All posts by Opal Palmer Adisa

Opal Palmer Adisa is an exceptional writer/theatre director/photographer/gender advocate, nurtured on cane-sap and the oceanic breeze of Jamaica. Writer of poetry and professor, educator and cultural activist, Adisa has lectured and read her work throughout the United States, South Africa, Ghana, Nigeria, Germany, England and Prague, and has performed in Italy and Bosnia. An award-winning poet and prose writer Adisa has twenty four titles to her credit. Most recents are: Pretty Like Jamaica; The Storyteller's Return; Portia Dreams and 100 + Voices for Miss Lou. Other titles include the novel, It Begins With Tears (1997), which Rick Ayers proclaimed as one of the most motivational works for young adults. Love's Promise; 4-Headed Woman; Look a Moko Jumbie; Dance Quadrille and Play Quelbe; Painting Away Regrets; Until Judgement Comes;

Daily Musings

Know the Difference

August 27, 2015 Opal Palmer Adisa Leave a comment

an optimist knows

that beyond appearance there

is often always another reality

and that speaking one’s word

is power

and powerful enough to change

the present circumstance

which is different from an

idealist who dreams and hope

while sitting still

or a so called realist

who believes everything

he sees is the only perspective

you can sit on the road

hoping to get a ride

you can stand and look either way

and say no one is coming

or you can begin to walk

thinking if someone comes by

you will get a ride

otherwise you feet are very

capable

Daily Musings

Pick Up Yourself

August 26, 2015 Opal Palmer Adisa Leave a comment

there you are

living your life

doing what you know

afraid to answer

the knocking you hear

thinking to yourself

i’m okay

look at the beauty

that encloses me

what more could i want

but the knocking continues

who is that knocking

you whisper

what do they want

then slowly

you acknowledge

the knocking is

coming from inside

your shoes are by the door

do you put them on and walk out

or do you just run out the

back door and why

you life has been safe

you’ve been playing by the books

let someone else start the revolution

let someone else plant the white flag

but you know

you can’t stay here forever

you cannot wear the world’s beauty

like a shawl

you have to get lost in the woods

get chased by wolves

running arms and legs scratched

by branches/vines

you are free now

almost

free to order

new shoes…

Daily Musings

Mundane

August 21, 2015 Opal Palmer Adisa Leave a comment

to whom does it matter

if i look out my window and

the sheet pink reflection

perched against the mountain range

causes my heart to smile

and joy to cover me as snugly

as my skin

whose business is it really

that last night at dinner

i had pizza

crust so thin it flaked

personal size

so large

i will enjoy

two other meals

when did everything

we do become so importanat

to document

to share

to broadcast

look at me

see me

participate in my life

how do all these small

insignificant things

feed the world

help me to write the stories

of haitians

for whom every space matters

for whom each day is a gift

despite the struggles

who have yet to get

their deserved justice

what is the line

of demarcation

between what matters

and the mundane

Daily Musings, Visioning/Future Plans

The Options of a Tree

August 18, 2015 Opal Palmer Adisa Leave a comment

If a tree were given the choice to be whatever it could be

would it choose treedom or would it choose to be a wealth man who travels the world first class and regails everyone with his tales

Maybe the tree would choose to be a bird

that makes its way south during the winter

flapping its wings against the cold wind

its eyes seeking a resting place

upon which to land

Perhaps the tree would decide

on something more practical and less visible

maybe it would opt to be a speck of dirt

ignored and trampled on

I wonder if it would choose

to be a Black Woman

whose place in the world

is at best dubious

but who is also

enormously creative and adventerous

if I could choose to be whatever

would I choose the self that I know

or would I think it more advantegeous

to be transformed into another

Perhaps

Maybe

Possibilities exist

but I like the me that I am

so I would come back as myself

with a luxury cruise ship of wealth

Daily Musings

Walking the Path

August 18, 2015 Opal Palmer Adisa Leave a comment

Down this path that leads to where i cannot see nor know

I follow the trail.

Here is where i am and where i want to be

wrapped tightly in the firm arms of my work

like any woman who knows the man she loves will be leaving soon

and wants to fully inhale his smell and imprint the feel of his arms around her

after he has long gone.

i’m ensconced

and that a world beyond the work exists

is a distant thought

almost unfathomable

the world is the work

and nothing else matters

nothing beyond the word

is real

not even these houses on the other side of the valley

nothing but the words

breathing the breath

of life

breathing me…

as I rewind my way back from whence

I came

to the work

the work to calls to me

Daily Musings

What Am I Doing Here

August 18, 2015 Opal Palmer Adisa Leave a comment

Last night the thunder clapped

the rain sneezed

the cold flail its hands

the wild animals in the forest coughed

and I closed the window and pulled the covers to my neck.

