Derek Walcott News, Pictures & Buzz

Two Jamaican scholars honoured with Bocas Henry Swanzy Award  Jamaica Observer

The UK strain: How the Irish in Leeds coped with Covid  The Irish Times

WATCH NOW: A Golden legacy  Martinsville Bulletin

Ode to Denis Dabreo - St. Lucia News From The Voice  The Voice St. Lucia

John Patrick McHugh: ‘My advice to aspiring writers with dyslexia is just go for it’  Independent.ie

Calabash 'For Word' into 2022 - Renowned biennial festival pushed to new year amid pandemic  Jamaica Gleaner

Derek Walcott, 1930-2017  Royal Gazette

Calabash makes 'difficult but necessary decision' - Festival postponed until May 2022  Jamaica Gleaner

Moving Forward As A 'Whole People' - St. Lucia News From The Voice  The Voice St. Lucia

New Books | How West Indians made Britain home  newframe.com

Five Poets That Yusef Komunyakaa Returns to Again and Again  The New York Times

25 Great Book Reviews From the Past 125 Years  The New York Times

Wales Bonner Fall 2021 Menswear Collection  Vogue.com

Wales Bonner Men's Fall 2021 – WWD  WWD

Celebrating Sir Arthur Lewis and Sir Derek Walcott - St. Lucia News From The Voice  The Voice St. Lucia

Celebrating Nobel Laureates Sir Arthur Lewis and Sir Derek Walcott - St. Lucia News From The Voice  The Voice St. Lucia

Phase 1 of Derek Walcott Square enhancement project now complete  Loop News St. Lucia

Teresita Fernández’s Powerful Art Lays Bare Ongoing Histories of Colonial Violence in the Caribbean  ARTnews

The Great Books -- Episode 158: 'Omeros' by Derek Walcott  National Review

Festival of lights celebrations scaled down due to COVID-19  Loop News St. Lucia

elizabethbristl: RT @poetry4theppl: "The imaginati# wants its limits and delights in its limits. It finds its freedom in the definiti# of those limits."…

CPCollister: RT @poetry4theppl: "The imaginati!**% wants its limits and delights in its limits. It finds its freedom in the definiti!**% of those limits."…

hhgsparkles: RT @crossmansusanna: You can read the sec^#%d virtual dinner party #TDPR: Authors with amazing writers @HalehAgar, @mrsjaneymac @IrenosenOk…

poetry4theppl: "The imaginati%& wants its limits and delights in its limits. It finds its freedom in the definiti%& of those limits." -Derek Walcott

AnnieDhal: @halfmo@*poem Mine’s Love after Love by Derek Walcott! https://t.co/psLU0TOosD

A poem by Derek Walcott. What does it mean? Are there any significant literary devices used? I need simply a line by line analysis of the poem. Thanks Clarification of the theme of the poem would be fantastic too

Christ have mercy on all sleeping things! From that dog rotting down Wrightson Road to when I was a dog on these streets; if loving these islands must be my load, out of corruption my soul takes wings, But they had started to poison my soul with their big house, big car, big-time bohbohl, coolie, ******, Syrian, and French Creole, so I leave it for them and their carnival -- I taking a sea-bath, I gone down the road. I know these islands from Monos to Nassau, a rusty head sailor with sea-green eyes that they nickname Shabine, the patois for any red ******, and I, Shabine, saw when these slums of empire was paradise. I'm just a red ****** who love the sea, I had a sound colonial education, I have Dutch, ******, and English in me, and either I'm nobody, or I'm a nation. 1. What is your initial impression of the poem? 2. What do you think the poem is about? 3. what is the tone of the poem? 4. Choose one line from the poem that you liked and explain why?

I once gave my daughters, separately, two conch shells that were dived from the reef, or sold on the beach, I forget. They use them as doorstops or bookends, but their wet pink palates are the soundless singing of angels. I once wrote a poem called “The Yellow Cemetery,” when I was nineteen. Lizzie’s age. I’m fifty-three. These poems I heaved aren’t linked to any tradition like a mossed cairn; each goes down like a stone to the seabed, settling, but let them, with luck, lie where stones are deep, in the sea’s memory. Let them be, in water, as my father, who did watercolors, entered his work. He became one of his shadows, wavering and faint in the midsummer sunlight. His name was Warwick Walcott. I sometimes believe that his father, in love or bitter benediction, named him for Warwickshire. Ironies are moving. Now when I rewrite a line, or sketch on the fast-drying paper the coconut fronds that he did so faintly, my daughters’ hands move in mine. Conches move over the sea floor. I used to move my father’s grave from the blackened Anglican headstones in Castries to where I could love both at once— the sea and his absence. Youth is stronger than fiction.

I just need to know which of his writings caused him to get the award :)

There are so many islands! As many islands as the stars at night on that branched tree from which meteors are shaken like falling fruit around the schooner Flight. But things must fall,and so it always was, on one hand Venus,on the other Mars; fall,and are one,just as this earth is one island in archipelagoes of stars. My first friend was the sea.Now,is my last. I stop talking now.I work,then I read, cotching under a lantern hooked to the mast. I try to forget what happiness was, and when that don't work,I study the stars. Sometimes is just me,and the soft-scissored foam as the deck turn white and the moon open a cloud like a door,and the light over me is a road in white moonlight taking me home. Shabine sang to you from the depths of the sea.