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viagraocialis1z   viagraocialis1z Controindicazioni cialis 20 mg | cialis non funziona sempre's TIGblog
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Cialis informazioni
Related to country: Slovenia




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January 26, 2012 | 5:06 AM Comments  0 comments

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lalitets   lalitets Lalit Kumar Mishra's TIGblog
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Explore Wonderful Natural Beauty of Bhutan with Adventures Trekking
Related to country: India


Bhutan is a small landlocked country located in vicinity of majestic Himalayan Mountains. Lots of tourists visit this country every year to be the witness of its wonderful natural beauty. Several unexplored colorful hill peaks, green surroundings and unique Bhutanese culture capture the heart of travelers. The country is also home of some specific species of flora and fauna as well. Rare one horned rhinos and golden languor are found in significant population in the vicinity of the country.

The country boasts with wide range of tourist attractions like beautiful hill peaks, wildlife spots, several historical monuments, Buddhist monasteries and temples and much more. Adventure sports are also very popular in this country and numerous travelers visit Bhutan every year in search of some thrilling adventure. The country also welcomes adventures seekers with several towering hill peaks, rough terrains, rivers and deep valleys. You can enjoy the wide range adventures activities this beautiful landlocked region, trekking is most the favorite among all of them. Exploring supreme natural beauty of Bhutan with exciting trekking activities really has an ultimate charm.

The country is the home of variety of trekking trails. You can enjoy some simple walking routes to snowman trek, regarded as one of the hardest routes in all over the world covers twelve mountain passes of more than 4500 meters height. On expeditions, you will also enjoy the most scenic regions of the country, some important historical monuments and ruins, several important monasteries and temples and spiritual teaching centers that add more charm to your trip. Thimphu and Paro valleys, Hemis Monastery, Punakha, National Museum, Jigme Dorji National Park, Kurje Lhakhang, Kyichu Lhakhang and Takstang Lhakhang are the key attractions of Bhutan Tours that you will easily explore during your treks.

Thimphu Valley, Paro Valley, Snowman and Bumthang trails, Jhomolhari, Gangtey, and Druk Path are the some popular regions for Bhutan Trekking trips to explore. These regions contain some most fabulous trails of the country. So to enjoy the awe inspiring natural beauty with several key attractions, plan a Bhutan trektour. You can also take help form adventure tour operators of the country to make it more enjoying and adventures as well as risk free.


October 21, 2011 | 6:58 AM Comments  0 comments



sewotoy   sewotoy NESTA's TIGblog
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Tribute to the KING

Fete Lacoudre is the annual feast of the Bath Estate Community and it takes place every July. I was pleased to be a part of the youth panel discussion on peer pressure - a lesson for parents on Monday 4th July, 2011.



But this post is about the events that occured prior to the panel discussion. I like to be early when I have to be anywhere especially when it relates to a formal setting and when i'm officially invited. So was the case for the panel discussion but i stumbled upon some unexpected activity. I met six (6) lovely young beauties bellowing out some old classics of the late, great Michael Jackson, yes the KING OF POP himself. He would have been proud of the effort and commitment of the young ladies but i'm not sure if he would have been have liked the "chopped and screwed' versions of his timeless tunes, albeit unexpected.



I happened to capture three (3) songs: Man in the Mirror, You Are Not Alone and Thriller. Off course, the videos are blackberry quality so sound and lighting are not the best but I do hope it captures the essence of the performances:











By the way, the pageant is this Friday... wish the young ladies luck, I just hope none of them sing for the talent segment, just kidding around...


July 6, 2011 | 2:07 AM Comments  0 comments

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sewotoy   sewotoy NESTA's TIGblog
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Boeri, I'm back

I seldom do the same hike twice, well except for the Boiling Lake which i have done seven (7) times and counting.

At the invitation of my friends, I ventured back to the Boeri Lake on Saturday July 02nd, 2011. I brought my niece along too, she loves hiking, snorkeling and wants to be a marine biologist.




