Here's a poem I wrote about the experiences of a Bahamian family in a hurricane. The father tells the tale.It is written in Bahamianese which is a form of broken english or dialect that is commonly spoken here in The Bahamas, even though we are masters of 'the Queen's english'. :)
Annuder Haracane Comin'!
Anudder haracane comin
I can't take no more
Gatta battin-up ma windas agin
An' lock-down tight ma door
In dese crazy lass days
haracanes comin by da score
Dis' one comin' fass an’ true
No matter what I wish
Back agin to da corner shop
For water an' tuna-fish
I need more good plywood
For dis angry devil in da sky,
But dat greedy man daan dere
Done raise da price sky high
Need ta full ma car tank
Wit gas what scarce an’ so dear
Don't know what for anyhow
Cause I een drivin' no where
An da gas line so long
I feel I could hardly bear
Back home we finish battin-up quick
I hungry an' iss eatin’ time
Wife say "Haa yall 'spek ta eat tuna-fish
If yall een bring no lime!"
I say "Dese haracanes get me all mix-up
Cause I feel like I gern out my mine!"
We all done lock-down naa
In my house-prison safe an' tight
Dis one gon hit us like a boom
In da middle a da night
It reach! It reach!
It ‘pon top a us right now
Light off, water off
Who need dem anyhow
An' yinna chirren shut up
Dis een no time ta row
I peep tru one lil hole
An' see da rain an' mighty breeze
People even walkin' in da streets
Dey fool naa, mudda freeze!
Coconut tree dem ben' right down
Lord only you could help us, please
Ma crops done gone, so much I loose
Banana, corn an' peas
Water risin', shingle flyin'
Hope we make it till mornin'
Lord what kinda lan' dis is
I gone an’ get born in?
Naa dis a real haracane
Hope ma house could stand da proof
"Stop up dat water wit some towel
'Fore we hafta go in da roof!"
Lord please save us
Water comin’ in everywhere
Chirren, wife, grammy and da dog
All stanin’ up on chair
Erryting quiet naa
I gone outside ta spy
What dat man on da radio jess say?
Oh Jesus! Dis only da eye
I haul-hip back inside
For more safety an' protection
Naa da breeze blowin' twice as hard
An' comin' from da nex' direction
Lord dis me agin
I gern ta see Pastor Lundy,
‘Cause Lord if you get us tru dis
I gon be in church erry Sundy
Vell da sun up an' it over now
Look like we bin' tru war
Hear me now Fadda Jesus
Doon sen’ no haracane no more.
Cutlass chappin’, chainsaw buzzin’
A familiar soun’ in da air,
Time for us to go an’ pick up
Half-ripe hog plum an’ pear.
Tings gettin' back in order
It gon be a good day
Whatchu say Mr. Wedderman?
Anudder one on da way?
Vell I gat plenty experience naa
Cause dese haracanes doon play,
An' tanks for hearin' my prayers Lord
An' sparin' us anudder day.
derek catalano (c)2004.
