Caroline Carver started life in Bermuda, Jamaica and England, and after spending time in mainland Europe, moved to Canada. There she worked in publishing, television and pr, and was an ‘on air’ radio personality for many years.


In 1989 she and her family settled in Cornwall and she began writing poetry in the mid-1990s, thanks to encouragement from the Falmouth Poetry Group.  In 1998 she won the National Poetry Prize with a poem about killing a shark, which gave her the confidence to keep writing, and she’s been fortunate enough to win or place in a number of other competitions since, among them the prestigious Silver Wyvern Award from Poetry on the Lake in Orta, Italy. She won the first Guernsey Poems On the Buses competition and was commended in the 2011 National Poetry competition.


Caroline’s work has been translated into Romanian, Italian and French, and she was part of a poet’s tour of Ontario and New York/New England a few years ago, in company with poets Penelope Shuttle and Victoria Field.   She continues to give readings and workshops around the UK and also abroad.  



In Cornwall, Caroline is active in many poetry happenings.  She founded PICCOLINA, which circulates news of all poetry events happening in Cornwall.  She’s a Hawthornden Fellow, and was poet-in-residence at Trebah Gardens for many years before taking up her current residency with the Marine Institute, Plymouth University.  


Caroline's work is published in a variety of magazines, including two in Italy, and included in many anthologies.



34 pages


£6.00 + P&P UK


PUB: 19/09/2016


ISBN: 978-1-910834-25-1













ju ju baby is alive in the world and the world is alive in him. There are ghosts, saw-whet owls, sounds that come from the bodies that spirits are given to live in.  


This book looks at how we grow in both body and spirit, how we bond with the natural environment, how we develop relationships.


Inventive, unusual and sparkling with life, it carries readers on a journey they will not forget.




"Fierce, vulnerable and open to his kinship with all the creatures that populate his world, an ancient new baby arrives, weighed down with the wrongs of his disposable ancestors. In bone -deep language, rich with images that score the skin of our complacency, we are shaken, moved and shamed by this small person and the disappearing landscape of his life."

Kate Foley


"Caroline Carver not only creates myth; she uses it in startlingways to illuminate reality, without letting either have the last word. ju ju baby is a remarkable work by a remarkable writer."

Michael Swan





















ju ju baby steps out of his mother’s body

puts on his fourscoreandten year boots

tastefully knitted in white with pink ribbons

(they were expecting a girl)


wa-wa-wa-wa-ah shouts ju ju baby

as the scent of his pine-needle heritage

drifts in at the window   ee ai ee ai ee  he cries  

as his cowboy lassoo-a-steer-at-the-gallop father

tries an uneasy cuddle    wonders why

his wife’s given him such an ugly baby


the nurse hands them a printout   showing

defective genes   mercury poisoning

hormone deficiencies  measles  

chicken-pox    other sicknesses to come


huh-mhuh-mhuah cries ju ju   still a soul  

not yet a person    not yet with second-sight  

but already seeing air thick with the dust

of his ancestors    crying wa-wa-wa-wa-ah

as they fall off construction sites   drown in lakes

die on horseback       gunfire behind them


ju ju eyes his mother’s body

wants to go back in again






the ghost of a woman

roosts in a pine tree  

sharing her branch

with a hooting saw-whet owl


her life gathered round her

like shredded remains of washing

clinging to the line after a great storm


it’s three years since her ex-lover

set a hare running    

a seed on the wind that took root

in the womb of her usurper -  


now she looks down from her perch

at an ugly moon-faced child  

her curse floating round him      

like wisps of night cloud


if she were human   she would weep    

strip the owl of his feathers  

blind those reproachful eyes          

beg for wickedness to be revoked






self pic 9781910834251 9781910834251

spring/summer autumn winter


ju ju’s springsummer run into each other

like eager young horses

the river fills with excitements as his dada

takes him through rapids in the birch-bark canoe

everything droops in the heat


fall    comes suddenly   an overnight artist

dipping into into the frost palette

turning everything blood orange

sometimes brings his moon mother so close

his arms are long enough to touch her


ju ju loves winter best      winter’s when

his birthmother zips him into his bear suit

and he goes out into a world  clean as new laundry  

carpets of snow  smooth enough for angels to lie on

the lake like unmarked glass

till they get out their skates   do figures of eight


sometimes his dada saddles the horses  

takes his cart on the ice

cuts great slabs    solid as mountains

to keep for summer in the sawdust pit   and ju ju

sings battle cries  sthum  sthum  sthum as he flies

down a slope  just steep enough for his toboggan    


winter   when liquid transparency rules the world

and every tree’s transformed     maples hang

with sweet icicles    snow-burdened

jackpines and cedars wear gloves of ice