Tag Archives: limited fork

Mexico Poetry Encounter

On Wednesday I go to Mexico, for the poetry encounter!

 

This is the website;

 

http://data.cultura.cdmx.gob.mx/diverso2017/

 

I will be sharing a number of video poems, among them:

 

 

1. “Hypnosis at the Bird Factory”

 

 

 

 

2. In Your Face

 

 

 

3. LFMK (Looking for my Killer), a video poam that corresponds with a collection of prose poams  of the same title :

 

 

 

expected to be published in some form, likely in 2018, by Jamii

4. The Glory Prelude

 

 

5. Bubbling 

 

 

How I would like for these events to unfold, a basic plan, not a script:

 

 

I would like to project “LFMK (Looking For My Killer) in the Math of Emotion” 
In thinking now, although once there , I may realize that a different sequence is better; how flexible may this be?
I shall conclude with “LFMK (Looking for my Killer) —on Sunday.  
I would like to open with “Hypnosis at the Bird Factory”, on Saturday.  As I like for work  to respond to the moment, how much flexibility and deviation is allowed with this plan? Once I am there, interactions themselves may demand something different from this plan, and how responsive can I be with the environment, etc.  Are not plans made to change?   It is fine with me whatever happens, equipment failure and the like.   Flexibility is a huge part of my work, responsiveness to whatever presents itself, and combining  these events into some form of new-near—coherence, as my website: 
“The Midhudson Taffy Company”  <http://www.midhudsontaffy.com/>
is supposed to exemplify, a pinnacle of interaction and collaboration, in my opinion,  of “limited forking” 
.
An awareness of life happening and a need to participate and engage in events wherever and whatever  they are around  the globe. 
A goal is connection.   
One prop I will need is a fork of any sort, plastic is fine, and this object will be a necessary part of discussing and sharing my poetic sensibilities,  and I would like to talk about the purpose of the website a little bit, in  my poetic performance and it would be helpful to be able to refer to the website. An object is necessary, so perhaps a plastic fork for all participants? (tenedor de plástico) in addition to the fork(s) that those with hands or feet of any sort already have access to.
PINK-HAIR FORKER GRYLE
I will be able to explain.  
Will there be sign language translation, someone to  help include those with such sensory deficits?  Part of the reason that I need to re-define purposes of making, a need to embrace and make meaningful to those whose senses tend to prohibit certain engagements, and often  a better way to address this is via ideas about making itself.  If I must self-define, I prefer to be called a “maker” so that what I make is less-expected… Unfettered creativity that is responsive to the many forms and varieties of existence.  This is really what I do and is at the core of of reasons that I make stuff.  The seat of my beliefs.  Sometimes I make stuff that others find  easier to call poems.  
A poam for me can just be releasing a handful of water, sand, watching how something moves or doesn’t  as interaction with environment demands, responsiveness to situations, awareness, being part of events and not merely  an observer. 
No one and nothing makes alone.
“Bubbling” on Sunday, due to its shorter length, “2:53 minutes”.
I would love for “The Glory Prelude” to be part of my presentation, but at 7:04 minutes, it would need to be part of Saturday as there is more time.  
I fear that my response could be lacking, but I am not one for whom what is planned cannot or should not deviate.  I am a maker, indeed a person, of deviation as you will see very soon now.  I cannot wait to meet all of you.
——–

 

The main poem I will be sharing is my extension of  poem written by another poet,  friend of mine for  a number of years, about 40, Bob Holman,

 

“If You See Something, Say Something,”

If You see something, say someything

Postcard of Bob’s famous poem , to which I added an amazing addition

 

 

a little poem that packs a wallop.

