Sound the trumpets! Line up the Drake Trophies and all! National Poetry Month is here!
I'm a prose writer, and a proud one, but any writer of any genre will always say that they appreciate poetry. Well, at least they should say that. I appreciate it for two, simple reasons: (1) the fact that the best poems say so much in such short lines is phenomenal (2) my favorite music genre (hip hop) is rooted in poetry (along with blues of course).
My favorite poet is Nikki Giovanni. I've mentioned her several times on this blog (and probably even posted this twice) because she really and truly is a gifted poet. A woman who can write about anything and make anyone feel its depth. Her poem, I Wrote A Good Omelet, literally made me stop in my tracks when I first read it. You can't just glance over a poem like that. It makes you ingest its words and really consume its meaning. Please, please enjoy and embrace:
I wrote a good omelet...and ate
a hot poem... after loving you
Buttoned my car...and drove my
coat home...in the rain...
after loving you
I goed on red...and stopped on
green...floating somewhere in between...
being here and being there...
after loving you
I rolled my bed...turned down
my hair...slightly
confused but...I don't care...
Laid out my teeth...and gargled my
gown...then I stood
...and laid me down...
To sleep...
after loving you
3/28/2014
Currently Reading: Dracula by Bram Stoker
I have a "thing" for horror books and movies. The good ones keep me on the edge of my seat and the even better ones etch their characters in my mind forever. This book, Dracula, is a serious gem to me right now. If you've ever seen the 1992 movie with Anthony Hopkins, Gary Oldman and Keanu Reeves, you would know how complex they made this story about vampires.
Sometimes I struggle with whether or not to write horror stories myself. I like the setup of a thriller and how an author can build mounting suspense. It takes quite a bit of skill to master that, to hold all of the good tension until the right, exact moment. It makes me think about life in general. As we all go through our journeys, it seems that we are holding on to a fantastic part of our potential, that is released at an exact, right moment. And it can happen spontaneously or we can control it. Have you ever been in a situation where you knew you had the talent or information with which to surprise someone? Your boss is having computer problems at a crucial time in the day and you realize you know how to fix it, but they don't know that you know...? I guess it's like that. Suspense building.
I'm on page 211, and even though I know how this book will end, I love savoring every word, sentence and page. Hopefully, I'll get the courage to try my hand at writing horror/suspense and in the meantime, simply work on it in real life :-)
3/12/2014
2/27/2014
Video Inspiration: Gregory Porter + Pierre Bennu
This isn't my usual Hip Hop-inspired story. But, I loved this song and this video so much that I felt it deserved a "breaking the rules" moment. Initially, as most of my stories, I wanted this short story to have a death in it and the video certainly gave me room to play with that. But after watching it about 157 times, I was struck by something more than death. Loneliness. To live with that is much worse.
Gregory Porter is a jazz vocalist and songwriter. He was a promising football player in high school until a shoulder injury ended that hope. It was his mother's wish that he fulfilled his passion for singing and so that became his backup plan, right after her death.
Although he released his latest, third album, Liquid Spirit, in September 2013, this song "Be Good (Lion's Song)" is from his second album, Be Good. I know I'm behind on the song's popularity but as I've said before - good music is good music, a good video is a good video. Time be damned.
He believed a rose was at its most beautiful when it dangled from a woman's hair, right over the arch of her eyebrow. Gloria was her name and such a rose was positioned ever so carefully in her jet-black curls. She was the most classy, humble and lively person that Ben had ever met. When he approached her that night, in Ray’s Boom Boom Room, and asked if she wanted to dance, even her rejection sounded like soft, melting butter. In front of her crowd of friends, she boldly told him that she didn’t want to dance with the likes of such a lion as he.
“What does that mean?” He asked sincerely. But she only turned her head. Ben walked back to the other side of the room, thinking, plotting of another way to win her over. He watched her intently, the way she gently sipped her drink, covered her mouth when she laughed, and the way her body swayed as she danced alone in the middle of the floor. Alone. Her movements were graceful but her face was empty. Ben knew she wasn’t content with being alone. That was his cue.
“What makes me a lion?” He asked genuinely, hoping she didn’t walk away. She forced back a smile and said that men like him are dangerous to women like her. They hurt. They caused pain on purpose. When he asked her how she could tell he was such a man, she simply replied that lions were made for cages, just to look at and delight but you dared not let them walk around, cause they might just bite. His heart ached as she left him for the other side of the room. He stood alone, lonely, for what seemed like a very long time. It pained him to watch her all over again and even more so not to try one last time.
