The following is a list of new books published by In Our Words. There are a number of other new titles in the pipeline for 2012. More details coming soon!
COMING SOON!
I Know About Me…
Love, Life and Intimacy
J. Nichole Noël
ISBN: 978-1-926926-18-6
Genre: Poetry
Retail Price: $15
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NEW!
A Sea of Pink Blossoms
and other true stories in verse
Trevor Trower
ISBN: 978-1-926926-17-9
Genre: Poetry
Retail Price: $19.95
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NEW!
A Journey to Haiku
James R. Quinn
ISBN: 978-1-926926-16-2
Genre: Poetry
Retail Price: $12
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NEW!
Where are Meadow’s Manners?
Peta-Gaye Nash
ISBN: 978-1-926926-15-5
Genre: Poetry
Retail Price: $12
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NEW!
Liam and the Lizard
Peta-Gaye Nash
ISBN: 978-1-926926-14-8
Genre: Poetry
Retail Price: $12
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NEW!
Prayer
James R. Quinn
ISBN: 978-1-926926-13-1
Genre: Poetry
Retail Price: $12
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NEW!
Don’t Take Raja to School
based on the true story of Jade and Raja
Peta-Gaye Nash
ISBN: 978-1-926926-12-4
Genre: Poetry
Retail Price: $12
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NEW!
Pressure to Sing
poems
Brandon Pitts
ISBN: 978-1-926926-11-7
Genre: Poetry
Retail Price: $17.95
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NEW!
Songs of Praise based on the Bhagvad Gita
Saroj Daulat Ram
ISBN: 978-1-926926-10-0
Genre: Poetry
Retail Price: $17.95
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NEW!
A Tribute to Gandhiji
in verse
Saroj Daulat Ram
ISBN: 978-1-926926-09-4
Genre: Poetry
Retail Price: $17.95
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The soil splits and sprouts emerge.
Parched land offers little hope
To tiny tentacles of life
Thrusting towards the sky
To pull down clouds to empty tears
On to thirsting roots.
The spirit endures through tribulation
More resilient than would seem
Rekindling hope
In there lies survival
Life sprouts anew.
The hacking of axes
Sound a death knell for the fallen
Stumped prospect.
In the spring green shoots appear
Pushing past bruised bark
Broken branches
Life – hope – sprouts anew.
Nature struggles to survive
Instinctively
As does the spirit –
Bruised but unbroken.
That is not me
Clenched fists pound the air
The rage of the mob penetrates the TV screen
Spilling hatred, vitriol
Into our family room
Making us uneasy.
Bearded, turbaned men
Surge through the streets I once walked on.
Claiming to speak for a nation
I once belonged to.
I look at the madness in the eyes and think:
That is not me.
Rarely a woman in sight –
The few shrouded in black burqas.
That too is not me.
Ingrate! You once thrived on this land
It was different then.
Things have changed, I have changed.
That is not who I am.
Look at the face of Canada? Is that you?
I see freedom. I see diversity.
That is enough for me.
Yes! That is me!
I am home.
World of waste
Islands of plastic refuse
Floating in the Pacific
Disturbing image that will not go away
Is it too late?
The grace of a lone canoe
As a scavenger looks for treasure
In this sea of debris
Recycling overwhelmed.
Gentle mounds of green
Undulating as far as the eye can see
A park? A golf course? No.
Graves of trash, cemetery of human waste.
A halo of pollution crowns Mother Earth
Slow strangulation of all living things we know
Holes in the Ozone let in deadly UVAs
We learn new words to describe our new reality.
As we look out into the universe
Seeking new worlds to populate
What must the God of that universe
Think of our ambition?
Look with kind eyes
When I stand up for what I believe
rock the boat against the tide
will you applaud
even if you disagree
even if you fear that
I’m not quite mainstream?
Will you still look upon me with kind eyes?
When I pour my heart
and soul into my creation
shade it with exotic colours
and hold it up with pride
and place it next to your creations
can you look at it with an open mind
and see the beauty in the difference?
