Editor’s note: This is the first post in a series entitled “DPC Poetry” which is being brought to you by DNO and Domnichen Poetic Circle (DPC) which describes itself as “a Literary Circle of Contemporary Poets, and Spoken Word Artists who hail from, and are descended from the Nature Isle of the Caribbean – Dominica.” The feature will be published every Friday. This first poem was written by Carla T.
On the bus!!
Sometimes I take the bus…
Those buses which ply the Caribbean roads…
People parked tight in small moving spaces… going places…
Their thoughts everywhere…
As the music blares.
Sometimes there’s talking
Or some kind of friendly jabbing…
Or some gossip mongering…
At other times, one can become spellbound by someone…
Or something…
And so it was for me that day…
He entered the bus
Tall, dark, lanky young man…
With plaited hair…
Head and body bent so that his frame could fit in the seat…
Gently holding his precious bundle close to his chest…
I look at them…
His face holds a serious countenance….
His long fingers caress his bundle
But he does not really smile…
I look at the precious bundle…
So pretty…
So full of promise of a whole life ahead!
Is his demeanor a sign of anxiety…
Will he be able to look after her…
His one month old daughter…
Is the relationship with her mother….
The lady who entered the bus ahead of them…
Will it last…or will they fight like dog and cat by the time she is two years old…
Getting a court order for his visitation and child support!!
I couldn’t help thinking…
Is he a young man in a gang…
If so…
Will he survive….not die…on the streets..become a statistic…
Like other young men….and not see her turn five!!!
I wondered…
Was the weight of all these things on his mind….
As he played with her…
Was he feeling the pressure of the harsh economic times…
The growing cost of utilities…
The selling of people’s land…
The current political climate…
Was he thinking about how it would affect her life!!!
I glanced at them…
A young man holding his baby girl,
Like precious cargo…
He seemed consumed by her….in awe of her…
His prime need was to protect her…
A wonderful time for both…
For at this age she is helpless…
Should I tell him…how mean she will get at thirteen…
This pretty little thing who won’t remain that tiny for long…
I sense the weight of all that being a parent means…
As I watch them…
I smile…
And think….
Maybe I am just too ‘fast’…
Too jaded by age, experience and circumstances..
That I can see far beyond this moment…
Of a father and his innocent, beautiful baby daughter…
As I sat on the bus!!!
loved it
Well done! Very moving! Keep it up young lady.
Wow, loved it! Kept me entranced from beginning to end.
The power of poetry. Captivating, nice flow. Totally attention grabbing. Lovely, Carla.
I am not a lover of poetry, but this one was a beautiful story, spoken in order from the start to the end. I could not help loving it!
Carla this is a remarkable showing of high level creativity. I thoroughly enjoyed the ride.
Beautifully written. I was tranported on this bus journey seeing exactly what the writer has written of this young man and his daughter.
Well done Carla Astaphan!
A lovely reads…A typically day ride on the bus in Dominica!..Where noone is a stranger for just a moments..Where life stories is shred and peoples laugh..All pack in a small bus..Destined for differ stops on the land…
Nice capture and story/poem told, Carla T.
This is really a niece piece I really felt. Thx girl.
I love it! Great feature DNO. Looking forward to the other poems.
This is awesome! A fantastic read! Thank you Carla T