The month of April is special to some people. I'm one of them.
April is my birth month...Taurus stand up! I haven't quite figured out how I'm going to contribute to the universe, as a thank you for allowing me to see another year. But, I know it will involve some acts of charity, some self-reflection and a lot of sharing.
April is also National Poetry Month. Last year during this time, I was invited to do a public reading thanks to a story contribution I had in an anthology. It was my first public reading, so I devised an original poem:
Title: How I See It
She's staring at me
Now she's dressing like me
Talking like me
Emulate
Copy
Idolize
Match
Outdo
Is she better than me
A higher version of me
Irritate
Agonize
Frustrate
But her model was me
Her new statue is me
Her whole transformation was because of me
Sympathize
Understand
Accept
Grateful
Humble
Recently, I was invited to give a presentation to Polytech School for Black History Month. I quickly devised this particular poem (that seems to be my go to genre huh?) and I thought it would be perfect to share here:
Title: Who We Are
Who Am I?
Who Am I? Who Are You? Who Are We?
The concept of ourselves is built outside of ourselves
Who tells you what to wear, what to be, what to like?
Even if you think it's you, it's not.
You have to go to another person's store to buy your clothes
Another person's website to find your job
But organic, raw, original, fresh people rarely come from nothing
They are built on inspiration, on something
Something that already existed, already profound
So I am a part of history, you are a part of history
We are a carbon copy of what came before, with just a little tweaking,
A pinch here, a snip there, and here we are...
Somehow individuals.
Lastly, April is National Jazz Appreciation Month in honor of jazz as an original American art form. I wholeheartedly appreciate jazz music. How can I love hip hop without understanding this influence? I declare to spend at least 80% of the month, listening to this genre. And yes, Kendrick Lamar!
4/02/2015
3/30/2015
My Subconscious at work
The universe is a wonderful and mysterious thing. You put things in its ether without knowing, or sometimes on purpose, but when the reveal happens it's always amazing.
Kendrick Lamar released his latest album, To Pimp A Butterfly, on March 16th...only a few weeks ago. Yet, before I hit the "purchase" button, I caught wind of a single called "Alright". Immediately, I scowled my face and stopped what I was doing. This song was so incredible on simply the first listen. I searched it on YouTube and literally, no I mean literally, as in seriously for real not kidding, played this song at least 57 times a day.
I loved this song so much, I looked up the credits to see who in the world could produce such awesomeness. And of course, it is Pharrell.
Anyone who knows me or reads anything I place on social media can understand the love I have for Pharrell's work. His producing credits are the instrumental soundtrack to my life...all the way back to 1996.
Why I find this so fascinating is because this has happened to me many times. I don't know why I haven't expected it at this point. When Frank Ocean released Channel Orange, I couldn't stop listening to "Sweet Life" before I heard any other song. When Kendrick released Good Kid, Maad City, I couldn't stop listening to "Good Kid". Same goes for Mac Miller (Objects in the Mirror), T.I. (Hello), 2 Chains (Feds Watching). I couldn't get to these albums without burning a whole in these songs first...initially not knowing Pharrell was behind the music.
Now, if I could only concentrate my conscious on becoming a billionaire so my subconscious can kick in!
Kendrick Lamar released his latest album, To Pimp A Butterfly, on March 16th...only a few weeks ago. Yet, before I hit the "purchase" button, I caught wind of a single called "Alright". Immediately, I scowled my face and stopped what I was doing. This song was so incredible on simply the first listen. I searched it on YouTube and literally, no I mean literally, as in seriously for real not kidding, played this song at least 57 times a day.
I loved this song so much, I looked up the credits to see who in the world could produce such awesomeness. And of course, it is Pharrell.
Anyone who knows me or reads anything I place on social media can understand the love I have for Pharrell's work. His producing credits are the instrumental soundtrack to my life...all the way back to 1996.
