Tag Archives: Blair A. Rose

A & B Writings in Journals, Showcases, and Contests (N – Z)

This page has grown fairly quickly, so I’m breaking it up in to two pages. For A – M, go here. For books, go here. This is exclusively for creative pieces by Antiguans and Barbudans accepted to established literary journals, festivals (and other notable literary platforms), and contests (not pieces posted only to personal blogs) as I discover (and in some cases, re-discover) them. Primarily, the focus is on pieces accessible online (i.e. linkable) because those are easiest to find; but it is not limited to these. It is intended as a record of our publications and presentation of creative works beyond sole authored books. Naturally, I’ll miss some things. You can recommend (in fact, I welcome your recommendations), but, as with all areas of the site, additions/subtractions are at the discretion of the admin.

NANTON, ERROL ‘BUMPY’ – ‘Dance of the Masks’ and selections from Dynamics’ 2007 mas which revisited the best of Antigua’s Carnival over 51 years (visual art – costumes; 2001’s presentation ‘Dance of the Masks’  grew out of Nanton’s fascination with the tribal masks of Africa) – Carnival is All We know: an Anthology Celebrating 50 Years of Antigua’s Carnival and the Creativity of Our Writers & Artists (edited by Joanne C. Hillhouse and published as a supplement in the Daily Observer) – 2007

NICHOLAS, NNEKANaima and Forgiveness (fiction) – in intersectantigua.com – 2020

NICHOLSON, KEMAL OSMELMa Belle (fiction, 2006 Wadadli Pen short story award winner) – Anansesem (the Wadadli Pen special issue) – 2011

NICHOLSON, LIATekin’ Ahn Dey (fiction, 2004 Wadadli Pen short story award winner) – Anansesem (the Wadadli Pen special issue) – 2011

ODLUM, AUTUMNLearning and Loving Pink (non-fiction) – in intersectantigua.com – 2020

O’DONOGHUE, ANGELICARoad Trip to Paradise (fiction, 2006 Wadadli Pen award winning story) – Anansesem (the Wadadli Pen special issue) – 2011

OLATUNJI, MALI – ‘Ghost of a Jambull’ (visual art – photography) – © 1985, this image consists of layered elements i.e. Fort James jetty looking towards St. John’s, lit by moonlight, over the image of a Bull. “The concept has to do with evanescing, and final death of one of our African inherited cultural icons, killed in the artist’s view by the embracement of modernity (outsider-ness) and the over-willing negation of our lived traditions (self-ness). The Bull is hovering over St. John’s harbour in search of his killers to BUTT them to hell.” (accompanying text) – Carnival is All We know: an Anthology Celebrating 50 Years of Antigua’s Carnival and the Creativity of Our Writers & Artists (edited by Joanne C. Hillhouse and published as a supplement in the Daily Observer) – 2007

O’MARDE, DORBRENEExcerpt from Send out You Hand (a novel) (fiction) – Tongues of the Ocean (special issue – Artists and Writers of Antigua and Barbuda edited by Joanne C. Hillhouse) – 2014

PERFam Constellation – Me Kali (visual art) – in intersectantigua.com – 2020

PHILLIP, ARITAMental Health and This is not Love (non-fiction) – in intersectantigua.com – 2020

PHILLIPS, ROWAN RICARDONight of the Election (poetry) – Poem of the Day at Poetry Book Society – January 20th 2021

PHILLIPS, ROWAN RICARDOPandemic Files: Prelude (poetry) – The Yale Review – 2020

“In the weeks between her death and being
Laid to rest, life became COVID-19.
Both the living and the dead shared one air.
Then the service came, and I was not there.
I watched from the safe distance of an app
As my mother and uncle, masked among
The masked few in a pewless space, made peace
With the orphans who’d come to take their place.
Looking at them on screen was like looking
Out at the world through the bars of a cage.”