I still enjoyed the hike, albeit I was drenched in rain from the minute I left the bus. Did I mention that we were in the rainforest of Dominica, that records almost 300 inches of rain on an annually. The Boeri lake, Dominica's highest lake at over 2800ft, is situated near the Morne Micotrin (Morne Macaque) and is a part of the Morne Trois Pitons National Park, a World Heritage Site.


We were literally in the clouds and saw little in terms of view with the white mass all around us. The hike was very short, we did it in 30 minutes although all documentation indicates a hike of 45 minutes to an hour. It was easy except for the slippery stones, too many of them too, I think every one fell or missed falls.

Note to Forestry Division: the sign at the Boeri Lake needs to be changed...


Approaching the lake seems like a scene out of a scary movie. One of the hikers even mentioned that the lake looks like the one in the Jason's Friday the 13th movies... I had second thoughts about going in there but not the other hikers with a friend even thinking about swimming crossing the lake. He was alone in this adventure. I did soak my foot though... and I did take a dip in the Fresh Water Lake for 5 minutes, that water was just too damn cold.

All in all I can say that I did enjoy the hike but I won't go back for a third time, I pinky promise ;).

















July 4, 2011 | 11:07 AM Comments  0 comments

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sewotoy   sewotoy NESTA's TIGblog
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Poetry Offering: Colours

The Dominica Writers Guild is currently organizing a call for poems under the theme Colours in preparation for the Nature Island Literary Festival.


Below is the poem that I have submitted, wish me luck... It is also in my upcoming book One Room Shack which should be out just before the Festival.





My Dominica


by Delroy Nesta Williams






Shades of green and everything in between


Encircled by seas of translucent blue,


Displaying wonders above and below


A beauty for all to behold,


Peaks that touch the sky


Stars that bless the night,


While the clear rivers quench the thirst


Of the land that grows it all.






Flowers of red, yellow, orange and blue


Birds of all sizes and colours sweetly sing,


The wind greets the hills and valleys


As the swaying palms speak to the flamboyant


Giving shade to the people below,


As they busily go about their day,


Each and everything mixed in.







For in Dominica they are well pleased


For here, Nature carefully prepares the way,


A path though full of bumps and bruises,


Potholes and ditches,


An experience second to none.


This is where all this is found,


Undisturbed it stands


Dominica,


shining jewel among other islands.






July 1, 2011 | 9:07 AM Comments  0 comments

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sewotoy   sewotoy NESTA's TIGblog
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Chinese Invasion???

Ever since the Government of Dominica pledged allegiance to the One China Policy in 2004 there have been public fears/concerns about the increase in the Chinese population in Dominica. More recently, certain business owners and radio personalities have led the charge about perceived ‘preferential treatment’ from the Government with regards to Chinese business and has called the moved an unfair attempt at undermining local businesses.




But it isn’t all that bad, truth be told. The Chinese have built the Windsor Park Sports Stadium, Dominica Grammar School and other such projects at little or no cost to Dominica or Dominicans, assisting the country with capital projects during a time when international assistance from friendly governments have dwindled and the international markets are failing.


The Ministry of Agriculture, where I work, also has a good working relationship with the Chinese delegation. We have been collaborating on various projects at the Hillsborough Agricultural Research Centre and also at the farmer/field level.

The relationship was further cemented this weekend (Saturday June 26, 2011) after a friendly basketball match at Lindo Park between the Extension service of the Ministry of Agriculture and the Chinese Embassy.

It was a strange game, the Chinese, who were widely regarded as the away team had a larger and louder crowd support, lol. They also had a larger team, playing more than twenty (20) players against the eight (8) that the agricultural service fielded.


The score was never close but it didn’t need to be. The Agricultural team outscored the Chinese delegation from the first minute so much so that the scoreboard was erased with about one (1) minute still left in the game. It wasn’t done in any way to cheat the game but more in gest as it was clear that the Chinese team could never have won and by that time they were mainly playing for fun. The last score I remember seeing was 59 – 26, in favour of the agriculturists.


