"Christmas Day": Twelve Poems and A Story for Christmas

Mary was a young girl when she gave birth to a child in a strange place. She was not surrounded by women and midwives and probably went through her entire pregnancy with only Joseph by her side. How many days did she spend walking through fields, doing her chores in silence, and thinking about the child who was kicking and stretching inside her? For Jesus, like all other babies, demanded the full attention of his parents who did not have the traditional support systems.

Again, the steadying presence of Joseph brought her through childbirth. But once the child was born, Mary’s pride surfaces and she will contend with God, if necessary (as any mother would), for the life of her son.

Christmas Day

It had been a hard nine months—her frail

body struggling to keep God alive inside her—

the morning sickness and the craving

for wheat germ and honey—she’d lost

her appetite for meat, and would only eat

the ripest fruit. When she tried to sleep,

on some nights, he would sit on her bladder,

then shift suddenly, and she’d wait

in the darkness until he’d settle down

to the pressure of her hands on her belly.

And when the time came, he wanted

to come out feet first, but Joseph turned him

around and guided him into the light.

She held Joseph’s hands, then lifted the child

to her breast and suckled him with the milk

made from her blood. For until he was ready

to do God’s work, he was her son.

***

"Joseph" : Twelve Poems and A Story for Christmas

Joseph

He could feel the cold coming on:
flurries of snow melted on his beard.

First his toes, fingers, climbing up his head,

numbness branched across his shoulders,

sagging under the burden.

How many years would he be given with his son

to see the lilies of Capernaum bud, flower, wither,

die and be reborn under the unrelenting sun,

the steady flame by which his life had burned?

He snapped dry twigs under his feet,

turned to his young bride, asleep on the floor--

after all the struggles, so beautiful by the hearth.

Calmly, he stoked the coals, and the embers

greeted his hands, his prayer with a promise

that this warmth, like peace, would live as long as his desire.

Excerpt from Twelve Poems and a Story for Christmas

The poems describe the journey of a newlywed couple, Mary and Joseph, to their ancestral homeland where they are to be registered in a census decreed by a tyrant. Mary is pregnant and Joseph knows that the child she is carrying is not his. As they travel through the harsh landscape, they are joined by strangers who have been summoned by dreams, visions, and supernatural events to bear witness to a child whose birth they are told is destined to change the course of human history.

In A Miami Christmas Story Raymond Allen, a despairing musician and family man, wrestles with his pride that is both the source of his sorrow and redemption.Twelve Poems and a Story for Christmas explores the inner lives of characters that surround this perennial story and reveals a human dilemma: to find meaning behind the events in our lives.

Mary's Journey

If only Joseph had listened when she told him
one of those three kings, she couldn’t tell which, 
was a harbinger of trouble. But Joseph, being Joseph

couldn’t turn away strangers lest they be angels
from God and welcomed them. The Magi showered
gifts on the newborn, but when they left, 

Mary discovered they had given the child
more than gold, frankincense, or myrrh.
Now she had to trudge through the village, 

to find this old woman, who everyone called
a witch because she knew herbs that could cure
or kill, and beg for a remedy to heal her son

of a sickness she had never seen before. 
The old woman peeled away the swaddling
cloths, wrapped around the child as if to staunch

a wound, went to the back of her hut, 
and pounded leaves into a poultice. 
“Rub this over his chest and he will get better.” 

“A man who is born for the cross can’t drown.” 
Mary nodded. She didn’t understand a word-- 
only what she needed to do to save her son’s life.

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas!

***

Brand New Cover, Same Great Christmas Story

The Christmas Dutch Pot Baby

On a cold Christmas Eve in Myrtle Grove, Joe and Myriam Lumley find a baby in a Dutch pot on their doorstep. Without hesitating, the Lumleys take the child, whom they name Eleanor, into their home. But little do they know, Attaberra, Queen of the Zemis, who has watched over the island since it rose out of the sea, has been watching their every move. The Queen has also made a prediction about the child. Will her prediction come true?

***

Last Day for FREE Download: The Christmas Dutch Pot Baby

Today is the last day for the FREE download my new children’s E-book, The Christmas Dutch Pot Baby, on the Amazon Kindle: http://goo.gl/Gusje

I love working with Christina. From the time she was in kindergarten, Christina and I have been creating Christmas cards, and The Christmas Dutch Pot Baby is the third book that we've worked on together. She's a gifted artist and I am lucky that she has collaborated with me on so many projects.