PHILLIPS, ROWAN RICARDOScreens (poetry) – The Night Heron Barks – 2020

PHILLIPS, ROWAN RICARDO – reading at Poets Out Loud – Fordham University – 2011

PHILLIPS, ROWAN RICARDOReverse Eurydice and Apollo: Season Three (poetry) – Granta – 2010

PHILLIPS, ROWAN RICARDO – Closing Night’s Nocturne (poetry) – The New Republic – 2005

PICKERING, ROSIE – Damarae (poetry) – Interviewing the Caribbean (Caribbean Childhood: Traumas and Triumphs Pt. 1) edited by Opal Palmer Adisa – December 2019

PLATTS-COSTELOE, FREYAillustration for The Scary Night by Zuri Holder (art winner in the 2011 Wadadli Pen Challenge) – Anansesem (the Wadadli Pen special issue) – 2011

PRINCE, ALTHEA – How you Panty get wet? (fiction, from her book Ladies of the Night) – in Carnival is All We know: an Anthology Celebrating 50 Years of Antigua’s Carnival and the Creativity of Our Writers & Artists (edited by Joanne C. Hillhouse and published as a supplement in the Daily Observer) – 2007

RICHARDS, ROSALIESmitten  – (poetry, 2012 award winning Wadadli Pen Challenge poem) – Tongues of the Ocean (special issue – Artists and Writers of Antigua and Barbuda edited by Joanne C. Hillhouse) – 2014

RICHARDS, ROSALIEThe Creation (fiction, 2006 award winning Wadadli Pen short story) – Anansesem (Wadadli Pen special edition) – 2011

RICHARDSON, BERNARD – ‘True Blue’ and ‘Colourful Smiles’ (visual art – photography) and 1996 band of the year award winning mas ‘Oh Barbuda!’ (visual art – costumes interpreting features like the frigate bird and Martello Tower) for Vitus Mas Troupe – in Carnival is All We know: an Anthology Celebrating 50 Years of Antigua’s Carnival and the Creativity of Our Writers & Artists (edited by Joanne C. Hillhouse and published as a supplement in the Daily Observer) – 2007

ROMEO-MARK, ALTHEATwo Poems: Crossing Frontiers and Crossing the Road – KabulPress.org – 2019

ROMEO-MARK, ALTHEA – Salacia’s Revenge (poetry) – Womanspeak: A Journal of Art and Writing by Caribbean Women Volume 9 – 2018

ROMEO-MARK, ALTHEA – Runners in the Marathon of Time  (poetry) – Womanspeak: A Journal of Art and Writing by Caribbean Women Volume 8 – 2016

ROMEO-MARK, ALTHEA – Camp (poetry) – Moko: Caribbean Arts & Letters – 2016

Excerpt: “We read menacing messages in the scowls
 of passers-by. Some circle around,
 mark the territory with treads of footprints,
 count down days to our departure.”

ROMEO-MARK, ALTHEASmall Island Deprivations Unwanted Visitors (poetry) –  Tongues of the Ocean (special issue – Artists and Writers of Antigua and Barbuda edited by Joanne C. Hillhouse) – 2014

ROMEO-MARK, ALTHEA – Neighbour’s in the Wood Shack, Desiree’s Revenge, Flawless, Play-Mamas, and A Kind of Refuge/Living in Limbo (poetry) – Womanspeak: A Journal of Writing and Art by Caribbean Women, Volume 7 – 2013

ROMEO-MARK, ALTHEAThe Haunt of Alma Negron (poetry) in St. Somewhere – 2013

ROMEO-MARK, ALTHEA – Burdened (poetry – which is quoted below along with six others) – Published in KRITYA Poetry Journal – 2012

Excerpt: “Everything is on her head.
She trudges forward.
A straw mat tops the aluminum basin
filled with rescued essentials.
Her face, veiled in dust,
masks the fear beating her breast.
Her feet, swollen from endless trooping,
take her where others go.
Carrying memories of death,
she follows a long trek to nowhere,
and pauses only to suckle the child
strapped to her back.”

