"Going Natural," A Poetry Post

"Going Natural"

I tried to go natural but my
hair wouldn't comb;
it wouldn't comb.

I tried to go natural and
wet my hair with a spritzer so that
I could pick it daily but that
pick wouldn't move;
it hardly moved.

I tried to go natural and
make my hair "black curly" but my
hair didn't curl;
it didn't curl.

Even when I gelled it,
heated it, I only infuriated it;
tried to love it, but
I hated it,
because it wouldn't curl.

I tried to go natural and find my
true self,
but I found out that truly I
wanted my hair to be
more freakin' manageable and
much less unruly so I
went back to the perm.

I don't feel like I fell down to a
colonizer.

I don't feel like I
gave up my
history.

I don't feel like I'm
yielding to a system's
set rules of beauty.

I feel like my hair needs Madame CJ's
press, finesse and moisturizers.

It was a black girl who made the crack that
flattens out my kinky plats.

And I thank God for that.

Cause I wasn't made to wear my hair
so
jacked.

-TJM

"Cracked Man," A Poetry Post

“Cracked Man”

Cracked man,
bring me your lassoed heart and
allow me to soothe your
incessant twitching.

Let the lathering moisture of
eminence smooth the itching of your
soul's ear. Let me
make your year better with
verse and semicolons.

Let me give you love here in
stanza; run with me in
winds of imaging and
rhyme; in
marked time.

Let pentameter relieve your aching.
Let my couplets remove
the hiccup in your groove
and soon,
soon you will know what is
high.

Soon you will know
what is
high.

"Kissing a Man," A Poetry Post

“Kissing a Man”

I never kissed a man and found that
I was better for it; I just
Found myself enticed and thought I’d
Might rather enjoy it so I
Took lust and employed it.

Perhaps the love would last if
I had some kind of connection to the
Neck, lips and erection tritely
Drawing my affections,
But as life would have it I am
Tongue-tied to a passerby.

I tell myself “I
just can’t lie; truth is
he’s taking kisses in his interest but tomorrow he’ll be
interestless.”

“He is merely taken with the
tongue, the teeth, the lips,
not the ‘if’ of his committedness.”

This is not bliss.
This is just a kiss.

And a kiss,
Don’t change a thing at all.

"Criminal," A Poem

When boys and girls are born and grace the earth,
the only thing we see is
if their looks equal their birthing’s worth;
coo-coo-ca-choo.
We seem to think that all they see in us
is a baby spoon with
boiled and mashed peas and
applesauce mixed in for sweetness.

But don’t believe the meekness of scientists’ thesis
that the infant only sees you as a means
to their minced meat and peaches.
You might miss the chance to mold the babe the proper way,
and through actions that unintentional,
you might create a criminal.

Don’t check for the people who declare that
babes bounce back without a scratch.
Sometimes we let our babies see actions they
won’t forget we can’t take back.

I ain’t even trying to say be perfect; you can’t do that.
But thinking twice about the language that you
use when you abuse your boyfriend might deliver the baby
from Hades.

And I ain’t saying we can be devils but I’m
saying we can be libidinal…
When we choose to sex and press the ex instead of
controlling the aspects of our natural and wrathful reflexes,
we might create some criminals.

We can’t constrain the issue to new issues;
plenty dirty tissues linger around
four gallon trash cans for teenage and
half grown men and women who were
expected to beat the statistics.

It’s not just their friends and college influences who
determine who they become physically; it’s you and me.
Me with a pen and paper and a gradebook;
you as their mother, sister, brother, mentor.

We are the Picassoes of their life’s paintings,
their Michaelangeloes.
Imagine what happens to them when
we let go.

When our standards become conditional,
we start creating criminals.

I can’t entirely be surprised that now it feels like someone’s
watching me,
plotting to get the things I work hard for,
when me and my people can’t even give the impression of
solidarity.

That’s right, when I see the madness,
I see me.

It’s not just that "you all" or "all of them" have invited our children into mayhem;
it’s me too if all I do to move the pupil is what’s in the textbook!

Any idiot can read back what the publishers print.
These kids need teachers who teach them sense!

