Guest Contribution: Delroy "Nesta" Williams

For this post I have invited poet, activist and former president of The Dominican National Youth Council, Delroy “Nesta” Williams to share two of his poems with Fathermen.

Delroy’s work is infused with feeling, it offers his reader a young Dominican man’s perspective on ‘various issues including poverty, failure, [and] personal struggle’ (Dominica News Online 9/9/12). Although often dealing with difficult themes, his poems posses redemptive qualities.  They provide not only ‘faith and hope… but the greatest of these is love’ (Dominica News Online 9/9/2011).

Delroy is also the author of One Room Shack (Free Expressions Poetry Company, 2011), a meditative collection of poems that candidly express a Dominican youth’s search for meaning, self, love, recognition and belonging from the confined solace of his humble single roomed house.

Here, his contributions reflect on the place of the father in the lives of Dominican youth. The significance of a father’s presence/absence in the life of a young man...... a father’s shortcomings as a figure of manhood for his progeny..... and a man’s role as moral guardian and spiritual inspiration for his children.... are all explored.

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,

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.

Father Failed Me

by Delroy "Nesta" Williams

They should have noticed
the silence before the storm
and now the silence has returned
no answers to the questioned posed
where to start? where to look?
to the "wine"; to the rope
Killing all hope
dream-dazed, dreams choked
reality all up in a blaze
no water to quench the fire's thirst
for father has failed
and now son is worst

Prison record passed
from father to son
not hard work, commitment or patience
lifelines of generations past
but rash, harsh words
scarring the soul
As the world turns

Sons slipping beyond rescue
everyday the situation compounded
society dumbfounded
no answers to the questioned posed
where to start? where to look?
to the "wine"; to the rope
as his last, best hope

too late, too late
society has sealed his fate
and now mother cries
because mother tried
while father hides

For more more of Nesta's work visit his blog: And Then There Was Jetzzz