Set in the island of Jamaica, The Christmas Dutch Pot Baby is the story about Joe and Myriam Lumley, who find a baby in a Dutch pot on their doorstep. Without hesitating, the Lumleys take the child, whom they name Eleanor, into their home. But little do they know, Attaberra, Queen of the Zemis, who has watched over the island since it rose out of the sea, has been watching their every move. The Queen has also made a prediction about the child. Will her prediction come true?

The themes of family, hope, and redemption run through the book. It's what the Christmas story is all about."

***
Blog Disclosure Policy

Geoffrey Philp’s Blog Spot receives a percentage of the purchase price on anything you buy through links to Amazon, Shambala Books, Hay House, or any of the Google ads or Google Custom Search.


***

Disclaimer of Endorsement

The documents posted on this Web site may contain hypertext links or pointers to information created and maintained by other public and private organizations. These links and pointers are provided for visitors' convenience. I do not control or guarantee the accuracy, relevance, timeliness, or completeness of any linked information. Further, the inclusion of links or pointers to other Web sites or agencies is not intended to assign importance to those sites and the information contained therein, nor is it intended to endorse, recommend, or favor any views expressed, or commercial products or services offered on these outside sites, or the organizations sponsoring the sites, by trade name, trademark, manufacture, or otherwise.

Reference in this Web site to any specific commercial products, processes, or services, or the use of any trade, firm or corporation name is for the information and convenience of the site's visitors, and does not constitute endorsement, recommendation, or favoring by this blog.

Free for the Next 2 Days: The Christmas Dutch Pot Baby

My daughter and I have published a new children’s E-book, The Christmas Dutch Pot Baby, and for the next two days, our E-book may be downloaded for free on the Amazon Kindle: http://goo.gl/Gusje

I love working with Christina. From the time she was in kindergarten, Christina and I have been creating Christmas cards, and The Christmas Dutch Pot Baby is the third book that we've worked on together. She's a gifted artist and I am lucky that she has collaborated with me on so many projects.

Set in the island of Jamaica, The Christmas Dutch Pot Baby is the story about Joe and Myriam Lumley, who find a baby in a Dutch pot on their doorstep. Without hesitating, the Lumleys take the child, whom they name Eleanor, into their home. But little do they know, Attaberra, Queen of the Zemis, who has watched over the island since it rose out of the sea, has been watching their every move. The Queen has also made a prediction about the child. Will her prediction come true?

The themes of family, hope, and redemption run through the book. It's what the Christmas story is all about."

***
Blog Disclosure Policy

Geoffrey Philp’s Blog Spot receives a percentage of the purchase price on anything you buy through links to Amazon, Shambala Books, Hay House, or any of the Google ads or Google Custom Search.


***

Disclaimer of Endorsement

The documents posted on this Web site may contain hypertext links or pointers to information created and maintained by other public and private organizations. These links and pointers are provided for visitors' convenience. I do not control or guarantee the accuracy, relevance, timeliness, or completeness of any linked information. Further, the inclusion of links or pointers to other Web sites or agencies is not intended to assign importance to those sites and the information contained therein, nor is it intended to endorse, recommend, or favor any views expressed, or commercial products or services offered on these outside sites, or the organizations sponsoring the sites, by trade name, trademark, manufacture, or otherwise.

Reference in this Web site to any specific commercial products, processes, or services, or the use of any trade, firm or corporation name is for the information and convenience of the site's visitors, and does not constitute endorsement, recommendation, or favoring by this blog.

Poetry Friday: "Christmas Garden"

Christmas Garden

(For Randi Gray Christensen)

After months of guiding young brothers

abandoned to raw cries of the streets,

years of returning Garvey's name to the page,

a lifetime of worrying about my children,

I limp home to my neglected garden

in late December as the evening sun

settles on the forehead of broken

Madonnas nestled in red mulch.

Palm fronds break crisply between my fingers

smothering delicate orchids latched

on the side of the avocado that offered

shade in summer but not enough

for lavenders that withered in August heat.

