"bahama" poems
Iguana of diamonds,
Sand sea and sun,
Little children in sight,
Attractions of light,
Natives of love,
Decorative cities, what night.
Island’s of the Bahamas beauty as can be,
What more fun than playing with dolphins in the sea.
Creative costumes, dancers so bright,
The music dramatized, Feel the rush it’s a site.
Nothing more beautiful than the island themselves,
Well except the people willing to give help.
Pineapples, peas and rice, pink sand, flamingoes, and some conch salad,
Not forgetting the “KALIK,” cause’ “IT’S A BAHAMIAN TING”.
Blue, Black and Aquamarine, was just described to you,
All in the Islands Love.
Come and enjoy the exciting experience too!
My Bahama Land!
©
Nov 4, 2010
Nov 4, 2010 at 7:33 AM UTC
When you no no want eat Lemmon
'cause it no no not taste sweet
You should not have sugar candy
It's not healthy as can be...Now!
There are new Thai Fruits discovered, in the Tropic Jungle heat!
All them lovely Thailand Fruits! Make you mouth say" Tutti Fruit, Ah!"
All exotic and delicious.. at first one is so suspicious... cause it taste so crazy wild
But, even good for baby child...
Big banana grow for monkey Yes, Thai Fruits tastes so fun funky!
Mango for Bangkok street dancing, All Thai Fruit best for romancing...
GrapeFruit great for big-big ape! Thai Fruit, in my my milk-shake!
Grow head hairy with Strawberry! Dandy Fruit lovely big Cherry!
Melon make wild man go yell... Thai Fruit put you in love spell
Guava flavor in coffee Java yes, Thai Tree found in Bahama!
Now, we eat up all da fruit, lovely-lovely Melon Fruit!
cuase it makes sweet-nectar juice! Cleanse your Healthy body loose!
There are new Thai Fruits we eat discover deep in Jungle heat!
We love spicy Thailand Fruit! Make you mouth feel Tutti Fruit!
"Yum Yum" sez baby child...
Get Fruity Now! Sweet & Sour! Hep Hep Hurray!
Thai Fruit, yum yum yum!
Don't need no *** *** ***
Feeling Fruity all over, sensation of all flavor...
a brand new taste I now savor .... Mmmmmmmm Deeelicious!
Thailand Fruit is now: what we all Favor !!!!
Thai Fruit Taste, the one we love...
All the many are so nice...
Like Mangosteen herb spice
We all want Thai Fruit now, is the flavor in our mouth...Sugar Chocolate Candy can go south... '
'cause dem no don't tastes as sweet...
Theres the new Thai Fruit we discover in the Jungle fill with heat!
It is the lovely Thai Thai Fruit! Make you go go Tutti Fruit!
It is exotic and delicious.. Now no one is suspicious... cause it taste so yummy wild
We feel like baby child... Yep, it make all go hog WILD!!!
(c) 2009 David Wayne Clare all rights reserved in perpetuity - Intellectual Property use by permission
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 3:00 AM UTC
When descends on the Atlantic
The gigantic
Storm-wind of the equinox,
Landward in his wrath he scourges
The toiling surges,
Laden with seaweed from the rocks:
From Bermuda’s reefs; from edges
Of sunken ledges,
In some far-off, bright Azore;
From Bahama, and the dashing,
Silver-flashing
Surges of San Salvador;
From the tumbling surf, that buries
The Orkneyan skerries,
Answering the hoarse Hebrides;
And from wrecks of ships, and drifting
Spars, uplifting
On the desolate, rainy seas;—
Ever drifting, drifting, drifting
On the shifting
Currents of the restless main;
Till in sheltered coves, and reaches
Of sandy beaches,
All have found repose again.
So when storms of wild emotion
Strike the ocean
Of the poet’s soul, erelong
From each cave and rocky fastness,
In its vastness,
Floats some fragment of a song:
From the far-off isles enchanted,
Heaven has planted
With the golden fruit of Truth;
From the flashing surf, whose vision
Gleams Elysian
In the tropic clime of Youth;
From the strong Will, and the Endeavor
That forever
Wrestle with the tides of Fate;
From the wreck of Hopes far-scattered,
Tempest-shattered,
Floating waste and desolate;—
Ever drifting, drifting, drifting
On the shifting
Currents of the restless heart;
Till at length in books recorded,
They, like hoarded
Household words, no more depart.
7.2k
Bohemian baby, yeah thats what I am
Using rhapsody words, to write my jam
Vocals and lyrics, make a different sense to all
Changes I embrace, sometimes cause my fall
Bahama mama, I write for thee
Sand in my hair, and I'm livin free!
