Book news Catch up for RUN INTO BLACKNESS

Honestly, I forgot about this site. Well, it slipped my mind to write on my blog. What have I been doing with my book of poetry lately? Like our ancient people, I've been roaming in search for food --- those hungry people who LOVE poetry. It's taken me to book clubs, libraries, cultural centers, schools, and of course coffee houses. I continue adding places to my calendar.

My biggest rush for this year was getting into the Southern Festival of Books in Nashville, TN. The festival was October 8-10th and was a great way to end the year. I read from Run into Blackness and had a book signing after that. At the reading one woman sit there crying while I read. Perhaps it was because it's allergy season or maybe she felt something from my words. I almost stopped reading when I saw her tears.

The book signing was more of a rush. I had a constant flow of people. Some from the reading. People asked to take a picture with me. Others wanted me to sign their poster; there was a poster made for the festival. Then, of course, some books were sold. This was on October 9th.

After that festival, I drove from Nashville to Gallatin, TN which was about an hour away, to the Sudanese Arts & Craft Festival. I was the featured poet for that event. I enjoyed the constant flow of visitors, drumming, dancing and of course delicious food. Some Sudanese men sang a song too.

I read from my book there. Of the poems read, this resulted in a discussion about race and history. This somewhat controversial talk brought about mixed notions about race and event what it means to be black, Black and human.

My conclusion, you are what your momma made you while in the womb. We all want to feel special in some way. That urge to be unique will cause people to clutch onto just about any perception. There's nothing wrong with feeling good. People should like what they see in the mirror, but too many times in history people have used books (not mine!!), lineage and class to justify behavior, belief and causes.

I am Black. The Blacks, (i.e., those African snatched from Africa, Alkebulan) stolen and forced to work during the American slavery era are part of me. I can call myself anything I want even legally change my association but I don't deny the past. In fact, I embrace it with open arms. Those Africans were survivors. They thrive. That's the first message of hope.

Regardless what hell I encounter, I will survive and thrive. This is a human message but I link it with my roots. Can I find it in American stories? Yes? I can find the same message in China, Russia, Korea, India and a host of other places. This doesn't remove the uniqueness of my story. In fact, it connects my African racial brew with the other races which have a message of hope.

So find your story in your people regardless of your hair texture, nose or lips shape, and the other characteristics. Character gives us strength to be better people not characteristics.

Black History Month... American Dream or Nightmare?

February is, for those who don't know, Black History Month. It almost slipped between my fingers like the old sand cliche'. Like all observances people bring in different traditions and symbols. This holiday has changed too. I remember when it was mainly about rattling off historical firsts in Black History.

Then, there's the chant part. Who invented blah, blah, blah. Then a long silence. It was Joe Blow a BLACK MAN! Who was achieved blah, blah? Silence again. It was Mary Smith a BLACK WOMAN. The names would echo in my little brain and become stuck against in the legacy of achievements and heritage.

These game-show style approach of testing young minds might still occur in schools. Then, perhaps that importance of Black History has faded when the campaign for cultural diversity dissolved. By the way, I'm Black so this observance is more than an attempt to be socially connected with people of color.

Whether you know all the old facts of who did what and when or if you've memorized thebooks Obama family from cover to cover, the bottom line is that Black History is more about being a ladder for my people to climb with inspirational stories and ideas.

Use this month to begin to reconnect with your family history. Talk with your parents, grandparents and other relatives. Use email, texting, letters (they still will deliver them!) and phone calls to reach people. Then, when we hear what our members endured and read about historical events, we can connect the pieces. Then, those Black History moments will become a part of your everyday lives and personal heritage.

Still Black After all these Years --- Black History Month

Just a couple of months ago, people would greet you with "Merry Christmas," "Happy Holidays," and then later "Happy New Year." Few, very few have reached the comfort level to say, "Happy Kwanzaa."

Since this is Black History Month, or for the uncomfortable folks --- African American History Month, I think I'll freak people out this month and say, "Happy Black History Month!" I'll exclaim it with the same joy as the other holidays.

Why don't my people say this? What would be wrong with saying this to each other? Well, I believe most would feel uncomfortable with the word Black. Then, no one, not just Black people, really knows history.

When was the last time you actually read a book about any part of history? If you tell someone some facts about history, you'll get that look. You know the look. It's the look of smart ass. People begin to feel intimidated.

This is because for the most part, few Americans are readers. We're watchers not readers. (By the way, speaking of readers, for the readers who purchased my book, Run into Blackness, thank you! I truly appreciate your interest and support. You're making this publication a success!) As watchers, we spend more time dipping into the lives of others. Hey, I love television but balance the tube with some heavy books.