“What is a rose? A rose by any other name would still smell as sweet. A lion named Ben would love nothing more than to dance with you…if he could.” He said, pouring his heart into his hand and extending it. His nerves were frozen and he said a silent prayer. One more refusal would just about break him. But suddenly, he felt warmth. It was the touch of her hand melting into his. They glided across the dance floor, disappearing into one another and being content with entrapment.
Gregory Porter is a jazz vocalist and songwriter. He was a promising football player in high school until a shoulder injury ended that hope. It was his mother's wish that he fulfilled his passion for singing and so that became his backup plan, right after her death.
Although he released his latest, third album, Liquid Spirit, in September 2013, this song "Be Good (Lion's Song)" is from his second album, Be Good. I know I'm behind on the song's popularity but as I've said before - good music is good music, a good video is a good video. Time be damned.
He believed a rose was at its most beautiful when it dangled from a woman's hair, right over the arch of her eyebrow. Gloria was her name and such a rose was positioned ever so carefully in her jet-black curls. She was the most classy, humble and lively person that Ben had ever met. When he approached her that night, in Ray’s Boom Boom Room, and asked if she wanted to dance, even her rejection sounded like soft, melting butter. In front of her crowd of friends, she boldly told him that she didn’t want to dance with the likes of such a lion as he.
“What does that mean?” He asked sincerely. But she only turned her head. Ben walked back to the other side of the room, thinking, plotting of another way to win her over. He watched her intently, the way she gently sipped her drink, covered her mouth when she laughed, and the way her body swayed as she danced alone in the middle of the floor. Alone. Her movements were graceful but her face was empty. Ben knew she wasn’t content with being alone. That was his cue.
“What makes me a lion?” He asked genuinely, hoping she didn’t walk away. She forced back a smile and said that men like him are dangerous to women like her. They hurt. They caused pain on purpose. When he asked her how she could tell he was such a man, she simply replied that lions were made for cages, just to look at and delight but you dared not let them walk around, cause they might just bite. His heart ached as she left him for the other side of the room. He stood alone, lonely, for what seemed like a very long time. It pained him to watch her all over again and even more so not to try one last time.
“What is a rose? A rose by any other name would still smell as sweet. A lion named Ben would love nothing more than to dance with you…if he could.” He said, pouring his heart into his hand and extending it. His nerves were frozen and he said a silent prayer. One more refusal would just about break him. But suddenly, he felt warmth. It was the touch of her hand melting into his. They glided across the dance floor, disappearing into one another and being content with entrapment.
2/22/2014
"I think I like who I'm becoming..."
I've been away from this blog for a long time. Life had me distracted. But in the last few days, I felt that if I didn't get back on track with this part of my creative mind, I might lose it forever.
Random as it may be, I love this poem by Nikki Giovanni and while it explains a physical lover, right now, in my life, I see it as I'm in love with myself and I must say...I think I like who I'm becoming...
I wrote a good omelet...and ate
a hot poem... after loving you
Buttoned my car...and drove my
coat home...in the rain...
after loving you
I goed on red...and stopped on
green...floating somewhere in between...
being here and being there...
after loving you
I rolled my bed...turned down
my hair...slightly
confused but...I don't care...
Laid out my teeth...and gargled my
gown...then I stood
...and laid me down...
To sleep...
after loving you
- Nikki G.
Random as it may be, I love this poem by Nikki Giovanni and while it explains a physical lover, right now, in my life, I see it as I'm in love with myself and I must say...I think I like who I'm becoming...
I wrote a good omelet...and ate
a hot poem... after loving you
Buttoned my car...and drove my
coat home...in the rain...
after loving you
I goed on red...and stopped on
green...floating somewhere in between...
being here and being there...
after loving you
I rolled my bed...turned down
my hair...slightly
confused but...I don't care...
Laid out my teeth...and gargled my
gown...then I stood
...and laid me down...
To sleep...
after loving you
- Nikki G.
7/22/2013
Video Inspiration: Michael Francis + Marcus Castillo
One lovely day, I was working on my computer (as usual) and watching music videos (as usual) when this random video came on MTV2. The music immediately made me stop what I was doing and the visuals spellbound me too. All of it just came out of nowhere. His voice, the simplicity of the setting and storyline...
