Tuesday, December 18, 2012

The Letter


My heart raced as I reached for the door and made that knock. Is this the end? I wondered. My thoughts were drenched with fear. I could feel my heart pulsating rapidly against my chest as his voice echoes in my head. Oh, that monster! Oh how I dread him. I know that he hates me. Why -did my parents send me here?
As I stood behind the closed door, my mind went back to that day; my last visit to his office.
It was on a Monday morning, the beginning of spring. Everything was in full bloom. The plants and the flowers glowed with the early morning dew. The birds seemed extra cheerful as they chirp the sweetest melodies known. At school, even the students seem to be enjoying this glorious beginning, as they continuously hoist themselves like wild animals on the sides of mountains.
That was when it happens. It was nothing short of miraculous. “It must be blamed on my reflexes. How could I have known that he would have been injured so badly? I just gave him one fist on the chin…Just one hit sir. Just one hit!”
“I will have none of that of you young lady, to my office immediately!” Mr. Johnson, the school principal barks. “You are self-conceited and wicked. If there is a re-occurrence of this act, I will have you expelled immediately,” he continues.
Those words haunt me as I heard my name echoed over the microphone.
“Tempest Rampassard, please report to the principal’s office immediately!”
What have I done wrong this time, I wondered? My parents will kill me if I should get expelled. Oh no! What have I done wrong, I questioned as I choked on my hidden tears.
As I stood in front of the huge mahogany door, cold sweat began to rush down my face. My mouth went dry and my hands trembled. I was overwhelmed with fear as I patiently await my judgment. How could I possible face this red eyed monster? He will rip me to pieces with the sharp edges of his tongue.
As I stood there my mind was mesmerized by the hypnotizing thoughts of a horrendous, vindictive, ghastly red eye monster that was blood thirsty and wants to rob me of my life. Should I run away? Should I stay and wait for the out-come? These and many un-answered questions flashed across my mind.
As I pondered on the various options available I made a sharp abrupt knock on the door.
“Yes, who is it?” was the emotionless respond from behind the door.
“Tempest sir, Tempest Rampassard,” I said in a stuttering voice.
“Come in child,” was the familiar husky sound of Mr. Johnson’s voice.
I opened the door and walked in a slow motion towards his desk. Mr. Johnson with his back forever straight, strides across the luxurious carpet in his office; which bounced back into position after the pressure of his feet, with purposeful steps, moved towards his desk. He folds a paper meticulously that was lying on his desk. He then reaches for his black leather briefcase and places the letter in one of the side pockets. He then flashes his hands at me in a wavy motion, pointing to a seat in-front of his desk.
Sit! He said. His voice was low, but seems to possess sharp cutting edge.
He then reached for an enveloped that was on his desk and handed it to me. “Give this to your parents” he said sternly.
My fingers trembled as I took the envelope from his hands.
That evening after school nothing seems to be normal. As I hurried home from school my spirit sank as I thought of what that letter entails. “How will my parents react?” what will they say? What will become of me?
That evening I went to bed early. I heard when my parents entered the front door but I pretended to be a sleep when they knocked at my door.
During breakfast the following morning the atmosphere seems dense. You could feel the tension as everyone was dead silent. I tried to read my parents facial expression but it seems blank. Did they see the letter, what will become of me? I wondered.
The fear of my unforeseen fate was soon to be ended as my father broke the silence. “Congratulation my child, you have won, you have won the Miller’s family scholarship for your outstanding academic performance. Hard work, dedication and discipline are truly the keys in attaining success my child. You have truly made us proud.”
I fainted.
 Nordia Lewis
(Class of 2012)

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Andrea Bocelli performs "Romanza"



This video was presented in our class today!
What are your thoughts on Italian music?
How poetic was it to you?
What does it say about the Language of Poetry versus the Poetry of Language?

RE your Final Exam

So the final exam is on the 5th of December and if you have been looking at your calender that is next week Wednesday. The timetable places it @ 8:30 am in the Main Chapel.
The exam consists mainly of two sections.

Section A is objective like and consists of the information that we have been looking at in our text and the sectionals about Poetry and Fiction for the past weeks in the semester.
Section B consists of analysing our own personal pieces. One poem of choice and our short story, these should be printed and taken to the exam and attached to the paper at the end.

REMEMBER it is not a justification of why you chose to write that poem or story, but it is a critical analysis of whether or not your work fits the category, of "what makes a poem a poem" and "what makes a story a story."

GOODLUCK!

Sunday, November 25, 2012

Crazy Love


Love isn’t love if it’s not shared
It’s sort of like a magic penny:
You put it in your pocket and you aint got any
Isn’t that weird?

