Biography of Buxton Shippy
Buxton Shippy was born in 1955 in Montego Bay, Jamaica. He was raised by his grandmother (Hepseba Richards) and his aunt (Rosalyn Hughes) after his grandmother died in 1962.
He attended Albert Town Secondary School and Montego Bay Technical Institute. After graduating from technical school he went to Kingston, Jamaica, where he worked as a Draftsman for seven years. While he was living in Kingston he attended the Jamaica School of Drama (now Edna Manley College of the Performing Arts) for three years. It was during this time that the group Poets in Unity was formed. Buxton joined the group and performed solo and collectively on radio and in other settings.
In 1984 he migrated to the United States to study architecture. He earned a Bachelor of Architecture degree from Boston Architectural College.
He worked as an Architectural Designer for Deck House Incorporated for fourteen years and for Hezekiah Pratt and Associates for five years. He is now Principal at Buxton Lloyd Shippy + Associates.
Buxton is married to Phyllis Ann Wilson and has three children: Buxton II, Phylicia and Phebe.
Buxton Shippy Poems
Anansi, the clever trickster Always takes center stage Hard as he tried Could not trick brother dog
A Solid Black
I am a solid black The mystery ridiculed And misunderstood On the pages.
Don't let the pen lay idle Where innocent blood shed; Where there are starving Children to be fed.
Black Dreadlocks With his red Green and gold Twisting
Political warriors kill Without a touch With weapons of fear,
Mister Poverty is a strong man, Built with potent genes; Been around since the dawn of creation, Infecting each generation.
I am not in need He is my provider He admonishes me For my benefit
All The Way
Emotions twisting Mind racing towards the end Uncontrolled life edging Pray to the Deity
Evil On Foot
For ten years Evil stood on the hills Of Afghanistan Evil on foot
Come Holy Spirit
He is walking on the surface of the earth. Searching for souls for Messiah. He is the Holy Spirit. He wants to help
Since natural life is transient I cling to your immutable words: The living organisms Powered to heal or kill,
An Old Tune, An Old Song
The Far Right tear bandages Off racial wounds With talk about food stamps; Like their ancestors,
Hear I Come-2
All five thousand stand up, Turn around three times, Clockwise. Raise both hands to the sky,
All day long they sit on rotted rocks Playing melodies for their captors; Ears wide open but nothing heard In this wilderness of gloom.
Sons and daughters
In this World System
You need clarity
It can help, it can hurt
Have to know the laws
That govern earth
Be contented with a little
Than much behind bars