Performance at Hannan Cafe in Detroit, Michigan, 16 April 2015

Oh what an evening indeed! –I’m trying to find words for what had no words! —a one of a kind — MOMENT! as a friend WHO WAS THERE! noticed,...

Fantastic performance with a very good friend and fellow poet, performer: Bob Holman

Now this is a quote, what an observer noticed, and I hope that he doesn’t mind that what he said about this event,  has found its way into my post, but both he and I were taken unaware! –the event unfolded before we knew just what was happening!

“I  did not film it; I shot pics. Had I known you would go OFF like that, I would have filmed it. I was totally unprepared for the Tina/Ike ( happy days) vibe you two had going on. It was FUCKING AWESOME”

Writer L. Bush

At the end of a wonderful evening, prepared just for me! –imagine that! –such gifts of word, poetry –felt as well as spoken…  Most, I just have to remember, as it belongs to the moment in which it was felt and believed; in which meaning pure out of those pockets of existence into a moment written out of so many moments, but those moments so true, and gifts  that existence tries to give even when it seems that we’re not especially receptive… I continue to struggle with MS –not that I want to, but I must, as MS is mine,as is poetry! –and yes; MS (multiple sclerosis (visible or not) is there; part of whatever I try to do! –and this makes, believe it or not, attempts at doing that much better, for MS cannot claim all of me! –I won’t let it…

I have never felt more loved, more included, more honored –just for existing! –just for being –lucky enough– to be forked by this life!

I will try to reconstruct as much as I can… this won’t be easy, as I was surprised by all of it! –I planned very little, except prepared a poem (a “poam“) that was experienced so differently from what was written, but matched oh so well, what was felt! –and that is so much more important… WHAT WAS FELT! — for the feeling part of life is the part I most remember, the part most important! –for by feeling, there’s a need to connect! and a source of personal meaning for me, and personal meaning is a source of my writings that mean a most to me…

Earlier that Thursday (16 April 2015), my friend told me he was looking for TUSOP, the “United States of Poetry“, a film I was in –very fortunate to be in that film! –for this part: (9:08 mother should have played the maid, and it is in this part, that I want her to realize that I do indeed value her work, for it is work without which I would have been unable to do wherever it is that I try to do now…

How simple and innocent; for his reading at the Luella Hannan Memorial Foundation (Hannan Cafe), in Detroit –I thought nothing of it! –seemed reasonable to me –his reading and his desire to show some of his work, including that film: “The United States of Poetry” –made sense to me…

But sense can so easily break down as it confronts matters of the heart, as this did, without my even being aware… And that is the beauty! –the dynamic beauty of this entire event, beauty that only I know, beauty that only I experienced in such intensity, that I still experience it.. I feel so uplifted! –this is what friends are for! –to help remind you how your presence in the world indeed matters; that there are no mistakes when it comes to trying to live a meaningful life! –and that is really all I hope that can be concluded when this life of mine concludes as it must… as it will! —Thylias Moss tried to live her life as best as she could.

His part in the evening begins as it should, quite the ordinary way…. I’m waiting for the finale of his performance, which I’m to be part of –wouldn’t say this if it were meant to be secret, but this was all public, shared with others at the Hannan Cafe, included the host: ML Liebler; I’m sitting like any other member of the audience, enjoying his performance, and expecting nothing other than his usual extraordinary, and then, he begins, of course, with clips from his current film (and a wonderful film, I might add, Language Matters, an award-winning film (as it should be, by the way)

My responses to my friend’s film, even before the film went public –his baby, his life, his major film!

I was particularly drawn to sections about Hawaii, and loved the graphics, especially those areas that integrated animated segments of stories. Loved the world turning and being made of words! –names of languages at the end.  Clouds of languages, Atmospheres of language. Loved when the stories came alive.  Regretted that there were no smells –such gorgeous locations, but I couldn’t smell those locations –indeed, no  language (tines) of smell, olfactory nuances.  Couldn’t identify locations by smell, so that sense was useless for the film.  Loved all the commentary about connections; the truth of connections, power of language.  Loved the cloud of witnesses, and ecology of consciousness.  Loved the hula of connection, and meeting under the words.  “Smells” also are tines that identify locations, that mark place, and ecologies –distinctive smells –part of how babies know their mothers and how mothers know their babies; even when other senses falter, smell can provide essential connections; all senses are “limited” etc.
I loved your film.