So, if you don't know about Black History, you can remove the shame by buying a book about Black History and start reading. If you're afraid of getting paper cuts or perhaps breaking the spine of a book, then visit the History Channel's website.

Books are better though. You can pace yourself. History's already around us, regardless of our culture, ethnicity, etc. we all have contributed to this grand melting pot. You owe it to yourself to know more about Black History other than:

Obama is America's first Black president,
Dr. Martin Luther King was a Black civil rights leader,
Harriet Tubman freed the slaves,
and Black folk are now free!

If you don't know this shallow list, whether you're Black or non-Black, this is really sad and it's time to go back to school.

Here's what sad about me. I don't know the history of who won the last few Super Bowls. How dare I call myself a real American!

Once Books were enough to distract us

I realized today that there are so many venues to write. This is good because anyone can express a thought almost anywhere with ease. Is this how we use the Internet though? To reach others and express ourselves? No.

What are still the main forms of entertainment gambling and 24-7 porn? They are the biggest distractions which can trap anyone. Other websites for the most part have very little to do with education or enlightenment. They want our money or identity.

There's a wealth of knowledge out there, so why aren't we improving ourselves? We rather look at butt clapping applauding the b-word and dancing puppies. Everyone has become a video whore in some shape or fashion due to the mass voyeur delight.

There's just an overload for the need for constant distractions. I wonder how far this need will go. Where are these distractions taking us? There's nothing wrong with entertainment. I love a good chuckle, beautiful women, rolling the dice and even doing a video now and then, but these are only a part of life. Not life.

For some it seems like the need to stay connected to social sites via hand held devices is overwhelming. Like back-alley street junkies a bigger fix is sought with each click? CLICK! CLICK, CLICK! CLICK, CLICK, CLICK, CLICK! How many clicks are enough to feel worthy, fulfilled, connected, or united?

When the power's shut off will we freeze like a crashed hard drive sitting in our distant rooms motionless like lovers who reached one large climax and fell into a blissful coma?

Haitian Relief, Another week still standing even after the fall

The joy of finally publishing a book is still flowing through my veins. I've decided to donate part of Run into Blackness's proceeds to the Haiti relief effort. This isn't a new idea for me though because I've used the arts in the past to help different causes. What's different is the immediate need for money for the Haitian people. We heard of a couple of deaths in Haiti on my wife's side of the family.

Like the many community problems in the States, it will take time to rebuild Haiti. I just hope our America arrogance doesn't get in the way of letting the Haitian rebuild their country. As I stated THEIR country. Many times America wants other cultures to see the world through red, white and blue eyes all starry and glowing.

That's the beauty of perspective. We all have a vision. Let's respect Haiti's vision.

Haiti still digging out of the turmoil

The images remain in my head. I hate having such a detailed, nearly photographic mind. When we first heard about the massive earthquake which hit Haiti, we sat in front of the television stunned. The worse situation to ever place yourself is when you want to do something but can't.

Whether it's a loved one in a hospital fighting a terminal disease, perhaps it's a child crying out wanting comfort, maybe it's a friend grieving from a death, you want to help. You feel this need to do something. Anything to make things better.

The piles of dead bodies and the eyes of people looking from within layers of concrete were images which definitely should make the desensitized droids wake up.

People did respond. People did send money to help. Family members from both sides called the house to check on us. We shuffled the calls with our own to reach people. Then, I typed as fast as I could using every social network site and email to get details. Any info would provide an ounce of comfort.

For two nights I slept very little, less than my usual amount. I didn't want to miss news. I had to text info out as soon as I learned something. Would this make a difference? I just felt this was my part, my role in the chaos.

If we can find a purpose when such events happened it tends to give a direction. It's not enough just to send money. The money's important but the need to stay connected to rebuilding another community, to grasp another cause is more important.

Even this blog is helping me to bring out the images and describe them. I feel some art and words surfacing. Not to just show the ugliness of death but the beauty of hope and the determination for people to climb up their walls and reach out with a hand to rescue strangers.

A New Year with New Words, Vision

This new year came too quickly. Two things I never, never, never do. I don't jot down a long list of resolutions or reflect back to the previous years beating on myself about regrets. I should have done this and that. I tried. That all we all we can do. Do our best and move on. Right.

People got copies of my book, Run into Blackness, in time for the holidays. It was an ideal gift for Christmas and Kwanzaa. I'm beginning to actually feel my poetic gumbo filling my spirit as the book events roll in.

Already my calendar is filling up. The run won't tire me.