Beautiful coral, could cut me like a knife
Sailing the seas of words, now thats my life
Rays from the sun, make my unnatural color
My Calypso, she is my mother
From all of this, Caribbean joy
Raised on the island, a bahama bohemian boy
Jan 8, 2012
Jan 8, 2012 at 11:15 PM UTC
“Ye without sin cast the first stone.”
No one is perfect, but I’m not justifying crime.
Men roam the streets as their little children sleep,
Ready to attack the obvious prey.
While hard working people that wants to make ends meet,
Pray with their little children or go their separate ways,
Subconsciously hoping to wake up the next day.
Though four miles away and even across the world,
Someone’s being shot, stab to death or *****
We the country gasp in fear,
Though we the country created the problem.
Young men and women hooked on drugs,
Partying like rock stars while hitting the clubs.
Showing off the material things, “Yea that’s wassup.”
According to the older folks this nonsense has to stop,
I do agree though, before friends create props.
Are we are neighbors keepers, or do we continue to hate?
While we make money for our bread and butter,
Some families have nowhere to stay.
Young men turn to violence,
To make money for today.
Who knows what goes on in our country,
While the light are off and the street lights are on.
What shall be revealed next?
“All a we,” suppose to be, “One Family.”
Yet our nations need to be healed.
Let’s come together “This Bahama Land”,
And lend one another a helping hand.
©
Nov 4, 2010
Nov 4, 2010 at 7:27 AM UTC
i could not hold on anymore
to the desperate plea of the futile ones
who live off another wallet
so i set out that night for the south
to find the great parking lots
where i might find a space and place to rest my weary head
where i might find a place to be safely reckless
with her potions and instruments
but the violin she played spun a queer note
and i knew that if i did not go on with
whatever she wanted she would be the end of me
the end of poor poor me
gather my slim riches in my carpetbaggers coat
and picked up the threadbare bag
that had all the steam-pipes and tools
for making a new titanic
lets sink it right this time
we ended up just east of Pensacola
in a fairytale land of flea markets
trying to barter our yesterdays
for a bowl of thin soup today
gather my threadbare deadlock hippie chick companion
and counseled her against talking too loud
against the tourqouse monsters
and she told me i was just nervouse
and stripped away the rationalizations
to show that the fat man is only selling tickets
to the free show
so i follow her
having made up my mind that she sees the reality
of this sandy soil wasteland
we ended up leaving Pensacola
and with a quick prayer
we were on the the boat to the Bahama
with our lives intact
maybe next time we will escape
maybe next time you will come back with another woman stead of me
and i said that's a possibility
that wouldn't make either of us happy but
that's the way it should be sometimes
life doesn't always make sense
well most of the time it dont
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 6:15 AM UTC
i disavow my allegiance to the flag,
& to the Commonwealth of the Bahamas.
for we are not one people,
we are not united,
we do not live in love,
& we are unfortunately serviced.
what does the future hold for my Bahama land?
with our resources not being utilized for the betterment of our people...
but being sold to non-Bahama land.
no profits being aimed to,
or sources being owned by
our Bahama man.
as i lift my head to the rising of the sun in this Bahama land,
i see no hope for the future, no hope in my Bahama land.
no one to speak up,
the youth are out of luck.
the elders show no interest,
we are doomed.
still,
we march on to the glory..
but what bright banners do we have to wave high?
the means of the leaders are of no significance,
& i can no longer bear the pain that i witness.
how will we excel
if we do not love,
& unite?
going forward,
will we stand together
for a common, loftier goal?
as i lift up my head to the rising sun in my Bahama land;
i see anguish,
i see fear &
leaders with no care.
all the things i see are broad.
...but may the road that my people trod
lead us to our God,
that will help us on this march to save our Bahama land.
Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 8:49 PM UTC
I stole it all,
your colours and your rhymes
now I'm in prison
just a dreaming about the wine
coloured glasses
waiting for me in the Bahama's
to block the rays of sunshine
waiting for you and me!
I put 20 million in stocks
another 10 in bearer bonds
I bought a horse to race
a 2500 acre field
for it to live
and next to it a league
for me to rest my feet
I stole your colours for fun
I stole your rhymes just for the day
Your money I left alone,
you see I sold the stolen art
as supplies
the judge he didn't see it my way
so here I sit doing 5 to 20
my money safely tucked away
in the Bahama's
and you my Bahama mama
are you waiting there for me
aiyee I sing a song of island joy
are you waiting there for me?
Jan 30, 2011
Jan 30, 2011 at 2:41 AM UTC
*In this country I fear for my life
Violence today is far from your everyday fight
This just doesn't feel right
To sit here and not write
What has happened to my little Bahama land ?
Today people rob and **** for fun
Toddlers aren't afraid to wave a gun
Im sick to my stomach as I look in disbelief
Could being killed be my new destiny
What has happened to my little Bahama land ?