So easy to feel like I must abide by the rules of the curriculum and
hide certain universal truths,
but let me tell you, that when we become provisional,
making lots of room for all kinds of foolishness to look sensible,
then we start making criminals…

And it may be subliminal!
Signs of their defection may be tiny and
eventual.

Maybe your boy used to go to the store and bring your change back,
and now you got to ask.
Maybe your baby girl used to believe that she was a prize and now she
wants to let it all hang out for
every pedophile’s eyes or

Maybe your sister used to be engaged in waiting for the perfect mate but now she’s
hooking up with whoever will take her…

All of this is transitional and will lead to some things criminal.

Maybe your brother used to work because he loved it;
now he’s cussed the day he was born and traded his purpose for his
paycheck.

You might can’t see him break yet,
but if money becomes his worth, he’s become worthless without purpose.

Maybe you used to love your man but
since his circumstance has changed you
seem to think of all the names of
chances that you had with this man and that.

We ain’t gone
hold our hands up now and
put ourselves out there so fast, but
these thoughts are highly seminal.
(Might lead to something criminal.)

Open your eyes to lies we tell ourselves about
the best that we can do and “it is wells” and
try to see the breadth of your true power.

We live in a world where 15,000 babies are born each hour.

Let your imprint in humanity be something original,
specially additional,
refreshingly contrite and rightly self-conceptual, unless
you plan to give your best at
making, pro-creating and perpetrating criminals.

Shedding the Newlywed Ten

As you may know, before I got married, my weight hovered between one hundred and thirty (130) and one hundred and thirty-five (135) pounds pretty steadily.

(135 when I went really heavy on the baked goods.)

About six months after I got married, I watched my weight SHOOT UP from one hundred and thirty-three (133) to one hundred and forty (140) pounds!

I became HYSTERICAL!!! My God, I thought, I'm going through a crisis!!!

What happened to me?

I'll tell you. I forgot about myself.

I forgot the things I liked to eat, and traded most of them in for things my husband and son liked for me to cook.

I forgot the kinds of exercise I liked, and traded that in for the kinds of play the family enjoyed together.

I forgot about the time I needed to meditate and traded it in for teaching my son prayer and family time.

I forgot about taking out an hour to go to the gym and used that hour (instead) to cook breakfast.

I forgot about how important it is to GOD that I remain healthy, and whole, and happy... me as an individual... NOT me as a part of a family unit.

I have had my share of issues with regard to forgetfulness, but this is probably the first (and last) time I've seen it manifest in the form of seven pounds.

Newlywed women, don't forget yourselves.

Love your man, love your children, love your family, but love yourselves honey.

You need to keep your premarital health in tact.

That's for real.

Smiling Now at 137,

TJM

The Point of Release

While I was visiting a brother-in-law, he asked me an important question:

"Where did you put your book?"

My reply was:

"The copies are at the house, still in the boxes."

Why was this true? Was it because I didn't realize I could donate the book to the library? Was it because I didn't know to take it to the Arts and Entertainment section of the local newspaper?

No; I knew full well that I was supposed to be marketing this, my first fruit of authoring. What stopped me was anxiety at the point of release.

We have all experienced this. You may have practiced a speech for weeks, but felt mortified the second you stepped on stage.

Perhaps you read stacks of books on parenting, but choked up when you actually got the baby home.

Maybe you studied for a test for a year, but when it came time to perform in the testing environment, you drew a degrading and discouraging blank.

When it came time to release what you had, what you had stored up for the exact time that you needed it, you felt stifled, choked, fearful.

I admit, this is what I felt. This is where I was.

Call it what you may: stage fright, fear of failure, etc. The bottom line is that when it came time to push what I knew would inevitably market itself, I thought twice. I wasn't ready to let go.

What are you not ready to let go of? Be for real about that.

Let that thing go. Your letting go will ultimately affect your success.

-TJM

"Escaping Huswifery"

The walls
close in
when you
can't find
nourishment
outside.

The
perfume you
used to love
smells
stink and
your
favorite TV
show is
stupid.

Your husband is
an idiot and
your kids
drive
you crazy.

Your hair
needs fixin.

Your friends are
all
happier.

Your best days
seem
gone.

Your fingernails
are always
broken.

Your mind is
always
tired.

Your hands
get
restless.