Can you look upon it with kind eyes?
When I step out of the margins
and venture along the paths
that you walk so confidently
will you make way for me
or pretend you don’t see me
will you watch passively
while I’m denigrated to the sidelines?
Will you – can you – look at me with kind eyes?
girl
she walks along the back roads of life
treading timidly
giving way to all others
mistress of nothing
no claim to land or name
her identity drawn and overshadowed
by every male in her life
daughter of her father
wife of her husband
mother of her son
she walks along the back roads of life
invisible
her footsteps make no sound
on the concrete tracts of ideology
and leave no imprint
in the shifting sands of time.
Her greatest enemy
She looks into the mirror
And sees her greatest enemy
The haunted eyes of a victim
The resignation of the hopeless
Then she pulls up her veil
To cover all but those defeated eyes
And goes on as before
Walking in life’s shadows
In his shadow
Eyes to the ground lest her gaze
Be mistaken for brazen
Shrouding her femininity
Lest it incite male passions
Living behind screens and walls
Of prisons she calls home.
Taking her prison with her
A sweltering portable hell
Of burqas, hijabs, veils.
Liberation could come
If there is the will to fight for it.
Equality will come
If the inequality is acknowledged.
Justice would come
If the injustice is shunned.
She looks into the mirror
And sees her greatest enemy.
Price below includes S&H and taxes if applicable
Beyond the Edge: stories
Perparim Kapllani
ISBN: 978-1-926926-04-9
$19.95 (USA & Canada)
Beyond The Edge - Excerpts
Home
Geraldina saw a human form outlined against the bright light as though someone was entering through a doorway. The figure came closer and a look of recognition came with a smile to Geraldina’s face.
“I knew you would come,” she said.“I knew you would not leave me.”
—excerpt from story ‘Beyond the Edge’
“That is why you went away, isn’t it,” he said gruffly. “You confounded fool. Tell me, Agron, King of Nincompoops, did you run away like a yellow-bellied missish girl because of this?”
With that he holds up his mangled left hand in my face. My eyes fixed on his hand and saw clearly what I had imagined so many times in my mind, the strong hand, with the two fingers, the ring finger and the middle finger missing, the flesh mottled and badly set over the gap. I cannot speak. I did not have to. He saw the pain, the torture, the living dread in my eyes that I did not bother to conceal.
—excerpt from story ‘The Gypsy King’
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I too Hear the Drums: stories
Peta-Gaye Nash
ISBN: 978-0-9809932-9-5
Category: short fiction
$19.95 (USA & Canada)
I too Hear the drums: An excerpt
I head to the Caribbean Student Association where I am told that I cannot join. It’s a club for West Indians, I am told.
“I’m from Jamaica,” I insist.
“Prove it,” he says. “Can you hear the drums?”
I am taken aback. I feel slapped in the face.
“Were you born in Jamaica?” I ask.
“No, but I can hear the drums.”
“I can hear the drums,” I say, “but I don’t need to wear my culture on my t-shirt. It’s in my blood. Screw your association.”
When I walk away, I think, what f***ing drums? He wasn’t in Jamaica for the brain drain, the political riots, the empty supermarket shelves, the senseless murders where we all knew people who died. He was in rich North America learning how to be Jamaican second-hand.
—from ‘I too hear the drums’ by Peta-Gaye Nash
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Giving in to Gravity: Poems
Elizabeth Barnes
ISBN: 978-1-926926-01-8
$17.95 (USA & Canada)
80 pp
Giving in to Gravity: An excerpt
I finger pebbles worn by generations of water: rosy quartz, rounded granite perfect as tiny birds’ eggs, dark green algaed pebbles, irregular white globs brushed with iron-oxide… Someday, someone may fetch me up with young fingers full of curiosity, turn me between finger and thumb and bring me back to life, or send me skipping over water’s skin to the rim of the world and beyond.
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