Poet-Tree Wil­low

ME DE WAS ROUN OLD BANK can­cha, relax­ing de evening nice, play one bas­ket, take dog lotion and tam­rine far heat-up me bel­ly. “…I love you like a fat kid love cake” sound music from hyn­dai taxi mp3 wat pass sluo de turn. Plen­ty song, dif­fer­ent you know, play in de bar­rio all de peo­ple dem swear dem can hear dem ting trangkilo.

Yes­ter­day I de see one nice liki ting like this hour, young nurse… Queen in Hor­a­tio in 2000; she look sweet in Cos­ta Vision, dem a car­ry de gal dem by Wal­patara and film dem giv­ing dem sexy style. My secan, Dar­by burn de ting in one DVD far me.

I de wan car­ry this gial one place I de got by Pointeen under one bicha tree like pic-nic, grind pic-nic. One time in 4 Brod­da we dance right like wee­da juke… she move soft with she ripe papaya.

I got news for you, I got news for you
That I am over you, I’m not in love with you
Been trough de fire, trough da rain but I lived
To love again.

Dark like night sky, tight gen­er­ous bun­ka and stiff bob­bie, bicha lip an prit­ty hon­ey eye. When we de in Colon one foc­ka what was me friend have trai­do whit she brod­da and he kill me poor cuña­do. I de have col­or for go wit dem crew. Buay, in Blue­fields peo­ple talk you get one fame you neva lose it. Dem a know Peter rude. Him is gangs­ta, deal wit Baby­lon an him mama feel shame.

She was liki gial when it hap­pen, liku Deb­bie Hodg­son in de pri­ma­ry. One day she juicy woman. And I go far ship out. I return Decem­ber and see she wit one young buay one Chi­nese-Black, she have sexy short leop­ard skirt an tiny black top, what drape on she breezy nip­ple. Plen­ty peo­ple pass an top you far brief secan, I still de look you from de bar and shad­ow, gone.

That same time for New Year I pass by she mama church an de roqui­ta rec­og­nize me, and find de dev­il in me eye. I de feel curse from when I was fool­ish. Deb­bie no got dis­crim­i­na­tion, she feel me sor­row for she brod­da Earl, even if I neva get for know him. I love she and we life have tragedy.

We have we ting hide, like we doing bad ting. She get for meet me chil­dren dem call her aun­tie, dem no sell dem papa. In de begin­ning I de have next meat but I get for no want next woman. Key­la, me son Kent mama, tell me Deb­bie give me panty wata.

When I de out in the sea, I hear plen­ty sto­ry like de one dem tell in Blue­fields, Hat­ian man, Jamaican, Domini­can all dem have dem somet­ing. One man give me one liki black rock what I rub on me cock an it stay stiff plen­ty hour. I hear one uol man in Cot­ton Tree have two-week erec­tion and dem have to car­ry him Managua.

One hat­ian man, Jean, was de tough man in voo-doo. Him say when him is in de jun­gle him con­vert to tiger or mon­key. One time we was in we bunk him axe me for me one true love, name. Him write Deb­bie on one paper and burn it, grab de ash and spread on me hand, I whipe de dust and read “Deb­bie” on me palm.

Jean den de say: “Chen gen kat pat, se yon sèl chemen li fè”. And pass me vio­let mak­wa string for me jour­ney. I go In the jun­gle I find de tree what is part and hol­low far lure one mak­wa. With drum­beat I de dance for de spir­it an make dem car­ry the bird here from heav­en rain­bow. I done do it baby, we going heal and cre­ate new life, an you fam­i­ly going get far under­stan, I de get de get we soul bless­ing, we irie.