Author: FarJourney Caribbean

12/23/2025

To brace, enduring like our great grandparents
is no saved feat; their arms reaching out (for sunrise
no paint brush) folded the recreation of yard life^
stock + cicada all nighters.

Breast or leg preference came later;
how long, they wondered + the labour
how much it took to raise those UK castle
stones . lay pay OK?

……………………….

The seawall blocked us from the shower
stall . its head serve firmer than hands ‘n’
bucket, birds ‘n’ bush. Another reason
streamers fancied Independence so.

Until you learn to find ‘n’ bless the heart
flesh pounder respect its mystery | chest
bare you not supposed to wheel ‘n’ seek. Ah,
now you see . so we lick tempers stay.

…………………

New habitats keep rising, sans roof galvanize,
calls close on high ways for dark horses. Fastest  
growing egg plants this side of earth warming
scrap shells heap.

Still the game for pump ‘n’ rigs the ocean
belly blues confirm . only sky divers know
where our dorados lay deep waiting. Ah,
now you see . on coast watch we there ovulating.

• W.W.
  

YUH RAP SO (6.2)

In The Bush that didn’t give a shite how slight
Or high its tenants + tourists rated its
Seasonless simplicity rapt + apart
From people’s perverse pride in the harsh hairshirts
Of straining ambition + competition
& measuring towards any fruition
In the hothouse + circus of artifice
Whose noise was nada beside the silent voice
Of the stolid trees ignorant of all names:

– how bloody creepily mere clearings become
paths, thought Thomasson about to break his pause
& keep walking forward over gold-shadows

   (from Raponani by Brian Chan, 2023)

The more i feel my body – such as it is –
No – was – now just a memory of its form-
rising though it knows it should be lying still
never again to wake to mask as a clown
of seriousness with its smile of despair^
don’t i know how the ego in its coffin
of suffocation self-afflicted – all death
a variety of suicide – suffers
for its soul having abandoned its body
to its dark complacent self-indulgent rot^
what an ass that bland brayer on a sea-wall
letting the waves fool him he’s roaming the world

 (from “Limboa” . a sentimental anthem
       by Brian Chan,  2023)

11/22/2025

“Who will unlock must first himself be locked.
Who will be locked must first himself unlock.”
– Martin Carter, Words (1957)

Told to cross only where the globe is thick
islanders tiptoe, testing . crack ‘n’ sink | hot
night ‘n’ day . is hard to follow ice chip^
melting signs.

If memory serves influencers surface back
up every 100+ years, gathering : Confucius
Garvey Bonaparte | 2nd comings profile
We^them pronouns ? seriously cap lock^
licks of belief.
……………………….

Hoping to live in peace ‘n’ praxis with the world
island wombs choose vaginal home birth,  
gifting the foetus family^first toes; high
chair^fed for life.

Where how when to crash land flow 
calls for ocean tracts only souls risk^
ready or not on foreshore swells rehearse.
…………………….

At the Ogun Whagwan? bypass Ta Ta
Bipti feels the pan yard . stokers eyeing up
set on fire her Mandir mate holdings.
She have she ways but you know!

Stepping outside 4^past midnight Put
some trousers on, man ! you never know
some warner woman clutching a bamboo
crucifix U turns for you Aie aie aie!

W.W.

[ Colonial Mating Rules . Georgetown, Guyana ]

YUH RAP SO (6.0)

Thomasson’s pregnant doubt was aborted by
The shouts of two small boys playing with pebbles
On a patch of dust surrounded by stubble:
– Aye, pink Fada! Yo, schooteacha sah! The priest
Was in no mood for their enthusiastic
Mocking of his passing otherness, so kicked
A dried owara-seed in their direction
(So much for mingling with the ffflock). If only
His nightmarish daydreams were visionary,
He might become that colonist who believes
He’s doing the best for conquist-adored lives.

(from Raponani by Brian Chan, 2023)

11/12/2025

Your Bartleby who should prefer not to climb
any more stairs – having seen and tried and failed
to climb any – all of us more air than stone –
as trees which monkeys climb are more air than earth^
and when those monkeys climb they climb only half-
way up a tree – knowing its highest limbs can’t
bear their weight the way they bear all of Heaven’s^
and to tell of Heaven – it is not concerned
with anything but your presence at its door –
your reaching there is proof of its presence and
of your choices and chances all the one made
and taken for granted by all simians^

(from “Limboa”, a sentimental anthem
by Brian Chan, 2023)

            “For wheresover the carcase is, there
             will the eagles be gathered together.”
               – Matthew 24 . 28

11/02/2025

Progress in core building runs the same slip^
fall tests – for spasms, role strain, period leaks;
fault found, before you stick a label first
scrape off our given names.

Who doesn’t love a wake ? service food
free gossip rum | grave^floral blouse ‘n’ shirts
bring us close to Gone! in tension; let down
bearers sifting memories.

 ………………   

Poulomi born in Europe, Caribbean raised
lived and works in Canada, the States; ‘dress
shifts stitched to frame her resumé ! who swears
prints of origin (foot, mud) hardly matter.

Elbow duty on toilet seat jaw propping
no longer pays; nor bony fingers for peeling
hard boiled eggs . for pleasure^pain
pin pointing.