Why I find this so fascinating is because this has happened to me many times. I don't know why I haven't expected it at this point. When Frank Ocean released Channel Orange, I couldn't stop listening to "Sweet Life" before I heard any other song. When Kendrick released Good Kid, Maad City, I couldn't stop listening to "Good Kid". Same goes for Mac Miller (Objects in the Mirror), T.I. (Hello), 2 Chains (Feds Watching). I couldn't get to these albums without burning a whole in these songs first...initially not knowing Pharrell was behind the music.
Now, if I could only concentrate my conscious on becoming a billionaire so my subconscious can kick in!
3/15/2015
For the Greater Good
I have a new goody that I want to share. All of my "For the Greater Good" posts share products that I buy in support of literature.
James Baldwin:
An American novelist, essayist, playwright, poet and social critic.
He is best known for his first, semi-autobiographical novel, Go Tell it on the Mountain, Notes of a Native Son and Going To Meet the Man. He's also known for being good friends with Malcolm X, Martin Luther King, Sidney Poitier, Maya Angelou and Toni Morrison. He marched in the Civil Rights Movement, was openly gay, and influenced a plethora of future writers.
As soon as I saw the opportunity to buy this tote, I jumped on it. I now carry it proudly, in honor of a writer who contributed so beautifully to the culture.
James Baldwin:
An American novelist, essayist, playwright, poet and social critic.
He is best known for his first, semi-autobiographical novel, Go Tell it on the Mountain, Notes of a Native Son and Going To Meet the Man. He's also known for being good friends with Malcolm X, Martin Luther King, Sidney Poitier, Maya Angelou and Toni Morrison. He marched in the Civil Rights Movement, was openly gay, and influenced a plethora of future writers.
As soon as I saw the opportunity to buy this tote, I jumped on it. I now carry it proudly, in honor of a writer who contributed so beautifully to the culture.
2/09/2015
57th Grammy Awards
The National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences presented Grammy Awards last night to recognize outstanding achievement in the music industry. This particular award show has always been controversial, due to it socially being deemed as the highest award an artist can receive for their art.
Quoted from Wikipedia: Record companies and individuals may submit recordings to be nominated. Nominations are made online and a physical copy of the work is sent to the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences. Once a work is entered, reviewing sessions are held, by more than 150 experts from the recording industry, to determine whether the work is eligible and entered in the correct category for official nomination. Recording Academy members vote on the final ballots.
Here are the winners (not all named, just my favorites):
Record of the Year - Sam Smith
Song of the Year - Sam Smith
Best New Artist - Sam Smith
Best Pop Solo Performance - Pharrell
Best Pop Group Performance - A Great Big World
Best Rock Song - Paramore
Best Urban Contemporary Album - Pharrell
Best Rap Performance - Kendrick Lamar
Best Rap Song - Kendrick Lamar
Best Rap Album - Eminem
Producer of the Year - Max Martin
Best Music Video - Pharrell
And here is what I considered the highlight of the evening...
Quoted from Wikipedia: Record companies and individuals may submit recordings to be nominated. Nominations are made online and a physical copy of the work is sent to the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences. Once a work is entered, reviewing sessions are held, by more than 150 experts from the recording industry, to determine whether the work is eligible and entered in the correct category for official nomination. Recording Academy members vote on the final ballots.
Here are the winners (not all named, just my favorites):
Record of the Year - Sam Smith
Song of the Year - Sam Smith
Best New Artist - Sam Smith
Best Pop Solo Performance - Pharrell
Best Pop Group Performance - A Great Big World
Best Rock Song - Paramore
Best Urban Contemporary Album - Pharrell
Best Rap Performance - Kendrick Lamar
Best Rap Song - Kendrick Lamar
Best Rap Album - Eminem
Producer of the Year - Max Martin
Best Music Video - Pharrell
And here is what I considered the highlight of the evening...
1/09/2015
The Underdog...The Underrated...The Overlooked
In addition to my literature and music addiction, I love movies. I especially love cult classics. The movies that bombed at the box office and got horrible ratings, just to turn around and become the best things in your stash. I wanted to list some of my favorite cult classics (in no particular order) both movies and music. In sharing some of my beautiful nostalgia, I hope it encourages you to "let go" this new 2015 year and see where things take you. Sometimes your projects may not be well received at first, but if it was made from your heart, it will always find success somehow.