Innocent people caught in crossfire
All from stupid incidents that had been transpired
130 murders! Rings in my ears
Young children around me shedding tears
What has happened to my little Bahama land ?
Sun , sand and sea?
Means nothing
if innocently killed mothers cant enjoy it with me
I am the youth and I will be the change
I'll do it hand by hand
I beg plead and ask
What has happened to my little ol Bahama land ?
~ Rae Lauren*
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 4:06 PM UTC
she turned the questions in her eyes aside
and stealing away in the quiet
of the pine forest winters day
the taste of wood smoke was tangible on the sharp cold air
and his eyes hunted the ridge crest for sing of flames
as they hurried their steps along the rough hewn track
she carried the child whos silent contemplation
showed his understandings of the gravity of this flight
the bundle of possessions on his shoulder
weighed upon his mind
counselling himself not to regret casting it all aside should need arise
the woman and child so fragile and dear to his heart
mean so much more than mere trinkets of gold
he would surrender without pause life and limb to spare them
she was a smoky version of bobby dylan
complete with winged snakes in each hand
complete with a crown of jewels
and the thousand words dance
he was a seafaring man
they reached the shore of the sea
and found the wreckage of a sailing ship
her fine line speaking clear of her swiftness
and her appointments show without shyness
that she was of the finest portugal shipyards
they spent days making her seaworthy
laying up in the harsh tropical sun
neath the palm trees drinking *** from her stores
they put to sea in the birth of the new year
singing 'goodbye spanish ladies'
the three of them on the skiff tacking up-channel
trying to determine latitude by sighting
but a fog rolls in off the coast of grande bahama
as dawn breaks
man woman and grown child
the miles and the treasures cast aside
each wore on open hearted face
but neath the weary of sea miles
was their joys in the true riches
of eachothers soft hand entwined as they sailed into
a golden dusk
of a lesser throne
a kingdom of the sea
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 11:30 PM UTC
a balmy sweet day
the company of palms
caught the rays
with a
sway
blue hues
sliced evenly
through the green fan
Bahama breezes
brought blooming
bitd of paradise
dreams
dreams of footprints
on wet shore
DREAMS
of loving passion
forlorn
~~~ but ~~~
a little more time
a little more time
breezes sigh
pick up
become
WIND
sea begins to chop
sands to sing
air soughs through
the fronds of the
satin spikes
and the entire tree
begins to
SWAY
a dance awed
by forest nymphs
so potent and
courageous
~ yet ~
delicate and fragile
the spiked heads
of the palms
show a
frenzied nod
then a
shake
then they
/// BOW \\\
clouds glower
on the
horizontal lines
the joins of
sea and sky
rain begins to beat
tattoos
in the sands
the congregation of palms
are now bending low
touching their
foreheads
to the
singing beaches
like the devout
in a
mosque
they
bend
like reeds
but have a root
that touches the
inner sanctuary
of the
((( €ARTH )))
nothing will uproot
them from
her
(((♥HEART♥)))
with eyes closed
they go back
to being
TALL
and
PROUD
with teeth clutched
they know even
~ this ~
soon
will
>>> PASS <<<
(C) dajena m
(C) soulsurvivor
Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 1:41 PM UTC
God is good & God is great
He hates queers that levitate
Momma said that God is dead & I can touch a thousand men
We're not hippies, we're just dumb
We do drugs. We Have fun
(No Brains!)
Obama, I wanna go-bama
I know you know I wanna
go-bama to a sauna
in the Bahamas, bring iguanas
Obama, I think
I think you know-bama
I wanna go, I wanna wear pajamas
in Bahama mama sticky saunas
(No Brains!)
I don't know how to think
The clock goes " tick tick tick tick"
Gotta speak quick, gotta think big
Gotta beat kids with a big stick
God told me I wrote the bible
Jesus had a black disciple
Jesus got behind the wheel
He'll make Obama great again
He'll make it rain and bring the pain
He'll make it make it make it
(No Brains!)
Jesus cured all my diseases
He taught me what cottage cheese is
Analingus teachers taught the preachers how to feed us
eat a fetus
Jesus teaches
(No Abortion!)
but I don't really think that it's that important
but if you really think that its that important
there's pre-abortional baptism
America runs on fascism
American chicks like circumcision not activism
if it lacks vision then
police could release the crack
in the ghetto snacks
in the ghetto shacks
In the fellow stacks, it'll make a better tax return
I'm like,
(No Brains!)
