Robber Talk

THE EDITOR: In this Carnival poem, Robber Talk, traditional ole mas characters are brought to life and enjoy a spirited conversation about their future roles in today’s Carnival.

Robber blew his whistle and tapped the white-fringed black hat with one finger.

"I am the Midnight Robber. I came to talk, not fight. I have no time to linger.

If you don’t mind, without further ado, I am going to start the meeting.

All protocols observed, let's dispense of any formal greeting.

Speak your mind, be respectful. I will not tolerate any bacchanal.

Now, tell me about your experiences at this year's Carnival.”

King Sailor put his hand up, head shaking in disbelief.

Trying hard to hold back tears, he failed to hide his grief.

"Robber, nobody doh care 'bout we and de part we play in history.

Dem eh know about Canboulay or how we achieve fame and glory.

Ah get cuss for throwing powder on a gyul, she say it make she sneeze.

Ah see a next one wearing winter boots like she foot going and freeze!"

Robber looked to Jumbie ten feet up in the air: "Moko, what did you see from your vantage point?"

"Boss, I was ready to pelt way meh stilts, siddong and smoke a joint!

A big truck nearly bounce meh dong when ah was chipping behind a steelband!

And doh talk ’
bout de blasted DJ – he play de music so loud, he drong out all de pan!"

Jab Molassie shouted, "So wat dem chirren learning in school, ah talking about de youth?

As Sailor say, dey want to play mas buh fraid powder, dais de honest truth!"

Robber's eyes fell on a buxom wench, sitting upfront, ample bosom on display.

Dame Lorraine, you've been very quiet today – have you anything to say?

Talk to me, sweet Madame – no need to hide behind your fan!"

"Oh Robber darling – how I miss singing and dancing with my ladies in their elegant dan-dan!"

Blue Devil cracked his whip and rose drunkenly to his feet.

"So how come we doh see no more bat, baby doll or burrokeet?

No dragon, no pierrot, no fancy Indian – ent all of we belong on the street?"

Robber blew his whistle twice: "I am the Midnight Robber. I am no mocking pretender! I was not made in China. I am an original!

My question is how do we combine the modern mas with the traditional?"

Bookman put his pen down and chimed in with his two cents worth.

"We have to show the money men that without us Carnival will no longer be the greatest show on earth."

The door swung open and in strolled Minstrel with Tobago Fiddler right behind.

"All yuh, relax, doh get tie up – ent yuh know time longer dan twine?

We go send dem pretty mas band ova so, gee dem de whole Socadrome

Buh yuh see de Savannah, dat is sacred ground – dais we Carnival home!

Me and meh pardners comin’ hard next year wid plenty banjo, maracas and rattler

We go make sweet music all over tong – now drag yuh bow, Mister Fiddler!"

Robber blew his whistle for the third time and used his best robber voice:

"I am the Midnight Robber and I say that we have no choice.

If we have to survive, we must stay alive. We will find every seamstress and tailor.

We will not go quietly into the night – do you hear me, King Sailor?

We will take to the sky like bats out of hell; shake the ground with our devils feet!

The opening morn will see jab jabs marching through every village and city street!

If not for us, every Carnival, including ours, will end up looking the same.

Tribes with half naked woman in beaded thongs, seeking their 15 minutes of fame!

Put on your thinking caps, go back to the drawing board – let creativity beat vulgarity!

The original mother of ole mas, Dame Lorraine, will deal with those in authority!”

Robber blew his whistle in four short blasts, adjusted the black hat on his head.

"I am the Midnight Robber. My name will strike fear into anyone who seeks to destroy me – I will fill their hearts with dread!”

CAROLYN GUPTE

via e-mail