Movies:
The Fifth Element
Under the Cherry Moon
Robin Hood: Men in Tights
Galaxy Quest
Serial Mom
Who Framed Roger Rabbit
Cool World
Boondock Saints
Flowers in the Attic
In the Mouth of Madness
Killer Klowns from Outer Space
Satan's Little Helper
Music:
Christion - Full of Smoke (that whole album really)
Omarion - Touch
Sia - Soon We'll Be Found
Chico DeBarge - Love Still Good
M.I.A. - Bad Girls
...and plenty more!
Movies:
The Fifth Element
Under the Cherry Moon
Robin Hood: Men in Tights
Galaxy Quest
Serial Mom
Who Framed Roger Rabbit
Cool World
Boondock Saints
Flowers in the Attic
In the Mouth of Madness
Killer Klowns from Outer Space
Satan's Little Helper
Music:
Christion - Full of Smoke (that whole album really)
Omarion - Touch
Sia - Soon We'll Be Found
Chico DeBarge - Love Still Good
M.I.A. - Bad Girls
...and plenty more!
6/12/2014
Video Inspiration: Rick Ross + Dre Films
Need to find a video. What has inspired me lately? New music or old music? Well, old videos really. The only new video I think I've seen is Thug Cry. While that's a good video, I don't know if it's inspiring enough that I can come up with a story about it. Well, I am a genius. So, technically I can write a story about anything. I think I'm going to like that Penny Dreadful series. It's very dark. I like dark things obviously. For the Thug Cry video, maybe I could write something dark.
Funny, that was my beginning notes as I started to craft this entry. When I read back over it a week later, I thought I should keep it. It lets you know how random my mind wanders. Anyway, I absolutely have been obsessed with Rick Ross' song "Thug Cry" and when I saw the video, I fell deeper in love. Who doesn't like Wood Harris? Like honestly? Go Google him if you don't. I'll wait.
And Dre Films - (Jon J) Director of this awesome video, among many others:
Rick Ross - Rich Forever
Meek Mill - Amen
Wale - Ambition
(And almost anything else that Maybach Music Group does!)
Okay, watch the video, then read the story...you know the drill. (By the way, the intro is so extra. I would start at 1:33 if I were you.)
"Did you pick up the dishwashing liquid too?" Samera asked, sifting through the grocery bags.
"Yes."
"Yeah, but you don't always do what I tell you to, so I gotta check. And don't let Jerrod stay up late again. I gotta deal with that in the morning, you don't."
"I got it." Steve said, taking one item out at a time and putting it in the fridge. Samara unbuttoned the top of her bartender shirt, took Jerrod's food out of the microwave and set it in front of him at the table.
"Mommy loves you ok? Be good for daddy tonight while I'm at work and I'll see you tomorrow."
"Bright and early?" He asked.
"Before the birds chirp." She smiled. But Steve just huffed under his breath. Don't no birds chirp where they live. Gunfire chirped. Crackheads chirped. No birds though.
"So you trying to get beat in some video games before bed little man?"
"I'm better than you. You'll never beat me."
"Said the gingerbread man." They laughed.
"Yo, man open up it's me. And I got Abe and Ty too." It was Rocky. One of the friends Samera always told Steve to stay away from. Guys like him, were the definition of trouble. Steve walked across the kitchen and opened the back door to let them in.
"What's up with you? You coming out tonight right?" Rocky started.
"You know I can't." He nodded to Jerrod, who was silently nibbling on his food with his head down.
"Come on. This is getting tired. She can't keep hemming you up on kid duty and shit."
"It ain't like that. This is my son. I'm doing this because I want to."
"Yeah, well, I can't let you off the hook tonight. We need you." Steve looked to his other boys, who were no help. They both pretended to have the utmost interest in the wallpaper and the floor tiles.
