Breaking news about the Jamaican born musician and artist Dereck Rose who died at the ripe old age of 100 last year. It is said that Mr Rose sent a text message from his iphone which was buried with him containing thrilling accounts from behond the grave. The message was sent to a close family member who wishes to remain anonymous. He said that as he was laid out in his coffin at his funeral, he was able to see all the mourners, and there was a great multitude of people present. He also described the lovely suit that he was wearing, and that he could see everyone, and though he was dead to them, his eyes were wide open and he felt very much alive. As he looked around at all the mourners; he thought to himself; “I didn't know so many people cared about me, he also noticed a certain beautiful woman weeping uncontrollably and no one was able to comfort her, he thought to himself; “ I didn't know that she fancied me that much. Dereck said; it wasnt that he was laying dead in a coffin that made him feel left out and sad, but it was the fact that as they all passed by to pay their last respect, that the weeping woman was going to come crying over me and making my suit wet with all her many tears. He ended his text with these words; In my world I can see you looking at me, but you can't see me looking at you, I can hear you, but you can't hear me. There is a gulf between us that neither of us can cross over save only in death. The anonymous recepient tried desperately to reply to dereck's message but could on no account get through to him, it was said that the connection line and number of the iphone became suddenly absolete and has remained a mystery ever since.

Promotions not from north , south, east or west

it comes from above the Lord knows best.

Gods got all the plans in his mighty hands

and what if he wants it to work through a black man.

No one thought they'd ever see an afro-american elected to be

a man of colour on capital hill, the first black president, oh what a thrill.

Ancestral spirit of freedom fighters raging since captivity

way down the ages to this time, no real sense of liberty,

but now on this dawn of the first black president

american and commander-in chief,

a gentle breeze fills up the air which feels like sweet relief.

The injured slave expires, exhaled and breathed no more

when he saw the future brightened upon a distant shore.

Pioneers prophets and progenitors, have prophesied from afar

tired and worn from the struggle, they predicted a rising star.

Abraham Lincoln proclaimed on the first of January 1863

that all slaves should be freed within the confederacy,

“Those who deny freedom to others “ he said;

deserves it not for themselves,

so emancipation was issued, slavery dusted from the shelves.

A racist actor named John wilkes Booth, disagreed with what he said

and one good friday in a theatre, he shot Lincoln in the back of his head.

Martin saw the prophecy in a dream and practiced what he preached

he too was laid out on the ground, murdered for righteous speech.

Paul Bogle, Marcus Garvey and Bob Marley, these heroes are gone before

but their inspiration helped us to push open this iron door.

The roll call of freedom fighters is a never ending page

just looking back in my history makes me feel enraged.

During the presidential elections I heard some people say;

“We don't want a black president, so we're voting for McCain today,

“What can Obama do for our country? they say

and will he choose the right team?

And how can a man of colour understand the American dream?.

Black people have been stamped on, pushed out, enslaved and spat upon

the welcome doormat colonialist walked upon.

From piosonous serpents we've been bitten, by fangs filled with racist remarks

she sat down in the bus that day, the brave woman Rosa Parks.

The whole world feels a ripple when America suffers a quake

and this tidal wave election caused cynical minds to break.

And so the earth will change for good, for better or for worst

the American people have spoken, a new era, chapter and verse.

Nothing is easy, but only time will tell

pray for the new black president that he'll serve the people well.

Many snares will try to hinder and some folks won't understand

but Almighty God who put him there, will shield him with his hands.

God bless the fallen freedom fighters, God bless Barak Obama

and God bless the united states of America.

Her days are numbered

as she lays groaning in tormented sleep

covered and almost shrunkened

into her worn out creased up blankets

that covers her frail and fast ageing body,

But when she awakes

she blesses the Lord upon her bed

The house which once was the  pride

of this hard working zealous person

has now been reduced to a single room

where she awaits deaths final call,

nothing else matters

for soon she will meet her maker,

but when she awakes

she worships the Lord upon her bed.

She used to sit proudly around her dinner table

in her communal dining room

but now she lays prostrate upon her death bed

surrounded by trollies full of life enhancing medicines and pills

to ease the pain and give her comfort.

At the head of the bed lies a thin

but still breathing hoary head

and when she awakes

she blesses the Lord upon her bed.

When I was a child I used to wet my bed, and quite often when I did, I always dreamed that I was pissing against the root of a tree, and it seemed so real until i'd wake up to find that I had already wet the bed. So now when I have a piss in the nature, and I hold onto a tree, I always assure myself with these words; “this is reality, as I feel the cool breeze blowing on my face, the birds whistling above me, and the sun shining brightly. One day as I was pissing against a tree reciting the words that “ this is reality and that this could never be a dream, I looked down realizing that I was pissing all over my jumper, which had fallen from around my waist, and then I said; “Oh shit!

living at the time of Jesus, John the baptist, James the just, and Herod.

Now there was about this time, Jesus a wise man, if it be lawful to call him a man, for he was a doer of wonderful works, a teacher of such men who had a veneration for the truth. He drew over to him many of the jews and gentiles; he was the Christ. And when Pilate, at the suggestion of the principal men among us, had condemned him to the cross, those that loved him at first did not forsake him; for he appeared unto them alive again on the third day, as the divine prophets had spoken of these and ten thousand other wonderful things concerning him; whence the tribe of Christians, so named from him, are not extinct at this day.