Poetry from Ike Boat

Young Black man in a dark jacket reading on stage at night under a bright light.
Poetrician Ike Boat

The Cocoa Tree

The cocoa tree,

Beautifully, planted in the fertile soils of Africa

Where the process of photosynthesis makes it free

In order to germinate in the farmlands of Auntie Rebecca

As she often addresses the folks about the need to become cocoa farmer.

The cocoa tree,

Nicely, go through the watering routine to grow every stage

Thus, it becomes attractive for the eyes to see

Just like how a man develop at individual age

So as to nourish even in the season of summer.

The cocoa tree,

Unfortunately, can’t mature at the sea-breeze atmosphere

As I was told long ago by one teacher Lee

Who once upon a time taught is there and here

And introduced us to the usage of a hammer.

The cocoa tree,

Produces the tasty little seeds like fruit

Which sometimes become the friends of a flying bee

Thus, when it’s cracked open and sweet to suit

Under the Sun when it changes colour so fine.

The cocoa tree,

Develops the pods from greenish to yellowish

Amidst climatic conditions enjoyed without any fee

Which makes it huge and flourish

It’s sometimes support the other tree with a vine.

The cocoa tree,

Helps the certainty to ensure production of the divine chocolate

As I was informed by the Brit friend known as Gee

How lovely to lick and such during a family dinner date

In fact, it’s like the beauty of all things combine.

Rhythms Of Waterfalls

Rhythms of waterfall,

As the liquid she’s carrying drops and splutter.

It’s within the yard and not the hall

So, this piece of writing hit the mind to utter.

Rhythms of waterfall,

As some sight it in Boti, somewhere in the nation.

Where the mountains are so tall

Thus, it beautifies what lies in nature’s creation.

Rhythms of waterfall,

As it turns to meander and flows.

Like a stream which doesn’t touch the wall

Not even the air or wind which blows.

Rhythms of waterfall,

As outstanding as aircraft landing.

With passengers on-board making last minute phone-call

To bring their partners and lovers, welcoming and embracing.

Rhythms of waterfall,

As pieces of Niagara is far away Canada.

Where no child dares to play the ball

Like those living on the fertile lands of Grenada.



You’re associated with nature

Aside, becomes visible in the reflection of a picture,

Which is taken today and tomorrow.


You’re often seen in the night

When there’s availability of light,

In the storeroom or bedroom with your mattress and pillow.


You’re close friend to all races even though your colour is dark

It doesn’t matter if a person is called Mark,

But, it depends on the direction which you naturally follow.


You’re like the stranger to an innocent one unknown

So, it’s a wonder to the kids who’re not grown,

Yet, night by night you pursue in the motion so slow.


You’re made from what’s solid

And sometimes appear to be rigid and not vivid,

Well, that’s how to end your descriptive now.

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