



2024 All Rights Reserved
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In creative solidarity, Dee




2024 All Rights Reserved
Like what you see? To never miss a post click HERE👈 to subscribe & follow the blog. There’s more HERE👈 and on Spillwords & Facebook.
In creative solidarity, Dee
A well-lived year is like well-worn boots
Filled up with memories grounded in roots
Sprouting, growing in all the right places
Changing, evolving, transforming spaces
Boots worn laid in waste
Till nature took ‘em over
Unexpectedly

Contributing to Sadje’s WDYS #167
2023 ©Dawn Minott All Rights Reserved
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In creative solidarity, Dee
Between breath of life—inhaling
LIVING
LIVING today like there’s no tomorrow
LIVING like you’re on borrowed time
LIVING like death may find you in this moment
LIVING like life’s the unfolding of a gift, divine
Let not your life go by without
LIVING, before kiss of death—life exhaling!
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A triplet were they, Misters Slick, Slicker, Slickest
Wagered all they owned to win survival of the fittest
Their dollars grew wings and flew from their sight
They tried to explain this with all of their might
See, hear, speak not of this evil
Outwitted were they by game shark Bo D’vil
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“Wickedest city on earth”, so was called the Port
Port Royal, on the Palisadoes a mere 15 miles from the center of Kingston, Jamaica
Jamaica, where back in the 17th century t’was home to the real pirates of the Caribbean—a haven
Haven to a den of buccaneers, privateers, slavers and prostitutes
Prostitutes who flavored brothels, taverns, and drinking halls
Halls of debauchery frequented by the biggest names from the age of piracy, including Calico
Calico Jack, when the black cat crossed his path knew it portended a disaster which later unfolded that fateful day in June
June 7, 1692 to be exact
Exact at 11:43 a.m. (so told by time frozen on a watch), that the earth would quake
Quake at a 7.5 magnitude
Magnitude-measured disaster so horrible, many said it was God’s
God’s hand of vengeance
Vengeance on a wicked city
City of folly, for it had been built on sand
Sand foundations that liquefied when the quake shook
Shook the earth so vehemently it sucked whole buildings, roads and people straight into the ground
Ground sucked down to the bottom of the sea
Sea that in turn churned up a tsunami
Tsunami that crashed over walls—33 acres of the city disappeared
Disappeared beneath the sea—taking 2,000 souls, and later another 3,000 perished from the population
Population of a city that had been cut in half, some say through retribution
Retribution? I do not know but 5,000 souls— transformed to letters
Letters that float off the pages of storybooks to form the tale true of the raucous pirate city of Port Royal


After-word: Port Royal—often considered the Pompeii of the sea—was designated a UNESCO Heritage Site in 1999. Today, it’s a small coastal village and bears no resemblance to the city of sin it once had been. It is hoped that a revitalization of the ruins will inspire eco-tourism and an increase in the small city’s revenue — perhaps restoring it to the wealthy glory it once knew in the 17th-century.
Thank you for journeying along on this historical recount, told through loop poetry, of my paradise home—Jamaica.
First time to the site? Welcome! You may start here👈 and for more follow the blog here👈
In creative solidarity, Dee
Mean old man Alaqueshus Slay
Climbed up the castle on a stormy day
He refused to pay what he owed the wizard
Who changed him into a oversized-winged lizard

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First time to the site? Welcome! You may start here👈 and for more follow the blog here👈
In creative solidarity, Dee
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