You feel a
MESS
when you are
SOLELY DEFINED
as a
housewife.

-TJM

100% Ecstatic; Yeah ;)

It's been about a week or so since I got my box of books, and I'm still making contacts to find folks who would like to read and review it.

I have not been e-mailing or calling big time celebs. I've been e-mailing and calling folks who would be into my topics: women's lib people, people who talk about indecision, people who talk about broken families, people who work in social services, etc.

It's enticing to contact the big names, but I really want this book to affect people who are around us everyday.

I want people I might actually walk by or talk to in passing to read this book.

I want you to read this book. ;)

TJM

Subject to Shipping

I suppose that one negative effect of living on an island is having to wait forever for shipments to come. I've been waiting now for about two weeks on my books to come, and guess what? They're STILL NOT HERE.

I hope you all can forgive me for not writing as much. I've put quite a few things on hold until I can resume marketing.

Best of Blessings to You and Yours,

TJM

Author Plans Her Next Move

I've been away for a while planning what to do with the first twenty-five copies of The Autobio. They should be here any day now.

I don't want to make the mistake of sending my book to big name celebrities who might never read it. I want to get the book into the hands of people who will show an everyday functional interest in the text: instructors in women's studies, specialists who study women's literature and contemporary texts, etc. These people will show interest because the subject matter will interest them.

Stay tuned. After I get the texts into the post, I'll come back and tell you how it went. ;)

Real As Ever,

TJamesMoss For Real.

The Ten-Year Drama

Did I neglect to tell you that it took me TEN YEARS to finish my first book? No; I wasn't being lazy or suffering from writer's block. There were a number of valid circumstances you should probably consider for yourself.

For one, I was deathly afraid of what readers would think of my choice of subject matter. I've never written anything that I felt 100% comfortable sharing with an audience, and I doubt any of my work will go without harsh criticism. My fear stifled me some.

In addition, my characters kept outgrowing me. I started writing when I was ten years old or so. At age ten, it is hard to accurately portray what an adult might do. It took some time for me to understand how certain characters would think or react in certain situations because I had never experienced (or even heard about) anything similar.

Lastly, sometimes it just took a few days, or months, or years, to figure out exactly where I wanted to go next. Do I want a plot twist here? Do I want an epiphany to take place here? Do I want to end tragically or comically? What is the overall goal of the story?

I would encourage anyone at a crossroads in writing to just keep going. It might take a while for you to plant your foot exactly where you want it, but don't give up.

There's still time to develop what you have began.

That's for real.

Talking about Characters

I find that the more I talk about Anita Analiza, the main character of my first novel, the more I realize how real she is to me.

As authors, we spend so much time walking around in these characters' lives, thinking about how they would think, trying to figure out how they would behave, that they become real enough to develop (somewhat) on their own.

There are a number of questions I could easily answer about Anita's personality, behaviors and thoughts. I am prepared to defend or rebuke her. She exists enough to stand as her own person.

When you write, take the time to get inside of your story and really KNOW your character. If you can't answer for him, if you can't explain him, if you can't BE him (in one sense) for your readers, your character is not complete.

Think it all the way through. Talk it out.

Breathe the fullness of your creativity. :)

The Reading Experience

I feel like my students are missing the reading experience. I just finished reading Elizabeth Kubler-Ross and David Kessler's Life Lessons, and I feel a bit transformed, renewed and refreshed. Something is different about me because I have read this book.

Are our kids getting that?

I admit that I am worried about what's happening in our classrooms. I don't often see the "look." The look that you have when an ending has left you in pieces. When the main character has failed you and ripped out a piece of your heart. When you suddenly realize that the plot has forced you to look at yourself, and you feel reprimanded, challenged, exposed...

What happened to that kind of reading?

Have we allowed mediocre passage review and surface reading skills teaching to remove the whole of experiencing reading?

Are we afraid to horrify our children, to shock them, to rebuke them, to expose them?

Yes, we want them to experience reading for entertainment. However, the power of reading is being able to observe the need for change, learn from the past and make necessary changes.

What happened to us teaching reading as reflection, as introspection?

I have made it my goal to return the reading experience to my classes, the discovery of truth, the uncovering of social ills, the reality of life.