 

My extension of  this poem as published in “The Fiddlehead” (under the pseudonym Thomas Robert Higginson):

 

–in response to: “If you See something, Say something”

                                        –Thomas Robert Higginson

       

“If you See something, Say Something

Banana”

                      

white shadow

crescent moon

Wax (ing)

Wax banana

Wax grapes, apples

in bowls

On my mother’s dining room table

lunch

kitchen sink

I see this also

my father washing dishes

scalding water

his skin

down the drain

plates clean, heavenly,

full of banana water spots

we eat the shadows.

two of which

are my father’s

diseased lungs

yet I float on clouds

into such a clean, pure kingdom

that nothing else matters

just a banana which I eat the moment I arrive.

Buddha

in suds.

 

copyright © 2016 by Thylias Moss. Published by arrangement with the author.  All rights reserved.

 

I will post plenty of photos and updates as soon as I arrive in Mexico City!

Forecast is for rain the entire time the I am there, and impact from  Hurricane Dora:

 

https://weather.com/storms/hurricane/video/hurricane-dora-forms

https://weather.com/storms/hurricane/video/hurricane-dora-forms

 

Going to be wet and maybe wild while I am gone!

 

and about a week after I return will be performing at the Bowery Poetry Center in Manhattan!

 

Title of BPC Event:

LFMK (Looking for my Killer)

Description:

Looking for My Killer (in the math of emotion)

I will be sharing

—decadent, malicious little vignettes as delectable as string cheese, refreshingly irreverent as you digest it, perhaps also blissfully irrelevant

—pure indulgent naughtiness

—splendid, if only for the wickedness

—ghastly!  bereft of redeeming values; mocks our most esteemed institutions, even life itself

—written by the light of hellfire; dazzling touches base with the base

LFMK  is a collection of  prose poams that may see publication in 2018 at the earliest from Jamii; what a fine bit of service to the community.

Here is a photo of me:

 

 PINK-HAIR FORKER GRYLE

 

Forker Gyrl

(the one and only)

 

 

most delicious beads     I have ever sucked.

 

Somewhat reminiscent of an episode of “Designing Women”:

 

THE WOMEN OF ATLANTA -May 1, 1989
Written by: Linda Bloodworth-Thomason 
Directed by: Harry Thomason

The ladies agree to be involved in a pictorial essay on the women of Atlanta, but are soon suspicious when the photographer requests poses that are purely sexual, including putting a strand of pearls in Julia’s mouth and asking her to “ever-so-slightly suck on them” — a big mistake.

 

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BPC reading

I now have my round-trip tickets for  my flight to LaGuardia for my performance at the Bowery Poetry Club, 9 July 2017, 3:00 pm – 5:00 pm, a week after my reading in Mexico City

 

Title of BPC Event:

LFMK (Looking for my Killer)

Description:

Looking for My Killer (in the math of emotion)

I will be sharing

—decadent, malicious little vignettes as delectable as string cheese, refreshingly irreverent as you digest it, perhaps also blissfully irrelevant

—pure indulgent naughtiness

—splendid, if only for the wickedness

—ghastly!  bereft of redeeming values; mocks our most esteemed institutions, even life itself

—written by the light of hellfire; dazzling touches base with the base

LFMK  is a collection of  prose poams that may see publication in 2018 at the earliest from Jamii; what a fine bit of service to the community. 

 

https://soundcloud.com/forker-gryle/olivia-pig-falling-zone-take-three-1

MY OLIVIA PIG

My very own Olivia Pig, sitting by my printer and an extermal hard drive.

I am eager for this but l am also terrified, and there are many reasons for my fear; I cannot express them.  Whatever happens happens.

 

I have purchased my ticket.  So it is definite now.

I will do my best, and Olivia Pig will help me.