"Ain't it your bedtime or something? Who eats dinner this late anyway?" Rocky said to the little boy.
"Jerrod, go in the other room. You can finish this later."
"But I'm not done." He whined.
"I said go!"
"Say what you have to say. What's the big deal about tonight?" Steve said when the boy was out of sight. Rocky took a seat at the table and rubbed his hands together.
"I got this problem. You know how I usually meet Andre every week to re-up on my stash right?"
"Right."
"Well, I'm going to come up short this week."
"So."
"So, that's a problem. He's going to make it a problem and I might not make it out of the meeting alive motherfucker, now you helping us getting the money for him or not? And before you say not, know that it's not an option." Steve put his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes vigorously. There was no way he could do this. He was on parole, had Jerrod to look after and promised Samera things like this were in the past. But he owed Rocky his life. If he said jump, he had to say how high. Taking a bullet for another man will do that to you, keep you chained to their ankle practically forever. Steve called the neighbor and asked if she could come over for a little while, watch his son and put him to bed. He put on his coat, tucked his gun in the small of his back, kissed the boy on the forehead and shut the door.
It wasn't quite 5 in the morning when Samera turned her key into the lock of their home. She expected to find the house a mess, tv still on and video game controllers sprawled out. But she found it exactly how she had left it. The only difference was her son curled up in a ball, on the couch, with no blanket. She put her stuff down and covered him, then stormed into the bedroom to yell at Steve. That no good, deadbeat, motherf-, she paused when he wasn't in there. She took the same attitude to the kitchen where she found it empty as well. He had left a note on the table explaining that Jerrod could finish the dinner in the microwave, then he had to go to bed. It was addressed to Kenesha, the neighbor. Samera dialed her faster than she could think.
"Please tell him I'm sorry. I left a voicemail that I couldn't come over. And since he didn't call back, I figured he was good. Girl, don't put him in the dog house. It was my fault. Was he trying to meet you or something?" Samera hung up. He had left their son in the house alone, overnight and never came back. Did he like leave? Like leave for good? Leave them? Or did something bad happen? Oh my gosh, if something happened and she's worried about yelling at him...She sat at the kitchen table, note in hand, until Jerrod shuffled in rubbing his eyes.
"Good morning mommy. Where's daddy?" And outside, a bird started to chirp.
Funny, that was my beginning notes as I started to craft this entry. When I read back over it a week later, I thought I should keep it. It lets you know how random my mind wanders. Anyway, I absolutely have been obsessed with Rick Ross' song "Thug Cry" and when I saw the video, I fell deeper in love. Who doesn't like Wood Harris? Like honestly? Go Google him if you don't. I'll wait.
And Dre Films - (Jon J) Director of this awesome video, among many others:
Rick Ross - Rich Forever
Meek Mill - Amen
Wale - Ambition
(And almost anything else that Maybach Music Group does!)
Okay, watch the video, then read the story...you know the drill. (By the way, the intro is so extra. I would start at 1:33 if I were you.)
"Did you pick up the dishwashing liquid too?" Samera asked, sifting through the grocery bags.
"Yes."
"Yeah, but you don't always do what I tell you to, so I gotta check. And don't let Jerrod stay up late again. I gotta deal with that in the morning, you don't."
"I got it." Steve said, taking one item out at a time and putting it in the fridge. Samara unbuttoned the top of her bartender shirt, took Jerrod's food out of the microwave and set it in front of him at the table.
"Mommy loves you ok? Be good for daddy tonight while I'm at work and I'll see you tomorrow."
"Bright and early?" He asked.
"Before the birds chirp." She smiled. But Steve just huffed under his breath. Don't no birds chirp where they live. Gunfire chirped. Crackheads chirped. No birds though.
"So you trying to get beat in some video games before bed little man?"
"I'm better than you. You'll never beat me."
"Said the gingerbread man." They laughed.
"Yo, man open up it's me. And I got Abe and Ty too." It was Rocky. One of the friends Samera always told Steve to stay away from. Guys like him, were the definition of trouble. Steve walked across the kitchen and opened the back door to let them in.