This morning the fog lounged and sauntered over the mountain range elegantly as a bride’s laced veil.

I could hear the patter of my heart. I could hear the earth’s chatter.

I knew the smell of morning and the call of life.

My eyes searched for something more tangible, a green sweetness, contained as the dates I suck each morning.

Moving further, I stopped to observe old tools carefully collected and arranged — an installation — the aesthetic functionality of discarded implements.

I am committed to this time.

I am consumed by this project.

I am covetous for the right words.

I pause and stare seeking to reveal

what I need to know…what I already know.

Heading to breakfast, a worm drying in the fleeting sun solicits my gaze

I remember as a child digging for worms in my mother’s garden.

As a woman planting my own garden, I would hold the worms gently between middle finger and thumb and place then strategically back into the earth.

Preparing to fish, I would observe the worm’s body as the hook entered its translucent skin. Do fish really like worms? What do they taste like? Perhaps another time I might fry some.

I walk the path, moving up and down, seeking the right angle to aim my camera. What did I do before these other lenses? Do I trust my eyes and my memory to see and record?

Like a starved child, I follow the fog, feeling a hand slip softly into my blouse — the memory of desire and attraction.

Murder and loss could happen here, unrecorded. How many and for how long? Who is counting? Who is missing?

But this is not a land where mayhem happens. This is a place of creation and reflection

Here in the mountain, gripped with cypresses and olive trees, where howling and baying rebound like a ball tide to a pole being banged by a bat in the hands of a bored boy, there is only possibility on possibilities, a scent of trespass, a longing for surprised discovery.

The mountain heaves. The fog prances and the heart locates its wings.

Around the bend I am reminded of the surprised birthday party, more than 30 years ago, that Pamela hosted for me.

The red reminds me of the deep desire I had for a man I knew was a philanderer but his skin was chocolate. I was not yet twenty-one, already married and had left my husband.

Red is not the color of desire. Red is lust better left untouched — not consumed. Red is the way into tomorrow.

Daily Musings

The 3rd of 4 Birthdays – Ms Teju’s Day

August 16, 2015 Opal Palmer Adisa Leave a comment

They say you resemble me.

Years ago in Jamaica

when you were still an infant

a great aunt upon seeing you

for the first time

declared:

But is little Opal same face on this one.

Dem cut from de same cloth!

Are we cut from the same cloth?

How are we alike?

How do we differ?

Today, 24 years after you were born

I reflect on carrying your for nine months,

trying to bring up what stands out during that pregnancy.

I remember your birth clearly, especially when your brother and sister and grandpa and grandmother

came and saw you in the hospital the next day. I remember how you clung to me, and I wondered if

you would ever detach yourself.

I remember being frantic, doing the edits on my dissertation while I breast-fed you.

I remember thinking how incredible enormous is the human capacity to love and to protect because I love you with every ounce of blood in my body, and I didn’t think this would have been possible with two other children.

I remember long after you had your own room, every night I would wake and find that you had again crawled into my bed, your arms and legs flung over me.

I knew you would be the last child I would bear, and I was willing to give you the world, and still am prepared to do so.

Girl child of my womb

daring, ferocious, womanist

you’ve always loved the world

and wanted the best for it

in that regard we are similar.

Not afraid to try and fail and try and accomplish

Not afraid to demand your full share and more

Not afraid to go where others have not gone

You take risks

Your allow yourself to be stretched

Your love is a square knot

You will neither betray nor abandon friends

You are my daughter

and your birth is also my birth

another realization of self

another opportunity to teach and learn

to dance at life’s many miracles

and say thank you

for bringing you into my life

thank you for showing me

what is possible in those we love

But mostly thanks you for the enduring love and connection; thank you for what is yet to come.

Daily Musings

Recognizing The Ones Who Will Make a Difference

August 15, 2015 Opal Palmer Adisa Leave a comment

The plain truth is that not every child is the future even when they are loved and protected and live in an environment that has resources to provide them with a good education and opportunities.

The sad truth is that this is not the reality for the majority of the children of the world who lack basic needs such as running water and electricity, who have no access to medical or dental care, who have a slim hold and outlet for educational advancement, whose parents, despite their hard and industrious efforts, can barely eek out a living.

