The theme for this edition of the Caribbean writer is “disruption, Disguise, and Illuminations.” More and more, as history meets day-to-day experiences, epiphanies unfold, and, as we self-interrogate the disruption motifs in many of these illuminations, the roots of prevailing disruptions emerge, complicated by disguise. According to St. Thomas Source, a Virgin Islands newspaper, volume 36 boasts insightful and exciting poetry, short stories, personal essays, interviews, and book reviews by established as well as emerging writers from the Caribbean and its diaspora. Gail Widmer is the versatile and skillful cover artist for this edition. It can also be ordered on the journal’s website at www.thecaribbeanwriter.org or through PayPal.
Its website
(https://www.thecaribbeanwriter.org/)
states that The Caribbean Writer (TCW)-–Where the Caribbean Imagination Embraces the World-–is an international, refereed, literary journal with a Caribbean focus, founded in 1986 and published annually by the University of the Virgin Islands.
Our mission is to publish quality writing by
established writers that reflects the culture of the Caribbean; promotes and
fosters a strong literary tradition; and serves as an institute for the
development of emerging writers.
TCW features new and exciting voices from the region, and beyond, that explores the diverse and multi-ethnic culture in poetry, short fiction, personal essays, creative non-fiction, and short plays. Their names can be seen on the back cover of the journal seen above.
Social, cultural,
economic, and sometimes controversial issues are also explored, employing a wide
array of literary devices. TCW also publishes translations, book reviews,
interviews, and special sections offering insight into the dynamics of
Caribbean society and showcases visual art by leading and emerging artists of
the region.
I am happy to share my poems below, between the covers of this wonderful international literary journal, with fellow
writers of poetry, fiction, essays, artists, and writers of reviews from the
Caribbean and the African diaspora.
Poems published in The Caribbean Writer, Volume 36, 2022
Ah Nyam Dem Words
(On reading the works of Caribbean Writers)
Ah nyam dem—devour every word
in books of Caribbean stories
piled at my bedside in my European home.
I wrap myself in tales about my people,
revisit the magic of healing herbs,
and voodoo, obeah, our hovering other world.
Ah nyam dem words. They are breakfast, lunch, dinner.
They ground my feet, nourish my soul,
give me light when I am beaten down by dark winter,
keep me warm when I am cold.
Ah nyam dem words, chapter after chapter—
all soused in the marrow of Caribbean customs.
They offer starter, main course, dessert
in my fantastical journey.
Reading is my free passage to my distant home.
There is no endless flying, no cancelled flights,
no interrogation by immigration.
I hear my people’s voices,
walk with them in markets,
ride with them on calypso-bombarded buses,
hear the sucking of teeth— chuuuuuups,
the measured sound of our annoyance,
stretching in its elasticity,
hear the unrestrained,
infectious belly laughs
that grab our hearts
and are slow to depart from memory.
I hear the screams of souls
who fear losing themselves
when ensnared by
jabless, sukahna, Mami Water,
and by jumbis that refuse
to depart the living world.
I see how we speak without speaking—
arms akimbo, eye-cutting, eyebrows moving,
our lips and noses pointing.
Ah nyam dem all, protein-filled stories
that are food-words for my soul.
Dear Ancestors
(Memoranda between
Worlds)
Our
forebears brought them
from
West African shores—
the
unwritten codes of conduct,
the
secrets to longevity,
pacts
kept between the living
and
long-gone ancestors.
They
passed them down to us.
Herb-filled
lockets placed around
a
newborn’s neck wards off the jealous dead.
White
sand spread around homes
keep
the recently departed at bay
when
they come by to say farewell,
sing
their lamentations.
The
broomstick turned up
in a corner says,
dear friend, dead fiend,
your time is done here,
we do not care
for unannounced visits.
The
broomstick is turned up
for
the living, too,
to
halt unwelcomed road-warriors
peddling
wares and religion.
We
have now shunned
the
public shaming of bedwetters
once
forced to march down village roads
with
clanging cans tied to their feet.
But
we thank you, dear elders,
for
the healing herbs and bushes
that
mend broken bones and spirits,
that
minister to maladies
which
test our will to live.
You left us many proverbs—
“The
death of whelks
is
the joy of soldier crab.”
“When
it rains, monkeys
say
they should have built a house.”
“Moon
runs fast, but day catch him.”
“One
hand can’t clap.”
Your
Memoranda imbibed,
the
harmful noted, discarded.
We
will never close the door
between
the realms
of
the living and the departed.
Your
ancient wisdom still lights our path.
©
Althea Romeo Mark
December 2022 Blog
Here is the link
to the December 2022 blog which features my short story, “Wrestling Iguanas,”
reprinted in Bookends of Jamaica, Sunday Observer, December 2022.
https://aromaproductions.blogspot.com/2022/12/my-short-story-wrestling-iguanas.html
Althea
Romeo Mark’s upcoming publication, On the Borders of
Belonging, is expected to be published in the summer of 2023. She is the
author of two full-length poetry collections, The Nakedness of New
and If Only the Dust Would Settle, (English-German), and three chapbooks, Beyond
Dreams: The Ritual Dancer, Two Faces, Two Phases and Palaver, Shu-Shu
Moko Jumbi. The Silent Dancing Spirit is an anthology that includes poems
by Althea Romeo-Mark and prose and poetry from participants in a Black Writers’
workshop conducted at the Department of African American Affairs at Kent State
University.

.jpg)

Althea, these are wonderful poems. I only wish David were here to share his appreciation with me--and you.
ReplyDeletePhillis
Enjoyed your poems; loved the proverbs inserted. Thanks so much for this pleasure.
ReplyDelete"Ah Nyam Dem Words," makes clear what sense the nonsense of a way of life can make when you are far away from it and you are missing the logic of what you used to think was not logical at all. When you are missing what is strung together in another way, in another world, to possess it, to see it clearly, you reach through books - through literature to touch it. And for what the author, in "Dear Ancestors," thanks the past, the future shall have to thank her - for bearing culture as she does - with so much love and in such accurate detail.
ReplyDelete