And “Language Matters” gave me pause to remember my own disconnect from languages of my parents, of my ancestors.  I never had an opportunity to go to school to learn, to be in a home with any of the African languages of my ancestors –I don’t even know what those languages are.  Certainly not the languages of my mothers, and not the languages of my fathers.  I didn’t grow up with the Native languages either, names of counties –that’s about it.  Born in Cuyahoga County.  Live now in Washtenaw County.  I remember  reading a book by Diane Glancy, and learning some Cherokee from that, a foreign language for me; I’m a bit jealous of those who know the language of some of my ancestors, who routinely speak those tongues, who have kept alive cultures.  Daily practice and not just dreams.  I thought of those Indian Boarding Schools where a purpose was assimilation of Native Americans into the dominant culture, a killing of those languages; at least the Cherokee Nation had a written language system, but not a language spoken in my home; even here, much cannot be traced.  Different trying to pick up something now than being raised to speak those languages, than having that life, that spirit.  Those cultures. So also a lament for being severed from ways in which my ancestors would speak. Would live.  So cut off.  My own Babel lineages.

But here I don’t consider loss of the language per se; there are still speakers of the languages of my ancestors –still possible to acquire these languages, these foreign languages, but I can’t (despite resurrections in the film) return to a time where I could be raised as a multilingual girl… I do not consider it brave to retain languages of connection, tines of connections that affect movement of body, sound, mind, heart, soul! (No hula without text, without the word, but text without hula [also thought about the book of John: “in the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God” –and biblical creation itself: language driven: “Let there be light” and there was light –words began everything]). It is survival.  Necessity.  Even my name.  Will never forget what my father told me: since a presence like mine, had never been in the world, I needed a name that hadn’t pre-existed… One of the best things he did for me, was create a name just for me: I get to define it.  Just as he defines me.
But this is getting away from your film.  Or is it? Elements of your  film pervade everything I do, everything I think, everything I am.
I was also reminded of how much the film forks –how often there were references to “tines” –yes; so much of the film was (is) all about forking (I indeed took notes).  Every connection is a tine, Bob.
Everything is still as it should be, for a surprise to be a surprise! –I suspect nothing! –I see me face, right on the screen! –9:08 a.m. –my part in “The United States of Poetry”:


–I just can’t believe it! –but is was true! –a merger of parts of me into the singular person I am, with tines reaching extending to the multi dimensions of me! –linking us, linking us,so that it’s as if I’m a singular community!
Branch connectiom
please notice how these branches connect! –I used to drive under them through them, into them, the way they touched –as if a reason for branching and tining were to connect this way! –the way the grew, in fulfillment (seemed to me) of a purpose of branding or timing –to connect something greater than yourself, more powerful than yourself in these acts of reaching, touching, connecting –power of togetherness formed by coming a prat of something else –very power of best forms of embrace, for as one entity touches another, something else is created in this touch system: there is indeed exchange! –in ideal touch systems, ideal embrace systems, entireties embracing do not remain what they were before the embrace; each gives something to the embrace, and each receives something, changing them on some scale, for some duration, and they can never be quite what they were before sharing information, and consequences could be negative –a member of this perhaps crazy “partnership” may not WANT  to change, but embrace is just that powerful!
–and I’m just thinking to myself –wow! what a precious gift this is! –and I hardly deserve it… I’m just realizing that soon, I’ll be reframing! –the finale, no less!
Hammer as performed by Thylias Moss (Forker Gryle) and Bob Holman (totally awesome poet)–as stated in a podcast : “Sing This One Back to Me: The Spoken Word
I was so fortunate to be able to perform with such a great, and funny, poet who did something wonderful by reconnecting me with the Detroit Poetry scene
and for that, I can never 
One of the best poetic days, nights, of my life! –and got to meet the fine poet who had much to say about Detroit! –theme of the night! 
(loved the Nissan Cube she was renting!)


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