Yet in a far corner, a poinsettia that I'd written

off in early March after caterpillars

had chewed green from the stems,

leaving stalks in the shadow of their wings

has bloomed near the dry fencepost:

the fire in its leaves as impossible

as the idea of our redemption.

***
Blog Disclosure Policy

Geoffrey Philp’s Blog Spot receives a percentage of the purchase price on anything you buy through links to Amazon, Shambala Books, Hay House, or any of the Google ads or Google Custom Search.

***

Disclaimer of Endorsement

The documents posted on this Web site may contain hypertext links or pointers to information created and maintained by other public and private organizations. These links and pointers are provided for visitors' convenience. I do not control or guarantee the accuracy, relevance, timeliness, or completeness of any linked information. Further, the inclusion of links or pointers to other Web sites or agencies is not intended to assign importance to those sites and the information contained therein, nor is it intended to endorse, recommend, or favor any views expressed, or commercial products or services offered on these outside sites, or the organizations sponsoring the sites, by trade name, trademark, manufacture, or otherwise.

Reference in this Web site to any specific commercial products, processes, or services, or the use of any trade, firm or corporation name is for the information and convenience of the site's visitors, and does not constitute endorsement, recommendation, or favoring by this blog.

Save a Dollar for The Christmas Dutch Pot Baby

As some of you may have noticed, I haven’t been posting as regularly as I used to. My daughter and I are working on a new ebook, The Christmas Dutch Pot Baby. We had had hoped to publish our ebook last week, but my daughter met in a car accident. She’s okay, but her car was totaled.

With the help of my son, who worked on Marcus and the Amazons, we hope to have it ready by this week Friday.

In the meantime, here’s the cover art and a summary of the plot:

On a cold Christmas Eve in Myrtle Grove, Joe and Myriam Lumley find a baby in a Dutch pot on their doorstep. Without hesitating, the Lumleys take the child, whom they name Eleanor, into their home. But little do they know, Attaberra, Queen of the Zemis, who has watched over the island since it rose out of the sea, has been watching their every move. The Queen has also made a prediction about the child. Will her prediction come true?

Stay tuned!

Blog Disclosure Policy

Geoffrey Philp’s Blog Spot receives a percentage of the purchase price on anything you buy through links to Amazon, Shambala Books, Hay House, or any of the Google ads or Google Custom Search.

***

Disclaimer of Endorsement

The documents posted on this Web site may contain hypertext links or pointers to information created and maintained by other public and private organizations. These links and pointers are provided for visitors' convenience. I do not control or guarantee the accuracy, relevance, timeliness, or completeness of any linked information. Further, the inclusion of links or pointers to other Web sites or agencies is not intended to assign importance to those sites and the information contained therein, nor is it intended to endorse, recommend, or favor any views expressed, or commercial products or services offered on these outside sites, or the organizations sponsoring the sites, by trade name, trademark, manufacture, or otherwise.

Reference in this Web site to any specific commercial products, processes, or services, or the use of any trade, firm or corporation name is for the information and convenience of the site's visitors, and does not constitute endorsement, recommendation, or favoring by this blog.

Merry Christmas!

Joseph’s Journey (For Randi Gray Kristensen)

Joseph had grown old enough not to believe
The occupiers of the holy places in Jerusalem 

Whose lies, curled like shavings of cedar
From his blade, surrounded him on the floor, 

Sweat for the few shekels that he earned,
Taxed by Romans whose peace defiled rivers 

With blood, mountains with their standards.
Yet as far east as the roads crowded with caravans 

Could travel, spears sprouted from the sand.
The coin from Mary's uncle burned in his palm, 

And Joseph turned it once more, perhaps, for an omen
That would ease his heart from the gossip in his town. 

But when she greeted his eyes and blessed his hands,
He lowered his head and surrendered to her love.

Image: http://homileticdiakonia.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-mass-at-midnight.html

***

Give thanks to Randi, who has made me restart my practice of writing a poem or story for Christmas. I've collected some of the best in Twelve Poems and A Story for Christmas.

Merry Christmas!

Have a Marcus Christmas & New Year

As the holiday season approaches, I want to give thanks to the readers of this blog on the RSS feed, web site or following on Twitter or Facebook. I also want to give thanks for those who have supported my work by buying my books and "Liking" on Amazon.  


