those anymore
But I could always sign up again
Can we just pretend to be lovers?
Promise I won’t get jealous
As long as you don’t post about your real love life.
If I can’t have you in cyberspace or in real life
Then will you wait for me in the afterlife?
I hope you can read between the lines!
It doesn’t have to come to this,
But you leave me no choice.
I can’t understand
Why you wouldn’t want me as your man.
We have the same likes and interests
Listen to the same songs.
I even have a private page,
With “our” pictures on.
That I created just for us
Where we can post about our love.
And no one will ever need to know
It’s between me, you and Zuckerberg
And he would never, ever talk.
Mark’s too smart for that
He wouldn’t want another cyber attack.
So what do you say?
Can I count on you?
I love you.
Yes, I do.
Please tell me you love me too.

From
Your friendly Facebook Stalker