You know I was forced to write something right?!
I couldn't find much information on the video director, Marcus Castillo.
Michael Francis, however, is an independent singer from New Jersey. He's been slow releasing material for the past couple of years, even doing a remake of Ginuwine's "Pony". I especially love that he was interviewed by KARMALOOPTV back in January 2012. Peep a snippet of the interview...here.
Loyalty. That's the essence of family. What defines it. Michael and Francis, my brothers, and I had a loyal bond. It defined us. And we strengthened it every January by taking a hunting trip to Montana. We went out at sunrise with the goal of at least one score. Michael led the way. After an hour in the cold, stopping several times to rest, we had nothing to show for our effort and I was getting tired.
"Samuelson, go east. I think I see something over there." Michael said with his Marlin 336 poised and pointed north, his back to me. I turned my head but saw nothing. I wasn't about to go on an empty chase through the backwoods, on a hunch.
"I don't see nothing."
"It just moved again. I see it in the corner. Go check it out!"
"Just go Samuelson." Francis whispered. With my shoulders slumped and head bowed, I trudged through the hard, wet snow looking for a deer, a bear, anything to qualify as our first score. About 30 feet in, I felt it. I felt another presence and saw something run by. It was fast too. I lifted my Browning T-Bolt on my shoulder and bent down, casing all angles. I felt the rush, the thrill. It didn't take long for the shadow to come into focus. Bits of brown and black, white and gold. This wasn't animal. I hesitated to move from my position, half wanting to call out to Michael and Francis. But during this whole trip, they could tell I was distracted. I wasn't the same. Calling for them would only make me feel worse.
I followed the movement through the trees, through the snow, until it stopped and came into view. Then I saw her. My Nona. Standing right in front of me, 500 + miles away from our home, she was as clear as the wind. I could've been dreaming but I wasn't. Had I missed her so much that I was seeing things? I dropped my gun and followed, further away from my brothers. She had always led me away from them. From the moment we met, years ago, we formed a bond that even they couldn't break. But they tried. They told me she was breaking my loyalty. They told me I should leave her. And they gave me a choice.
I followed Nona, or her mirage through the trees, through the snow, until we reached a white house on the hill. Inside was a blur because all I saw was her. My love. I saw her face. I touched it. Her skin set me on fire. It felt so good. This couldn't be a dream. But somehow this was right. It didn't matter that I hadn't seen Nona since the day I chose to leave her, two years ago. She was here now. She was with me now. I closed my eyes and drank in her presence.
There was a tap on the window. Where was I? What just happened? I sat up and looked around, still not seeing all that was in front of me. I remembered being with her. But she was gone now. Outside, Michael and Francis waited for me. They had found my gun. Their stare communicated what I wouldnt acknowledge.. I was going off the deep end again. There was no Nona. There was no house. No creamy skin. Two years ago, I chose my brothers over her. Two years ago, they didn't think I would do it...and they chose to kill her. Verbally, I forgave them. How could I not? Family is loyalty. But mentally and emotionally, our bond was broken. I would forever be with Nona. If I saw her ghost every day of my life, it would be fine with me. This is what they made me into. Instead of allowing us to be happy, they now have to deal with my misery. And it's better this way.
You know I was forced to write something right?!
I couldn't find much information on the video director, Marcus Castillo.
Michael Francis, however, is an independent singer from New Jersey. He's been slow releasing material for the past couple of years, even doing a remake of Ginuwine's "Pony". I especially love that he was interviewed by KARMALOOPTV back in January 2012. Peep a snippet of the interview...here.
Loyalty. That's the essence of family. What defines it. Michael and Francis, my brothers, and I had a loyal bond. It defined us. And we strengthened it every January by taking a hunting trip to Montana. We went out at sunrise with the goal of at least one score. Michael led the way. After an hour in the cold, stopping several times to rest, we had nothing to show for our effort and I was getting tired.
"Samuelson, go east. I think I see something over there." Michael said with his Marlin 336 poised and pointed north, his back to me. I turned my head but saw nothing. I wasn't about to go on an empty chase through the backwoods, on a hunch.
"I don't see nothing."
"It just moved again. I see it in the corner. Go check it out!"
