National Poetry Month: Gwendolyn Brooks

April is National Poetry Month. With all that I have on my plate, I will be happy if I can write at least one poem this month. We will see. Meanwhile, let us celebrate the art itself and celebrate those who have so poetically paved a way.

Photo by S. Bess: Bronze bust (1994) of poet, Gwendolyn Brooks (1917-2000) at the National Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C.

Artist, Sara S. Miller, 1924 - 2016

 

 

We Real Cool

By Gwendolyn Brooks

 

        The Pool Players.
        Seven at the Golden Shovel.

            We real cool. We   

            Left school. We

            Lurk late. We

            Strike straight. We

            Sing sin. We   

            Thin gin. We

            Jazz June. We   

            Die soon.

Merry Christmas 2016

One of my favorite Christmas scenes featuring Oprah Winfrey as "Ms. Sophia." This is for anyone who wishes to be home for the holidays. It's for those who miss their parents and loved ones. God bless and comfort you. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone. I'm looking forward to a fantastic New Year for us all despite the forecast. Peace~

Black History Mini Docs - James Baldwin

MC Spotlight: 12 Years a Slave

A group of enslaved men [including Solomon Northrup] waiting for work instructions

Over the weekend, I went to see the film, 12 Years a Slave, starring Chiwetel Ejiofor as Solomon Northrup. Overall, I thought that it was a great film. In fact, it was unlike any other film that I have ever seen depicting the lives of enslaved Africans in the United States.  Solomon Northrup’s narrative does what so many have tried to convey through fiction; it took an educated, talented, free, family man and placed him into the chains of slavery. However, Northrup didn't have to jump into any time machine or fall into a trance just to find himself in the middle of the antebellum south. Instead, he was an educated African American family man living in the North during one of America’s darkest times in history – Slavery. In an instant, Solomon Northrup was betrayed and found himself in chains. It didn't matter whether he was educated or a family man, but that he was a strong, able-bodied black man who could fetch a good price on the New Orleans slave market.

I will not delve too far into the story line, but I will say, again, that it is narrative based on true events. In Summary, Solomon Northrup was kidnapped and taken into slavery against his will. It was the result of a business deal with two white men who took him to Washington, D.C. to be part of a show. Northrup was an accomplished violinist. After talking business with these men and socializing, it is thought that the men poisoned/drugged him and during Northrup’s unconsciousness, he was sold to slavers. After he regained consciousness, he didn't have proper paperwork or documentation to defend his name or status as a freeman, so it was his word against those who had already purchased him. As a result, Solomon Northrup was taken from the slave pens of our nation’s capital to the slave auctions of New Orleans where he was sold to a planter in Louisiana. There, he would remain a slave for the next 12 years.

Solomon Northrup’s narrative resonated with me in different ways, but the most compelling reason was seeing an educated, free man diminished to a slave. The director did a great job of showing how Northrup goes from being a dignified family man to demoralized chattel. For example, there are many instances during the film when the camera just focuses on Northrup’s eyes and facial expression. It shows the inevitable decline in his posture as his spirit becomes more and more broken. He went from standing proud and upright to becoming slumped over with eyes to the dirt. It was upsetting. It was upsetting because I am connected to that enslaved past. It was also upsetting because I am connected to the human experience, and it saddens me that we are capable of such atrocities. Nevertheless, it is a story that must be told. There are too many people – especially new immigrants – who are unaware of America’s past. We have to teach them and tell them the entire story … everything.

Arna Bontemps: A Black Man Talks of Reaping

A Black Man Talks of Reaping

by Arna Bontemps

1902–1973

 

I have sown beside all waters in my day.

I planted deep, within my heart the fear

that wind or fowl would take the grain away.

I planted safe against this stark, lean year.

I scattered seed enough to plant the land

in rows from Canada to Mexico

but for my reaping only what the hand

can hold at once is all that I can show.

Yet what I sowed and what the orchard yields

my brother's sons are gathering stalk and root;

small wonder then my children glean in fields

they have not sown, and feed on bitter fruit.