Fb event page for BPC reading: LFMK (Looking for My Killer)

At my BPC (Bowery Poetry Club) reading / performance on 9 July  at 3:30 pm, my LFMK event (Looking for My Killer in the math of emotion) in which I will share;

–decadent, malicious little vignettes as delectable as string cheese, refreshingly irreverent as you digest it, perhaps also blissfully irrelevant

–pure indulgent naughtiness

–splendid, if only for the wickedness

–ghastly! bereft of redeeming values; mocks our most esteemed institutions, even life itself

–written by the light of hellfire; touches base with the base

You can hear one of the prose poems I plan to share, “Olivia Pig Falling Zone” from my LFMK collection of prose poems that could be published in 2018 at the earliest, by Jamii, right here (of course the version to be performed aloud at the BPC will differ from this version, a sneak peek as it were):

location of “Olivia Pig Falling Zone

(https://soundcloud.com/forker-gryle/olivia-pig-falling-zone-take-three-1)

From the author of “New Kiss Horizon” [a dense parcel of Genius] and twelve other books)

$10.00 in advance / $15.00 at the door.

Tickets at: <http://www.brownpapertickets.com/ event/3014365

<https://www.facebook.com/events/1020049661463350/

 

An episode of Olivia Pig from Youtube:

and:

 

My LFMK  (Looking for my Killer) video Music composed and performed by Ansted Moss, all vocals written and performed by Thylias Moss who also made the film, captured all footage and is responsible for the text choreography):

 

 

 

Thylias Moss -BPC

 

Well, here I am, apparently ready for anything!

Online Dating and New Kiss Horizon

 

For this post, I use my former match dot com photo, and my former ok cupid photos.  

They caused quite a stir.  More than I was hoping for actually.  More than I really wanted?  No;

I wanted more; I wanted to see if it was true that I can attract attention.  I really did.  I really do.  All the time.  

“Only dating explained image from this URL: )

Online dating explained

 

My photos from online dating, (by the way, I am 63 years old, have never dieted in my life, have never had any reconstructive surgery, no cosmetic work of any kind.  I do not even wear make-up, no hair weave, extensions or wigs, WSIWYG –all the way.  I have never lied about my appearance): 

 

I self-identity as mixed race, because that is what I am, and I am not ashamed of this at all.  To be honest, I would not mind if more races mixed; for that is true interaction as long as all participating parties agree to interact; all interacting parties leave something behind, and all interacting parties take something different away, do not interact if you are not willing to change, if you must cling to what you were previously, before interacting for interacting will change you if you let it.    

 

a definition of “interaction” states: “:  mutual or reciprocal action or influence” –all interacting parties  change!  

(so stated right here: https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/interaction

 

–Sure changed me, and I am still changing.  Among the many things Thomas Robert told me, all of them wonderful, by the way, he said: “If ever I change my mind, I will tell you” –an he has said nothing to that effect.  So I believe when he say din August 2016, that he loves me–

 

(I do not feel right about online dating; maybe I will in time, but I cannot rush… I have to take my time.  I do not want to make any mistakes; I do not want to feel any pressure, especially just to have  a man not so far away as  Thomas Robert Higginson is.   I also want to be fair to all involved, especially to my own heart. I feel guilty just a bit. I do not want to feel this way, but I am also involved in the promotion of New Kiss Horizon, my most recent book to date, and I want to do justice ti that unbelievable love, and that will take time.  I have a feeling that  will still be pretty; Thomas Robert was the first man to call me that and mean it.  Not just those catcalls I often heard.  He spoke from his heart, and I am not at liberty to say right here all that Thomas Robert said to me –over many, many years –as the real man behind that name, to the real woman behind the character’s name. )

What I have come to believe via “Limited Fork Theory (and life experience, to be sure), is that much racial discrimination can and will cease when there is more acceptance of mixture.  I do not go back five or six generations, no further than my own father, and his father, both pictured here:

 

 

 

Two of the few photos with my father, I was a teenage bride; I never met my paternal  grandfather while he was alive:

 

 

Here is some info about these men and my experience with train whistles: (courtesy questions Bracken Hamlet asked me on Facebook):  

