deepundergroundpoetry.com
ballad of ocho rios
“Though the road’s been rocky, it sure feels good to me.”—Bob Marley
i.
the elegant bus,
complete with its driver,
will take all of us
to where the big river
comes down to the sea
through the twists and turns of walkerswood.
ii.
we pass grazing cows
and pigs running after
an old mother sow,
whose grunts are like laughter;
and there was a bee
that upon the speeding windshield stood.
iii.
dislodged by the wind,
the apiarian creature
got left way behind,
where no one could reach her,
not even poor me,
though i would have saved her, if I could.
iv.
fern gully ravine,
its darkness concealing
the shades of deep green,
of herbs good for healing
when brewed as a tea,
and ripe berries wild birds seek for food.
v.
a burst of new light,
the blue sea revealing,
ends fern gully night,
a sight so appealing
and spirits carefree,
as we near the coastline neighbourhood.
vi.
there's dunn's river falls
beyond turtle towers,
and cruise vessel calls,
where dancers with flowers
‘neath poinsettia trees
watch local craft vendors ply their goods.
vii.
six-hundred-foot falls
of cascading fountains
come down from their stalls
way up in the mountains,
and then they cry cree,
as the ocean calms their troubled mood.
viii.
his james bond escape,
the late ian fleming
left reader's agape,
by plots he was scheming;
007 glee
is the fare on which his readers brood.
ix.
bob marley birthplace,
and where he was buried,
the late saving grace
of reggae, who ferried
it over the sea,
where its rhythms are the world's lifeblood.
x.
a son of renown,
the late marcus garvey,
was born in the town
parishioned with ochi.
for Black dignity
he renounced the filthy and the crude.
xi
the windsor retreat,
with fire water magic,
is known by its heat
to heal up the tragic
of every disease
of man since the hills in order stood.
xii.
eight rivers, they say—
and yet only four streams
have come to the bay,
where people with pipe dreams
in one voice agree
that the rivers are misunderstood…
© Copyright 2023 May 02
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
i.
the elegant bus,
complete with its driver,
will take all of us
to where the big river
comes down to the sea
through the twists and turns of walkerswood.
ii.
we pass grazing cows
and pigs running after
an old mother sow,
whose grunts are like laughter;
and there was a bee
that upon the speeding windshield stood.
iii.
dislodged by the wind,
the apiarian creature
got left way behind,
where no one could reach her,
not even poor me,
though i would have saved her, if I could.
iv.
fern gully ravine,
its darkness concealing
the shades of deep green,
of herbs good for healing
when brewed as a tea,
and ripe berries wild birds seek for food.
v.
a burst of new light,
the blue sea revealing,
ends fern gully night,
a sight so appealing
and spirits carefree,
as we near the coastline neighbourhood.
vi.
there's dunn's river falls
beyond turtle towers,
and cruise vessel calls,
where dancers with flowers
‘neath poinsettia trees
watch local craft vendors ply their goods.
vii.
six-hundred-foot falls
of cascading fountains
come down from their stalls
way up in the mountains,
and then they cry cree,
as the ocean calms their troubled mood.
viii.
his james bond escape,
the late ian fleming
left reader's agape,
by plots he was scheming;
007 glee
is the fare on which his readers brood.
ix.
bob marley birthplace,
and where he was buried,
the late saving grace
of reggae, who ferried
it over the sea,
where its rhythms are the world's lifeblood.
x.
a son of renown,
the late marcus garvey,
was born in the town
parishioned with ochi.
for Black dignity
he renounced the filthy and the crude.
xi
the windsor retreat,
with fire water magic,
is known by its heat
to heal up the tragic
of every disease
of man since the hills in order stood.
xii.
eight rivers, they say—
and yet only four streams
have come to the bay,
where people with pipe dreams
in one voice agree
that the rivers are misunderstood…
© Copyright 2023 May 02
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
Published 3rd May 2023
| Edited 4th Jun 2023
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
4th May 2023 8:54pm
I love the formatting first off, which has a feel of like waves and grass, natural, organic movements, which suits the content. It is a lush and colorful, kaleidoscopic journey into the country and the soul of Jamaica to me.
Thank you, DC; I quite like the way you sum it up so that the poem speaks through the images.
If you were Jamaican, you would likely know that every stanza -- particularly iv-xii -- chronicles historical facts about that particular route and destination, making the poem a potentially useful inclusion in the local school curriculum.
I am aware that the typical reader prefers shorter poems, which is probably why more readers have not jumped on the page. For that reason, thanks for taking the time to wade through what was obviously more than fluff to you.
Yours sincerely
cab
If you were Jamaican, you would likely know that every stanza -- particularly iv-xii -- chronicles historical facts about that particular route and destination, making the poem a potentially useful inclusion in the local school curriculum.
I am aware that the typical reader prefers shorter poems, which is probably why more readers have not jumped on the page. For that reason, thanks for taking the time to wade through what was obviously more than fluff to you.
Yours sincerely
cab