Dedicated to my cousin G. Bess; He shares a birthday with Mr. Bontemps on today, October 13th, and he has sown many good things in the time I have known him.  I'm certain there was more before we became close; nevertheless, I pray that he reaps a generous harvest.  I'm sure that he will only take that generous harvest and sow even more.  This is the reason God gives seed to the sower (2 Corinthians 9:10).  God bless you G.  Peace~

Sources:  poetryfoundation.org and wikipedia.
Photo by:  Carl Van Vechten, 1938

Cut and Paste Dunbar: Compensation

Book on subject:  Give Us Each Day: The Diary of Alice Dunbar Nelson

Liquid Lunch: Take a sip

Liquid Lunch has arrived! I was smiling ear to ear when UPS showed up with my chapbooks. I felt like a proud Papa; I am a proud Papa! Well, if you wish to purchase just look to your right. There is a "Buy Now" button to click ($8.00). It's easy and safe to use. If you don't have a credit or debit card, send me an email (for email address just click profile button). I guarantee excellent customer service. Meanwhile, please tell a friend or family member. We gotta move these chapbooks! Thanks for all of your support. *Big Smile*

Note: The above is not the actual book cover. The book cover is on a beautiful green linen paper with a black and white photo of my grandfather and his friend in WWII.

Picture: By Me (watercolor and pencil on paper)

25 Writers Meme

I was tagged by Geoffrey to name 25 who have influenced my writing. There are some you might find surprising, but I thought of it carefully (with the help of my bookshelf) and came up with the following:


1. Richard Wright
2. Paul Laurence Dunbar
3. Ishmael Reed
4. James Baldwin
5. Jean Toomer
6. Langston Hughes
7. Ernest J. Gaines (pictured above)
8. Fydor Dostoevsky
9. August Wilson (Playwright)
10. Octavia Butler
11. Toni Morrison
12. Zora Neale Hurston
13. John Henrik Clarke
14. Sterling Brown
15. Irwin Shaw
16. John Donne
17. William Shakespeare
18. Oscar Brown Jr (Singer/Songwriter)
19. Edwin Torres
20. Clifton L. Taulbert
21. Curtis Mayfield
22. William Faulkner
23. Bill Withers (Singer/Songwriter)
24. Joseph A Walker (Playwright)
25. Kahlil Gibran

Honorable Mention: Jesus Christ (Holy Spirit) who is with me everytime I pick up the pen.


(Note: The names are in no particular order. Also, some of the names are song writers.)

Now, I'll have to tag 25 bloggers. Here's my list:


Barbie's Rants-n-Raves
Conscious Thought
Get Zapped~Pearls of Wisdom
Lessons Learned
Mwabi's World
NML is Tired of Men
A.E. Roman ~ Writer
CapCity
Cathy Delaleu~Poet
Kei's Revelation
Kofi Conde
Lovebabz
NosTheGameToo~Poet
Poetic Pin
Pop Musicology
The Trials and Tribulations of Jenelly Bean
Torrance Stephens
Uncle David's Poetry
Urban Butterfly~Poetry
Yasmeen Christian
Soul Aperture
Sugar-n-Spice
The Fulfillingness of Nina
Wandering Caravan
Bougie Black Boy~ Author

Happy Birthday, Chester Himes

Chester Bomar Himes was born in Jefferson City, Missouri on July 29, 1909. Himes is the author of several novels and short stories, but he became famous for his crime novels in the late 1950s and 60s featuring Harlem detectives, Grave Digger Jones and Coffin Ed Johnson. Three of his book were made into movies featuring the two detectives. Cotton Comes to Harlem (1970) and Come Back Charleston Blue (1972) are considered classics among 1970s Blaxploitation films. Himes' novel, For Love of Imabelle was made into a film under the title, A Rage in Harlem (1991), featuring Forest Whitaker, Gregory Hines, and Robin Givens.

Chester Himes died on Nov. 12, 1984 in Moraira, Spain.

Sources: math.buffalo.edu and crimeculture.com

The Great Danger

"The great danger," Richard told Sartre, "in the world today is that the very feeling and conception of what is a human being might well be lost."

Richard Wright to Jean-Paul Sartre, In Richard Wright - By Constance Webb

History: The Great Negro Plot

Today in history:

May 11, 1741
The execution of 31 Blacks and 4 Whites begins for their alleged conspiracy in the “Negro Plot”. 70 other enslaved Blacks are transported out of New York City.

Book on Subject: The Great Negro Plot: A Tale of Conspiracy and Murder in 18th-Century New York by Mat Johnson (2007).