“My father, those long low moans, my father coming back to me… sounds dissolving in the air, night calls, his bounce becoming a sky. He has a long way to travel, from death and its tucking of things inside itself, called burial, but only him curling his tongue into semblance of an ichneumon fly, and that sound is the curl, chalk writing on the night sky. My father once cooked for the railroad, making slaw, his own recipe under handle of the Big Dipper, making a prayer come true, that is what I hear, my father calling me, and I answer, another train, car of his train switching onto another track, and we speak to each other in those whistles, and train treadles of heart traffic…

Warm, loved, a track itself so the trains could enter the station of my heart and join all other memories of him, whippoorwills answering me, duets and trios with scent of dogwood racing along the tracks, the frogs too, a thick froggy carpet that squishy road between homes of my southern grandmothers, one black and the other something else, oh, those platforms where I would wait for the train. My father often whistled and could sound like a train, like President Kennedy too with a yodel stuck in his throat, that’s what he said, the sound of him cutting cabbage for his slaw with the rim of a tin can as shiny as the rails themselves; that my father was rail-thin was often said, he was traveling the best way he could, those special trains, Nickel Plate and Ollie’s; one even said Saskatchewan

You know, I will always miss my father. Always. I was never spanked because of him; he did not believe in hitting; if something can be loved, you don’t hit, you love it. That is how he raised me , so unlike my mother; how different they were. I don’t think she ever hard the trains. Maybe just a screech of metal on metal, trains encountering obstruction on the tracks, circles in her mind, constricting it. Oh I also recall the magic of being in Terminal Tower when the locomotives chugged into Higbees underground, and the magicians’ smoke filled the space, overlaid more drawings on the luscious artwork, murals (that never should have been destroyed, work sewer rats could do, but I would think that even they would gag on such colorful profundity and drop like tubes of oil paint, potential usefulness squeezed out, fat gray gloves decorating the scene); smoke gushing out of the front silver plate, folded with the fold pointing out like a collar cradled in silvery recollections; this is what irons wanted to be, but not even that Rowenta came close, the steam irons would slobber on the clothes when they weren’t working properly; they wanted to be flattened for usefulness on the railroads, my paternal grandfather built them, hammer and pickaxe, Native American, Caucasian and immigrant from India, dry-land stevedore, oh, oh, oh, these memories….those murals in Terminal Tower railroad station“:

 

— Some of this deserves, warrants repeating, and some of this will pear in slightly different form in a book I am at long last writing about my father, including a scene I will have to completely  imagine since my father’s death in 1980; he got to see not one  of my books while he was alive; he never got to see his only biological grandson; he never got to see me truly happy with a man, the way I was with Thomas Robert Higginson, and I wish my father could have seen that photo of me standing beside Thomas Robert on a bridge, happiest weekend off my life so far;  (even my son who never met my father, commented that he had never seen me happy with a man before, and I know with all my heart that  true.  

 

–Must sidetrack for just a bit right here, because I was married  for forty years, and did not know the pleasure I found with Thomas Robert —  says a lot about Thomas Robert, I know, and it is not my intention to embarrass him; but when a man has achieved something as special as this, you just do not keep it to yourself, 

 

(If you want to know more, and I hope you do, then by all means read, New Kiss Horizon!

new-kiss-horizon

 

 

 

end of sidetracking, but not the end, probably never will be, of feelings for Thomas Robert Higginson)

 

 

(find out more about New Kiss Horizon here :

 

NEW KISS HORIZON LINKS:

 Link to “New Kiss Horizon” on Smashwords: 

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/683373

 Link to “New Kiss Horizon” paperback on Amazon: 

https://www.amazon.com/New-Kiss-Horizon-Thylias-Moss/dp/1540584496

 Link to “New Kiss Horizon” Kindle book on Amazon: 

https://www.amazon.com/New-Kiss-Horizon-Thylias-Moss-ebook/dp/B01N1K0PLC

 Link to Thylias Moss Amazon writer page: 

https://www.amazon.com/Thylias-Moss/e/B001JSBOQQ 

Vashtis Blog (narrator of NKH, maintaining a blog so that readers may keep in touch with developments in the character’s life beyond the book):