"Just go Samuelson." Francis whispered. With my shoulders slumped and head bowed, I trudged through the hard, wet snow looking for a deer, a bear, anything to qualify as our first score. About 30 feet in, I felt it. I felt another presence and saw something run by. It was fast too. I lifted my Browning T-Bolt on my shoulder and bent down, casing all angles. I felt the rush, the thrill. It didn't take long for the shadow to come into focus. Bits of brown and black, white and gold. This wasn't animal. I hesitated to move from my position, half wanting to call out to Michael and Francis. But during this whole trip, they could tell I was distracted. I wasn't the same. Calling for them would only make me feel worse.
I followed the movement through the trees, through the snow, until it stopped and came into view. Then I saw her. My Nona. Standing right in front of me, 500 + miles away from our home, she was as clear as the wind. I could've been dreaming but I wasn't. Had I missed her so much that I was seeing things? I dropped my gun and followed, further away from my brothers. She had always led me away from them. From the moment we met, years ago, we formed a bond that even they couldn't break. But they tried. They told me she was breaking my loyalty. They told me I should leave her. And they gave me a choice.
I followed Nona, or her mirage through the trees, through the snow, until we reached a white house on the hill. Inside was a blur because all I saw was her. My love. I saw her face. I touched it. Her skin set me on fire. It felt so good. This couldn't be a dream. But somehow this was right. It didn't matter that I hadn't seen Nona since the day I chose to leave her, two years ago. She was here now. She was with me now. I closed my eyes and drank in her presence.
There was a tap on the window. Where was I? What just happened? I sat up and looked around, still not seeing all that was in front of me. I remembered being with her. But she was gone now. Outside, Michael and Francis waited for me. They had found my gun. Their stare communicated what I wouldnt acknowledge.. I was going off the deep end again. There was no Nona. There was no house. No creamy skin. Two years ago, I chose my brothers over her. Two years ago, they didn't think I would do it...and they chose to kill her. Verbally, I forgave them. How could I not? Family is loyalty. But mentally and emotionally, our bond was broken. I would forever be with Nona. If I saw her ghost every day of my life, it would be fine with me. This is what they made me into. Instead of allowing us to be happy, they now have to deal with my misery. And it's better this way.
7/02/2013
Video Inspiration - Wale + Sarah McColgan
Wale released his super highly anticipated album, The Gifted, last week on June 25th. Today will reveal how well the album did for its first week. In my own little way, I'd like to help him celebrate with this video inspiration (and since Wale began his style with poetry, this is in the form of a poem)
The video for LoveHate Thing was directed by Sarah McColgan, released on June 23rd and features Sam Dew.
Sam - He's a RocNation artist and doesn't look anything like he sounds
Sarah - She's a photographer as well as director. She has directed Miguel's video for "Candles in the Sun" and also photographed one of my favorite artists...Kelis!
Love/Hate Thing
Black and White
Rich and Poor
Up and Down
Life is Love, is what They tell me
Or what She told me.
Hot air, dusty room
We Have Each Other, I Assume
Fans Blow
I Love Her Though
Conflicts and Questions
Reaching Goals
I ask her, She asks me
We Dig One Another’s Soul
Decisions about Love
Decisions about Life
I Hate the Battle and The Strife
Champagne and its Bubbles
Dusse and No Trouble
3 Piece Suits
Her Smile and Mine
Hard Work, Pray Hard
Our Favorite Line
I Love Her Though
I Hated the Battle
I guess it’s a Love/Hate Thing
The video for LoveHate Thing was directed by Sarah McColgan, released on June 23rd and features Sam Dew.
Sam - He's a RocNation artist and doesn't look anything like he sounds
Sarah - She's a photographer as well as director. She has directed Miguel's video for "Candles in the Sun" and also photographed one of my favorite artists...Kelis!
Love/Hate Thing
Black and White
Rich and Poor
Up and Down
Life is Love, is what They tell me
Or what She told me.
Hot air, dusty room
We Have Each Other, I Assume
Fans Blow
I Love Her Though
Conflicts and Questions
Reaching Goals
I ask her, She asks me
We Dig One Another’s Soul
Decisions about Love
Decisions about Life
I Hate the Battle and The Strife
Champagne and its Bubbles
Dusse and No Trouble
3 Piece Suits
Her Smile and Mine
Hard Work, Pray Hard
Our Favorite Line
I Love Her Though
I Hated the Battle
I guess it’s a Love/Hate Thing
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