I own a signed copy of Mat Johnson's book. I had a chance to attend his book reading in early spring. He seems like a really nice guy and I'm looking forward to reading his book. It's part of my summer line up. I have an idea of what I'll be reading this summer, but I need to "line" them up and get started. If you're like me you like to stay on the subject. In other words, if I'm reading about slave mutiny then I'll read about three other books on the subject. I don't know...I guess I'm hooked on African American history and the past. I mean, just look at my screen background at work. Yes, a field of good ol' southern cotton. I don't keep this picture as my background, but today was as good a day as any. Besides, it is part of my past and also part of my attire today because I'm wearing jeans. Enjoy your weekend. Peace~

Weekend reading: Ernest J Gaines

Bloodline: Five Stories
Written by Ernest J. Gaines
Category: Fiction - Literary
Format: Trade Paperback, 256 pages
ISBN: 978-0-679-78165-3 (0-679-78165-X)

This will be my reading this weekend from author, Ernest J Gaines. I admire him as an author and historic preservationist of African American culture. His work speaks to my heart. Thank you Mr. Gaines. Enjoy your weekend everyone. Peace~

Poetry Tag

My good friend Rethabile has tagged me today. So, I get to talk about something that I hold dear. Yes, I get to talk about writing and poetry! I hope that you all will learn something new about me. Ke a leboha, ntate!


1. Question one: Why do you write poetry (or literature) at all?

This congenital impulse in me was conceived through the Black oral tradition. My grandmother, Eunice was the family griot. I would listen intently to the stories that she would tell me as a child. These were stories passed down to her by her elders and she was more than willing to pass them on to me. I was an inquisitive, bright-eyed little boy with dozens of questions about who we were and who we are. All of this has compelled me to pick up the pen.

2. Question two: What is your favorite poem? You know, the one you'd have loved to have written, the one by whose standard you base all other works of art. If your life depended on answering this question, what poem would you suggest to the person holding the knife to your throat?

That would have to be the song, ZOOM Lyrics - COMMODORES. I know that Lionel is no Wole Soyinka or Gwendolyn Brooks, but I keep these lyrics pinned up near my desk. The lyrics seem to express exactly how I feel about life. The words are beautiful and definitely poetry.

3. Question three: According to you, what is the state of poetry today? Is poetry flourishing or dying?

I think of poetry the same way that I think of Jazz. Poetry is something that cannot be contained. It evolves and it is shaped and formed by the experiences of the people.

4. Question four: What kind of poetry (or literature) do you dislike, and would not consider buying?

I would not subscribe to or buy any poetry that is based on hate or contempt for God (Trinity), or another man as an ethnic group/race.

5. Question five: Between the styles of Come (by Makhosana Xaba) and word speaks (by Kojo Baffoe) which do you prefer? Care to tell us why? Obviously, Makhosana and Kojo aren't required to answer this question.

I can’t choose one because they both appeal to a part of me. Mme Xaba’s poem appeals that part of me that loves who we are as Africans and people of African descent (In other words, Africans). Mr. Baffoe’s poem appeals to my love of language and expression. They were both passionate in different ways. They were both beautiful!

6. Question six: What was the last poetry book you bought?

Leadbelly: poems, by Tyehimba Jess. I met this brother at the restaurant, Busboys and Poets. here in Washington, DC. He was hanging out with poet/activist Tony Medina. I had a great time conversing and laughing with these men. Look out for a review soon.

7. Question seven: Where do you go for poetry on the web?

All over, but I’m linked to a few on my sidebar under “Educators, Writers, & Poets.”

8. Question eight: Do you talk poetry (or literature) with friends and family? "Hi honey -- Hey, I read this incredible poem today..."

I sent half of my family some of my poetry a few weeks back by email. I feel that it is important for family to know us on more than a surface level. They need to know that there is more to me than just being “Stevie.”

9. Question nine: What one piece of advice would you give to a beginning poet (or writer in general)? One. What would you tell them to do or not to do?

I would tell them the advice that I repeat in my own head over and over, “Stephen, don’t worry about making it perfect the first time around…just write!

10. Question ten: What line comes to you after the following two verses (in other words, please write the third verse -- these are spontaneous lines from me and are no part of any poem I'm writing or will be writing).

When the light from the lantern

beamed and fell upon the child,

The illumination of her smile
cast a shadow on my pain

And all was better for a while

By the way, I'd like to tag Urban Butterfly for this one. Come on fly! *smile*

photo: Pen and a Pad

by: S Bess

Sources: TyehimbaJess.com, www.elyrics.net, and http://authors.aalbc.com/

American Hunger Part 1

"Their constant outward-looking, their mania for radios, cars and a thousand other trinkets made them dream and fix their eyes upon the trash of life, made it impossible for them to learn a language which could have taught them to speak of what was in their or others' hearts. The words of their souls were the syllables of popular songs."  ~ Richard Wright, Black Boy (American Hunger)

