Celebrating Maha Shivaratri

February 25, 2017






                                                           Lord Shiva Drinking Poison


The Night of Shiva

by Leonard Dabydeen






Lord Shiva Linga

worship with devotion for love

throw ignorance and negativity to the wind

let spring of joy and prosperity unfurl with regal pomp for peace and happiness.


A Fib Poem



Gothic Bride of Tombsville

October 26, 2016



Tombsville JPEG.jpg

Elizabetha prances nimbly in the room

Her waist-long hair sparkling

Like Indian diamonds in dawn of moonlight

Eyes glowing like coal fire

Thump, thump, thump her red shoes echo

Stirring bat-like creatures flitting to and fro

Across cob-webby ceiling

Litter with dangling, dead dragon flies


Gothic Bride JPEG.jpg

How much longer must she wait, she ponders

Pouting her ruby red lips at the rattling door

An angry bat reels in flight

Slamming bone-plastered door

Squeak, squeak, squeak the door wails

With creaky, rustic hinges moaning

Elizabetha screams in drumming impatience

Then dead bolt frees door ajar

And she heaves in delight

As whiffs of flesh-roasted incense

Linger into her nostrils

To signal her groom’s arrival

Through the Gates of Tombsville.


Our First Lady: Michelle Obama

October 19, 2016

As Our First Lady: Michelle Obama


She has rhythm in her prance

Her color rich without askance

Nothing in her stride to hide

As our First Lady surfing the tide.


Brisk is her walk to a podium

She delivers her messages without idiom

Her hands move with her expression

As our First Lady holds no obsession.


You cannot attempt to grab her thoughts

So much to admire the way she walks

She strives for family, women’s rights

As our First Lady turns on the lights.















Musepie Press Shot Glass Journal Issue #20 – Poems by Leonard Dabydeen

October 1, 2016

SHOT GLASS JOURNALshot glass                                                               Issue #20 September 2016

 “… brevity is the soul of wit …”

 – William Shakespeare

Shot Glass Journal is an on-line poetry journal devoted to short poetry. Where other poetry journals publish poems of various lengths and forms, Shot Glass focuses on both free verse and form poetry of 16 lines or less. Shot Glass Journal believes in fostering emerging talent as well as publishing well established poets.

We hope you enjoy Issue #20, which features US and International sections. You will also find a Glossary of poetry forms which represent some of the poems published in Shot Glass issues.

Why only short poetry? It is far more difficult to capture a message in fewer words and still have an effect on a reader. Shot Glass is dedicated to those poets who have much to say in the fewest words possible. As William Shakespeare wrote in Hamlet, “…brevity is the soul of wit…”

International Poets

Art of Night


Night has no dark colour
just sinews of grey
with braids of light
shimmering glory
straight down on earth
moon gathering loneliness
with frenzy of light
reaching for the sky
clouds so silent
so cunning
and surreptitious
listening to forest muse
cities of concrete jungle
blast horns on winding roads
a ship comes to shore
from the aging seas.



In my coming days
what do you ask of me
what are your expectations
and where do I begin
as I dwell at the crossroads
of being and wanting to be
like clouds drifting
under clear blue skies
gathering thoughts
rummaging vicissitudes of life
in my silence
I have many dreams
I navigate identities
I sculpt loneliness
rooting banyan trees
I felicitate aloneness.

Bill Morley: Happy Birthday !

September 25, 2016




Bill is the author of GROANS FROM OLD BONES, a wonderful book of poetry. He has also authored numerous bibliographical books and a book of haiku poems.


birthday-png                                                              william-f-e-morley-jpeg

In appreciation of my book review of GROANS FROM OLD BONES, Bill sent me a letter which I am happy to share with you:

Dear Mr. Dabydeen:

Before proceeding to my subject, my pen is stayed by curiosity : I don’t recall

encountering that name before. What could be its national or etymological origins?

As for the person himself, whom I’ve yet to meet, I’m flattered by his interest

in my scribbles, which I regard as the effusions of an idle mind in its last remove.

If we may judge a person by their friends, I think we may also consider their literary interests in our appraisal.

A person’s library speaks volumes, so-to-speak. On the other hand, be cautious of those who worship Caesar, in order to inhale the mere dust from their robes. An inept analogy, since I can claim not even the most distant relationship with any great Roman orator!

Once a subject of the august British realm, now a proud citizen, with Ottawa

at the helm.

That’s my civic history.

Thank you for your kind words and my very best wishes.


