Mind’s Heart

A phrase suggesting a synergy between logic and emotion. This is what I tries to accomplish in my works of poetry. The arrival of my second book, ‘Dialogue’ is now available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble and Authorhouse Bookstore. The e-book version should follow soon however the book is live and available for sale. It brings me great joy to put this work on the market because I had so much fun putting together the collection of poems and the emotional range inspired mental and emotional growth. Below I can share with you my opening thoughts:


sku-0011171451‘This book was born from a promise that I made at the end of my first book, ‘Living Through 2016 – Beyond Fiction’. The philosophy and ideas shared there prepare us for a dialogue that I believe, is not only necessary but nurturing for the individual seeker. Here I continue to reach out to the traveler on the path through a different vehicle. My need to express myself led me to this genre of poetry where I thoroughly enjoyed my expression knowing that I could reach persons in a way that I was longing to experience. I would love to say that I have shared all of myself but once again this is just another beginning. To peel back the skin of the onion is a beautiful experience and I am loving the experiences as I share parts of myself with you for the enrichment of our collective consciousness.

The work is set up in three parts, ‘How I see me’, ‘How I see you’ and ‘How I see us’. It is a celebration of sight, feeling and knowing all wrapped up in one. May it mean many things for you at once but always nurture the seeker in you.’

The flavor has changed however the focus remains the same, communicating and expressing the need for shared experience in a world that does not give us the answers neatly wrapped in a bow. As developments take place and versions of the book become available I will update persons through my blog and other sources. For now I am elated to introduce:

cover – dialogue

‘Dialogue: From Mind’s Heart to Yours’










Hi guys out there in WordPress land, I have a strange request. I got an email from a company called Legaia Books, and they concerned a magazine called ‘Paperclips’. My task here is to ask for your assistance in finding out about this publication and company. If you know of either of them please send me a comment to indicate such. This can help with some project decisions that I am trying to make.

Thank you and this is appreciated.


A Day!!

A day can be protected!

Selfishly guarded to ensure

That only certain thoughts

Can breach your consciousness

Distract your focus

And corrupt your purpose.

After many times, one day!

To think your thoughts………

And review battles fought,

Until all is reduced to nought.

Because once they are in,

The world starts again

To dictate what you are thinking,

Your lips move

But brain disproves of what you’re saying.

Why is it so hard

For you to find you?

To understand what you are saying,

Lost in the game they are playing.

Our feelings betraying,

A subtlety that we don’t

Identify as our own.

The source of our discomfort yet



Competitively participating,

In an integrated approach,

At securing a future for


Social media, email,

Perfect tools to hide

The ghosts in the detail,

As agendas are stripped for resale.

Compete first, consult as a last resort,

Sell the strong points,

Doctor the report,

Just business they purport.

In this selfish grab

For abundant resources,

To the victor goes

All the spoils.

Now cut off from source

And kin,

The stage is set,

Next phase can begin.

Where will you turn

When the pressure is great,

Where will you run

When they reveal our fate?

The declaration

That the battle is forfeit,

The strong suspicion

That the war is over with.

All that is left

Are prisoners in our minds,

Wishing for a different reality

Hoping for a better story

Longing for integration in society

Swearing that we deserve better.

When the worst of us

Decides our destiny,

There is no surprise

To notice stymied trajectory.

Which is the greater tragedy

That we participated willingly,

Or that we slept

Through revolution blindly.


I feel a pain within,

Intensity mild but consistent,

Almost tangible like breath,

Heart hurting.

Exacerbated by thinking,

Linked to feeling,

But only just.

It’s like a pain of being.

A pain too mild to be a pain,

But its paining my brain,

Advil, Panadol can’t restrain,

The beginning of responsibility.

I feel this PAIN through me,

But feel it for everybody,

I can’t explain really,

It’s driving me crazy.

It’s like if I don’t feel it,

I’m dead.

Dead inside without it,

My pain teaches me,

While simultaneously hurting my memory,

Of self.

I can’t remember me,

Through the pain I now see,

On the face of others.

