THERE'S NO NEED TO DEFINE ME!
I AM AFTER ALL JUST A WEST INDIAN WOMAM...
You Ask,
What makes you, you?
Why do you even think you are special?
You act as if there is a crown set atop your head&
You carry on,
As if the world is yours,
You walk as if you dance...
Your hips swaying,
Each stride... Bouncing as if...
There is music, yet I hear none...
I am trying to figure you out my lass...
Please help me if you must...
Help me define...just who you are...
A smile is planted on your face...
You grin from ear to ear,
Eyes sparkling... as if you haven't a care....
In this world...
Your laugh, so infectious, different... even,
Your voice... so melodious&so rich...so free....
Your words not in the least ominous...
And in the blink of an eye the Queen's English...
Which flows from your lips
In the thickest West Indian accent...
Is transformed...
To the most indistinct and colourful language I have ever heard,
To your local dialect...I presume...
Your aura I am trying to understand...just what it may be...
Please help me, I need to know,
Just who are you, actually?
You sit and are ready to discourse on any issue...
But at the sound of music,
You spring to your feet...
Your waist gyrating, hips pulsating,
My darling, you never seem to miss a beat...
You are versatile,
You are beautiful,
An exotic creature even,
Ok, I have got it...you are a chameleon
A creature from some far off land,
That's what you are...
You have a spirit that is so rich and free,
However, I am dying to know, please tell who might you be?
My curious lad...
If you should know...
My soul is filled with the magic, aura and essence,
That each and every West Indian woman possesses,
I don't know how else to explain it...
But what can I say,
We West Indian women are truly blessed...
We have a strength all of our own,
An incomparable beauty that emanates,
A spirit that is warming and caring,
A love that is unending...
We are authentic,
A rare creation that is what we are...
Because no matter the circumstance,
Despite all of the obstacles,
We somehow manage to persevere,
When we touch the earth,
It grows,
When we fire up a pot,
Your taste buds would fool you into thinking...
That you have died and gone to heaven,
We need not over adorn ourselves with trinkets and things,
Because as you are quite aware my lad,
Just as we are,
We are all encompassing and captivating,
We have bore and nurtured many a heroes and heroines
We have fought many good fights and built nations,
We have held our families together,
Over the years we have uplifted and supported each other,
West Indian women that is what we are...
So when you see me,
Bouncing along, head held high,
Wearing that crown,
I wear it not only for me,
I wear it like a badge of honour,
Given to me by each and every West Indian woman,
Who has graced this earth before me...
And like each and every West Indian woman...
Who carries that torch...
So my lad when you see me...
Don't try to package me,
Or redefine me,
Your answer lies,
In the spirit of my dear Trini brother Sugar Aloes' song...
I am an original...
And to you I say,
A bonafide West Indian woman,
That is what I am,
So please, please don't take me for no other kind of woman,
I am after all...just a simple West Indian Beauty...
So when you see me wearing my crown, frolicking and being happy,
I say to you, because I am a West Indian woman, I love being me...