Vashti’s blog URL:

 https://vashtisblog.wordpress.com/)

 

 

Dear Thomas, I sure hope that you do not mind my posting in this blog a photo that said to me was pure “delight’ –that’s what I felt, also; I am standing right beside you where I belong, and you are standing right beside me where you belong, always:

THYLIAS MOSS AND BOB HOLMAN on a bridge in Chicago 2014

Vashti Astapad Warren with Thomas Robert Higginson: love in full bloom

and I am writing a scene in which my father is holding his usual study, his brothers-in-law sitting at the dining room table , table my mother still has, by the way, his lectures on the composition and location of the human soul, a bottle  of Old Mr. Boston nearby, pale in the glasses, like my skin when it sparkles (as it did when I was with Thomas, especially whenever he kissed me and I kissed him); Thomas Robert is a drinker too; they would have enjoyed each other very much, and my father would have been joyous indeed to see that I had loved someone like Thomas Robert Higginson.

 

mr-boston-brandy-logo

 

image from :http://www.liquor.com/brands/mr-boston/

 

 

Back to the business of reverie, and repetition, for all of this is true, nothing truer has ever existed:

 

You know, I will always miss my father. Always. I was never spanked because of him; he did not believe in hitting; if something can be loved, you don’t h it, you love it. That is how he raised me , so unlike my mother; how different they were. I don’t think she ever hard the trains. Maybe just a screech of metal on metal, trains encountering obstruction on the tracks, circles in her mind, constricting it. Oh I also recall the magic of being in Terminal Tower when the locomotives chugged into Higbees underground, and the magicians’ smoke filled the space, overlaid more drawings on the luscious artwork, murals (that never should have been destroyed, work sewer rats could do, but I would think that even they would gag on such colorful profundity and drop like tubes of oil paint, potential usefulness squeezed out, fat gray gloves decorating the scene); smoke gushing out of the front silver plate, folded with the fold pointing out like a collar cradled in silvery recollections; this is what irons wanted to be, but not even that Rowenta came close, the steam irons would slobber on the clothes when they weren’t working properly; they wanted to be flattened for usefulness on the railroads, my paternal grandfather built them, hammer and pickaxe, Native American, Caucasian and immigrant from India, dry-land stevedore, oh, oh, oh, these memories….those murals in Terminal Tower railroad station

 

copyright © 2017 by Thylias Moss. Published by arrangement with the author.  All rights reserved.

 

Title poem from “Wannabe”

Very happy to report that the title poem:

Wannabe Hoochie Mama Gallery of Realities’ Red Dress Code

 

wannabe_front

 

of my book: “Wannabe Hoochie Mama Gallery of Realities’ Red Dress Code

 

is now live on the Boston Review website:

(http://bostonreview.net/poetry/thylias-moss-wannabe-hoochie-mama)

 

Please enjoy! –I do.

 

 

and here is the video poem I made, wtith the same title, source of the title of the book, by the way, as this video existed before the book did:

 

 

Text from the youtube location of this video poem:

A REMIX OF EXPERIENCE that
…considers some of the poetry of existence, how ways in which things come together –how things converge in some way for some period of time are forms of poetry
(capable of overcoming barriers)

forms of poetry that occur on all scales and should be able to occur in some way in any form of reality

So this video celebrates beauty of the temporary, the limited bond of linking –of course things can and do fall apart, but such collapse does not overcome an ability to connect and build; yes –ways of meeting and the structures that meeting and interaction form

In this video: adoration of flexible framing systems of realities, adoration of patterns formed by interacting, these connections as extensions of possibilities, as kaleidoscopic symmetries (a form of fractal thinking)
(a form of system of infinitely shifting mirrors and reflections)

