Poetry: "O YEA! O YEA!....

Justice Fox  presiding
God save the Queen!"
Far though she may be
from the heart of the matter
the strains of
Blue beat swirl
around Buckingham
For the defense
Patterson
Spaulding
Then young radicals of
The bar
Looking to make
grander names for themselves
Amid the rabid audience
And set the stage
For coming political
Stardom
With testimony from Corporal Pennycooke, Conchita,
doctors, players
And others who can no longer
tell tales
Insanity a convenient exit
For a crew struggling to
take the wheel
Of a vehicle careening 
toward it's own
Redemption
The driver having long since
Relinquished control
His gaze fixed on a point
Indiscernible to
Everyone else
The knife a
blood-stained
Signpost pointing out
A cul-de-sac
A sharp change in direction
A double edged
Destiny
For the Man

The music
The nation

Poetry: 'Neita and Junie

She
in the way of
Jamaican girls
had a fondness for
pet names
Junie
Malungu
and doubtless many others that have not
entered into legend
He
long since preferring
Notes to names
scarcely mentioned hers
not even on that
fateful night
The air still redolent with the
breaths of a new nation
the clatter of
Morgan's Independence boots still
echoing in the stillness
Oh if only he had clutched
the instrument
and not the knife so tightly
If only he had come to greet her
with a new song
than with the old
rage
A distemper well known to resound
and even overwhelm
that Wareika hovel
But there would be no more artistry that night
and in truth not
ever
For a glorious if troubled career
lay near-impaled upon a
blade
like the fishmonger's daughter
a legacy left hanging
a tantalizing tragedy
luring many in the ensuing decades
drawn by the eerie luminosity of
what might have been