Poet & Writer

Everything Was Something, Everyone Was Someone
And That Was Not So Long Ago
Time Can Bleed
But Our Eyes Still Reflect
©J.J.James

When we take time to look back and think of the people we have met and visited. We are reminded that society creates their own version behind a story and no matter the story, there are always many storytellers.

England during the 1950’s (The Windrush Years) had created a portrait of West Indian Writers, Poets, Photographers and talented Musicians.

Colourful artists like Jimmy Cliff, Dennis Morris and James Berry.

James Berry (Jim) was a close friend of my parents. Born in Portland Parish Jamaica, James was just one artist who took his work to the next level and became recognised for his poetry works and writing like: The Barefoot Traveller, An Anthology of West Indian Poets in Britain, Windrush Songs, Lucy’s Letter and Loving, Fractured Circles and When I Dance.

Whenever James came to our house for dinner with his family, he was eager to tell us of his latest travels and wonderful stories. I would listen intently and take in the different notes of his voice. He spoke with a slight Jamaican Patwa and a quality blend of English which came across to me as rich, sensual, colourful and distinctive in style.

James Berry was one of the first black prominent writers to achieve wide recognition through his work, winning numerous awards and later on receiving an OBE.

He was a good mentor and inspired me to write at a young age. I felt extremely lucky to have known him, if only for a short time. He cared about what you were thinking and he believed that: “To Be Heard Is To Be Valued.”

James (Jim) was a gentleman and well respected. For me, his work will always be held in the highest esteem.

Born:  September 28th, 1924
Died: June 20th, 2017

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