Ras Il;;ey sang about “Don’t Let Kaiso Die” and we had been hearing from all the older artistes that the younger calypsonians are only interested in wuk-up music. They oldsters believe that the true calypso in lost in the hands of the youth. But I feel to differ. I have see Sir Ruel and heard many other youngsters with ability. In fact, you might remember from one of my earlier poems that one of them made me cry. All art forms go through the renaissances; it reflects the thinking of the people at the time. Like most other things, they will go full circle.

 

Bridge The Gap   Bygone days calypso was sweet Rhythms from the soul to reach the feet I think the songs nowadays speak to the spine Doing no more than making listeners wind Giving regular Bajans, rubber bands in the waist Entice them to wuk-up, where ever the place The surviving writers worry that we’d Have no soul from our forefathers’ seed Everything the past great built in the music Gone, displaced by the new, more rhythmic And will die, be lost forever, to never return People may never again see the likes of “Mr. Harding can’t burn”