Mistakes-for Cara

By Nadine Thomas-Brown
April 6,2008

What mi give him di punani fa?
Wha mi gi him di punani fa?
Seh him love mi eyes but a lie him a lie
Whe mi give him di punany fah?

Mek mi fling it up and gi him di wuk
Mek mi fling it up give him di wuk>
Seh a love wi a mek but a joke him a mek
cause dis love feel like a fuck.

Mek mi cry in front of him
Mek him lie in front a mi
Mek mi feel soh shame
Love is a game next time mi a go learn fi play

Mek di world feel like a bag
A big old heavy bag
Mi lie to mi self ,mi a cry to mi self
With four months of bun baking

Gonna tek it out the oven
Put in a coffin, send it to di wife
Fuck with his life
The way he fucked with mine

Whe him give mi dis ya ring ya fa
Whe him gimmi da ring ya fa?
Say a love him a mek but a fuck him a get
Dis time nigger I aint playin’.

Make Me …

By Nadine Thomas-Brown


Work it baby, whip it on me
Make me feel like a halleluiah slave
Whip up some sweat, flip it make it slick
Lick it make it cream for you.

Scream for you, come on baby work it harder, that’s it
Kitty loves to purr
Now make that fat cat screammmmmmmmmm!!!
Bring it here baby

I wanna, I wanna , I wanna touch it
Stroke it
Squeeze it
Please it
Freeze it .right . there.
Ahhhhhhhh


Now work it, work it work it good

Primal pulsing, throbbing gobbing
Gulping, you not me,
ok me too. Ooheee , stroking, squeezing, screamingggggg

Say .my. name, no I am not God but I am a goddess who
Loves to get you off..

It's complicated

By Nadine Thomas-Brown

Rubix cube-esque
this man I want to call mine,
can't solve him.
languid and easy as the breeze he leaves me.
leaves without a kiss,
without an I'll miss you
not sure which he wants more
a score or a whore
to fuck with till sore
and he’s no one's love
devoid of love
avoid all love
grinds me into grits
then makes me into porridge
a salve for hungry birds to shit upon
From the armpits of my soul
i'd kill him if i
was not so short
kill him with my love
but I’m
short of
patience
short on time
time which has wound chains around my feet
and cobwebs in my pride .

© April 1, 2008

Resolutions

By Nadine Thomas-Brown
April 28,2008


Today I forced love out the door
Latched it behind him with reinforced resolve
And breathed a sigh of redemption


Then I mopped his footsteps from my
House. Erased all traces of his fingerprints
Took a moment to drink long draughts from this fresh brew of no regrets
Out of my new day, cup.


I washed his lovestains out my hair and put on
The rainments of a new woman, ethereal, real, becoming…


I ‘d grown tired of the company he left me
In

Mis- spent time cause
I was spending mine with
Pain and heartache, sorrow and heartbreak,
in orgies of sadness.

Strong I tried to stay put him out,send him away
But he’d return, sincere and new
Promising Lying, spouting change.,,
and fool me would drink it up, sup his lies from this bitter cup….

This time if he returns, I will not be kind
I will put on my father’s army boots,
kick the shit out of him and lock his ass in the car trunk
I’ll go all waiting to exhale on his ass and shit , Angela Basset on his ass and shit.

Find me some new ass. Shit!

The MUD- For displaced peoples worldwide

By Nadine Thomas-Brown
April 6, 2008


Come walk with me to never never land where
Coal black eyes reach out from a field of dreams
Where hungry children walk bare foot on unpaved streets
Bellies bursting with the pus of politics
the hope for a better way their only meat
their parents bitter cup their only drink..

Come walk with me through the mud
Where squashed generations thrive planted in the brown muck
Where men’s lives are fucked with in the carnival of multi colored houses
While tabloid ministers fat on young pussies
and over developed developments, their children safely ensconced in
foreign lands of which they speak ill, talk shit for the benefit of the stupid.

But soft, what is this? the mud? It’s leaking out
Stop it before it contaminates, procreates,
Too late it’s out walking about it’s in your genes
In your fiends, the ones you created when you pushed the backs of blacks against the wall
Kinda like in the days when
caucasians were the ones dishing out racism and all types of scisms
Now it is you fat cat, you who do that but you black.