There’s already discussion about a follow-up game but with serious negotiations as to the number of players allowed to be play in the game. Eight (8) might beat twenty (20) but there’s no way seventy thousand (70,000) can defeat one billion (1,000,000,000).


See a video clip of the game:



June 27, 2011 | 9:06 AM Comments  0 comments

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sewotoy   sewotoy NESTA's TIGblog
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In the news!!!

I've been busy over the passed two weeks and haven't been posting much on my blog. I've been on the campaign trail as I seek a second term as the President of the National Youth Council of Dominica. I also partnered with my uncle to host a Father's Day activity for the Blue Blue community, Bath Estate. The media houses have basically been my home.

Here are the links to the stories:

Re-election

Father's Day

June 21, 2011 | 4:06 AM Comments  0 comments

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sewotoy   sewotoy NESTA's TIGblog
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Sibling rivalry

Move over Williams sisters there's a greater, more enthralling rivalry. Well at least to those who were present at the 2nd annual Hula Hoop Championships held at the Windsor Park Sports Stadium in Roseau. This was a major part of a fundraising drive by the Dominica Cancer Society under the theme Hoop for Hope on June 12, 2011.




For 5 hours and 34 minutes two sisters, Shantelle and Kiera Ettiene of the Massacre Primary School, hula hooped their way into Dominican history books. Special mention must also be made of Tiana Rolle of the Goodwill Primary School who also beat last year's record but had to stop at 4 hours and 18 minutes due to fatigue. She cried at the end because she just couldn't keep up to the sisters. I'm sure that sounds familiar to tennis fans who have seen the professional athletes cry after being defeated by Serena and Venus Williams.




I had a first hand view of the courage, determination and effort put on by these young girls as chief judge of the endurance challenge. At one time i also performed various other tasks (waterboy, supporter and security) as the crowd continued to cheer on these young ladies.




They could have gone on for much longer as neither wanted the other to win. They tried to trick each other into submission on various occassions each pretending to be tired and on the verge of giving up in an effort to fool the other. It didn't work. On more than one occassion the mother of the young girls asked them to stop and allow the other to win, that didn't work either. On one occasion, the younger sibling cried for a short moment but the older sister wouldn't let up and they were back at it again for another 30 or so minutes. She wouldn't be tricked into letting her young sister win, after all she was the defending champion and record setter at last years championship (4 hours and 5 minutes)




At the end of it all, the crowd encouraged and pursuaded the mother to put an end to the rivalry, citing fatigue, physical damage as major concerns. Both young ladies said that they could have gone on. They also attested that they would be back next year to outduel the other. We shall see.






More on the story, visit Dominica News Online

June 14, 2011 | 9:06 AM Comments  0 comments

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sewotoy   sewotoy NESTA's TIGblog
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I wasn't born to conform!



Every now and then I feature work from other poets on my site, whether they are established, up and coming or new acts. The only difference with this piece is that the young lady doesn't consider herself a poet, although she has written and performed a number of well-crafted works. She has performed at various events including the Nature Island Literary Festival and is noted for her wonderful event planning and management of the Word, Sound and Power night at the Anchorage Hotel and even Roti and Poetry night at her own home.


This piece speaks to me and articulates certain of my qualities and beliefs as well. I do hope that you enjoy reading it:


I wasn't born to conform to society's norm.
by Shawna Johnson


My thinking may be a little off track,
to the majority of idle people,
my behavior may seem wack,
But I'm real,
that's the entire ordeal,
I'm a truthful fulfilling meal.

I don't gossip and join the negative crew,
If I inform u of news,
its to bring justice for u to pursue.

I don't walk around with my nose in the air,
But if u cross me and attempt to destroy my good name,
BEWARE!

I say hello to everyone I meet,
even paros on the street, I greet.

I'm a good friend to the end,
And if u can't fathom that notion,
Too bad for u, ur drinking a deadly potion.

There are not too many true people in this world,
walking this earth,
But I carry on,
looking for purity like a innocent birth.

I walk by grace and faith, not by sight,
Man is destruction,
I put on my armor like a knight.