Perhaps when we teach our children the importance of knowing what is in print, they will understand more how abstract choices become concrete realities.

There is a record of foolishness behind us. There is no reason to repeat such idiocy in the present.

Housewife Fights Freshman Fifteen

They used to say that you had to beware the "freshman fifteen" during your first year of college.

For those of you who are unaware, the freshman fifteen is the fifteen pounds that many Freshman college students GAIN because of the changes associated with newly-gained independence.

There are a mix of factors that lead to the weight gain actually, including the availability of mounds of junk and cafeteria foods, late night snacking during study sessions and change in exercise regiment, but the bottom line is that BAM! You become a sophomore and you're fifteen pounds heavier.

I would like to suggest that the same principle applies to marriage. One of my colleagues believes it's more like twenty pounds, so we'll call it the "housewife twenty."

When I was single, I ate whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. That means that I was able to maintain my own nuanced diet:

Breakfast + 2 hours = snack; snack + 1 hour = lunch; lunch + 2 hours = snack; snack + 2 hours = dinner and dessert; late-night popcorn. ;)

Now, I'm married.

My husband wants to eat at 12 noon, so he constantly fights against breakfast. My son wants to eat at 8:00 a.m. That means my waking time is thrown off, and I am forced to eat when he does. But he wants a snack at 9:30, and I can't have one until 10:00 a.m. Okay; I cheat this once. I'll have my regular lunch at 11 a.m. But wait, my husband wants to eat at noon. Maybe I should wait until then.

So, I eat at noon, way too much, because I waited too long. Hmph.

Take this unintentional binge... and multiply it times 100 days... and you're probably gonna get at least ten pounds.

What I'm doing now is reverting back to my original diet, eating at MY times despite whatever times they decide to eat. So far I've lost three of the unintended ten pounds I've gained since last year.

I feel good.

What have your experiences been with the housewife twenty?

Teaching the Right Lessons?

I was talking to teacher friend of mine yesterday about whether or not we are teaching the right lessons in our classrooms. I used to believe that teaching endurance and resilience was the key, that as long as a student had the ability to bounce back in life, he or she would be okay.

Now, I'm not so sure if endurance and resilience are enough.

What happens when your students are downright ignorant of the things they should know about?

What can you do when they don't understand the universal effects of suffering? When they don't know about the evils of human nature? When they are barely able to hold an intelligent conversation? When they don't understand what it means to submit to authority? When they have not developed the proper work habits? When they live each day with unhealthy attitudes toward money?

What should you tell them when they've become so ignorant, they don't even KNOW that they don't KNOW?

How much direct correction can a child take before he feels like a failure? And, how much pampering does a child receive before he becomes so soft that he is bound to fail in our cruel, competitive world?

Where is the balance?

Teaching the subject matter is no longer enough. I have discovered, like many teachers before me, that if the life lessons are not in place, the subject matter cannot follow.

And yes, the subject matter is secondary, because if the students cannot understand the reasons why reading, writing and math are important, they will not see any value in learning the subjects.

When I was a child, I was taught that illiteracy equaled death. Now, students live illiteracy as a way of life.

That will not do in our modern world.

I gotta teach grammar rules and test-taking strategies because kids need that stuff to survive school.

I also gotta teach social rules, world histories and the path of personal integrity because kids need that stuff to survive life.

And I've got to find the balance.

That's for real.

My Love Affair with FanStory.Com

I confess that when I joined FanStory, I did it because I desperately needed people to read my work and tell me what they thought. What better place to get such feedback than from a community of readers and writers?

And feedback I did get.

At the same time, I was instantly inundated with writing from all ages, ethnicities and walks of life. Some of the authors are the best of our time, and they are hiding right there under our noses!

If any up and coming author is interesting in joining a community of authors and reviewers, I would highly recommend FanStory.

Bonus: If you win one of the author contests, a $100 Visa gift card belongs to you.

And we can all use a $100 gift card here and there.

That's for real.

Author Part-Time

I was reading Elizabeth Kubler Ross and David Kessler's Life Lessons today, and I was faced with I question I hadn't answered yet. Am I interested in pursuing writing full time?

The answer is no. In Ross and Kessler's chapter on play, they discuss the importance of recognizing when you are turning one of your favorite hobbies into complicated, energy-exhausting work.