You see, it’s not about me,

Pain comes in mild waves

To echo activity in this reality,

And possibly even others.

I’ve bonded with my pain,

And here it comes again,

Now open like an antenna,

Hinting to an openness in matter,

I surrender to divine chatter.



The day comes once a year and everyone stops whatever they are doing to either focus on mothers or pretend that they are. We humans love our routines and it is a lovely gesture for those of us with mothers and grandmothers to spend time acknowledging their sacrifice. I applaud all of it and witness that it is an easy opportunity to show how nice and warm humanity can be. It creates family cohesiveness and in the era of the selfie, my god, mother will never be forgotten because of all the pictures.

I am sure that by now you sence the ‘but’ in my words. But I lament that this outpouring of love and appreciation is an automatic gesture that does not highlight the fact that we are not teaching our young women to be mothers anymore and are not emphasizing the responsibility to prepare proper children and support and strengthen the family unit. Our modern world fosters a different kind of mother who at times compromises on critical values to make this new ideology work. We are finally at the stage where the old idea about mothers have all but disappeared and we call this progress. The older heads now who are called grandparents now would hardly stand up to the scrutiny of the mothers of old. But the pedestal has already been set and we celebrate all mothers on a particular day, regardless of their accomplishments or failings. I apologise for bringing such a heavy view to such a cherished day, but I will try to save the message. Mothers day should be likened to new years day, where every mother upon receiving acknowledgement would resolve to do better the next year because our societies are slipping and you hold such an important position.


So, Happy Mother’s Day………

The clock resets tomorrow.


Snuffed out!


Snuffed out!

When culture meets


What is the



Fishing nets,


Only speculation,

From an on looking



Social media


How many ways

Do we fantasize

About motive, method?


Seems like emotions

Are heightened,

Citizens frightened,

But for what?


No external boss,

Planning our demise,

No invading force,

Prompting us to rise,

In solidarity.


This attack is from within,

Born of what was

Not quite a culture,

Now a nightmare,

That stuffs women in freezers!


Burn them by ex-lovers,

Submerge them in salt waters,

Kidnap them with impunity.


Emotion paralysing brain,

Loss for words,

Then the refrain:

‘It eh easy out day nah’.


So goodbye to our ghetto reporter,

So long to our banking daughter,

Regrets for our Police mother,

Still looking for the X-trail driver.



What do we tell our children,

Boy or girl,

How do we prepare them,

To continue to contribute

To this mayhem?


The government will save us,

Raise G.D.P. and Caricom status,

Crime Plan after Crime Plan,

While we, remain us.






Doom and gloom projections,

More than a dozen religions,

Race and class division,

Mixed race pariah

Finds no salvation.


2017 Human condition,

Drowning in a sea of choices,

Lost amidst disorganised voices,

The one percenter rejoices.


You struggle to find yourself,

A self that you are missing,

Stronger than the self witnessing,

The carnage of everyday debasing

of self.


Where do we develop such longing,

Among selfishness while scorning weakness,

Any act of human kindness

Now relegated to waste and foolishness.


We hide ourselves,

Pretending to be cruel,

Avoiding the victim role,

Until no pretending is necessary.


There is no enemy,

Just us mimicking hypocrisy,

Killing society,

With our desire to fit in………



I am just coming back from a period of being lost within my life. Events overlaid on events to ensure that I am completely consumed. It’s possible that there is a message here that I am attempting too much at once or that my methods are not working but then I woke up this morning thinking about my blog and how long its been since I really posted anything. So this is therapy for a life out of control, a man who understands that control might be a myth but chooses to power through this perception thinking that he is making a difference.


Being many things for many people can take a toll, especially if you can’t come up for air when you want to. So I survived this bout of managing conflict and though I still can’t do the ‘cup half full’ thing yet, I just wish that these distractions would not affect my creativity. My desire to write should be immune from this stuff but it is not.


While I have some freedom from the B.S. and feel to share, let me go put in some work. Enjoy your day and take yourself seriously enough to prioritize your emotions and events. It’s worth a try right…………..