I do work for charity,
never thinking of myself,
I aid others,
not packing away money on a shelf.
I desire to empower the next generation,
Go out of my way, without hesitation.

Don't be threatened by my knowledge and good ways,
Straighten up and leave the crooked maze,

I wasn't born to conform to society's norm.




P.S. Shawna enjoy your vacation and hurry back to the Nature Isle of the World... We already miss you

June 9, 2011 | 12:06 PM Comments  0 comments

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sewotoy   sewotoy NESTA's TIGblog
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Roseau needs sporting facilities

Every now and then as President of the National Youth Council of Dominica I am called upon to give my views about various national and youth issues. I did an interview last night about the lack of sporting facilities and opportunities for urban youth. Here is the outcome of this interview on one of the more recent internet news fora for the Caribbean region.

See the story here

Enjoy and feel free to leave a comment

June 7, 2011 | 3:06 AM Comments  0 comments

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sewotoy   sewotoy NESTA's TIGblog
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This Carib Girl

I wrote this poem over the weekend. It is about a Carib (Kalinago) girl, the object of my affection/dejection. You will get the point...




This Carib Girl




I marveled at this young lady,


Sun-kissed skin, jet black hair


I had this yearning feeling,


Wanted her to be only mine!


I needed to make my approach,


Make the best of first impressions,


Because she had just the prettiest smile


That you ever did see…


Yes, that you ever did see.




But I was afraid


To bring to her attention,


This longing admiration,


So I adored from far off.


Oh yes, I’m in love


In love with this Carib girl…




Feelings still bottled up,


Enclosed in the back of my mind.


Failure to bring it forth,


Detrimental to my own mental health.


I’m ambushed by my own excitement,


Self-restriction causing me affliction,


Trapped by my very own feelings.


Such anguish in my very own soul…


Yes, in my very own soul.





Because I was afraid


To bring to her attention,


This longing admiration,


So I adored from far off.


Oh yes, I’m in love


In love with this Carib girl…




Time passed and feelings changed,


So admiration turned to resentment,


As fear overwhelmed me.


The kind words that encircled my thoughts,


Became overran by scorn.


So overthrown by dejection


The rose grow out its thorn


Suppressed emotions became released anger


Yes, became released anger.




Cause I was afraid


To bring to her attention,


This longing admiration,


So I adored from far off.


Oh yes, I was in love


In love with this Carib girl…


June 6, 2011 | 2:06 AM Comments  0 comments

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sewotoy   sewotoy NESTA's TIGblog
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Hair on my chest...

For your input...



Chapter 4 from my upcoming book “David and I”



“Stop it, leave the person’s child alone,” Mr. Lazare shouted with all the strength he could muster up from his feeble, rum-drained body. I could smell the alcohol from across the street.



“Old man, check you seen eh,” one of the boys screamed out at him.



“Ten to one is murder but twelve to one and a half; with me being the half and an old man perched up by a cane the one, was equal to genocide,” I thought.



I started to prepare myself for the pain of kicks and punches to my face and body. The odds were clearly not in my favour as Mr. Lazare crept across the dirt road. Even the small gravel in the middle of the street seemed to knock him off his path.



“What chance we have ner?” I thought. “We need a miracle wii.”



“Leave the boy before I take my cane out and beat each and every one of you,” he shrieked.



I was sure he would topple over as he said that. How he managed to get across the street is still a blur to me. All I can remember is Dwight, the leader of the bunch, running away holding his head, and the bunch of lemmings chasing after him. He had collected a solid stroke of the cane, right in the centre of his back, the finishing touches from what was left over from Teacher Roach.



“Boy, how did you find yourself in another mess?” questioned Mr. Lazare, his slight English accent even more evident than before. I could now clearly see his eyes; hazel coloured beads encircled by white, yellow and a deep red. The red, bloody stare seemed to suggest that he had been thru so much, surely had a lot to say, a lot more to his life than the rum-drenched days that I had come to know him for.



“Answer me boy, before I report this to your mother,” he continued to yell.



“I report him to Teacher Roach for cheating on de exam,” I sheepishly replied.