One day soon The worm might turn , then your hopes too might burn like the people you spurn
hope you have toilet paper when the shit hits the fan.
Shit hits the fan, you mr piano man, you mr. music man you
Fast talking, stink fingers in your bungie man, sleeping with children man,
Ignoring women’s rights man , children’s rights man.
People’s rights man….

Man this shit’s fucked up….

MIA

By Nadine Thomas-Brown


Three year old crying in my lap
With my face on your face
My race on your race
I want to slap the shit out of you.

Girl child bawling out for mom
Is this what my life’s become
Shitty child, bitchy child
Who ya ma is?

Hair all over ya head
Won’t frigging go to bed
Pissy drawers, runny nose
OMG why the hell me

Titty sucking heffer
Pa watching tv heffer
If you weren’t so small
I’d cut your tiny hip. Heffer!!

little voice says mom I wuv you,
May I have some wata pwease
I had a nightbear and u saved me!!!


Reason starts to come back
Lift her caress her back
Wet Eyes look up face of trust
I’m a crummy mother.

At last she is So still now
Curled up she is at peace now
Angel child, love child now
What would I do without her?

Finally

I havae finally remembered my password. Praises be. Will try to post new work soon in the meantime thanks to obie and dickson for keeping it going

The deep end of the ocean(part 2)

Neptune is in a rage,
he will not be calm today,
all his sea daughters are out visiting,
they tuck in tail and fin(or perhaps a sting ray or two);
adorn pearl and shell,
and visit these lands of the men gods.
Every friday night at the club drift,
out on that oceanic blue dance floor,
where the strobe lights rock back and forth,
like the ocean wave and tide,
or lightning flash across distant sea horizon;
I see one or two sea nymphs(or perhaps 3 or 4);
wide smile from Doris dolphin,
slow sensual dance of Jenny sea jelly,
and electrifying touch Esther eel,(or perhaps claw gripping Christine the crab).
I am certain they are oceanic,
for I never ever see them again! (perhaps until next friday)
Neptune is too often an irate dad,
and that's why the sea is tempestous every Friday night,
worse on early saturday morn;
if Christine crab stayed in my bed a few sand hours too long.
Don't say I didn't ever tell you;
only sail on sunday,
even sea god kings go to church!(or perhaps to Elysium)

D E Wasake24 May 2008

The Elephant Man

on this rocky earth
on this planet
sleeping apart

across it, shadows fall
how far away
leaping hell fires

to save and to guide
or what are friends for

are we our brother's keeper
are we kept or well kept
or left or lost

about the globe roaming

John Merrick on the run
mob behind in hot pursuit

unable to run further
he turns and says

"I am not an animal,
"I am a human being!"


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2008
2:32 a.m. 07.04.08

up and down the elevator of words

Opening Doors

locked within a few seconds
impossible feeling, falling into you
Lauryn's song, killing me softly

By Obediah Michael Smith and Nadine Brown, 2007
4:07 a.m. 26/11/07

The Unbearable Lightness of Being

The recent passing of Nadine's dog, calls to mind the film, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, made from Czechoslovakian author, Milan Kundera’s novel of the very same title.

Juliette Binoche and Daniel Day-Lewis star in this delightful film. Here is why Nadine's dog’s death brings this film to mind.

Character played by Day-Lewis is a medical doctor. Binoche, in the role of the doctor's wife, is exceptional.

We see this couple in the film purchase a puppy, which we watch become a dog, a big heavy pet. There is a piglet as well in the film, which becomes a big heavy pig before our eyes. The pig is the pet of a friend of this couple. The animals indicate so well the passage of time.

The dog gets old, falls ill. It is not taken to a vet. The doctor himself treats this pet, which they both cared for, played with and loved.

I find myself wondering if the doctor in Nadine’s life stepped in. Did he intervene to save his wife's poor pet, the passing of which, it seems, has left her so distraught?

Does it work like that though, outside of films, outside of Czechoslovakia? Can a medical doctor do a veterinarian’s job? What of vice versa?