……………….          

Desirée who tests underwear for a living
likes folding heritage layers . steupsing at people
who kneel on no^carpet floors; who peep
the leaf, saving grace^favours.

World devices chill minds + keep fanning
body heat | our island drivers fear updates,
which explains sunset shivers, nightie
fucking No, not now! suck teeth.

– W.W..

[ Colonial Order of Clouds . Georgetown, Guyana . 1965 ]

YUH RAP SO (5.9)

Sequitur: There were so many leaves still green
On the ground of the clearing in which he found
Himself standing + looking around – not stalled
By anything save why he was there at all –
That tired Thomasson was again made aware
Of the absence of soothing Autumns to cure
The eternal-summer fevers in these parts
– As he still thought of this posting, this outpost
Of the dearthing Commonwealth (its bank-accounts
Under new [IMF/World Bank] management,
New Empire-aegis for Friendly Dictators):

The trees he sensed were unaware that murder
Was the principle seeding their own jungle

(from “Raponani” by Brian Chan, 2023)

10/23/2025

“Don’t worry. His shoulders and arms were
   always big. But his legs fine-fine like yours.”
   – Wilson Harris, The Whole Armour (1962)

Though you might think you getting off
at Stockings, Heritage Ware . contractors clap
clap clicking Can we help you ? gut a wish
made fish or two.

Street vendoritas at fruit stalls warn ~ Please
don’t squeeze up the zaboca ~ a piece of wood
could buss yuh head | dress nice for up stairs
to devotion tiers; copy^heads up first.

………..

As harpy wings flutter on shoulders bared
wives near 40nine worry . bent over still
best at bed pillow plumping; fat flanking
dry dock days of prayer.

While soup still hot . spoon sip soothe
the pelvis lining . No place set to bread
stick this deliciousness | one heart loss Only
one! rests here.

…………

As take holders shuffle deal our Estate
card men front ‘n’ grind | strips cropped
for runway ? who has tools or time to think
pantless wheels in need of hangar.

Her overseer sheets wrung on line hung
to dry . ocean blue blue sighs despite
I goin’ seal Him ! ring on finger wax tight
tight so reparation nights burn bright.

W.W.

[ Colonial Left Turn . Georgetown, Guyana 1977 ]

YUH RAP SO (5.8)

Wandering Zimmer-men can’t afford to stall
At the romance of Struggling-Artist failure:
Carpentering minstrels do not lop their ears
Nor blow their poor brains out in sunflower fields
As yellow as the shite of the world’s blind bird
Peacocking its quills deaf to Death’s drums + drone:
For Judd, aristo-son South American
(He refused an Anglo-Caribbean fate)
Social failure was an opportunist grace
By which – as in all poverty self-valued –
Experiment’s alloy alone proved true gold.

(from “Raponani” by Brian Chan, 2023)

10/13/2025

Noga as a singer is as frightening
as her person is approachably kindly
in her looking-after of hungry people
even us with too much food-money to be
hungry in the gut but who eat anyway –  
if just to prove we can afford to eat more
that our spoilsport cardiologists advise^
too-much proves us as rich as not-enough prods
poor people to seek heart beyond the wilful
muscular organ pumping away under
its cage of ribs policing its tyranny
of automatic memory and its twin
amnesiac habit and their delusion
that their body-serfdom is their final empire

 (from “Limboa”, a sentimental anthem,
   by Brian Chan,  2023)

9/23/2025

 “This boast sprang from a thriftless love
   of romance…genuine optimism…self-advertisement
…self-ignorance.”
        – Wilson Harris, Palace of The Peacock (1960)

Off the mound @takers inn guest departure
matters pile up | at the rostrum mumbling a bit
this island poet reads from her Blanket: Want
Tattoo Bad . Snug^google! help me live^
stream away

All through night^twists her iPhone stays on
quiet . charged companion; no hand device pitch
from heaven to earth emits more horse^
nickering light.
                                   +

Savi loves her notification chime . sharper
than any shop bell ringing . Ah, someone’s here
to bargain for my freedom | glass counter
over pass not working.

Boredom tailor made skirts inch up now^
tugged down; office hems curse the slit^leg
chafe of day | Admin WhatsUp! closet spread.
                                 +

As Magdalena Marie’s pheromones circle^
drain in the cubicle Monsignor wonders
how ? amour Him^Her ? towels shoulder blades
holsters Shalt^Nots in place.

Our island planners piece ‘n’ parcel haute^
faux shorelines | estate coconut heads chop
box^crypt bury; holes for blood thinning 
turtle vapours.

– W.W.
 

YUH RAP SO (5.5)

The first shall be last + the last lost for words
Is my gallows-graveyard comfort for my lack
Of modish talent; or else: It’s just the luck
Of the draw for this straw-life – as though i’d had
No say in the drawing-up of the contract
Between the Lords of Destiny + my soul:
Bemoaning that fate, I might curse What the Hell!
– At which the aforementioned Lords simply smile
(One must fool oneself they’re attending at all)
& send me a few more imps too hellish-hot
To be ignored, demons that must, will be heard.

(from “Raponani”, by Brian Chan, 2023)