"What's up with you? You coming out tonight right?" Rocky started.
"You know I can't." He nodded to Jerrod, who was silently nibbling on his food with his head down.
"Come on. This is getting tired. She can't keep hemming you up on kid duty and shit."
"It ain't like that. This is my son. I'm doing this because I want to."
"Yeah, well, I can't let you off the hook tonight. We need you." Steve looked to his other boys, who were no help. They both pretended to have the utmost interest in the wallpaper and the floor tiles.
"Ain't it your bedtime or something? Who eats dinner this late anyway?" Rocky said to the little boy.
"Jerrod, go in the other room. You can finish this later."
"But I'm not done." He whined.
"I said go!"
"Say what you have to say. What's the big deal about tonight?" Steve said when the boy was out of sight. Rocky took a seat at the table and rubbed his hands together.
"I got this problem. You know how I usually meet Andre every week to re-up on my stash right?"
"Right."
"Well, I'm going to come up short this week."
"So."
"So, that's a problem. He's going to make it a problem and I might not make it out of the meeting alive motherfucker, now you helping us getting the money for him or not? And before you say not, know that it's not an option." Steve put his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes vigorously. There was no way he could do this. He was on parole, had Jerrod to look after and promised Samera things like this were in the past. But he owed Rocky his life. If he said jump, he had to say how high. Taking a bullet for another man will do that to you, keep you chained to their ankle practically forever. Steve called the neighbor and asked if she could come over for a little while, watch his son and put him to bed. He put on his coat, tucked his gun in the small of his back, kissed the boy on the forehead and shut the door.
It wasn't quite 5 in the morning when Samera turned her key into the lock of their home. She expected to find the house a mess, tv still on and video game controllers sprawled out. But she found it exactly how she had left it. The only difference was her son curled up in a ball, on the couch, with no blanket. She put her stuff down and covered him, then stormed into the bedroom to yell at Steve. That no good, deadbeat, motherf-, she paused when he wasn't in there. She took the same attitude to the kitchen where she found it empty as well. He had left a note on the table explaining that Jerrod could finish the dinner in the microwave, then he had to go to bed. It was addressed to Kenesha, the neighbor. Samera dialed her faster than she could think.
"Please tell him I'm sorry. I left a voicemail that I couldn't come over. And since he didn't call back, I figured he was good. Girl, don't put him in the dog house. It was my fault. Was he trying to meet you or something?" Samera hung up. He had left their son in the house alone, overnight and never came back. Did he like leave? Like leave for good? Leave them? Or did something bad happen? Oh my gosh, if something happened and she's worried about yelling at him...She sat at the kitchen table, note in hand, until Jerrod shuffled in rubbing his eyes.
"Good morning mommy. Where's daddy?" And outside, a bird started to chirp.
4/29/2014
Poetry Reading
In December 2013, the anthology WANDERINGS was published on Amazon.com, with one of my short stories included. The Hockessin Book Shelf invited all 16 writers of the compilation to read publicly in honor of National Poetry Month, this past Sunday, April 27th.
Because of my previous post, I made it a point to construct an original poem. My inspiration came from two characters in a story I've been working on:
Titled: How I See It
She's staring at me
Now she's dressing like me
Talking like me
Emulate
Copy
Idolize
Match
Outdo
Is she better than me
A higher version of me
Irritate
Agonize
Frustrate
But her model was me
Her new statue is me
Her whole transformation was because of me
Sympathize
Understand
Accept
Grateful
Humble
Because of my previous post, I made it a point to construct an original poem. My inspiration came from two characters in a story I've been working on:
Titled: How I See It
She's staring at me
Now she's dressing like me
Talking like me
Emulate
Copy
Idolize
Match
Outdo
Is she better than me
A higher version of me
Irritate
Agonize
Frustrate
But her model was me
Her new statue is me
Her whole transformation was because of me
Sympathize
Understand
Accept
Grateful
Humble
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