MY KILIMANJARO (It’s At … Blue Mountain’s Peak) – 9

Kilimanjaro
It’s at … Blue Mountain’s Peak
the flooding of Its banks
carries the Village to a new dawn
and with the turn of tides
It fertilizes places - once foods - never grew
food never grew - never grows
to sustain Dreams that feeds Life
We yearn - a love is everlasting
as … muddy is the water
that tempers - that uproots
house and crops
that changes course
so ‘Tomorrow’ may eat
scoop ... a fist full to quench de’Soul
Blue Mountain is a
aloofting wonder - in western’s scope
givin’ de’world
a new soundin’ Music
a new Rhythm … so sweet - yeah.

At It’s foothills
weighted from the greed of man
Kiloo-She sheds - bloody waters
from Red Hills to Wareika Hills
Patrick City, Maverly an’ Central Kingston
Spanish Town to Winward Road
Mountain View, Hagley Park
Slipe Road, Constant Spring and the Boulevard
back-drops this onslaughter
and still - talent - flourishes an international viewer
the hungry - downtrodden
STANDS proud - in the uncertainty of the unknown
the un and under-educated
teaches - as it’s the humble and defiant who can
 

the imprisoned
leads - it’s they who
thirst the wind against their faces
the timid, physically - mentally challenged
moves mountains as Blue Mountain
the Kilimanjaro is their foundation
They are the People - who are now known
in this time ... as Jamaicans!


It’s at … Blue Mountain’s Peak
My Kilimanjaro is sweet
on Its banks
Children find - things to keep
and in Its belly
Elders hunt - the Village meat
within Its mystery
Dreamers discover and reaffirm
Cultures - like these Mountains NEVER dies
exotic is the Land
Birds and Peoples
known by Our size
water and stamina
and accepted for
Our beauty - balance and fortitude
Jamaica’s Kilooo … Kilooo~manjaro
it’s at … Blue Mountain’s Peak … fa’
inna de’middle a’de Sun heat
cane sug’a, so~so flour an’a zinc pan
will ‘row’ a’boat to shore - e~as~ily
a’ cart-wheel dumplin’
an’a cheese pan a’ government juice - will
wash a’wyan’s troubles to sleep - fe true.
 
When it rains
it pours
sometimes
it’s the only water
that runs
through the City Streets
Kilooo … Kilimanjaro is sweet
quenches the thirst
causes gas to bowel the belly
FOOD … is sweet
Koolooo … It cools the tar - and
washes yesterday’s garbage
that paves
the Inner City Streets - and
the Little-Children find it soothing
to Their dirty feet.

Bammy and Doctor fish
Ackee and Excelser Biscuit
Bun an’ Cheese
guava, mango and june-plum
stick betwixt de’teet’
soursop, tangerine and papaya
guinep, tamarind, stinkin’-toe an’ t’ings
cyan spot Yuh clean clothe iee --
la~arks ... move out’a de’way
meck Mi feel de’Mountain’s breeze
the smell of run-doung - roast corn
tu’n-ripe breshie an’ roast fish
a’ loaf~a~hot bread
de’smellie taste of a’ jus’ bake patty
slap between a’ well-warm coco-bread
a cola champagne, ginger-ale or
de’juice from a’ young-ripe jelly coconut - heals the Soul
as the poverty of starvation
is NOT a custom fe’Wi
bang Wi belly an’ suffer de’pain
fe’Wi Pickney’s Future
Wi nah work in vain

We are those who are known
in these times … as Yardies.

While de’tunes and vibes
of the Market places
wines de’Women’s hips
to the highest grooves
of whatever is
in season or out’a season
inna virtual reality
de’Man Dem - dey watch de’horse race
doung’a Caymanas
while a’ Tom Shop - de’Street Jockey
dey ride a’ winner
as Wi dey eye-out
announcer’s Rhythms
pon de’transistor radio
virtual i-ride-ability
don’t bounce Mi jockey … rrride ‘im bwoy - ride!
hey, gi Mi a’ cold wyan
till de’jerk set-up
chooo ... cho~man
ride ‘im bwoy!
oh yes, she broke stoplight
kuh de’batty - pon miss Mary’s gyal Pickney
r~r~ride bwoy - ride!

Dem’a pang-ga-rang
a’ pang-ga-rang - doung’a Kingston Street
dem’a pang-ga-rang
pang-ga-rang - doung’a Killsome City
young Bwoys Dem
Dem’a dance to de’beat
de’young Girls Dem
a’ love so~o~o sweet
Reggae Rhythm a’de defiance
whey meck de’Dau’tas Dem - kiss Dem teeth
an’ de’Man Dem ‘tep - militantly --
som’a Country Bunkan - while
som’a exaggerate ‘bout
de’livin’ up’a Capitol City

Others - Dey fly guh foreign
like how some foreigners teck taxi
a’Wi run t’ings
fa’ t’ings nuh blood ~ chooo
t’ings - nuh run Wi
bad to de’bones
nu’bady nuh rough like - a’ Yardiee! - AND
despite the surreptitious, covetous and envy of We
a’We - wid a’back ‘gainst a’wall
dey all ov’a de’world
a’bun-doung oppressor’s shit~stems
We are those - who are know
as Jamaicans
in these times - bad iee
givin’ de’world
a new soundin’ Music
a new Rhythm … so sweet - yeah.