ROMEO-MARK, ALTHEA – Love at first Sound (poetry) – Published in Off the Coast, Maine’s International Literary Journal – 2011

Excerpt: “She loved the rhythm
of their singing
and the music of letters
spun off tongues,
that whirled in her ears.”

ROMEO-MARK, ALTHEALiberian Curfew (poetry) – Tongues of the Ocean – 2010

ROMEO-MARK, ALTHEAThe Nation Builders  (poetry) -at Medellin Poetry Festival – 2010

Excerpt: “…condemned as job snatchers
Pounced on by immigration
They are herded into vans
Shackled like cattle…”

ROMEO-MARK, ALTHEAWaking the Obeah Within Us  (poetry – part of a series including the poems Jumbi Eyes, Clippings, Turn the Broomstick Up, FRAID, Web Weaving) – Women Writers – 2008

ROMEO-MARK, ALTHEARevolution and Reggae (poetry) – Calabash – 2007

ROMEO-MARK, ALTHEAEaster Sunday (poetry) – The Caribbean Writer – Volume 10 1996

Excerpt: “They say if you come back they goin’ block the entrance to the church.”
“For what? What I do to them?”
“They say you make the man leave his wife of twenty years to marry you.”
“But, that’s their business?”
“They don’t see how Joseph could leave his wife to marry you. You know what they call you?”
“What?”
“Black, ugly, long mouth. . .”

ROMEO-MARK, ALTHEANager Man, Poverty, No Teeth Nana, Cha-Cha Town’s Blackbird (poetry) – published in Palaver – Downtown Poet’s Co-op, New York – 1978

Excerpt: “Bokrah man
lashing whip ‘pon bank.
Nager man
lashing whip ‘pon back
when slavery
done gone long time.”

ROSE, BLAIR A.  The Day I became a Man (fiction, 2006 award winning Wadadli Pen short story) – Anansesem (Wadadli Pen special edition) – 2011

S., CALVIN – ‘Animale’ (visual art – designer gown done in leopard print, worn by Kai Davis in 1998 when she won the Antigua Carnival Queen and 1999 when she won Ms. Caraval title in St. Vincent), ‘Le Papillon’ (visual art – designer gown worn by Jermilla Kirwan who won the best evening wear prize and the crown in the 1996 Antigua Carnival Queen competition), and ‘Rumours’ (visual art – designer gown worn in 1999 by Antigua Carnival Queen contestant Kim Phillips; Rumours was part of a theme chronicling a year of Jealousy, Rumours, Scandal, Fame, and Triumph) – Carnival is All We know: an Anthology Celebrating 50 Years of Antigua’s Carnival and the Creativity of Our Writers & Artists (edited by Joanne C. Hillhouse and published as a supplement in the Daily Observer) – 2007

SIMON, DAVIDOpen Secrets (poetry) – in intersectantigua.com – 2020

SIMON, MONIQUE S. Color of Love (poetry) – Calabash Volume 3 Number 2 Fall/Winter 2005

SIMON, MONIQUE S.NIGHT LIGHT (Ode to Bolans Village, Antigua –‘Home’) (poetry) – Calabash Volume 3 Number 2 – 2005

Excerpt: “It was night, so it was light
Island light
Home for the night light
Man whispering to woman light
Child teasing child ‘bout daytime, schoolyard game light
Extension chord attached to hanging bulb over old wood tables with dominoes, cards,
and checkerboards light
Bob Marley, Short Shirt, King Obstinate, Charlie Pride, old-time calypso light
Home from ‘de week doing live-in maid job light

It was night, so it was light carried like electric current throughout the night in the small
village…

Tonight, Saturday night
Bolans was dark but it was light, real light”

SIMON, MONIQUE S. – Raven in my Arms (poetry) – Calabash Volume 3 Number 2 Fall/Winter – 2005

SPENCER, CHARLENE – Stranger (poetry) – (p. 31) in The Caribbean Writer Volume 28 Volume_28__2014__5433ea290b7cf_150x225 –  2014

