Jamaican Roots

Poem about a Jamaican heritage. Part of the 'Lines from the train ride' series

Jamaican Roots

 

As I neaten the tie,

Polish my shoes,

Hoping I don't lose,

My Jamaican roots.

 

Not just talking blunts and zoots,

More the spicy patties.

A Red Stripe too.

 

Drop into Norwood to hit Bluejays,

Grab some munch.

Whilst soaking up the last remains,

Of the ungentrified touch.

 

Swarmed by culture.

A bit of Beres and the Toots.

Singing as I clutch on to,

My Jamaican roots.

 

And how could I forget Nesta,

The reason a lot of us dance or prosper,

Why we smile and seek,

The melodic happiness he created for the world to keep.

 

Then there's elders preaching folktales,

Wide eyes now closed,

To vividly imagine,

Bright flashes of vibrant green, red, and yellow. 

 

Joyous memories,

As flags flew high.

Glee all round,

Recalling when Salasie ventured town.

 

So many Rastas in force,

Sporting their crowns,

Leads me to ponder,

Will real liberation come so we can head to a true home?

 

A typical tropical island,

Winning hearts with passion and desire.

And mad little phrases,

Like 'lick-shot' and 'fire'.

 

Connected to the earth,

In spirit and soul.

Inexcusably fighting stereotypes,

Both current and old.

 

Many focus on the negative,

Leaving us leaping through unrealistic hoops.

Regardless I hope I don't lose.

My Jamaican roots.

Reviews

[LMMDN]

Good rhythm and rhyme scheme, but I feel you could have used better synonyms to add a deeper meaning to the poem. Just my opinion, very good poem overall.

[Owen Aldin]

Thank you, I agree I couldn't quite reach the depths I had hoped considering I used to term roots in the title. Thanks for the advice!