I've avoided telling you what becomes of the dog or the pig in “The Unbearable Lightness of Being”. You'll have to see it. I wish not to spoil it. It is a very fine film. Be assured of that.

when autumn comes

Rake for Leaves
for Thomas-Brown

woman salivating,
do or say something,
make her less moist,
dry up, like a mouth amid speech
without water in a glass

is moisture left, sufficient
for speech, for when two meet,
to get to heaven in, get to heaven on

enough for two to glide
upon a roller coasted ride


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
11:34 a.m. 20/11/07

Elevator

no space, no time,
a second, us in it,
wished for forever

a moment
no you no me
us falling
Lauryn's song deadly
killing me softly.

Art Gallery

Juicy mango lips
works of art
forbidden fruit
heart trembling still
air whooshes by
whooshes out
of sweet breathed mouth
as lips gently
oh so gently
sweetly touched.
NTB (c) Nov. 2007

murderer

He killed a man
Just shot him dead
Wanted his watch, wanted his soul

Now in court he sits I watch his hurt eyes, haunted eyes, scared eyes
Jail house does not rock.

Letter to a Man Child

If I held you to my breast
and calmed your fears
maybe the years between us
would fall away like old skin


If indeed as you say you don't mind the years
and every one and everything
did not matter at all
then we could laugh and dance
slip away and find romance.

My wish for you my darling is
that one day when you find true bliss
that maybe in the midst of it
you'll think of me a little bit

and though I know that you I'll miss
though we've only shared one little kiss
all i have to say is this
manchild walk your miles...

thirsty on wednesdays

Dish Lick
for N.T.B.

mango seeds recently,
beneath my leaking sink,
within my dark cupboard, growing

love out of sight, takes similar flight
long stalks, tall stems, shooting leaves

you leave me breathless
eye windows, I want those apples, plums
to pull them off stems
to pull your limbs down

four limbs about me say
“I want you in me, safe and warm!”

98.6 x 2 on a cold, December night
plight of life, no plight at all

easy for you as tangerine, to get into
to peel and plug, to peel, unplug

I want to hug you until leaven rise
our two balloons, blue-heaven bound
we’ll blow up there, we’ll go up there

attic of creation to be intimate in
hay loft to copulate in
until cows moo, jealous of you
in hay all day, in nothing more

you are the woman I wear
when my pen needs a grip to fit into

to bite you in two, to bite into you
what I desire to do
though I want you whole
to be able to hold you

whole beets, whole peaches in cans
dish or two, to empty them into


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
2:53 a.m. 15/11/07

east african

Penny Wort’ A Sausage

you’d need to have a dick
as long as a sausage
for all the girls who desire
an inch or two of it

dick enough to hang up
in a butcher shop
for them to purchase
able to come by any time
to buy piece

sweet-mout’ fur dick, fur sausage
caan’ get enough of it
but you are dick’s son
as we all are


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2007
2:10 a.m. 15/11/07

Park and Playground Hazardous

By Nadine Thomas –Brown

There is a song by Ziggy Marley and the Melody Makers part of which goes, “ children playing in the streets, on broken bottles and rubbish heaps”. The song was a commentary about the state of ghettos as it related to children who had to grow up in less than acceptable environments.

In the Bahamas on any given day of the week, school kids and preschoolers, as well as their parents, whether from the inner city or otherwise, put themselves in similar situations. They do this by going to parks which for the most part have seemingly been left to maintain themselves.

Lately while other offending parks have tried to clean up their act- through community organizations- Goodman’s Bay Park whose -grounds due in part to the large traffic of public visitors- has become a veritable dumping ground. Any day of the week garbage may be found throughout the park extending all the way into the children’s playground. Plastic bottles and wrappers from food containers as well as other unmentionable objects -often times left over from whatever illicit activity took place the night before- litter the park.