…a seeking of pleasing (for there are others); a search for an overwhelmingly pleasing iteration of an applied philosophical principle of Limited Fork Theory

…a necessity of looking for ways to connect and meanings of connections (none of which may be permanent) wherever they occur, in any reality, tiny or large, visible or invisible

…sometimes even stopping to make sure that what may be accessed right where you are is not as overlooked or as understudied as usual

…considers connections made right here, including the work of robertodedomenico in youtube reality (his channel: http://www.youtube.com/robertodedomenico)

the work of JohnTheMistyc (http://www.youtube.com/JohnTheMistyc)

and sounds from Strexxaudiolab –some of which are part of this video study of realities and connections and centers of existences (the Strexxaudiolab channel: http://www.youtube.com/Strexxaudiolab)

For outcomes of connections and opportunities tend to be collaborative; this video in responding to perceptions of realities is in a partnership with those realities. Each response is a perceptual remix of something noticed, something experienced; this video poam (product of act of making) explores some of what I am noticing and trying to understand about possibilities of possible realities

(including those that are possible in the quite real location called imagination –which is capable of generating and sustaining universes [on some scale for some duration of time] –universos magnificos).

Thank you for watching/reading/hearing/experiencing this work, for being willing to subject yourself to a possibility of a remixing of thinking, a remixing of perception, and than you for navigating some metaphysical traffic –some nature of realities.

This is (some of) the art that realities configure in the patterns of their interactions and intersections.

Art-full realities and art-full universes.

Window-shopping for realities; anything that exists –even lies and other forms of the imaginary– is real for being part of reality.

Realities as window-dressing.

A parade of realities

(that a system of reflections on windows of an art gallery and surrounding retail shops and restaurants
presents to someone who in observing patterns of a system of reflections becomes part of that system of reflections)

(even a parade of deeply-embedded red dresses: red dress, after red dress, after red dress –so many vivid chances for incredible tailoring)

A shuffling of what’s possible (including identities) (the hand that’s dealt) as stuff interacts (on State Street). Red Dress as perceptual illusion (illusions exist, are real) in the GALLERY OF REALITIES. Explores a flexibility of realities that allows anything to come together –on some scale, even if just for the briefest, immeasurable amount of time. As things appear to come together, here and there somewhere for some length of time (not that time must be or is best represented as length) RED appears to succeed in its pursuit of dress, and a Hoochie Mama moment occurs, is tailored (in the reality [temporarily] supportive of that reality mix): a Red Dress moves in, on, through her, or hovers (sunset remix) or remains (just) out of reach (may the devil always be just so).

That Red Dress moment is also code for extended Euphoria of Reality.
The Immersed Life.

(spoken words by Thylias Moss)

This video poem is the title of my forthcoming volume of poetry: Wannabe Hoochie Mama Gallery of Realities’ Red Dress Code”, my 11th book from Persea (details at the Persea website) http://www.perseabooks.com/detail.php…

Please enjoy this world, life, and opportunities to ba part of whatever you are part of!

I know that I am glad to be here, no matter what, loving every moment! –the delights of existence! How wonderful to be able to experience anything! 

I tell myself this every day, every hour, every minute, every second.

Trying to look my  “Hoochie Mama” best!

 

 

 

 

Where Things Are Today

love-of-life-walk-39

 

After “Wannabe Hoochie Mama Gallery of Realities’ Red Dress Code” is published at last, this week,  available on Amazon right now! my 11th book!

Don”t forget to check out my Amazon Author Page!

 

"Wannabe Hoochie Mama Gallery f Reliries" Red Dress Code

Cover of “Wannabe Hoochie Mama Gallery Of Realities’ Red Dress Code

 

Video poem of the same name, source of the title of the book:

 

I will be officially without a poetry publisher, and will need one in the future.  