So, I want to share my love with you
Not the type of love that inexperienced wanna-be love
Gods sing about
But the mad crazy love
Not the kind that grace or TV screens
Or the kind in romance novels
I said, it’s crazy love
The love that makes you high sort of walking on cloud 9
The love that bubbles in your heart like a volcano ready to
Erupt
I want to love you crazy
Like teenagers love cell phones
Like … like Cupid loves his bow
Like God loves the church
Like animals love spring
Like a groom loves his virgin bride

I want to love you more
More than Carl Marx Loves communism
More than Rastafarians love High Grade
More than Americans love their constitution
MAD SICK HEAD NU GOOD kind of love

The love that makes you smile for just remembering
The love that makes you nervous if you are forgetting
Sounds crazy eh?
That’s because it’s crazy love

The kind of love that when you hear a song…
It makes you bite your lips and curl your toes
YEA… CRAZY, CRAZY LOVE

I want to love you more…
More than ghetto people love gossip
More than politicians love scam
More than I love to nyam
More than Michael Angelo loves painting and waiters love Waiting

More than Shakespeare loves staging
More than pastor’s love preaching and teachers love Teaching

CRAZY, GRAZY LOVE
Yes, I want to love you more…
More than Mozart loves the piano
And Bach loves the concheirto
More than Patti La Belle loves to sing
And Laborites love to ring
I want to love you BAD
Like Vybz Kartel loves slackness
Or Maya Angelo loves blackness
Yea……………
Like a dentist loves cavity
And Jamaicans love poverty
Like Louise Bennett loves Patois
And beauty queens love the camera

I want t love you STINK
Like the smell of pungent cow dung on a cool early
Morning
Like scratching you malodorous toes after a hard day at
Work
That’s crazy, CRAZY LOVE
I want to love you SWEET
Sort of like whip-creamed strawberry and a sip of dry white Wine
Like lighting scented candles and makes you a peach
Scented bubble bath

While listening to the beat and the rhythm of your heart

I want to love you PURE
Like the wind from a virgin forest
Like… like a child’s first day at school

I want to love you WHOLE
Not some of you but all of you… with all your faults
So, love is tender
Love is true
Love is crazy
Just like me and you.

William Ebanks
(Class of 2012)

Saturday, November 24, 2012

Ode to the Beef Patty (free verse)


Golden brown envelope
Flaky crust light with just with slightest crunch
Spiced underneath with steamy lust
Not violated with alien injection of cheese and tomatoes
Nor to be mentioned the cold crisp of bitter lettuce
For this desecration many taste buds have perished

Instead it virtues must be attributed to that of a seasoned hand
With right amounts of onion and thyme
And vengeance like only a scotch bonnet pepper can

This dark magic of food blessed
With steamy spirits emitting from it breasts
When all the alluring evil of the spiced demons wrought
Can only be quenched with a cold Red Stripe
And be brought to naught

And when it is consumed unlike a tart, danish, pizza or quiche
Temperature must be paramount for the body to be appeased
Whether solo or consummated with coco bread
Dear friends do so with caution
Since your mouth can tell a tale of pain due to scalding.
Holden Hudson
(Class of 2012)

Friday, November 23, 2012

PARAPROSDOKIANS


PARAPROSDOKIANS... (Winston Churchill loved them) are figures of speech in which the latter part of a sentence or phrase is surprising or unexpected; frequently humorous.

1. Where there's a will, I want to be in it.
2. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. But it's still on my list.
3. Since light travels faster than sound, some people appear bright until you hear them speak.
4. If I agreed with you, we'd both be wrong.
5. We never really grow up, we only learn how to act in public.
6. War does not determine who is right - only who is left.
7. Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit. Wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.
8. They begin the evening news with 'Good Evening,' then proceed to tell you why it isn't.
9. To steal ideas from one person is plagiarism. To steal from many is research.
10. Buses stop in bus stations. Trains stop in train stations. On my desk is a work station.
11. I thought I wanted a career. Turns out I just wanted paychecks.
12. In filling out an application, where it says, 'In case of emergency, notify:' I put 'DOCTOR.'
13. I didn't say it was your fault, I said I was blaming you.
14. Women will never be equal to men until they can walk down the street with a bald head and a beer gut, and still think they are sexy.
15. Behind every successful man is his woman. Behind the fall of a successful man is usually another woman.
16. A clear conscience is the sign of a fuzzy memory.
17. You do not need a parachute to skydive. You only need a parachute to skydive twice.
18. Money can't buy happiness, but it sure makes misery easier to live with.
19. There's a fine line between cuddling and holding someone down so they can't get away.
20. I used to be indecisive. Now I'm not so sure.
21. You're never too old to learn something stupid.
22. To be sure of hitting the target, shoot first and call whatever you hit the target.
23. Nostalgia isn't what it used to be.
24. Change is inevitable, except from a vending machine.
25. Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.
26. Where there's a will, there are relatives.
Finally...
I'm supposed to respect my elders, but it's getting harder and harder for me to find one now.
 

Thursday, November 22, 2012

The Dark (#2)


There is envy in my eyes, Hate in my mind.
A thick blackness in my heart, no love will you find.
My Tears are Cold...Frozen.
My little heart shattered...Broken.
My mind is clouded with devious thoughts,
My body, weary from the battles it fought.

My wings have been clipped, I have Fallen.
The voices in my head have stopped calling.
The path before me lacks light,
I have stayed in The Dark for too long, it has made me a ghastly sight.
I will stay in this Dark until the end...
For it is all I have... It is my only friend...
Rajae Williams 
(Class of 2009)