The wonderful truth is that despite all these odds there are numerous children all over the world determined and imbued with self-confidence that defies the odds.

What distinguishes these children?

From where do they harvest their zeal?

What allows them to continue, forever scaling hurdles, sprinting around ditches, moving resolutely towards being more than.

If I had the answer, then I would sell and bequeath it to all children.

If the answer was simple and apparent, it could be replicated and when we say children are the future we would know that means all children.

If it were that the ones who make it were only those loved and cared for we could see that is where the work begins.

But transcending one’s lot to rise above the others is in some ways mysterious– enigmatic.

Yet, luckily some children just have what it takes, it is in their eyes, the way they hold their heads, the gait of their walk, the clarity of their eyes, the assurance of their smiles.

I know these children. I see them everywhere and I saw them in Kisii, Kenya, among their peers and family, on the roads, and at schools.

Even among all the rest vying for the camera, peering out curiously at me, these faces, their eyes, their spirits foretold: watch me, pay attention, I will not be deterred, I will not be turned back, I will be the one!

I am the one you have been waiting for and I will help to turn the tide of opportunity for others.

Daily Musings

The Value of a Residency

August 14, 2015 Opal Palmer Adisa 1 Comment

I have arrived in Assisi, this picturesque town, framed against the blue-green verdant mountains, where I will reside for the next three weeks.

The house where I am housed is up a gravel road, far away from any other houses and quite a trek to arrive here on foot. Luckily, I was picked up by car.

I am told there are wolves, foxes, wild pigs, and in the rooms at night the bees are as big as the width and length of my middle and index fingers combine.

I am told neither the bees nor the wild animals are harmful, but when I was going for a walk this morning was given a stick and told to always have one handy just in case I encounter any such animals. I only spotted a deer, but woke to the sounds of unfamiliar animals.

I was also told there were no snakes, but on the way back from my walk, I saw a dead snake in the road, a foot long. No poisonous snakes here either.

The land is welcoming. The silencing is encompassing.

It is hot and hot and hot, and I love the heat as a Caribbean woman, but it is hot.

A church, somewhere in the two rings its bell at noon and six pm. Otherwise time means nothing to me. The day is irrelevant. I am present to what is here and here there is much.

The mountain range, which is like a wall, demands my attention, my homage, and it comforts me as the Blue Mountains of Jamaica, my homeland. When I sit here on this balcony it is before me.

This is the desk in the room upon which I am writing and upon which I will write for the next three weeks.

Already it says sit down. Attend to your task. There is nothing here to distract you. I embrace your words and ideas and will provide the clarity you need to string them into a pattern that piques the senses and assures the heart that there are endless tomorrows awaiting you…

When I glance out the window I see beauty. I inhale the peace and privilege that this place provides.

This is the moth that perched itself on the wall last night behind my bed and refused to leave, bidding me to sleep well and be comforted by its orange wings that nurture dreams.

I am happy and grateful to be here. I will write here and accomplish my goals.

I have brought Haiti here, its stories and its people to help make sense and show its resilience.

I am quenched here, and did not realize until I arrived that I was thirst.

I have already engaged in dialogue here with the other artists and found affinity.

I write knowing that writing is my job, this is what feeds my soul, and this is what I was born to do.

A residency provides an artist with the space and place she needs to create and be free and brilliant in that creation…affirming the legacy will continue.

Daily Musings

The Rift Valley

August 4, 2015 Opal Palmer Adisa Leave a comment

I wanted to see The Great Rift Valley, which I had hoped, despite the winter and the heavy blanket of fog that draped the environment as we departed Nairobi, would be visible.

As we drove further I was doubtful, but slowly the fog drifted, and we were there, seeing behind and below the fog. All along the way the people were draped in the colorful, now factory manufactured Massi blanket to keep warn. Inside the car, we had on socks and sweater, and I had a scarf wound around my neck.

The Rift Valley runs through Kenya from north to south, and is part of inter-continental ridge system. Famous for the Cherangani Hills and a chain, of still active volcanoes, it is a must see sight.

We stopped and I held my breath. The escarpment was slightly visible, but the ground was too wet with dew and fog still hovered, however slightly to really see, plus we were too high up.

From there we drove to Lake Naivasha and went for a one-hour boat ride, where we paused and watched families of hippo raise their heads, a splendid array of birds, and the beauty and tranquility of this historic site. Also, visited the island on which Out of Africa was filmed.

Before returning to Nairobi, we stopped in a little town and a very delicious and satisfying Kenyan lunch…great array of vegetables and a fish stew.