A few of you have also sent direct PayPal donations through the Donate buttons, which I have posted at the end of popular blog posts, and for this I also give thanks.


Inshallah, I will begin some projects for the New Year, so I'm going on a blog vacation to work on the first drafts. If I receive any new information about contests or calls for papers, I'll post on Twitter: @geoffreyphilp


In the meantime, why not visit my author page @ amazon.com and buy a few books? They make great Christmas presents!


Have a great holiday and I promise that in 2012 that I'll continue posting about writers and events that you care about.

One Love,

Geoffrey

Marcus and the Amazons (Kindle)

Marcus and the Amazons (Print)


  

“Christmas Flash Mob” by Cynthia James

so they lit the third candle, the rose among the mauve,

a half-split caimito really, on the evergreen, the plum,

gradating to a fuschia, vulva-centred, fleshy white,

a moist black star buried in every quadrant whorl

but no witness to this story to fill its many gaps:

how a girl hearing voices that she pregnant

(second hand), just ups and take a journey

to a distant land to visit an old cousin by herself,

that a baby leaping in a womb confirm; they say

she end up staying with the cousin six months

and the cousin husband, old Mahal, you know Mahal,

revving car and turning corner, with lip and foot and hand;

he doubt; they light a candle on his head; strike him dumb;

and Shadrack, too, for years we live with Shadrack,

walking up and down with rope, brown gown and jesus-

sandals clanging bell, a dead ringer for the same John

so I’m telling Bev about this flash mob, livening the humdrum,

this Sunday stir up, twelve-eleven; people in their dan dan!

Everybody singing: Exultez de joie, acclamez votre roi!

led by a doe-eyed angry man playing an organ

and I say: We just practising to maim and kill tomorrow

the only way we know how. See those stalks clawing

the promised fire at the centre of the ash coal dawn?

See how right now we longing for the white stuff?

All this, One cycle, One répétition. Near Easter, we

cursing the same white stuff: White Stuff, Begone!

and my daughter ups and say: You know you! You’d better

keep your mouth shut! Your great grandmother shut her mouth

so you could born. You always jeopardizing things, opening

up your big mouth. But I tell her: No worries, this poem not

getting print no how. Is just you know how sometimes when

you’re breathing and you notice that you’re breathing, just so

you start to gasp because you cannot find your rhythm? Well

the half-split caimito’s just a figment of that Carib woman

far from home, dreaming a slice-a black cake, and a slice-a

Scrunter pork and a drink a ponche à crème! Ah! to top it off

© Cynthia James 2011

About Cynthia James

Cynthia James is a Trinidadian, living for the past 3 years in Toronto. She writes poetry and fiction and her work can be found in publications such as Callaloo, Caribbean Writer and The Oxford Book of Caribbean Verse

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas

***

Artist: Christina Philp

"Mary’s Prayer" by Geoffrey Philp

Madonna in Prayer by Sassoferrato, c1640-50 




Mary’s Prayer

Lord, help me to be a light today.

My tormentors taunted me until I cried.

Darkness covered my heart. It felt as if I had died

when they said nothing good was ever born from Nazareth’s clay,

sin would haunt the child because of my pride.

Lord, help me to be a light today.

But when I looked into His eyes, I found a way.

Something new was born, and I knew the elders had lied.

This is a love I can no longer hide:

Lord, help me to be a light today.

***

Another year of blogging has come to an end, so I am signing off until January 12, 2011.

Be careful, enjoy yourselves, and your loved ones.

 Merry Christmas & Happy New Year!

***

Image source: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/books/bookreviews/4699156/Mother-of-God-a-History-of-the-Virgin-Mary-by-Miri-Rubin-review.html

Give A Child A Book As A Gift This Christmas @ Jamaican Literature.Com

"Rather than go the typical route of toys and games, how about giving a child a book as a gift this Christmas? When choosing books for children, here are a few thoughts:

Will the child find the story and illustrations appealing?

What will he/she learn from the book?

Is it age appropriate?"

For more, please visit Jamaican Literature

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RAIN TAXI BENEFIT AUCTION!

RAIN TAXI BENEFIT AUCTION!

Our annual benefit auction allows you to support the nonprofit Rain Taxi and get cool stuff at the same time!