“You did the right thing boy, but nobody likes a tattle tale. It’s a good thing I came along when I did because you would have ended up with a few broken bones.”



“Thank you, Sir.”



“Thank you, Sir?” he mocked at me, “boy get my bags, you have to earn my security services.”



“Where he get all dem groceries?” I thought. I had never seen him with anything else but bottles of rum. Those bags strained me for the thirty or so minutes that I carried them. Mr. Lazare walked as slow as a snail and he insisted that I walk at his pace.



“You don’t rush an old veteran” he would yell out if I happen to get five paces ahead of him.



Finally, we had gotten in front of his gate. I placed the bags down and started to jet across the street to my home



“And where do you think you are running off to, young man?



“I going home; my moda waiting on me.”



“Nonsense, your job isn’t done until my bags are inside on the kitchen counter. As a matter of fact, you need to place them in the cupboard as well.”



Suddenly I had wished for the broken bones from earlier. An instant feeling as I realized that I now had to venture inside the rat infested sty that I had imagined Mr. Lazare’s house to be.



“Why me ner?” I thought as I tiptoed my way through the gates and stopped at the front door.



“Just push the door, it isn’t locked.”



“Me?” I questioned.



“Who else could I be speaking to? We are the only ones here.”



“Dat I afraid of wii,” I whispered under my breath.



The door creaked open and I got blinded by the light, well actually by the shimmering items all over the cabinet, table, and chairs. There was no place to move, it was like manoeuvring through the crowd at Carnival. I surely didn’t want to break anything, I didn’t want the wrath of Mr. Lazare to come down on me. I barely had a chance to survey the entire living room, with so much to look at, before I heard him behind me.



“Young man, the kitchen is that way,” he said pointing the way.



“Yes,” I replied.



Yes? Yes? Is that how your mother taught you to speak with an elder statesman like myself?” he scolded.



“Yes, Sir,” I quickly replied not wanting to anger him any further. “What is a elder statesman?



“You will find out one day, when I am ready to tell you,” he assured me.



His drunken assertiveness surprised me; I almost thought that he was pretending to be under the influence, maybe just to observe me closely. I finally made my way to the kitchen, squeezed in his groceries in what were already filled cupboards. You would have never imagined the fancy foods that I found in there, things that I had never eaten or even seen or couldn’t remember ever eating or seeing graced the shelves of his cupboards.



“My friends doh never going to believe me when I tell dem, never.” I thought as I finished up.



Almost on cue, like he had a surveillance camera hovering over me, Mr. Lazare called out to me.



“Young man, make haste… and please bring me the green bottle,”



“Yes sir,” I replied, as though practising my newly found love for courtesy.



Upon arriving into the living room, he motioned to me to get a glass in the cabinet.



“Not one, two, surely you would like a little refreshment after working so hard,” he laughed out.



I don’t know what was funny to him; that he got me to spend the past two hours with him or that I seemed to be exhausted and had no idea what was going to happen next. I still wonder if he had seen my frightened expression and only wanted to calm my fears.



“Sit down, it’s time that big men relax and have a drink after a long hard day at work” he chuckled.



I sat there as he wiped the glasses with this barely white cloth and filled the glasses. His glass was filled to the brim; mine just had enough to call it a sip.



“When you get to my age then you can fill your own glass,” he said laughingly as though he read my every thought.



“I wonder what your age be? Because you look like ninety five,” I thought.



He pushed the glass towards me as he breathed in the aroma from his own glass; a smile coming over his face showing how pleased he was.



“It’s been a while since I shared a bottle with anybody,” he said. “You’re not having your drink”



“I doh think my mother want me to drink rum”



“Nonsense, your mother would appreciate you stepping into manhood. The transition from boy to man is a delicate one, and it can only be helped with the right guidance. She would be thankful if she knew I was helping you along the right path,” he uttered as his English accent made a brief return.



“You sure?” I asked.



“Yes son, that’s the only thing I’m sure about, that and my age, I think” he laughed.