There is a danger that I can turn the thing I love (writing) into a daily burden, and I am not willing to do that.

As a result, I will continue to write and market, but at my own pace.

There are lots of things to do, people to meet, places to go and markets to attack, but if I attempt to swallow the elephant whole, I'm gonna hate myself for doing this... for becoming what I've always wanted to be... an author.

In the interest of maintaining balance, I may cut blogging down to three times a week so that I can use the time already set aside for blogging to podcast.

And later, I may move some other things around to accommodate for others, so that I can have some rest at the end of the day.

Everybody needs to have a break. I am 100% not exempt.

And that's for real.

No Longer Bound ;); That's Right.

I received another encouraging word today, ironically from my first physical sale. She says that she left the book lying out at home, and the babysitter sat down to read it while the baby napped. The babysitter said, “I didn’t make it to the TV. Normally I sit down to watch TV while he sleeps, but not today!”

I feel like a lack of present finance is my greatest limitation, yet, it has not truly been. I am getting the feedback I need to keep pressing on.

Another critic and literary mastermind, Shaik, read the book and said, “I expected more from you. You seem to be afraid to linger in the darker emotions. You musn’t be afraid.”

He was exactly right. I was afraid to linger in the dark spots because I didn’t want to be judged by my more conservative readers. After all, prior to this year, I would be considered more of a conservative person. I attended church four times out of the week. I didn’t dance. I didn’t change my hair. I only wore expected clothes, expected expressions. I only voiced expected thoughts. Quite frankly, I was leaning toward total social isolation.

Now, I’m a bit more “liberal” as they say. I am not afraid to be all of me, which includes writing characters that I believe are closer to reality.

Reality is pretty dark, and pretty dirty, and pretty anti-conservative.

My intention is not to encourage lewd behaviors or inappropriate lifestyles. My goal is to expose the everyday-ness of “dark” choices. The “dark side” is everywhere. The only true way to discuss “darkness” is to uncover it and add a bit of light. Aren’t I a good enough candle bearer?

And if I choose to shed light on these things, these taboo, not-talked-about things, does that make me dirty?

I used to think it would, that telling stories about true things would leave me outcast. But guess what? I was outcast while trying to fit in. SO then, I guess my greatest limitation could never be money.

My greatest limitation is my own personal fear: fear of non-acceptance, fear of judgment, fear of failure and fear and the future.

I refuse to allow my fears to limit my drive to share truth, in stories, with the world.

I refuse to allow my fear of limits to impose REAL LIMITS on my life.

I refuse to hide myself to satisfy the comfort levels of others.

And quite frankly, if I don’t sell Anita, it will be because I was too afraid of what people would say about her, what people would say about me.

I can’t go down like that, not after ten years of writing, a year of publication and whole lifetime of dreaming. I can’t just quit because of prejudice.

Neither can I quit because it doesn’t look like what I thought it would.

That’s for real.

Hardworking Author-Turned-Marketer Pursues Sales

It’s the beginning of week three, and STILL no electronic sales. In response, I am expanding my marketing strategies to include the following:

1) A Podcast

I realize that this is going to require another measure of my time each day, but even if I upload a podcast twice a week, an audio broadcast will raise interest in the topics I write about.

2) Raise Activity in Social Communities

I confess that maintaining Twitter, Facebook, Fanstory and Blog accounts is already challenging, and I’m going to add on podcasting, but there is more to be done and there are greater audiences to reach. As a result, I volley on and continue looking for communities I can join where authors and readers congregate.

3) Sell Physical Copies

Honestly, I have to wait until I get paid to buy copies I can sell by hand. I am praying that I will not lose my immediate audience before then. School is soon closing, and teachers and students are a large support group.

4) Book Clubs

I am going to submit my book to a few book clubs to see if the groups are interested in reading and discussing Anita’s character and life.

If you have any additional ideas, I am open to listening because a sister has got to get her grind on.

I can't just sit around here waiting for sales. I have to pursue them.

That’s for real.

New Author, Fledgling Sales

I made my first sale cash, way before Anita actually went on sale. No, it wasn’t a family member. ;) When I received my second physical proof, it was as perfect as I could see it ever becoming, so I loaned it to a colleague to begin reading over her break.