You'll find signed first editions, gorgeous broadsides, rare chapbooks, seminal graphic novels, quirky collectible books, handcrafted items, and more!  M.T. ANDERSON, Paul AUSTER, Geoff DYER, Brian EVENSON, Neil GAIMAN, William GIBSON, Richard HELL, Brenda HILLMAN, Susan HOWE, Lewis HYDE, Robert KIRKMAN, Gordon LISH, Alexander MCCALL SMITH, Eileen MYLES, Antonya NELSON, Ron PADGETT, Per PETTERSON, Raymond QUENEAU, Edward SANDERS, Jean VALENTINE, and William T. VOLLMANN are just some of the authors whose works you'll find.  For a full list of offerings, go to our online auction now!

http://shop.ebay.com/merchant/raintaxi

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Children's Books About Caribbean Christmases!

 Silver Foil Tree by Brian Wong Won (Trinidad)

Via: http://networkedblogs.com/bHhdd

I had promised to do this in the first place, but this one is for a Sophia, a reader who come to my blog looking for images of African-Caribbean Christmases. Well, here they are Sophia-- children's books about Christmas in the Caribbean just in time for the holiday season! I can't say that there is anything particularly 'Afro-Caribbean' about these books. Although most of the characters in these books are indeed Afro-Caribbean, it seems to me that their ways of celebrating Christmas are pretty standard across different ethnic and cultural groups in the countries in which the stories are set. I'm speaking from observation though. I have never studied or seriously contemplated variations in how Christmas is celebrated the Caribbean. I only know what I have experienced growing up in Trinidad. Culturally, there is a standard 'Trinbagonian' way of 'doing Christmas' that most Trinbagonians share and participate in. The variations that I have observed have been with respect to religious traditions. So Christians in Trinidad and Tobago will do certain things that Hindus and Muslims won't do, like going to midnight mass for example. Yet, this sparks a new interest in me in finding out if there are other Caribbean ways of celebrating Christmas that I don't know of. In the meantime however, here are some children's books about Christmas in the Caribbean!

For more, please follow this link: Children's Books About Caribbean Christmases!

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Searching for a Christmas Gift?

The Caribbean Writer – The Literary Gem of the Caribbean – is thrilled to introduce and launch 12 Months of Art and Poetry, our 2011 Calendar, a unique, one of its kind, beautifully designed monthly guide, each page a keepsake to be framed and treasured for years to come.

The 2011 Calendar is the first in a line of products that the journal, The Caribbean Writer, is launching to supports its efforts to promote good literature and ensure the future of a solid literary tradition in the Virgin Island as well as the greater Caribbean region. This calendar is an artistic integration of visual art and poetry, featuring the art of 13 local artists, Judith King, Ginger Anderson, Sana Hamed-Asad, LaVaughn Belle, Cynthia Hatfield, Elizabeth Keith, Alexis Lavine, Elisa McKay, Opal Palmer Adisa, Dolores Petachenko, Maud-Pierre-Charles, Robbin Robertson Polter, and Brenda Brown Taylor; and the poetry of  Opal Palmer Adisa, editor of TCW, other local poets, Edgar O. Lake and  Winifred “Oyoko” Loving, St. Thomians Elaine Warren Jacobs and Tregenza A. Roach, and other poets who have been published in the journal including, Michael Fraser, Ann-Margaret Lim, Nancy Anne Miller, Geoffrey Philp, Nadine Rogers, Berkley Wendell Semple, and Virgil Suarez.  Artists and poets donated their work to this new enterprise in lieu of copies for payment.

This exclusive calendar sells for the affordable price of $20.00 and each page is designed with the optimum goal of visual as well as literary stimulation.  In addition, the calendar lists the birth dates of some of the Caribbean most important poets, as well as all of the Virgin Islands holidays, independence dates of all the Caribbean islands, and other national holidays.

The calendar was funded through the generous donation of the Provost office at UVI and sponsorship from Plaza Extra and Marshall & Sterling.  This is a great holiday gift for children as well as adults, for lovers of arts and poetry, for those who appreciate beauty.  Regardless of whether you celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Al-Hijra, Ashura or none of the above or all of the above this is a great stockings stuffer, or gift for a teacher to say thank you for caring and helping your child to develop, or for a colleague whose affable smile makes your day goes easier, or as thanks to a medical provider for making you well, neighbor for being a good friend, postal worker for their efficiency and charming manner, gardener for helping to keep your home beautiful, grocer, your child for being good, your gym buddy who helps you to maintain your regiment, your mate for keeping the love alive, or for yourself for doing your best every day. 

