HAUNTING SEPTEMBER

by Jerrice J. Baptiste

Photo: Kevin Bubriski, World Trade Center Series, New York City, 2001, gelatin silver print, Smithsonian American Art Museum, Gift of the Consolidated Natural Gas Company Foundation, 2003.65.1, © 2001, Kevin Bubriski

                  ~for Nolbert

 

Your sanctuary hasn't been touched

in over twenty years.
Hair intertwined with bristles
resting on the bathroom windowsill

next to the porcupine plant.
The shower still smells of Irish

Spring soap bathing your body.

 

You thought you would be late to protect

two sky scrapers.
Blue striped sheets pushed aside

on your futon fitted your body each night. 

That September

morning, running late you grabbed

 

a pair of un-matching socks. 

One grey sock hid from you under your bed. 

You looked confident

in your grey uniform,

deep pockets for hiding notes,

ready to stop crime in the towers.

Today, I peek outside the oval bedroom window
seeing the view of early Autumn that you had

that last morning. Leaves beginning to change

colors, red, yellow, violet, hugging branches

before they fell in the yard. 

Jerrice J. Baptiste is a poet, educator and facilitator of poetry for healing and self-expression. Her new book of prose poems is titled Coral in the Diaspora published by Abode Press (August 2024).  Her writing has been published and is forthcoming in The New Verse News, Artemis Journal, Urthona Buddhism and Art Magazine, The Dewdrop, Shambhala Times, The Yale Review, Wax Poetry & Art, Black Fox Literary Magazine, Mantis, Penumbra Literary & Art Journal, The Banyan Review, Kosmos Journal, Silver Birch Press, and many others. Her collaborative songwriting and poetry are featured on the Grammy-nominated album Many Hands Family Music for Haïti. 

WHEN WE CELEBRATE IN THE DIASPORA

by Jerrice J. Baptiste

PORT-AU-PRINCE, 13 August 2024 – At least 131 children, including babies, have been reported killed or injured in Haiti during violent attacks against their neighbourhoods or clashes between armed groups and the police so far in 2024, Save the Children said. According to an analysis of UN verified data, an average of five children a week in the first six months of 2024, have been killed or injured by armed violence in Haiti. However, the true number of child casualties is likely to be much higher.  —Save the Children

Our hearts flood in joy like turtles
in shells in the sea. We're flying high
but then, your real story flashes.

No fireflies in belly of your darkness.
We're scared. Your sacred beauty will
remain hidden in mountain peaks

our feet will never climb. Our tears
are quite predictable, they swell
like your turquoise sea. Salt on 

cheeks. We mourn each day we can't 
bask in your rising sun, sit in shade
of your palm trees. Stroll like lovers.

We don't have answers to questions.
"What's going on in your country?"
"What will it take to change Ayiti?"

Sleepless, on the eve of speaking about you.
I looked in a mirror, brushed my coarse gray hair.
Raised my chin. Smiled with full red lips for hope.

Jerrice J. Baptiste is a poet born in Haiti, the author of eight books including her new book of poetry Coral in The Diaspora (Abode Press, August 2024).  Her poetry has been published and forthcoming in The New Verse News, Impspired, Urthona: Buddhism & Art, Pensive: A Global Journal of Spirituality & The Arts, Artemis Journal, The Yale Review, Mantis, The Dewdrop. Poetica Review, The Banyan Review, Kosmos Journal, The Caribbean Writer, West Trestle Review among others. Jerrice was nominated for a Pushcart Prize for 2024 by Jerry Jazz Musician and as Best of the Net for 2022 by Blue Stem. She facilitates poetry workshops in New York where she lives.

WE, THE DIASPORA

by Jerrice J. Baptiste

Haitian policemen stand guard on a street corner amid gang violence in Port-au-Prince on April 8,2024.

Last week, my colleagues and I facilitated healing circles for Haitians, both on the island and in the diaspora. In this virtual gathering, known as the Sawubona Healing Circle, we bore witness to the fullness and depth of our pain across different geographical locations. We held space for the fear experienced by those trapped in Port-au-Prince amidst paramilitary violence. We acknowledged the hurt felt by innocent people yearning for communal safety. We understood the confusion among a diaspora who craved to support their people but felt wholly inadequate to meet the urgency of their needs. —Evan Auguste, The Haitian Times, April 2, 2024

Haitian leaders have finalized a deal for a temporary government to steer their Caribbean nation out of gang-fueled chaos, but the details must first be approved by the outgoing authorities, Agence France Presse confirmed Monday. —VoA, April 8, 2024

We, the diaspora know
our lives to be bleak without heat of circular suns.
We, the diaspora know
our hands to be bare not plucking velvet red cherries. 
We, the diaspora know 
consequences of our silence will cause you to bleed.

Can we the diaspora pledge to
merge our voices eclipsed by a stubborn early moon?

Can we the diaspora pledge to 
baptize babies dressed in white holy silk by dusk?
Can we the diaspora pledge to
grow consciousness as yellow corn in indigo nights?

Jerrice J. Baptiste is a poet born in Haiti, the author of eight books, and a forthcoming book of poetry called Coral in The Diaspora (Abode Press, August 2024).  Her poetry has been published and forthcoming in The New Verse News, Impspired, Urthona: Buddhism & Art, Pensive: A Global Journal of Spirituality & The Arts, Artemis Journal, The Yale Review, Mantis, The Dewdrop. Poetica Review, The Banyan Review, Kosmos Journal, The Caribbean Writer, West Trestle Review among others. Jerrice was nominated for a Pushcart Prize for 2024 by Jerry Jazz Musician and as Best of the Net for 2022 by Blue Stem. She facilitates poetry workshops in New York where she lives.