Two hours later, she was back.

“Oh my God…” She remarked with both shock and excitement. “That was the cleanest dirty book I’ve ever read!”

She was probably referring to the fact that the main character does a stint as a prostitute (like her mother did), but more on that later.

I felt good about her review because she was only the second person to ever read the book in its entirety, the other a great and upcoming author by the name of Joel Benn. Her compliment was enough for me to launch the book’s sale that very night.

It’s been about two weeks now, and I haven’t made ANY electronic sales.

Well, wait… let me check. ……….

As I said, I haven’t made ANY electronic sales. The preview number rises daily, and its up to fifty (minus the ten to fifteen times I went there making sure that things were in the right places). Quite frankly, I’ve got to boost my marketing strategy.

I’m thinking about starting a podcast that will chronicle the issues I discuss in Anita. In addition, I have also gone Twitter, Facebook, Fanstory and of course Blog.

We’ll see how it all works out. In the meantime, I’ll be ordering some copies I can peddle on my own. Availability is a masterful tool in the author’s arsenal.

I’ve got to do something if I’m gonna make any money.

And that’s for real.

Globetrotter Became Housewife

One thing you find out after getting married is that singleness is something you lose. Of course, married people tell you the whole time that you are single to “enjoy the season” and “thank God for what you have,” but you really don’t know what you’re gonna miss until you’ve actually begun to ENJOY singleness.

By the time I married my husband, I had driven the East coast of the USA north to south, state-hopped on the weekends, danced all night long, shopped whenever I got ready and paid $200 and up for prime seats at big-name concerts. So, when I got married, I mourned singleness some.

Just two years earlier, if I had gotten married, I probably would have believed my husband was a Godsend. I would have given him all of my worshipful thankfulness, believing that he’d saved me from some lonely oblivion. Quite frankly, I would have loved him too much.

Instead, I had achieved a personal balance when we became serious. That’s why some days, I just want him to go away.

I don’t feel bad about missing some of my freedoms because I am glad I enjoyed them. Sure, I’ve had to postpone my world tour (the one where I travel to the origins of all my favorite dances and do those dances in those locations), but I feel good that I had a world tour to postpone. I really LIVED single. I met great people, I did great things and I lived life big.

I hope you’re living your life big, married or single, because there’s no use in spending all this time on Earth and worrying yourself to death halfway through because of some silly regrets.

Big up life today, and don’t wait for somebody to save you from yourself.

That’s for real.

Broke Girl Relocated

I decided to publish The Autobiography of Anita Analiza in May of 2009 because I had to have something to do. I had just quit teaching (for the second time in four years), and I withdrew all of my retirement from the state of South Carolina, about $6000 total, just so I could say “take that” to the system and have a good time.

At the time I was in graduate school completing my M.Ed. in Education Administration, wondering what I was gonna do with my eighteen-thousand dollar experience now that I wasn’t teaching, singing in clubs on the weekends to push my music and praying every night that God would send me some sign of what I was supposed to do next.

And then, it occurred to me that I should take about $2000 and publish Anita, since—after all—she was about ten years old and there was a story that people might love to hear. What did I have to lose? My bank accounts were emptying, my bills still had to be paid, and I had to bring in some money from somewhere.

It actually took me about seven months to get a product I wanted to market, so it’s a good thing that all my destiny eggs weren’t in one basket. With some encouragement from a friend, I pulled up my roots and moved to Grand Bahama, hoping to get some rest for a couple of weeks and sort out who I wanted to be next.

It didn’t hurt that my long-distance beau (and now husband) lived on the island, and it certainly didn’t hurt that I would have my OWN PERSONAL SPACE for two weeks in paradise. So, I gave away all my work clothes, drove my 2009 customized Nissan Versa to Florida and took the Discovery across the water, one suitcase, $100.

That’s the truth. And broke as I was, my long-distance beau still decided to either help me find a job on the island as an expatriate or marry me to keep me forever. The Ministry of Education was kicking out all the immigrants, so my baby bought me a ring and we jumped the broom.

Now, here I am, working in private schools, promoting my first novel while working on three more.

And that’s for real.