Meanwhile the children’s playground has become akin to what one parent, called an “obstacle course of hazards”. The fragile looking rusted swings- a great draw to kids and adults of all ages- groan with fright every time they are pushed sky high into the air with their tiny or not so tiny passengers. The see- saw has lost it’s balance and teeters from side to side every time it is boarded. In the meantime the huge slide-the biggest hazard of all- waits to savage little kids with it’s huge jagged teeth which protrudes from a huge break at the mouth from which they descend after sliding down at breakneck speed.

Ironically this park sits at one of the more prestigious ends of town leading into the Cable Beach strip. Tourists can be seen milling about mixing with the natives throughout the week.

Other parks though such as those adopted by private business enterprises seem to be thriving, for example the Kerzner International sponsored, Montague Park in the eastern district is for the most part well maintained. Even though the odd bit of waste from time to time lying next to an empty recepticle is somewhat disturbing.

Meanwhile officials were stumped on the question of who was responsible for maintaining the playground equipments in government owned areas. The Guardian was told to call Environmental health, who then passed the buck to The Ministry of youth who passed it to the Ministry of Works and back and forth went the beureocratic red tape.

Finally, Hilton Solomon- Field Supervisor zone 5 –Department of Environmental Health, who has held that post for the past three weeks, according to him, said that while Environmental Health was responsible for maintaining park grounds he thought that the Ministry of Youth dealt with playground equipment.

As to what was to be done about the accumulation of garbage in parks, Solomon said that cleanup of all parks and beaches had already commenced. Though the call was still out on a cleanup of users of the park’s attitudes towards helping to maintain the cleanliness of it.

“If you notice now we are just now trying to do some work. Grounds will be cleaned there are changes and we are not moving as fast, but trees have been trimmed paths whitewashed, sand cleared etc. and we are going to have an ongoing maintenance of all parks and beaches which will be cleaned every day,” Solomon said.

“Some of the problems that we were having there included a lot of parties on the weekends. We want to meet with some of the citizens including the Jet Ski association to find out solutions”.

Meanwhile Ambrose-Walker-Deputy Permanent Secretary in the Ministry of Youth Sports and culture redirected the call to Chris Thompson a Public Administrator in the Ministry of Works to answer the who is in charge of maintaining the parks playgrounds question.

Thompson said that technically the Ministry of works would be responsible for “things like that but there are certain play equipment that have been donated and we do not maintain those as it would be those persons responsibility to maintain them”. The Ministry of works he explained was responsible for “anything that was on public space, the use of public space and the maintenance and upkeep of public rest rooms.”

What if the equipment for the playground was posing a threat? Thompson paused here to seek assistance and again insisted that the Ministry of Youth and Sports would be able to answer this question.

When Permanent Secretary Walker was again contacted he said because of the murkiness as to who was responsible. He would take it on himself to send someone to address the problem and find out which Ministry to send the bill to.

Adventures in Journalism4

photos By Edward Russell II

There are numerous things that you could do with your well deserved lunch break which- face it- you have anticipated from the moment your dragged your sleep deprived reluctant body into the work place.

For one, you could go shopping for more shoes you probably do not need .Maybe you could meet up with carefree friends to finally try sushi at any of the expensive Japanese restaurants which have popped up all over Nassau like pimples on a teenager's face. Maybe you can drop in to the hairdresser to tighten up those three week old locks, braids, weaves or perms. However for the adventurous, supremely unconventional and positively unorthodox individual, another option is available. How about a tattoo or a piercing or both?

Piercings and tattoos- though recently resurrected as part of pop culture- have been around since ancient times. Tribes in Africa and India still indulge in piercings and scarring as well as tattooing as holy rituals or to indicate tribal affiliations.

Cut to the eighties and women and men in the west have begun making more than one piercing in the earlobes and piercing their nostrils as a fashion statement -something which was still taboo in the sixties.

Tatooing started making an appearance in the early nineties with the advent of “thug life chic” . Nowadays most entertainers have indulged in some sort of tattooing. It is not unusual to see facial, tongue, navel, eyebrows, nostrils and of course earlobes pierced.

For those of you who squirm at the sheer thought of a needle piercing any part of your anatomy, the good news is it's not as bad as it looks.