It did smell invitingly good; I could smell one of the herbs my mother used in her food.



“Dat must be good, Mr. Lazare doh have reason to lie,” I thought as I gulped down the mouthful that was in my glass.



“Ughh” I coughed up.



Slowly young man, slowly; leave the throw back for the grown men” he laughed.



“It burning my chest wii,” I squealed.



“It is suppose to burn the thirst time”



“Why you doh say dat before?”



“I can’t tell you everything about life, some things you have to experience and find out for yourself.”



I was sure he did that to me on purpose.



“Would you like some more, this time sip it slowly”



“No thanks ner, I going home now”



“Sit down and have a second, then you can go home, he shouted, grow some hair on my chest”



“Hair on my chest,” I said as I looked in my shirt.



“Yes, hair on your chest,” he confirmed as he poured me a second glass, this time a little more than the first.



“What I doing ner?” I wondered as I slowly sipped the second glass. It didn’t burn, just like he said; in fact, I liked it and I wanted more. I pushed my glass towards him.



“Can I have more? I need some more hair on my chest wii!” I laughed.



“Are you sure, young man?” he asked.



“YES SIR!” I confirmed with a firm slam to the table, which set the bottle and glasses jumping in the air.



“Careful now, young man, we don’t want to spill our drinks,” he laughed loudly.



“Our drinks,” I thought, “yes wii, our drinks.”



A lot of time had passed, in fact night was upon us now and I had to be getting home but I could barely move. My head was spinning, the ceiling seemed to be caving in on us, the tables and chairs seemed to be moving, I couldn’t stand up.



“I need to go home wii, Sir!” I said



“After you drank my entire bottle of rum, you just want to run off without as much as a thank you,” Mr. Lazare lashed back at me.



“Thank you, thank you sir,” I said embarrassed even in my drunken state.



“Get out, Get out,” he shouted. “Make sure the next time you bring your own damn bottle,” he shrieked.



I tripped and fell almost three times from his doorstep before I stumbled into my back door. My mother was in the kitchen.



“Delroy, where you come out at dis hour?” she said sternly.



“Mammie, I was by Mr.,” as I fell down.



“Mr. Who? Who dat Delroy, who? And wat is dat smell?”



“Lazare,” I said embarrassingly.



“You was drinking? You smell like a damn rum shop!”



“Yeeesssss, Mammie, jus a sip,” I murmured from my spot on the floor.



“A sip, jus a sip!!!” she shouted out.



By now all my brothers and sisters were standing in the kitchen door mumbling to each other, shocked at my drunken state.



“Joe, help your brother, put him on de bed, lemmie go and deal with Mr. Lazare, I go deal with Delroy when I come back,” she yelled as she stormed out of the kitchen door.



That was the last I remembered of that day. I wasn’t even sure if Joe had actually carried me to the bedroom. I woke up the next morning to find my face sunken in a pool of green, smelly vomit.



“Mammie my head hurting me wii, put off de lights,” I bawled, “my eyes hurting me.”



“Serve you right, get up from de damn bed,” my mother screamed at me.



“What I do ner? I questioned myself.



“You’re just lucky you fall asleep before I come back eh, you just lucky, Getting drunk with Mr. Lazare, you doh have good head boy? You better clean up de bed eh and wash de sheet before I knock you down this morning,’ my mother said still screaming out at me.



It all came back to me as soon as she finished. I remembered it all. I looked at my chest but there was no hair, not a strand.



“He lie to me wii, Mr. Lazare lie,” I thought.



May 24, 2011 | 4:05 AM Comments  0 comments

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Father, Teach Me To Pray

This is my newest poem; still in edit mode, might still might change it around some time soon.





Father, Teach Me To Pray



By Delroy Nesta Williams





I want to revisit my youth,


Go back in time.


Just to talk to my father,


There is this question that I need him to answer.


Daddy, why you never taught me to pray?





As I reflect,


I’ve heard you curse,


I even saw you smoke,


But I can’t remember a word of prayer


That you spoke!





