SM Babylon

Dengue in P.A.
by Ransta
12-3-08
Port Antonio, JA

Awaking in an old hotel.
Last night was pure hell.
Tossed and turned and wailed
Muscles ached and were my cell.

Mental ruminations behind
Physical discomfort defined.

A mood of frustration
Dominates the situation.

Here at a seaside port.
I arrived as a hopeful sort.

Winding roads.
Tropical hope.

Lanes that are twister and dippers.
Rain turns potholes into craters.

My heart is in freefall, like the stock market.
One day up and the next two down.

Our journey is strange but our connection is deep.
My mind is weary, often teary.

Is love the energy?
Or has it turned to entrophy?

Blank is my slate.
Unhumor is my fate.
Not sure I want a date.
My focus is on our state.

If our love dies, my heart cries.

I'll retreat to the comfort zone of being alone.
And yet another love is ...
BLOWN, BLOWN, BLOWN.

Labels: dengue fever, jamaica, poetry