This sentiment is echoed by everyone who comes in to get either a piercing or tattoo the day my pal, photojournalist Edward Russell III and me decide to document the experience of getting pierced and “tatted” for the reading public just in case enquiring minds sought answers about these less than new, but still scary modern day art forms- a kind of adventure in journalism for the timid so to speak.

After a week of looking for the right spot to do the deed, our research leads us to Tattoo King on Marathon Road. We decide to take several calming breaths before heading into the parlor.


The parlor itself is a converted three bedroom flat replete with red walls hung with sketches and pictures of people with tattoos and piercings. The living room has been converted into a reception area. With a couple of couches strategically placed apparently more for space than style. The centre of the room is dominated by a desk on which sits a computer and accessories. This is the first stop in the process of getting hooked up with a “sick” tat. ( tatoo so good it inspires envy).

We are greeted by a friendly older guy, who we learn is the manager. Apparently the business is a family venture. Older guy tells us that his brother taught all the other brothers the art of piercing and tattooing and they are now in the process of expanding the business`. They now have another tattoo parlor.

We introduce ourselves to the manager as reporters and inform him of our mission. He is only too happy to oblige. I tell him I want a piercing in my lip a la Amy Winehouse- the latest singing phenom out of England. She sports a piercing at the top of her lip which looks like a beauty spot.. This is right up my alley since I am not trying to be too “Rock and Roll” on the job. It is discreet and less played out than a nose ring.

Shortly afterward, I am escorted into a back room with a massage table and told to climb up. Eddie tags along looking very scared for me which is very funny. I begin to laugh. Then older guy returns with a needle the size of a crochet hook. Needless to say all laughter ceases as I steel myself for the moment when this monstrous tool will penetrate my lip . However I am directed to the bathroom where I am instructed to put a mark on the area that I needed to be pierced thus keeping the pain at bay for now.

I am diverted back to the room after strategically marking the spot for the piercing. “Bring on the pain,” I think to myself. Seconds and not more than a pin prick later, I am sporting a tiny diamond studded ring in my lip. It's to die for. Eddie cattily tells me that it looks good except that all the jewelery I am currently wearing “kinda clashes”. I flash him a nasty look but have no comments.

The impact of the face ring at work is phenomenal and at home gets not even a raised eyebrow from hubby. What it does inspire however is a, “take it out” from the three year old who keeps poking it, and a “did it hurt mommy” from the considerate eight year old who wants to try it on... so much for that.


Three days later we are back at the salon. Eddie wants to dabble in piercings and I in tattoos. We are given the VIP treatment. I get to look through a catalogue of various types of tattoos online and finally decide on a tribal tattoo of a bear's claw. At this point I do not give any thought to meaning. I just like the look of the claw. After my final decision is clear the design is uploaded and printed on paper. I am then given this paper and shown into a different room where several people are. Three are tattoo artistes. They are all young looking and the guy assigned to me is only 18. He traces the design on what looks like wax paper then somehow gets the design on my arm (I miss this step because I am joking around).

The next step in this process is an hour and a half of scraping away skin and mixing flesh with ink. When the wound has dried this ink will become a permanent part of who I am. This is one of the most painful experiences I have had but it is worth it when I see the tattoo. It is well done and bold like me. I can't wait to show it off. I am bandaged and told to remove the tape in 4 hours and given ointment for the wound. With plenty of kind words we take our leave.


Lately it has become a rite of passage for young people who caught up in the hip hop cultures try to emulate their idols. For example a 16 year old whose aunt had driven him to the parlour. He got the name of an artist who he admired tattooed on his arm. His aunt commented that though some viewed tattoos wearily- she saw nothing wrong with it as there were other things that a boy could be doing aside from just getting a tattoo.

The general consensus is that a tatoo enhances sexuality if strategically placed on a woman. As for men it makes them appear tougher. For older people getting a tattoo is sometimes more about symbolism than anything else . Alexis who recently got a tattoo told me that she decided to do something spontaneous for her 36th birthday to remind her that she still had some spirit left in her.

However to the tattoo artist it is less about any of these things and more about the art itself. The act of creating artwork and placing it on a living canvas. Of course the financial gain from people who have become addicted to these ancient practices is an added bonus.