(written September 24, 2016)




B00k Review: Groans From Old Bones

September 3, 2016




Canadian Author: William Felix Edmund Morley (nonagenarian)

 Book: Groans From Old Bones by William F.E. Morley (1920 – )

Book Review: Leonard Dabydeen



In the early 20th century, Edith Wharton (1862-1937) of the Age of Innocence (1920) fame wrote:

In spite of illness, in spite even of the archenemy sorrow, one can remain alive long past the usual date of disintegration if one is unafraid of change, insatiable in intellectual curiosity, interested in big things, and happy in a small way.


And D.H. Lawrence (1885-1930) of the canon publication of Sons and Lovers (1913) and Lady Chatterley’s Lover (1928), wrote in the first stanza of his poem, Beauty of Old Age:

             It ought to be lovely to be old

             to be full of the peace that comes of experience

             and wrinkled ripe fulfilment.



And Edmund Waller (1606-1687), an English poet who was thought of arguably as a pioneer of the classical couplet in English verse, reflected in this poem, Old Age:

                The seas are quiet when the winds give o’er;

                 So calm are we when passions are no more.

                 For then we know how vain it was to boast

                 Of fleeting things, so certain to be lost.

                 Clouds of affection from our younger eyes

                 Conceal that emptiness which age descries.


If within this fraternity of poetic minds we can luxuriate joyously on the richness of old age, or becoming old but fresh as sunshine in its glory across expansive horizons, it is requite for us to peruse the 45 poems in this book, Groans From Old Bones by nonagenarian author, William F.E. Morley. In Bill’s own words, this book is simply “some versification”. But simplicity aside, the author’s thought process is full of clarity and lucidity spanning only a short period of time, between 2014-2015. At age 90+, Bill’s poetry collection is phenomenal. In Barbara E. Kelly’s Note as Editor, this book is “…for your enjoyment…” And in summation, she says it is

“…a collection of Bill’s poetry. Bill is a very complex person, and you will see the many sides to him in this collection of his works. His poems will touch your heart, have you laughing and centering you at times with reality.”

Unequivocally in the Prologue, Bill delightfully sets the mind of the reader, or a poetry enthusiast, to pulsate with intent to open this book, Groans From Old Bones, only to read poem after poem,

                       Tales of old

                     Of Yesteryear

                   Herewith retold

                 To please your ear.

                   If you can cope,

                   As I surely hope,

               My heart with joy will cheer

                   (10 October, 2014)

And so behold with heart-full cheers, this enigmatic and complex nonagenarian author broods in our minds with a poem titled LIFE’S MEMORIES in thirteen lines (p.2),

                  The years go by and fill my head

                   With many memories of things done and said.

                   Of the friends I’ve loved in my long life,

                   With scenes of joy, but some of strife.

                   There are days of sunshine, and of cloud,

                   Of acts of shame, and some of which I’m proud.

                   There are bad words well said, but some are black.

                   Either way, they can never be taken back.

                 So keep thoughts pure, in a sound mind

                   Do unto others in a manner always kind.

                   Then, perhaps, if you’re lucky you’ll find

                   In the end your life has been worthwhile,

                   And you can look back with a happy smile!

                         (November, 2015)

In the same breath and lucidity of thought, the author resoundingly portrays how old age matters in this poem, TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS OF THE AGED (p.2),

Trials I have and quite a few

                 Then there’s tribulations too.

                 From the moment I awake,

               All my muscles start to shake.

               Then a shiver, down my spine,

               And my stomach starts to whine.

               Try to stand, fall back on bed,

               The nurse comes in, thinks I’m dead.

               Gives a shriek, falls in a faint,

               I fan her just to show I ain’t/

(November 2015)

Absolutely, Bill brings spontaneous laughter in gathering of the vagaries of old age. But what is significant to note is that each of the first nine lines in this poem has a syllabic count of seven. And the rhyme scheme – a a, b b, c c, d d, … sets the tone and rhythm of poems throughout the book. There is a splurge of fun, frolic and twists of Romanticism and some feeling of sadness, composted with pleasure when reading this collection of versification. In the reader’s reckoning there will be onomatopoeias and iambic meters that will foster Hallmark treasures for choices of poems. The images are surreal and amazingly interesting.

This book, GROANS FROM OLD BONES, according to Leslie H. Morley, of Morley Law Office in Kingston, Ontario, and son of the author, is just “a notch short of Byron” In an earlier e-mail on February 14, 2016, Leslie indicated to me that his Dad is “an old codger” who has been writing a lot of poetry recently, but “not Lord-Byron-level stuff.” He sent me a copy of his father’s book, which I received on July 8, 2016. During our conversation by e-mail, I enthused to Leslie that, as an author of books of poetry myself, I feel vehemently that poetry is the nectar that nourishes the soul. It vitalizes our own spirit of inner expression. Age has no limitations for poetry.