 I thought of this passage from Richard Wright as I observed our young people as I was riding the bus this morning. They all had their headphones blasting into their ears the sounds of the Top Ten from 106 & Park. They were oblivious to all that was around them and I imagined that their only goal was to get through this day without a teacher "sweating" them or asking them a question. (Thank God) I am not talking about all of them because there are some bright young people in the classroom that are going to do well in life. However, an overwhelming number are slipping into darkness. Their world is pitch black and all that they seem to relate to are beats. They can explain the beats and recite the lyrics to you verbatim. I don't have a problem with that because my generation (30-40 somethings) were at the forefront of the Hip-Hop scene. In 1984 I was grooving to Run DMC and UTFO. In 1988, I could recite the Jungle Brothers tape, Straight Out The Jungle, from start to finish. I grew up listening to the pioneers, and we were having a party with the likes of Kool DJ Herk, The Sugar Hill Gang, and Grandmaster Flash with Melle Mel. Well, we now know that Hip Hop has gone far over the edge and has entered into another dimension. The problem with its audience is that some of them can recite Mobb Deep, but they read on a 5th grade level at the age of 17. They can perform and do all the latest dances, but when it's time to perform on that math test they don't have a clue. They are falling short and it's not only going to hurt them, but the residual affects of it is going to fall back on us (parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and society). Who really cares? There are some in the government who try, but the rest could care less. The record companies and media damn sure don't care. They are going to continue to promote what sells. So, while the government, president, and record company executives continue to distance themeselves from our problems with their "getaways" and fabulous homes in The Hamptons, we will still be here trying to undo the miseducation of our young as they continue to bounce and bob their heads to the award winning song, "Whoop That Trick!"

Photo Source:  haroldshull.com

Margaret Walker: Stolen Moments

I want to write

I want to write
I want to write the songs of my people.
I want to hear them singing melodies in the dark.
I want to catch the last floating strains from their sob-torn

Throats.

I want to frame their dreams into words; their souls into

Notes.

I want to catch their sunshine laughter in a bowl;
Fling dark hands to a darker sky
And fill them full of stars
Then crush and mix such lights till they become
A mirrored pool of brilliance in the dawn.
By: Margaret Abigail Walker Alexander (1915-1998)

It was a beautiful spring day in 1989 on the campus of Savannah State College in Savannah, Georgia. I was an enthusiastic 22-year-old freshman. My major was English with a minor in parties and freshman girls (Yeah, I was something else back then). I was strolling the yard one fine day in April when I noticed a small crowd gathering outside of the Fine Arts Building. The program had just started and the host of the event introduced a poet and a novelist by the name of Margaret Walker. Now, I had never heard of Ms. Walker and pondered over why she was never mentioned in any of my English classes in High School? She stepped up to podium and greeted the small and eager crowd who reciprocated with smiles and applause. I smiled and clapped as well before knowing exactly who she was and what she had accomplished.

Ms. Walker began to speak and she told us all about her journey as a woman, a mother, and a writer. She spoke with grace and a beautiful smile that remained as she told her story. She also told us how she began to write at an early age and sparked the interest of a young poet named Langston Hughes. Hughes became her mentor and encouraged the young writer to continue her relationship with the pen. I was in awe of her accomplishments and especially her role as a Black woman in literature. She paved the way for so many and I had never even heard of her.

The program was soon over and the host thanked the crowd and informed us that Ms. Walker will be signing copies of her novel, Jubilee immediately after the program. I had to say hello! I quickly got a copy of the book and stood in line to get it signed. The line was moving quickly. As I got closer, I noticed that Ms. Walker had a little system: She would smile, greet, reach for the book, ask your name, sign the book and say “thank you.” Now it was my turn! Ms. Walker smiled, said hello and reached for my book. I extended my right hand to shake hers. Her smile grew wider and I said, “I really enjoyed hearing you speak today Ms. Walker. It would be a pleasure to shake your hand.” She shook my hand and said, “Thank you, what is your name son?” I told her my name and she signed my book. She gave me my book and I said, “Thank you, Ms. Walker.” She smiled and replied with, “you’re welcome.” I’ll never forget that moment. Ms. Walker would go on to live for another 9 years, but that moment will remain with me forever. Thank you Ms. Walker.

Photo Source: newsreel.org

How High?

"I am not less poet; I am more conscious of all that I am, am not, and might become."
(Jean Toomer, Writer-1894-1967)

Jean Toomer was an American writer during the Harlem Renaissance. He would become famous for his book, Cane in 1923. It consisted of short stories and poems that was inspired by his 4 month stay as a Teacher/Principal in Sparta Georgia.

