Turn off the lights — I’m fighting myself in the dark.
My skin, a caressing sun; roses fall and kiss me
with lip-shaped petals, trying to open me wide.
But they’ll censor you — they’ll look away, so you
don’t shine as bright as you are.

And me? I pluck myself from a group of self-doubts.
At the pace of this age, I slow, though youth fast-feeds
through my hands, trying to unearth green shoots
of heaven’s cheer. A chosen emotion rises — as if my
heart readies itself for a rapture. Earthen hands *****
out dreams from soil. To be called a ***** — or to *****
others? What a question to be.

As I’m plotting in the potting shed, where we shared
hope like dew-struck grass. We watered our dreams
with tears, and have felt baptized in fear. Shaking daily
at the grip of then —as if winter left its bare bones in my
hands. But I’m not ready to net a coy smile, not when my
butterfly net carries extra holes.

As all my hopes lie on the ground, seeds waiting to be
buried in the dark —waiting to grow. The lights of faith
are shut. And must I wait for fireworks to explode across
my sky again, like next year’s celebrations? But I won’t
shut my eyes this time. Yet I’ll stay open, just in case
tomorrow decides to find me first.

Women dressed in bright skimpy costumes
streets drumming to the beat of the heat
A blur of eccentric colors expound the air
as we embrace the culture, the vibe...

Resilience, freedom, pride, nothing to hide
as we celebrate with rhythmic sound & gaiety
There is a whisper of moonlight in the air
that tastes up everything in sight, we dance !

Grand parades filled with masqueraded personas
spread the "Spirit of Love" be one with humankind
Calypso music, hip-hop, dance of every gender
kick up your feet, go ahead and surrender !!!

Toronto's Caribbean Caribana, here since nineteen sixty-seven
excitement like this you cannot purchase it at the 7-ELEVEN.