Any individual who loves to read poetry, will condescend unequivocally that this book, GROANS FROM OLD BONES may not be on the same top shelf with the great early 19th century English poet, George Byron. But aside of the traumatic and debauchery tidal waves that furrowed Byron into an emotional spurt of writing poetry, with an aggressive and enchanting rhyme scheme, Bill’s small book of poetry as a nonagenarian, certainly can be slated, in tone and context, as a “notch of Byron” indeed – referencing Leslie’s own words. The poems are short, underlining Shakespeare’s thought of “brevity is the soul of wit”. The rhyme and rhythm in each poem, line by line, stanza by stanza, couplets and sonnets rich in imagery, let the reader sways in musical entertainment. Reading one poem in the book urges you to read the next. Let us look at the first stanza from this poem, A TALE OF MODERN CRUSOES (p.7):

                       In a remote Pacific isle,

                       Off shipping routes by many a mile,

                       In a small and sheltered bluff,

                       Watered by the rains enough

                       A fruitful valley flourished there,

                       With fruit trees, both peach and pear,

                       Along the rocks were climbing grapes,

                       And juicy berries of many shapes.

(12 November, 2015)

And then follows the iambic rhythm in THE COUNTRY GIRL in five stanzas [first three stanzas here] (p.18),

                       She was pure, from the country,

                       When she came to town,

                       But that is where her morals

                       Were sadly to fall down.


                       She met a city slicker,

                       Took her to a bar and grill.

                       He knew liquor would be quicker

                       To gain his wicked will.


                       She became a Fallen Woman

                       Could not go back home.

                     So it was in city streets,

                     That she was left to roam.


And quickly the reader begins to get a little touch of Byron in Romanticism, reflecting on SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY in its poetic architecture. Thus the poems in Bill’s GROAN FROM OLD BONES are simple, short and somewhat experimental in the vignettes of his vast experiences in life. He sustains an almost analogous rigid rhyme scheme, rich in musical and sometimes jocular constructs with a Byron brush. The poems draw on social issues, family ties, friends and poignant moments that are personal in overtone. He speaks to life with sweet ambiance, as in this poem, PARADISE! (p. 24),

                     Wherever there is sunshine

                     That’s where I’d like to be,

                       Especially if the sun shines

                       On sand and tall palm tree.

(31 August, 2015)


Then Bill turns around with a sober tone in A PROMISE SOUGHT (P. 25),


                Though the way be long

                 And the roads so steep,

                 I can never forget

                 The promise I must keep.

                 And promise to keep I will,

                 No matter how long, and steep the hill.

(26 July, 2015)


Bill’s groans in this book echo sincerely with sinews and travesty of war. An Englishman with a die-hard Canadian spirit, he lived through the Second World War (1939-1945). He made no bones about his faith in the military in this poem, AN EPIC OF WAR (p. 6),


                   I was sent to Canada,

                   An allied friendly shore,

                   There in peace to learn to fight

                   In Britain’s gallant war.

[First stanza]

                  The last was in old Kingston,

                   River Thames ran past my door;

                   Sister Kingston in the New World,

                   Dwells on Ontario’s shore.

[Last stanza]

(20 November, 2015)


This book, GROANS FROM OLD BONES is dedicated “IN LOVING MEMORY OF MY DEAR WIFE BETH”. Bill writes in this versification, FOR BETH, A Sonnet of Sorrows (p.45), in the second stanza,

                   The memory lingers, I’ll never forget!

                   Beth died of dementia later that year.

                   The feeling endures for my precious dear:

                     With a heart full of love, there can be no regret.

(25 January, 2014)


On a more witty side, Bill offers us the title poem, GROANS FROM OLD BONES (p. 38),


                         I search my mind

                         For what can be,

                         The benefits of longevity.

                         I’m fairly sound

                         In wind and limb,

                         But my agility

                         Is rather grim.

                         But I recite

                           My ABC,

                           And know 2 plus 2

                           Do not make 3.

                           But what is worse

                           As you’ll agree,

                           Is that every hearse

                           I ever see

                           I always think

                           Has come for me.

                           So in the end you plainly see

                           I’ve nonagenarian senility!

