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Poet
Celia A Sorhaindo
B. 1968
Celia A Sorhaindo is a poet from the Caribbean island of Dominica, where she now resides after living many years in the UK. Her poetry has been widely published in journals ranging from The Caribbean Writer to New Daughters of Africa, and longlisted for the UK National Poetry Competition (2017/18). Her first pamphlet, ‘Guabancex’ (Papillote Press, 2020) was longlisted for the 2021 OCM Bocas Prize for Caribbean literature, and her poem ‘Weather Conditions’ was among the winners of Poetry Archive’s WordView 2020 Collection. Her first full length poetry collection, ‘Radical Normalisation’, is due to be published in the autumn of 2022 (Carcanet Press).
Poem
by Celia A Sorhaindo
Day break, and fog brain searchlights for reasons not to wake up just yet; stay well asleep; head under cover a little longer. I find no good excuses. Today, my big brother arrives from England and I’m due to pick…
Poem
Sometimes the only babies us women (sub)consciously choose to birth are our words. Always a late developer, mine scratched on pregnant pause— then forced their way out of tight lips. Wayward, untidy, they crawled naked into the…
Poem
some pyrite worms gobbled long ago stayed lodged in our throats. irritated. we tried honey. we hacked. we swallowed hard. it took a stab in the black for us to gob it all out. look. listen. amber chunks dredged up…
Poem
After the hurricane, my grandmother, in her basement storeroom, hunkered down, knelt her knees raw with prayer the whole long long lashing tail of night, then ascended slippery stairs hoping by holy intervention her home had been saved. She stared…
Poem
When they start to shout at us after saying come talk, trust us this is a safe space, tell us this is for our own damn good little girls little boys but our guts tell us this feels bad kicks…
Poem
Mr Elias John-Baptiste says they sent a biblical hurricane so he could know God. Says God’s eye stayed above his house. Stared him out for 8 hours just to make sure he was the right one. And he was. Says…
Poem
Each day I try to be less scared of where love will lead— what it will ask of me— fearing it will be misunderstood— fearing my tight hold onto love’s hand will be loosened… by the…