My favorite music at present is that featured on the Mark “Rahkyt” Rockeymoore produced CD, also available as a download: THE GODDESS AND THE SKYLARK, featuring Nordette Adams and Aberjhani. Although I lent my voice as a spoken word artist to the CD some months ago, I only recently heard the finished product, and Rahkyt’s musical framing makes all the difference. In addition to some 18 pieces fire-spat by Ms. Adams and I, the set is infused with snippets of interview conversations ranging from the comfortably mundane to the cosmically sublime. Varied styles of music flow through it all like noble and amorous intentions through a satisfying dream.
Movies
A lot of great films coming these days. My recent writings on Amazon include reviews of "The Fountain," "Apocalypto," and "The Weeping Meadow." Currently working on one of "Stomp the Yard." Good hip hop comedies and romances, excellent foreign films, hard-hitting independents, and Hollywood films that take creative risks generally get my vote.
Television
I mostly use television to watch videos but you can count me among the fans of “Lost,” “Grey’s Anatomy,” “Prison Break,” and “Desperate Housewives.”
Books
At the moment I have about 422 books catalogued on Library Thing and I've got at least another 200 to go so that makes it difficult to pick favorites. Nevertheless, I have to include my own: "Visions of a Skylark Dressed in Black"; "Encyclopedia of the Harlem Renaissance"; "The Wisdom of W.E.B. Du Bois"; and "I Made My Boy Out of Poetry."
Heroes
At present, my biggest heroes are the team at BPS E-Publishing for putting my VISIONS OF A SKYLARK DRESSED IN BLACK out there; and the aforementioned “Rahkyt” and Nordette Adams for helping me realize a buried potential with the creation of THE GODDESS AND THE SKYLARK CD. In larger context of my life overall, my heroes are writers who meet the challenges of the craft and spiritual leaders who manage to shine their souls with blinding luminosity before departing this world. I also take a lot of inspiration from the average everyday human being who makes it a point to live his or her life with some sense of integrity, respect for self, respect for others, and respect for love as an essential component of human existence.
target="_blank"> Join the MySpace Chamber of Commerce! Click Here
About me: View my profile on Creative Thinkers International
Literature and music have always represented twin angelic forces in my life. It was my passion for books that led me to manage bookstores for more than a dozen years after having served with the U.S. Air Force as a military journalist for eight.
When responsibilities as a full-time caregiver forced me to stop managing bookstores, I picked up my pen and started writing again. In between doing what had to be done as a caregiver taking care of a parent at home, I managed to produce the books I MADE MY BOY OUT OF POETRY; ENCYCLOPEDIA OF THE HARLEM RENAISSANCE; and THE WISDOM OF W.E.B. DU BOIS. Since then, I've also completed two collections of poetry, a novel, and a book of creative nonfiction, all currently under publication consideration.
Who I'd like to meet: I enjoy meeting free thinkers, ecumenically-minded spiritual human beings, creative artists of every discipline––fellow writers, readers, visual artists, actors, singers, musicians––and simple folks living simple lives.
Layout by: My Layouts Creator
"Unconventional is a wonderful story full of heart, humor, and what it means to truly be successful. An A+ novel for the keeper shelf. " - Gemma Halliday, award-winning author
Black Stone Lying On A White Stone by César Vallejo Translated by Robert Bly
I will die in Paris, on a rainy day, on some day I can already remember. I will die in Paris--and I don't step aside-- perhaps on a Thursday, as today is Thursday, in autumn.
It will be a Thursday, because today, Thursday, setting down these lines, I have put my upper arm bones on wrong, and never so much as today have I found myself with all the road ahead of me, alone.
César Vallejo is dead. Everyone beat him although he never does anything to them; they beat him hard with a stick and hard also
with a rope. These are the witnesses: the Thursdays, and the bones of my arms, the solitude, and the rain, and the roads. . .
"Every heart beats a little differently... each soul is free to find its way... like a river that winds its way to the sea; For life is a journey, and there are many roads beneath the sky, and there are many good people who don't see eye to eye."
Walk and touch peace every moment. Walk and touch happiness every moment. Each step brings a fresh breeze. Each step makes a flower bloom. Kiss the Earth with your feet. Bring the Earth your love and happiness. The Earth will be safe when we feel safe in ourselves.
Well here's another.....as you can probably guess...I'm doing a lot of Rita Dove reading these days......
Vacation by Rita Dove
I love the hour before takeoff, that stretch of no time, no home but the gray vinyl seats linked like unfolding paper dolls. Soon we shall be summoned to the gate, soon enough there’ll be the clumsy procedure of row numbers and perforated stubs—but for now I can look at these ragtag nuclear families with their cooing and bickering or the heeled bachelorette trying to ignore a baby’s wail and the baby’s exhausted mother waiting to be called up early while the athlete, one monstrous hand asleep on his duffel bag, listens, perched like a seal trained for the plunge. Even the lone executive who has wandered this far into summer with his lasered itinerary, briefcase knocking his knees—even he has worked for the pleasure of bearing no more than a scrap of himself into this hall. He’ll dine out, she’ll sleep late, they’ll let the sun burn them happy all morning —a little hope, a little whimsy before the loudspeaker blurts and we leap up to become Flight 828, now boarding at Gate 17.
If I could just touch your ankle, he whispers, there on the inside, above the bone—leans closer, breath of lime and pepper—I know I could make love to you. She considers this, secretly thrilled, though she wasn’t quite sure what he meant. He was good with words, words that went straight to the liver. Was she falling for him out of sheer boredom— cooped up in this anything-but-humble dive, stone gargoyles leering and brocade drapes licked with fire? Her ankle burns where he described it. She sighs just as her mother aboveground stumbles, is caught by the fetlock—bereft in an instant— while the Great Man drives home his desire.
Though it is sometimes difficult, choose in each word, each thought, each action, to shine your positive light on the world... For it is in that choice that you will find a world and a life that is rich, and full, and truly beautiful to behold. Have a richly blessed week!