TAYLOR, YORIEI lied to My Therapist (fiction) – intersectantigua.com – 2020

TAYLOR, YORIEYou (poetry) – intersectantigua.com – 2020

THOMAS, DEVRAHer Missing Fingers  (fiction) – Tongues of the Ocean (special issue – Artists and Writers of Antigua and Barbuda edited by Joanne C. Hillhouse) – 2014

THOMAS, DEVRASands and Butterflies (fiction, 2011 Wadadli Pen award winning story) – Anansesem (Wadadli Pen special issue) – 2011

TOBITT, WILLIAM ‘SHELLY’ – Look what they have done to my song (calypso) – in Carnival is All We know: an Anthology Celebrating 50 Years of Antigua’s Carnival and the Creativity of Our Writers & Artists (edited by Joanne C. Hillhouse and published as a supplement in the Daily Observer) – 2007

WALKER-JACOBS, LATISHA – Market Day (fiction, 2011 award winning Wadadli Pen story) – Anansesem (Wadadli Pen special issue) – 2011

WALTER, SELVYN – (non-fiction) Excerpt from the chapter ‘Ole Time’ Christmas and Antiguan Characters in his book Bank Alley Tales – in Carnival is All We know: an Anthology Celebrating 50 Years of Antigua’s Carnival and the Creativity of Our Writers & Artists (edited by Joanne C. Hillhouse and published as a supplement in the Daily Observer) – 2007

WILLIAMS (NOW WHYTE), FLOREEYohan! – published in Anansesem – 2010

WILLIAMS (NOW WHYTE), FLOREE – The Pulse (non-fiction) – in Carnival is All We know: an Anthology Celebrating 50 Years of Antigua’s Carnival and the Creativity of Our Writers & Artists (edited by Joanne C. Hillhouse and published as a supplement in the Daily Observer) – 2007

WILLIAMS, ZION EBONYThe Night I went to Cricket (fiction – 2012 finalist in the Wadadli Pen Challenge) – Tongues of the Ocean (special issue – Artists and Writers of Antigua and Barbuda edited by Joanne C. Hillhouse) – 2014

WILLIAMS-KING, AMBERLike the Sea rushing in (non-fiction) – in intersectantigua.com – 2020

WILLIAMS, RHONDA (AKA INDIRA WILLS)Good Hair, The Universe in Her Eyes, Untethered (visual art) – in intersectantigua.com – 2020

WILLUMIn Chrysalis (non-fiction) – in intersectantigua.com- 2020

WILLUMHe is Like Him, I am Proud, and Ouroboros (poetry) – in intersectantigua.com – 2020

As with all content on wadadlipen.wordpress.com, except otherwise noted, this is written by Joanne C. Hillhouse (author of The Boy from Willow Bend, Dancing Nude in the Moonlight, Musical Youth, Oh Gad!, With Grace, and Lost! A Caribbean Sea Adventure/Perdida! Una Aventura en el Mar Caribe). All Rights Reserved. If you enjoyed it, check out my page on author blog  and/or facebook, and help spread the word about Wadadli Pen, my books, and my freelance writing-editing-coaching-workshop services. You can also subscribe to the site to keep up with future updates. Thanks.

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The Day I Became A Man by Blair A. Rose

[ 2006 Young Explorer Wadadli Youth Pen Prize Honourable Mention]

It was a hot summer day so my friends and I decided to go to the beach. The crystal blue, clear water was very refreshing and invigorating. We were just playing around, splashing and laughing joyfully, when my father’s voice interrupted our giggles. My father’s voice was deep and sounded like thunder and African drums at the same time. He called my name and by his tone of voice I knew he had found out that I’d broken his favourite razor.

I started home, my hands trembling, beads of sweat running down my face. I could no longer hear my father’s loud cries; the beating of my heart was all I could hear. ‘Thump, Thump.’

