Featured Poem:
Counseling Crime
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Featured Poem:
Counseling Crime
Yard mon likkle bwoy come from ‘round de way
Tek time, gonna fly from his early day
Yard mon bigga bwoy teach dem how fi run
Aweh to cold habitat and further from de sun
Yard mon likkle man runnin’ from de blue
Tek time for de crime, captivate fi true!
Big mon cross de mon, mon go sen’ ‘im weh
Down to de Caribbean to mek de yardie pay
Black criminality’s on the rise
But that depends on if you see reality through uncorrected eyes
Collected I surmise that stats don’t tell the story
How my people get assigned to another category
It’s like playing Scattergories – some people play the game
While the others on the sidelines must deal with all the blame
I know I hit a vein when the shame blush your face
I’m giving you a taste of the peeps you can’t replace
When you ride them on a rail out of town cuffed up
held like chattel for the slaughter get ‘em booked and roughed up
We blame the land of origin who send the malcontents
When they learned the business here from the time of innocence
To the moment that they realize that Canada’s a fraud
Gavel licks the tabletop, they lock you in a pod
The time it takes to strap ‘em in a seat upon a plane
Is just long enough to exorcise our undiluted shame
The lessons of the world were taught to youth upon our streets
It’s funny how we do this then we kick them on their seats
For if we take the challenge of correcting our mistakes
Then we stop dumping criminals in unrelated states
Yard mon likkle bwoy come from ‘round de way
Tek time, gonna fly from his early day
Yard mon bigga bwoy teach dem how fi run
Aweh to cold habitat and further from de sun
Yard mon likkle man runnin’ from de blue
Tek time for de crime, captivate fi true!
Big mon cross de mon, mon go sen’ ‘im weh
Down to de Caribbean to mek de yardie pay
The criminals that make the news that came from other lands
And were given all the privileges we place in children’s hands
They learned it from the man but made a fateful trip
When they failed to understand the need to grab citizenship
Too late to get a grip and hold all that they wanted
When the courts dispensing justice if the rule of law is flaunted
The sentencing is over and the chance for mercy gone
With the counsel for the Queen of England chatting on the lawn
“The justice system worked, the perpetrator pays
Reuniting with the country where he learned his evil ways”
But hold up when I say that we are evil evermore
When a child is sent away to unfamiliar foreign shores
Surroundings that impound the chance to learn and to forgive
And the comment on our culture is we’ll kick you in the ribs
So send to us your immigrants to reinforce our ranks
We’ll pick all of the good ones, toss the bad with no thanks
Then as the ultimate prank the scum that we created
We’ll ship down to the Caribbean as some twisted favour
This disassociation that we never once debated
Makes our country to those nations little better than the slaver
Yard mon likkle bwoy come from ‘round de way
Tek time, gonna fly from his early day
Yard mon bigga bwoy teach dem how fi run
Aweh to cold habitat and further from de sun
Yard mon likkle man runnin’ from de blue
Tek time for de crime, captivate fi true!
Big mon cross de mon, mon go sen’ ‘im weh
Down to de Caribbean to mek de yardie pay
© A. Gregory Frankson, 2003. All rights reserved.
Yard mon likkle bwoy come from ‘round de way
Tek time, gonna fly from his early day
Yard mon bigga bwoy teach dem how fi run
Aweh to cold habitat and further from de sun
Yard mon likkle man runnin’ from de blue
Tek time for de crime, captivate fi true!
Big mon cross de mon, mon go sen’ ‘im weh
Down to de Caribbean to mek de yardie pay
Black criminality’s on the rise
But that depends on if you see reality through uncorrected eyes
Collected I surmise that stats don’t tell the story
How my people get assigned to another category
It’s like playing Scattergories – some people play the game
While the others on the sidelines must deal with all the blame
I know I hit a vein when the shame blush your face
I’m giving you a taste of the peeps you can’t replace
When you ride them on a rail out of town cuffed up
held like chattel for the slaughter get ‘em booked and roughed up
We blame the land of origin who send the malcontents
When they learned the business here from the time of innocence
To the moment that they realize that Canada’s a fraud
Gavel licks the tabletop, they lock you in a pod
The time it takes to strap ‘em in a seat upon a plane
Is just long enough to exorcise our undiluted shame
The lessons of the world were taught to youth upon our streets
It’s funny how we do this then we kick them on their seats
For if we take the challenge of correcting our mistakes
Then we stop dumping criminals in unrelated states
Yard mon likkle bwoy come from ‘round de way
Tek time, gonna fly from his early day
Yard mon bigga bwoy teach dem how fi run
Aweh to cold habitat and further from de sun
Yard mon likkle man runnin’ from de blue
Tek time for de crime, captivate fi true!
Big mon cross de mon, mon go sen’ ‘im weh
Down to de Caribbean to mek de yardie pay
The criminals that make the news that came from other lands
And were given all the privileges we place in children’s hands
They learned it from the man but made a fateful trip
When they failed to understand the need to grab citizenship
Too late to get a grip and hold all that they wanted
When the courts dispensing justice if the rule of law is flaunted
The sentencing is over and the chance for mercy gone
With the counsel for the Queen of England chatting on the lawn
“The justice system worked, the perpetrator pays
Reuniting with the country where he learned his evil ways”
But hold up when I say that we are evil evermore
When a child is sent away to unfamiliar foreign shores
Surroundings that impound the chance to learn and to forgive
And the comment on our culture is we’ll kick you in the ribs
So send to us your immigrants to reinforce our ranks
We’ll pick all of the good ones, toss the bad with no thanks
Then as the ultimate prank the scum that we created
We’ll ship down to the Caribbean as some twisted favour
This disassociation that we never once debated
Makes our country to those nations little better than the slaver
Yard mon likkle bwoy come from ‘round de way
Tek time, gonna fly from his early day
Yard mon bigga bwoy teach dem how fi run
Aweh to cold habitat and further from de sun
Yard mon likkle man runnin’ from de blue
Tek time for de crime, captivate fi true!
Big mon cross de mon, mon go sen’ ‘im weh
Down to de Caribbean to mek de yardie pay
© A. Gregory Frankson, 2003. All rights reserved.
All work on this website is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.5 South Africa License.
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