From #Whimsicalit

Whimsicalit: An Unfolding Magazine

(Last updated on 11/15/16) Whimsicalit’s mission is to discover new talents and acknowledge established writers with either a connection to Haiti or ties to South Florida.  We call ourselves an “unfolding magazine” because we showcase one writer or artist at a time. We may be published—well—whimsically, but we take quality very seriously when accepting poems, interviews,…

Haiti: A Feast of Women Voices

(Last updated on 11/09/16) Dear readers, In the dyaspora, contemporary women writers of Haitian descent are changing the way the world thinks about the motherland. Through their fiction, nonfiction, and poetry, these authors explore various post-colonial themes, with topics ranging from family turmoil and personal struggles, to political and social warfare. Do you like The Whimsical Project? Support us! Women Writers of Haitian…

John Grey: Haitian Cockfight, 1953

Down from the mountains men come, each with a rooster tucked under the arm, fighting cocks, some small and feisty, some huge enough to knock out with one blow. Their women follow, huge breasted many of them, like there’s hens shoved down their cotton dresses, garland for strutting champions, for he who wears the champion’s…

Lilian Cotton: A Slow Battle

The artist in her own words: I was born in Lithia Springs, a suburb of Atlanta, GA and spent most of my childhood in various cities in the north and southeast.  I attended a magnet art school for visual and performing arts; concentrating in painting and drawing.  During high school I attended the South Carolina…

Hunger, by Natasha Labaze

Every day, every hour, every minute, every second The stomachs growled with hunger… The stomachs moaned in yearning… The stomachs growled with anger… The anger Frustration The hunger Rumbled beneath the earth Earthquake Earth sake Forsake For God’s sake… The Hungry stomachs rumbled, So loud Not to destroy But to be heard To find solace…

Learning Creole, by Juderns Exceus

My grandmother taught me Kreyòl. You must know where you come from, so you understand where you’re going, she said. Kreyòl: an open door to the culture of my ancestors. Once a year, my grandmother arrived to the US with two overweight suitcases stuffed with presents; the packages were first enfolded in newspaper, then in…

Yolaine M. St Fort: Flight

she fled from mahogany-hued skin dark velvet in winter and through spring summer skin, coated like black beans. she cried under her bed comforted by the cold of the linoleum the children on People Street said you can’t see coal in the dark. autumn skin, like eggplants they say the midwife dyed her skin purple…

Maryse Noël Roumain: Remembering Kate

Some twenty years since my mother left Brooklyn and moved to Queens, but I never met Kate in the building. And yet, she had been living there with her mother for many years prior to renting her own studio at wealthier Jamaica Estates. I met Kate’s mother first—we shared an interest in Haiti’s political drama—and…

Tile, by Enma Leyva

And they came to our rescue— they came, the World: too late. My grandmother sat amongst the ruins, holding that small, salvaged piece of tile from her house— the one and only house tile. Hundreds of tiles broken as the Americans came, only to see a broken country not my grandmother’s broken dreams. This was to…

Radio talk, Ms. May, and Hiatus

On The Whimsical Project, May was all about art, literature, and Haiti. I hope that you enjoyed the stories and poems by Katia D. Ulysse, Tammy L. Tillotson, Patricia Biela, and France-Luce Benson, and that you were also delighted by the art of Pascale Doxy. Ms.May, where have you gone? I was going to say,…

France-Luce Benson: Risen from the Dough

WGA Reg. # 1496852 In Risen From the Dough, two Haitian-American women in a bakery kitchen prepare for the impending arrival of the health inspector while they grapple with grief, identity, and the complicated realities of immigrant life. See it live in Miami, as part of Summer Shorts! Thursday, June 4 – Sunday, June 28 at…

Patricia Biela: Mamie’s Hands

Grand-mère, je vois tes mains. Your hands coddle infants nourish your children. Mamie, je vois tes mains. Your hands interlock God. Rosary beads hang. Grand-mère, je vois tes mains. Your hands plant mango and bananane. Mamie, je vois tes mains. Your hands teach poise, strength. My hands wait for yours.   Virginia, April 25, 2011…

Tammy L. Tillotson: The Picture of Haiti

In the background, a girl wears a sunny yellow t-shirt with a sailboat inside a heart. I want to ask if she got the shirt at one of Virginia’s Annual Lake Festivals. Does she remember— The colorful tents up and down Main Street? The wonderful aromas of plentiful food? The frozen drinks in souvenir coconuts?…

Pascale Doxy: Art as Therapy

Pascale Doxy is a native of Port-au-Prince, Haiti. Her passion for drawing started when she was a toddler.  She was introduced to water color at the age of twelve. At seventeen, dissatisfied with the light tones of water color, Doxy changed her preferred medium to acrylic. When Doxy turned nineteen, her parents signed her up…

Tragedians, by Katia D. Ulysse

Poverty is like an engagement ring: expensive but obligatory. Necessary. The world would be bleak without it. Poverty gives birth to thriving institutions that are immune to failure. Poverty is a lottery with the largest payout in history. Poverty is exotic. Poverty, like clean water, is indispensable. The engineers of this flourishing institution will kill…

Au revoir, April! (The month in review)

Poetry month has gone! April was particularly special to me because my play, To Accept, Dial 5 Now, was presented every Thursday at the MicroTheater Miami. To Accept, Dial 5 Now, which got positively reviewed, is a story about violence, jealousy and control, the choices we make, and the limits of love. Last performance is tonight!…

Natalie Lux: Oh, my… Empanadas!

As a person with Colombian roots, I consider food very important. There are a variety of delicious foods in this Hispanic culture— ranging from arepas to bandeja paisa. Nonetheless, my absolute favorite food would have to be empanadas. Empanadas are an extremely popular food often sold outside of churches or in the streets of Colombia.…

MJ writes a ZIP Ode

Throughout April, WLRN and O, Miami asked locals to write odes to their ZIP codes. A ZIP Ode is five lines, with the number of words in each line determined by the poet’s particular ZIP code. If a ZIP code contained a zero, that line could be left blank or used to put a punctuation…

Jeremy Paden: On this Fault, Let Us Write a Poem

Here is a stand, let us sit for a night or two or three in silence before we speak. I wish it were a copse of blue-flowering lignum, shedding petals that float like butterflies, or the ceibas under whose canopies Anacaona and Guacanagarix held court, or the guayaba and guanábana that fed Guarocuya’s rebels, even…

Hey, are you done writing that story?

‪#‎TBT‬ that time Dan Jones from The New York Times – Modern Love was on our stage, at Lip Service. Now accepting story submissions for our May 9 show. Deadline is April 17. Give us your best, true, personal story about POWER. A time you felt powerful. A time you felt powerless. A time power…