The first time I met her she was caressing soca
To the rhythm of my dreams
And I wanted to have her, to keep.
Saw beyond her endless curves and
Some version of Black Opal’s ‘Just Right’ makeup,
Beneath all that wiry charm and getup
Was a lady waiting to exhale,
And let the rest of her life be saved
If the moment was just right
And the words spoken this tight
She might remember her grandmother recite
“Knights in shining armour
Don’t come to the Caribbean,
We learn how to make Pirates into Kings.
The songs this region sings
Are filled with whispers of war!
As I watched her court the music
I saw years of despair disappear.
Each genre exposing a part of her
The world would scarcely encounter
Cause she had secrets that she only shared with soca,
And now, me.
Angel without wings I want you;
Need to show you where your wings are,
Teach you to fly again so we could swim with the stars
We won’t need a control tower,
Cause we could take off from this bar,
Just hold my hand and close your eyes,
I’ll make a happy memory scar.
I know people like you
Who let it all out to music
Cause you’re scared to let others in,
But you won’t know how fast you could fly
If you never embrace the wind.
You can’t see the beauty around you
If you never let go that cloud.
The tears won’t get drowned out
When the music gets loud
This DJ won’t ‘one’ drop the smiles
And cross fade the shouts,
Echo the good times and
Rewind the pouts,
You only get one play per song.
But I met you at a bar
And a colourful world like mine doesn’t belong in a pub
So I drank my last shot of whiskey and walked out
Still smelling your perfume from across the room
Like Angel’s Dust on a witch’s broom,
Caressing me like you did music,
That golden moment when I met you.
Like the perfect song, or the tightest hug,
I’ll remember the way your head rolls back all the way when you laugh
And I know I’ll have you ‘Angel of the Night’.
Maybe one graveyard hour when the moon is just right,
When I could whisper this poem to the light behind your eyes,
Cause I like variety like that.
And special moments happen everywhere,
In some random bar, at the bottom of your stairs
Or two paces from the streetlight
Where I felt compelled to write
Don’t forget I see the nightmares burning everything you touch,
And I thought that maybe if you had poetry,
You wouldn’t need the music that much.
So before I closed the door,
I left this poem on your couch,
So that when you sit,
Tired after a night at the club,
There’s another way to get it out.
– Josiah C. Bayne –
POEM – I Wish (Part 1)
I wish someday I’ll be brave enough to say how I really feel
To tell you that of all the fishes in the sea,
You’re the one that favours my reel
And I thought to myself the moment I met you that this one could possibly steal
But like Neo, I’m sick of love songs,
They’re too sad and slow,
But I can’t turn off the radio
Cause the memories still flow,
And the rise and ebb of the tide
Keeps me warm when I’m cold,
I just wish you could someday know.
Wish that seed of hope
Would finally grow,
Brave the concrete beds upon which they were thrown
And reach for the sky;
This time, I want to be the reason you relearn to fly,
Together we’ll chart the skies,
And kiss the lofty heights,
Just you and I.
Why does she cry?
Or rather, why does she cry this time?
Is it for her many broken hearts
Or the miseries she’s survived?
Could it be for the ones she kept inside
Or the many times she’s tried to smile?
Skin gone way past plain vanilla
Now more like some kind of ripple,
Waves of colour across one cheek
And two dangerous scars near her left nipple
Has her cold-sweating on floors
As cold as any night she could remember.
Maybe it was the time in May or the one in mid-November,
Maybe it was the one she dismembered in her mind,
Late one night
After the last fight
Maybe it was the one that made her decide
She’d rather be alone with her fragmented life.
The one she thought would be her final righteous thought
And the last time he believed that he bought
Only he didn’t…
He bought her mind;
Cause days after he was long gone she’d still feel him inside,
And no printed paper, no matter the size
Could pay for the pain she fought with inside.
And I want YOU to feel it.
See the memories rolling down her cheeks as she tells it
To her daughter
Before he caught her
Thrift store stories a mile a minute
And she’s the only one fit to tell it,
And yes, there’s always a yearning,
Even beneath the groaning, discoloured smile she paints on every morning.
Justice will be served as her final warning,
She knew he wouldn’t see it coming.
But you see, she doesn’t know that I craft these stories from her pain
So she won’t ever have to feel them again
Let go of that desire to hold on to the strain
You’re never alone in your darkness and the sun must shine again
Such is the circle of life.
And we know its never completely all right
But you’ve seen worst, you’ll make it through tonight
Never without a fight,
Just don’t take your eyes off that light
At the end of the tunnel
Its more than just a train comin’.
Sometimes I wish I could draw my thoughts on a canvas larger than the sky
So the whole world could see when my heart smiles, or cries
Cause sometimes I’m not brave enough to ask for help.
So instead I give…
Ideas and dreams
With little slivers of hope sewn in at the seams
Two shades off from blood red
I saw one solitary tear touch the bed
And felt that I should write instead.
And here it is,
No. Here I am!
Open heart and outstretched arms
Begging for a change of plan
One drop of hope in an open palm
Break through the turmoil to embrace the calm
I’ll start the change… Here’s my hand!
By: Josiah C. Bayne
There is no better time than the present. Today, I start a journey into writing and I invite the world to accompany me as I discover myself.
This is my first step.