The road under my feet was hot and dusty, but I could care less. My house came into sight. Usually after school I was happy to see our white four room wooden house with blue shutters and a great amount of fruit trees in the yard, but not today. I just stood on the road brain dead, but my feet kept moving. As I went up my walkway and saw my father’s red, old, beaten-up car, my feet moved slower. My eyes saw everything as if it was the last time I would see anything. My ears picked up every sound, from the rustling in the bushes to neighbors pots and pans.

I opened the door to my house, and, before I could step in, a big muscular hand grabbed and dragged me in. It was my father and he was angry. His veins popped out of his neck, his face was turning red, and I could swear I saw smoke coming out of his ears. Then, I saw a familiar and frequent visitor of mine – the strap in my father’s arm. I knew the drill. Pants down, then my father raised his hand. I felt my skin ripped off my back but I did not scream or cry because I knew that would lead to more.

After my father was done, he sent me away and I went tearing down the road back to the beach to soak my wounds. I met the boys playing and by the look on their faces, I knew they felt sorry for me. They, too, were all too familiar with their own fathers’ strap. They gathered their stuff and left me alone. At last, I was free to scream and cry. My tears flowed like an infinite waterfall. No matter how hard I tried, I could not stop crying. I felt bad and hypocritical, since I was always bragging to my friends that real men do not cry and here I was whimpering like a homeless dog. The tears finally stopped. A new emotion took over. I was angry with my father for beating me over a rusty old razor. I decided to look for a job and move out of my parent’s house, then never talk to my father again.

After a couple of hours in the sea, I felt the cool night breeze and decided to go home.

When I reached home, my mother’s car was in the driveway. The smell of her cooking made me feel a little better. I could hardly enjoy my dinner for I was still sore and could hardly sit properly. However, that was not the worst; I had to sit next to my father. My mother must have sensed the tension, because she did not mind when I wanted to go to bed early, which she usually did not condone.

A few minutes later, she walked into my room. I preferred my mother to my father because she had a sweeter and gentler nature. She sat on my bed, I put my head on her lap, and she stoked my long curly hair. She asked me if I was upset and I replied yes. She said “you might think it unfair for your father to beat you for something so old and which has no monetary value but it had sentimental value to your father”. She then told me the story of how my father had gotten that razor from his father when he joined the army. His father now thought of him as a man. My mom told me, “In those days when your father thought you were a man it meant that you were responsible and ready for life”. When she had finished the story, she asked if I realized why it meant so much to my father. I did and I never felt so bad in my life. She got up, turned off the light, wished me sweet dreams, and went out of my room.

All night I could not sleep. I realized I had destroyed the one thing my father cherished. Probably the only thing he had left from his father. I got up and went downstairs. I saw the pieces of the razor and I decided to fix it. I went outside and walked, barefoot in the dew-covered grass, to the toolbox to get the soldering iron. I stayed up all night fitting and welding the pieces together; by morning I was finished. I gave the razor a polish until it shone as new. I still had some time until my father woke up and decided to make a wooden box for it, which I lined with velvet my mom had lying around the house. I went back to bed dreaming of my father’s surprised face.

I came down to breakfast to find my father staring at the box in front of him. I told him to open it. He did, his face lit up with the brightest smile and most appreciative look a man could have. He told me he could not keep it. My face fell with disappointment. He pushed it towards me. “Here, it is yours, because today you showed me you are a man; and maybe one day when your son turns into a man you will give it to him”. I never felt so proud in all my life. I looked at my father and realized that like me, he was holding back his tears.

I will never forget the day I became a man.

THE END

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Copyright of the winning Wadadli Pen stories and/or art work featured on this site belongs to the creators of the individual works and are used here purely for promotional and educational purposes. Other blog content, except otherwise noted, is created and/or maintained by Joanne C. Hillhouse – coordinator of the Wadadli Youth Pen Prize, and author of The Boy from Willow Bend and Dancing Nude in the Moonlight. Site content should not be copied, distributed, transmitted, used for commercial purposes, altered, transformed, or built upon without the consent of the copyright holders.

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