The Writing Room

Is it something special about your features – the shape of your face, the slant of your eyes, the size of your lips and ears, the texture of your hair, the colour of your skin, your race? Is it your build – being petite rather than being plus sized or vice versa; being tall rather than being short or vice versa; having long legs rather than short ones? Is it the way you dress? Is it your personality? Is it affirmation from others? Is it your resemblance to somebody who is famous? Is it “looking good”? We may answer affirmatively or negatively to any or a number of the above questions. We learn our concept of what is beautiful from our experiences throughout our lives. Today, in Jamaica, possibly elsewhere, some men and women are bleaching their bodies because they want to be “beautiful, to have a “brighter” complexion; to become “prettier” and so on and so on. See, The skin Bleaching Phenomenon which was aired on Television Jamaica on the 19th of June 2013. Errol Miller...

Tell all the truth but tell it slant - by Emily Dickinson (1830-1856) Tell all the truth but tell it slant - Success in Circuit lies Too bright for our infirm Delight The Truth's superb surprise As Lightning to the Children eased With explanation kind The Truth must dazzle gradually Or every man be blind - Is Dickinson talking about poetry or the nature of 'truth' as is or both or something else? What does this poem mean to you? Leave a comment below.

Paula Johnson waits impatiently for the elevator to take her to the 8th floor of her one bedroom apartment. She shakes her head in disbelief, as the usual ten minutes wait for the elevator turns to fifteen minutes.  She enters the dingy apartment.  The pale sheer curtains hang unevenly at the window, revealing the areas where the paint is stripping off the wall. The two- piece sofa hugs the corner of the living room. The discoloured cushions sink in the middle. The top of the sofa is of a darker shade than the rest as grease and dirty palms leave permanent impressions. The television blares. The girls are oblivious to the fact that Sponge Bob has lost his job at the Krusty Krab; they tug at a doll to gain possession. Paula pulls two nutri-bars from her handbag and shouts at them to stop.  They hastily grab the bars from their mother’s grasp. "Say thank you!" she snaps. She slumps into the chair as weariness, annoyance and despair battle each other. Her ...

View from Shooters' Hill, Jamaica Time by JBF Time steals along Constantly on the move All the time, time changes From dawn until dusk time changes From night until day time changes All the time, time changes Time changes girls into   women   It changes boys to men It changes women and men All the time, time changes Women and men chase time Women and men retreat from time Because all the time, time changes  It changes childhood to old age It changes old age to mere dust All the time, time changes Time grants wishes Time takes away wishes Time grooms Time dooms All the time, time changes From age to age From the cradle into the grave All the time, time changes Philosophies are created in time In time philosophies will change Time changes everything Time is changing All the time, time ch...

Life by JBF ‘I’m taking life easy,’ I said ‘What is life?’ he asked A question that nagged at my brain Causing it to hurt from the strain. Life is living. Life is joy. Life is pain. Life is gain. Life is mistakes. Life is discovery. Life is high stakes. Life is recovery. Life is dread But at least we’re not dead. Life gives us a chance To move ahead. Life is a rollercoaster It tosses us up and down And spins us around and around Before it takes us down. Down to the ground Where our ancestors roam Down to the ground Where we cease to moan. Life is. Before you go, spend a few minutes to browse the blog, subscribe to get the latest posts as soon as they are published and do read some of my  poems . A bout the Author J anette B. Fuller  is a ghost writer and author of four  books.  When you are ready t...