The More Things Change: From Montage of Articles & Columns
on Social and Economic Development
(c) KrisRampersadArchives2016
Dear Father Tony,
Please hear my plea,
To revive the economy
Try that city key
Tho of you and me
Dey making bobolee
And the poor already
Heading to vagrancy
Save this country
We call La Trinity
I may call you that, Dear Father Tony, may I not, although we is not family, we are still part of the Trini famalee and the human famalee, part of the same national journey on the same ship, and I was part of your empire on the media side for most of me journalistic life and that was how some referred to you in revered whispers though others had less reverent terms; and it may be said, ’twas in your empire whence I cut meh journalistic tooth and whence my career was birthed and so you really are meh father in some sense of the word, eh Tony!
Just when the immortelles in their blaze of glory mock the
raging bushfires which like the social un-conscience casts in its wake this
monstrous – ‘not at all like proper children’ of Robert Louis Stevenson‘s Shadow over
the land in this wild unconscionable rampage of slash-and-burn of forests,
flora, fauna, wildlife, tree limbs, any limbs, any life of man, woman, children
or whatever may be also good and natural, eh?
Just when the yellow and pink and lilac poui blossoms like Asami Nagasaki’s Japanese cherry blossoms are beginning to peep out through their-green
leaves on the plains, valleys, hills and mountain tops, shyly then defiantly
daring the monstrous -not-at-all-like-proper, dece
nt well-formed – fires of slash-and-burn
to charge into them too, because they going down singing and dancing and
clapping and celebrating – you, Irmes, ups and jus out out jus so jus so, eh?