It's metal, baby
Obama, I wanna go-bama I think
I think, you wanna know-bama,
I wanna go-bama I think
I think, you wanna know
It's metal, baby
Don't touch me, I'm beautiful
Touch me touch me, I will sue
Don't touch me, I have a crush
Watch me crush, watch me ****
Armageddon veterans take armadillo medicine
I eat you like venison
Watch me crush, watch me ****
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 10:55 PM UTC
we all love in our own way, in the way we can. sometimes that love is loud and bright and WOW WOW WOW. but sometimes its not. its quiet like making that drive. like looking me straight in the eyes. like giving you the left earbud. like mwah mwah let me kiss your neck. and on the days i don’t feel like sinking, i know i should love you better. like stop running. stop your tears. stop your lies. sometimes it'll tell its own lies, the best lies you've ever heard. it loves like contusions and strained voices. like bahama mama blues and my vampire eyes. love like the first time I saw you cry. like a Sunday afternoon, Tuesday night, or Friday morning. love like we have the answers. or maybe we don’t. i mean an unconventional love is better than no love at all.
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 10:53 PM UTC
Far from where I have ever been we lay beneath a coconut tree.
The sun was mild as you lathered me in protection.
I smiled when you reached the arch of my back and slide under the bikini.
You have such large and capable hands
I felt my stress leave my body as the waves crash to shore in front of us.
In the distance an 80s classic played out of spaced speakers atop poles where wicker lights were strung.
We weren’t alone but the world fell away the moment your lips touched my shoulder.
You then gently slide my copper waves to one side to press them to the nape of my neck.
You know all my spots. You know exactly how to ignite me. How to bring me to life.
I crave your lips on mine and so I roll over to look up at you. Your hair is piled high and secured with a clip. Your amber eyes hold mischief as your long fingers dance down my exposed stomach to the bottoms of my suit.
I say your name to protest even as I arch toward your exploring fingers and invite them in.
I capture your mouth to silence my moans.
You smell like the sea we had played in most the day.
Your lips are still sticky sweet from the coconut we shared.
As the waves swelled so did I and like them soon came crashing only to drift back out again.
I watch you watching me as I try not to moan. My mouth gapping.
Our cabana attendant could check on us any moment…
You often look surprised. So utterly in awe of how I respond to your touch.
“Could this day get any more perfect?”
I did not answer.
I was still swimming.
Dec 27, 2022
Dec 27, 2022 at 4:09 AM UTC
I swam the sea
Manmade fish with rubber fins and glass eyes
It wasn’t difficult to breath
Quite the contrary
I witnessed wonders of man & mother
Bejewelled sealife amongst statues of stone
Sunken artistry, seaplanes and Poseidon
A lady of rock, the Ocean Atlas
Holding up the sky from beneath the waves.
The Bahama Mama casting a gentle eye over her domain
Tomorrow maybe more.
Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 8:37 AM UTC
I walk onto the dark balcony and feel the warm Florida air hug me like an old friend. I creep over to the edge and look down. Fear sets in. It’s late. But I text my best guy friend back home and ask him if he thinks I’ll die from four stories up if I decide to jump. Without missing a beat he writes back and says I may survive the fall. With that information in tow, I sit back in my Tommy Bahama beach chair and **** my self slowly, by lighting a Marlboro Light.
Dec 4, 2017
Dec 4, 2017 at 2:55 AM UTC
Before smoking a cigarette with you,
we walk outside to your porch
we are in an old town,
I thank you for your respect and hospitality
“I was just in trouble”
I say, thinking of how I sat in the Dean’s office the other day.
I think, meta-magically,
“wow, a human”
with hands spread out.
coins in hand.
Infinity is a toy store,
or a hot dog,
a walk with no complaints,
As we stroll leaving behind
the worries of today and yesterday.
As I
come
down,
Violence & crime,
So, I build us a house in San Francisco,
I decide it’s best either in the suburbs or
in a less affluent side of town,
Because it’s dangerous to be a healer and a thief
To be a model who looks in the mirror several times a day,
Or, a world-class athlete who trains alone.
My identity is selected
by my interaction
with ecstasy, & I apply it
by either incorporating it or resisting
it.
& please, I just want to be beautiful
& please, I just want to be beautiful
& please, let me have the toy
& to be loved
to be held tight
& for you to not
let go.
I want the beach in Galveston to stretch more than
27 miles. The sand on West Bay to have diamonds. To pick them up.
For Trinity river to flow into the Gulf of Mexico.
For the winds that come from hurricanes to
create a tremendous party for us, so we can slowly
slide down a slide at a children’s
museum.
The part of the Gulf of Mexico that interests me
the most is that it is bordered by the east
coast of Mexico, Florida, Alabama, Mississippi,
Louisiana, and Texas.
& they’re off, as I go to work & play dress up,
because time is a line, probably, we should begin again,
& meditate, & I’m sorry I didn’t support you, your
music deserves a louder clap than mine.
And suddenly,
the saddest thing occurred today
I was wearing khakis shorts
and a Bahama button down
and I was picking up my
kids from the airport. Just
then, I realized, I’m a father.
Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 2:19 AM UTC