Jean Toomer was born December 26, 1894 here in Washington, DC. Although Toomer's racial mix included Dutch, Native American and a couple of other spices from the mixing bowl he was classified Black by law because that mix also included African blood. This little racial misunderstanding would bug the hell out of Toomer for the rest of his life, but that's another blog. Today I want to briefly touch on Toomers quest for higher consciousness under the teachings of philosopher, George Ivanovitch Gurdjieff (click title for more info). In 1926 he had an out of body experience on a New York City subway platform. Yeah, I know that doesn't sound too out of the ordinary for New York, but this experience gave him a sense of higher consciousness. In other words, he became acutely aware of his spirit as something completely separate from the physical. He had a sense of becoming one with his spirit while navigating through his physical body. He compared it with being his own puppeteer that was controlling his every move. He also became aware of others who were experiencing the same level of consciousness (I know that this sounds a lot like some really good "smoke" or weed but it isn't). 

He could quickly pick them out of a crowd and the two spirits would connect for that moment. He described it as a strangely wonderful feeling. This is something that is often experienced by different people on different levels, but Toomer's experience lasted 2 weeks. I challenge anyone to attempt to see themselves and others beyond the physical. I've done this on occasion and, for a moment, it makes me forget about color and ethnicity. It was weird because I began to see the body as simply a host to something that is beyond my comprehension.

Works Cited

Toomer, Jean, and Frederik L. Rusch. Jean Toomer Reader: selected unpublished writings. Oxford University Press, 1995.

Generation Trap

This world has changed so dramatically in the past 10 years that I don't think that I understand it anymore. I am just getting to the point where I truly don't understand anyone born after 1981. I know...it's a different generation. I am a product of the X generation according to those who determine this type of thing. I remember not feeling like I was even a part of my own generation when I was a teenager. Where does that leave people like me? I am consumed with existential thought whenever this topic skips across my mind. Who am I? Why am I here? Who in the hell are these people; This current "Y" Generation?
I will say that they are a group that has their own voice. They are reinventing how things are presented, packaged and stated. Where did that all come from? Well, their words and ways of expression really reflect the current society. As a matter of fact, It is the very society that the previous generations created. So, why are the older generations angry, upset or scared of their own "bad" creations? I don't know? Well, actually I think that I do know. You see, it all goes back to the almighty dollar, c-note, cream, cheese, paper, greenbacks, dead presidents, scrilla or whatever you want to call it $. The media and corporate America will sell anything as long as it makes a profit, but you don't have to be a prophet to recognize the repercussions of such an attitude. Afterall, you reap what you sow. It's all being manifested in our young; just look around you. The food advertisements have them overweight. The brand of music that record companies are backing promotes materialism and ignorance. The radio stations hire people that speak the language of the young (broken English/Ebonics). It has affected the language of our young people to the point that Standard English sounds "funny" or wrong when they try to speak it. Education is certainly not needed because they're trying to cut an album or shoot some hoop. Our values are centered around getting all the $ we can right now and it is affecting/ infecting our young. No one wants to work hard for anything. I even wish that I could hit the lottery and just write for the rest of my existence. What will I write? Can I make that scrilla! I am not a fan of the E Lynns and the Dickies, but these people are making serious bread $ ( I forgot that one). So, I will just write and hope for the best. I will strive to be a true artist that will write just because I must. Meanwhile, the world will go on. Paul Laurence Dunbar expressed it best in his poem, "The Poet":

He sang of life, serenely sweet,
With, now and then, a deeper note.
From some high peak, nigh yet remote,
He voiced the world's absorbing beat.

He sang of love when earth was young,
And Love, itself, was in his lays.
But, ah, the world, it turned to praise
A jingle in a broken tongue.

Law Of The Bluest Eye

"And it was, for we were not strong, only aggressive; we were not free, merely licensed; we were not compassionate, we were polite; not good, but well behaved. We courted death in order to call ourselves brave, and hid like thieves from life. We substituted good grammar for intellect...."
Author: Toni Morrison (Bluest Eye, 1970)
Toni Morrison's words sounded off in my head like a siren when I first read them. They were also reiterated in Black Star's (Mos Def & Talib Kweli) lyrics for Thieves In The Night. The words speak truth about human behavior and who we really are. Do you ever think about what you would do if no one could see you? According to Bismark, "our character is what we do when we think no one is looking ." It certainly makes me question my character especially in my most vulnerable moments. Are we good beings? Am I a good person? I think that most of us are guilty of not being such good people. There are few among us who would not do something that is considered illegal or immoral if we could get away with it or if it were acceptable. So, some of us have something in our lives that governs our actions and makes us think twice about how we conduct ourselves. This governance can be in the form of our conscience (God), loved ones, or law enforcement. I don't think that makes us evil or mean individuals. It becomes nefarious when we carryout heinous acts with no remorse or fear of consequences. So, it's not that we are so good; we're just well behaved. Peace~