(4 July, 2014 – Barry’s Bay, Ontario)


Leslie Morley wrote of his Dad, William Felix Edmund Morley (Bill), born 1920 – that he was a librarian at Queen’s University. Bill was responsible for “looking after the old books there until he retired at age 65”. For a few decades, Bill did extensive research and reading with an insatiable focus on Canadian history, a splash of poetry, critiques of writers – producing over forty publications of mainly bibliographical works

(reference to his publications: http://www.worldcat.org/search?q=au%3AMorley%2C+William+F.+E.%2C&qt=hot_author). Some of his most recent publications include, Tecumseh: Or, The Warrior of the West: A Poem, In four cantos (Early Canadian Poetry Series), John Richardson (Author), William F.E. Morley (Introduction) (1978); Pioneer life on the Bay of Quinte (1972), Ontario and the Canadian North (1978), A bibliographical study of Major John Richardson (1973), Seasons of Joy in Haiku (2007), Canadian Local Histories to 1950 : a Bibliography Vol III Ontario and the Canadian North (1978), Points of reference– : books chiefly from the working reference collection of William F.E. Morley with some additional materials from the libraries of the late R.E. Watters and others (2003), Kingston through the years: visitor’s accounts, 1758-1906 : Towards a Supplement to Britton Smith’s Kingston! Oh Kingston! (Kingston, 1987) (2013), Criteria for the evaluation of enumerative bibliographies (1979), Watermarks (1986), The bibliography of Ontario (1975?), Conversations with my cat (2012).

Reference: GROANS FROM OLD BONES, by William F.E. Morley; Editor, Barbara E. Kelly; Publisher, The Kingsley Press, Kingston, Ontario (2016), ISBN 978=0=9880290-4.

Book Review by Leonard Dabydeen, published author of Watching You, A Collection of Tetractys Poems, Xlibris Publications (2012); Searching for You, A Collection of Tetractys and Fibonaci Poems, Xlibris Publicatins (2015).



Wow!  That’s amazing Leonard.  Thanks for writing that.  He will be thrilled!


01 September, 2016


Leslie H. Morley

Canadian Deportation, Immigration & Citizenship Law

Follow me on Twitter; Connect to me on LinkedIn; Like me on Facebook; Learn About me

PRESIDENT, Kingston Employment & Youth Services (KEYS)

ACCREDITED FAMILY MEDIATOR, Ontario Association for Family Mediation

PAST PRESIDENT, Canadian Prison Law Association & Frontenac Law Association











211 Division Street, Kingston, ON   CANADA   K7K 3Z2

phone (613) 542-2192       email  les@lesmorley.com


Book:Groans From Old Bones

July 16, 2016



                                        Book of Versification by William F.E. Morley

Just Old Bones

(for William F.E. Morley: 1920-present)

By Leonard Dabydeen

14 July, 2016


A notch short of Byron

so amusing

entertaining to the core:

mind, body, and soul

walking you through archives and enclaves

jotting a memory here, there, everywhere

his amusement lingers

like perfume fragrances

in the botany of life

you desire to sit with him

watch him prancing

laugh a little from the heart

like Richardson’s Tecumseh

watch him bow a little

craving thoughts how to rhyme

uncaring about fetter of time

hear a little groan

a sombre tone

a witty smile

age matters for a while

ecstatic his life be known

deep in his old bone.


A Tribute to David H. Sookram

July 16, 2016

David H Sookram June 9 2016 JPEG                                                                      David H. Sookram


                 1930 -2016


Be it that he was dapper

Or dimple in manner or style

His texture was impregnable

So through to core and camaraderie.


His wit surfeit to say

Unflinching like granite rock

Eye to eye be as it may

Night or day, rain or shine.


A friend to many and foe to few

Triumphant his pursuit with much ado

Always there in bridled flair

To lend a hand without despair.

By Leonard Dabydeen, Brampton, Ontario


David Dabydeen: Tribute

July 8, 2016

A Tribute to My Father by Prof. David Dabydeen

David Dabydeen JPEG                                                                 Prof. David Dabydeen

Guyanese Online Blog



Freight Train Gone

by Leonard Dabydeen

Where hurt lies

deep in the heart

where pain goes beyond

boundaries cataclysmic

full of unanswerable questions

not knowing expectations

or outcomes from darkness

a beacon light

shines before you

to bear witness

how your door closes

with creaking hinges

as the freight train

continues on its journey.


My Best Friend

June 9, 2016

My Best Friend – Poem by Leonard Dabydeen

8 June is Best Friend’s Day
A good friend listens to your adventures, a best friend makes them with you.

My Best Friend

She carries me in her mind
wrapped in a cozy blanket
just to keep me warm;
my secrets I cannot hide
or try re-inventing
when her nearness
exudes a perfume of awareness;
she knows it all
sometimes I think
like a common thief:
every crevice, crack, and corner
where I heave a sigh
she raises a brow –
I am here for you, she says;
not only a shoulder
to lean on, but to embrace
heart to heart
as God only knows
she is my best friend.

Topic(s) of this poem: friendship