The Caribbean Writer 12 Months of Art and Poetry Calendar will enhance your home and office and add aesthetic grace to any wall.

Single copies are $20.00, 3 copies are bargained at $50.00 and 6 copies are additionally bargained at $100.00 

Copies are available by emailing orders@thecaribbeanwriter.org.

***

New Book: The Journey to Le Repentir by Mark McWatt

UNIVERSE

This is my song of the universe, of the past
that is now and the future that is never, but
mostly about a place and a mind inter-
penetrated through a membrane of wonder,
a dark fistula of dream through which flows,
back and forth, a boy and the palpable matter
of his first and widest world… Think of a garden
invaded by a black creek, its flowering orchids,
grown in coconut husks, floated off the trunk
the grapefruit tree and trundled down to the river,
to bob among the palm seeds and the driftwood
and the anxious ripples of the tacouba, half-
submerged in the eye of the frantic bow-man,
dancing with his big paddle and signalling
the steersman to keep hard right. And that night,
in the flooded garden at the tide of the full moon
the blue bunderie crabs march like a helpless army
into quakes and baskets, into steaming pots,
into the widening eyes of children, as sleepless
as Christmas eve. It is the North West district
of Guyana (before there was ‘region one’);
it was the 1950s (before ‘massa day’ done).
It was that hill of red earth, those misty mornings
of wet grass and Wellington boots, those rivers,
creeks, stellings, that dark Rubber Walk… that
wrapped themselves around my hopeless heart
and, to this day, have not let go…
So the first part
of my poem’s life tells of that universe, of memories
of its magic, in the compound at Mabaruma, in
the schoolhouse, where teacher Stephanie’s chalk
drawings on blackboards never to be erased
helped define for me the life of books, of competitive
learning, of the sensuous adventure of knowledge
that has never let me go; the only school before
university where I sat in the same classroom with girls
and loved them, and longed for them and got my mouth
washed out with soap because the nuns told my parents
the unspeakable things I said I would like to do
with Cecilia Joseph, with Olinda Santiago…

But I always knew that world did not begin
with me: I was told that red hill contained bones
older than our dreams, and later, when I had read
my universe into a different context and could see
its links to other worlds, I dreamt for it my own
moment of genesis, when a vessel from another
adventure sailed into the Barima in rainy season…

***

About MarK McWatt

This is an immensely ambitious collection of poems, the fruit of more than a dozen years’ work since the publication of Mark McWatt’s Guyana prize-winning collection, The Language of Eldorado in 1994 (his first collection Interiors won the Commonwealth Poetry prize in 1989). Strands of autobiography, a deeply sensuous ecology of place, historical narratives; the inner world of imagination and the often difficult realities of the postcolonial nation are interwoven in the collection’s bold but carefully worked out architecture.

The four parts of the book represent at one level linear phases of a life: childhood; adolescence and young manhood; maturity and the first intimations of ageing. Within each section there is an intersecting narrative sequence that sometimes complements, sometimes expands and sometimes run counter to the ‘personal’ narratives.

In Mercator, poems in the voice of a nameless Elizabethan sea captain searching for Eldorado intertwine with semi-autobiographical poems about a boy’s discovery of self and world in the remote northwest district of Guyana. In The Dark Constellation, poems about love and awakening sexuality are connected to a series of poems about Guyana’s vast and powerful rivers. The Museum of Love features a wholly imaginative narrative about the restless spirit of a young black boy, murdered by a plantation manager, who inhabits a sculpture in a museum and with his ragamuffin followers wreaks havoc on the works of art during the night. This is intercut with a sequence of poems on the theme of independence in life and politics, poems that reflect on the contrary impulses of creation and destruction. The final section Le Repentir (which is the name of the main cemetery in Georgetown), explores a historical (and true) story of an accidental fratricide and the themes of guilt and expiation. This narrative connects to poems about mid-life and thoughts about old age and death.

***

Source: Peepal Tree Books