But Father I ask that you hold my hands,


Force my knees to the floor,


And to the heavens, stretch out my arms.


Recite to me the Lord’s Prayer


Or just scream out Proverbs and Psalms.





All I have to go by right now


Are the teachings of my mother,


Her words were comfort to my ear


And the lessons still linger.





But I would still like to know


The thoughts of my father.



May 12, 2011 | 1:05 AM Comments  0 comments

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RIP Bob Nesta Marley

30 years ago today; we lost an icon, leader, teacher, rastafarian and most of all someone that we could relate to.
Today, I join the rest of the world in remembering his contribution to music, peace and humanity in general. Through his countless songs and messages, Nesta as I prefer to call him (my middle name is also Nesta) left us with timeless classics and a song for every situation.
Not much more can be said that hasn’t already been highlighted by about Bob Nesta Marley but I would like to thank him for being an inspiration to myself and the rest of the globe.
Thank you.






Below are the lyrics to my favourite Bob track:

Redemption Song lyrics

Old pirates, yes, they rob I
Sold I to the merchant ships
Minutes after they took I
From the bottomless pit
But my hand was made strong
By the hand of the almighty
We forward in this generation
Triumphantly
Won't you help to sing
These songs of freedom?
'Cause all I ever have
Redemption songs
Redemption songs
Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery
None but ourselves can free our minds
Have no fear for atomic energy
'Cause none of them can stop the time
How long shall they kill our prophets
While we stand aside and look? Ooh
Some say it's just a part of it
We've got to fullfil the book
Won't you help to sing
These songs of freedom?
'Cause all I ever have
Redemption songs
Redemption songs
Redemption songs
Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery
None but ourselves can free our mind
Woh, have no fear for atomic energy
'Cause none of them-a can-a stop-a the time
How long shall they kill our prophets
While we stand aside and look?
Yes, some say it's just a part of it
We've got to fullfill the book
Won't you help to sing
These songs of freedom?
'Cause all I ever had
Redemption songs
All I ever had
Redemption songs
These songs of freedom
Songs of freedom







See the video on Youtube


May 11, 2011 | 9:05 AM Comments  0 comments

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Excerpt from novel: David and I


I'm working on a novel and this is an excerpt from it. It's about 40% complete so I just thought I would share the introductory prologue for some feedback:


David and I


Prologue

That’s all we really knew about him, Mr. Lazare, that he was the village “drunk.” And the villagers of Gros Michel weren’t kind to him; not at all.

Castigated and shunned, he spent his last years behind that broken down, corroded, galvanized fence that did a very bad job of hiding the mess that was his house. A wooden dilapidated structure, deposited there over two generations before my time. It’s amazing that the house was still standing; it looked more like a breeding ground for cockroaches and rats than a dwelling home.


But he wasn’t the sad type, very far from that; at times he reminded me of Donald Duck; when he was arguing with Mickey Mouse. Mr. Lazare’s voice could be heard at around 6:00 a.m. every morning, singing or rather croaking, over his transistor radio. He was my personal human alarm clock on many mornings; the old grandfather clock that always sticks out among the new furniture pieces but still felt at place in the dusty corners of many living rooms. Just like his house stuck out from among the rest on our street.


You could tell that Mr. Lazare loved calypso music, as he belted out the tunes of the Mighty Sparrow and Lord Kitchener. It may have sounded very bad to the passerby, but he knew all the songs; word for word and note for note too.


I didn’t see him much, except when he left his yard for his weekly trip to Ma Boyd’s shop or when he was coming from his fishing boat. He was always going out to sea but I never once saw him returning home with any fish. He would just be whistling on his way home. Once I even met him inside the shop but all he had bought was some batteries and alcohol. To me it was a very strange combination, but maybe all too normal for such a bizarre character.


My mother, in some way seemed fond of him, always smiling when she heard him sing; I had heard her mention many of his exploits, how he had been to England and made millions of dollars only to return to Dominica and throw it all away on a local woman. It was the kind of stories that you only read in books or see in movies.


May 9, 2011 | 3:05 AM Comments  0 comments

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