“Naw, I don’t get into jazz,” she said, finger popping, club hopping all the while. “I’m sure it’s fine but not my style. ‘Sides, can’t you see I’m dancing now? An’ what’s a coal train anyhow?” Club hopping, finger popping, all the while. Danced so fine, that gal of mine. Fake hair fling, brown flesh…
A common theme in my writing during the late 80s was Africanism, the flip side of which, I suppose, was Negroism. This was one of my favorite poems about Negrishness. It’s never been published anywhere before. Word. Met this cat name Luce other night on The Corner hunnet twenny-fif’ street an’ Lenox. He was just…
When I look back on my dusty, handwritten poems from my early days, I’m struck by three things. First, how bad some of them were. Second, that some of them–with minor improvement–aren’t bad at all. And third, always, how much race and ethnicity featured in my writing. It’s not so much that times have changed,…
In terms of actively writing, I recently figured out that over the last 4.5 years, since I wrote that 1st short story that turned into the Stream, I’ve averaged only 476 words per day. That’s about equal to a blog post, or about 1 1/3 paperback pages per day. However, over the 4.5 years, it…
I intend to remain open kimono on this blog, at least in regards to the writing process and photography. Who knows, perhaps someone will stumble on it one day and gain solace in their own work. Maybe by putting this energy out there, my own work will be discovered and appreciated. I just finished editing…
So, as I mentioned before on my writing blog, I’ve taken it upon myself to “fix” The Stream series, starting with Discovery. Now I don’t consider the books to be “broken” and the fact that my average review on Amazon is 4.5 out of 5.0 for the books indicates I’m right. However, the marketing is…
Author’s note: This originally appeared on This Blog Intentionally Blank on 30 January 2012. There has been a great deal of debate in the press lately concerning U.S. Presidential hopeful Newt Gingrich’s proposal to set up a permanent station on the moon by 2020. It was meant to be his “JFK moment.” This post is…
Heat is the remnant of what has been A response of chemical signals It is merely radiant noise the mind tells when it hates silence. Light is the bringer of illusion, reflecting of what might be when what is has no gloss of its own. We’re given passionate songs and finger-spoken promises that light and…
I was never an artist. Not I, no sir. I was far too busy being an obedient sycophant in pursuit of the American dream that my handlers convinced me was my own. When my childish heart beat a syncopated timpani to the strokes of my pen, I did not sing its foolish rhythm. While wanton…
I have been increasingly writing in the 1st-person Point of View (POV). Initially, it was because it frightened me, and I (correctly) guessed doing so would force me to grow as a writer. Now, I am simply hooked. However, there is a new challenge, as I strew together the multiple works-in-progress I have going: how…
The Artists' Sanctum 