 

In the meantime, please enjoy Thylias Moss reading three poems from “Wannabe” in the Poets and Writer’s podcast at this URL:

Melissa Faliveno has loaded my readings of poems from “Wannabe” here:

https://www.pw.org/content/wannabe_hoochie_mama_gallery_of_realities_red_dress_code

  1. Blue Coming
  2. The Glory Prelude
  3. Me and Bubble Went to Memphis

I hope you like them…  I do and consider them very special for various reasons.  

 

At the following URL, you may expereince “Blue Coming” as orginally published in “Colorado Reivew” in response to Bob Holman‘s “What You Can’t Understand Is Poetry Is Connected to the Body Again”:

https://muse.jhu.edu/article/586291

“Me and Bubble Went to Memphis” may also be both heard and read here at the poetry Foundation:

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/54118

origainally published in The Oregon Literary review Vol 2, no. 2 in 2007:

Thylias Moss, “Me and Bubble went to Memphis” from The Oregon Literary Review, Vol 2, No 2. Copyright © 2007 by Thylias Moss.  Reprinted by permission of Thylias Moss.

Source: 2007

You can experience aother “Higginson” poem from this new collection, in this YouTube video of me reading, “Higginson Matters in Magnificent Culture of Myopia

 

and here on Vimeo:

If you want to know why there is such an emphasis on “Moss” I canexplain that.  The reading interacted with external events affecting me on the day I read, and my poetry reveals the TRUTH, and so it did, so it does.  

Here you may experience a print version of  “The Glory Prelude” also in “Wannabe”

 

https://theoffingmag.com/poetry/glory-prelude/

and here is a video poem of the same name:

 

Also a video version of another print poem in “Wannabe” “Hypnosis at the Bird Factory”:

 

 

Since “Wannabe” is a collection of New and Selected poetry, here are  some video poems are in “Wannabe” in print versions:

 

Tornado Pi -video poem:

 

Print poem  in “Wannabe” “Tornados“: from “Rainbow Remnants on Rock Bottom Ghetto Sky”

Rainbow Remnents in Rock Bottom Ghetto Sky

Winner of the National Poetry series Open Competition

 

And from the same book, “Rainbow Remnants in Rock Bottom Ghetto Sky“, two video pieces from The United States of Poetry“an excellent film I am very proud to be part of:

 

9:08 excerpt from the poem “The Linoleum Rhumba” in Wannabe“:

also “Green Light and Gamma Ways”

in “The United States of Poetry” as “Green Light and Gamma Rays” but the actual poem form which this is an excerpt is “Green Light and Gamma Ways”, in “Wannabe” correctly:

This five-part video series was shown on PBS,

perhaps you saw  “The United States of Poetry” there, 

This print poem, “Interpretation of a Poem by Frost” (a poem with an interesting story that I will be happy to tell), is also in “Wannabe” and also appeared in “Rainbow Remnants in Rock Bottom Ghetto Sky”

may be experienced on the Poetry foundation website here:

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/47597

This poem was also “Poem of the Day” on 15 March 2015, 

and may be exeperienced here in that context:

http://livefriendie.blogspot.com/2015/03/poem-of-day-interpretation-of-poem-by.html

Ant Farm” one of my favriite poems from “Last Chance for the Tarzan Holler” (a nominee for The National Book Critics Circle Award, by the way) origiannly published in Keyon Review, vol. 20, no.1Last Chance for the Tarzan Holler

may be read here:

http://www.jstor.org/stable/4337641?seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents

I include this video of me reading poems, from a previous New and selected collection, “Small Congregations”  from Daniel Halpern and Ecco Press,

Small Congregations

Small Congregations“, new and selected poetry by Thylias Moss, a collection, noted by Harold Bloom, mentioed in his book “The Western Canon

you can find this book listed under great books at this URL:

http://sonic.net/~rteeter/grtbloom.html

no doubt not respresented in “Wannabe” because of previous litigation, but I am only speculating about that, but I am reading versions of my poems, some of which are in “Wannabe” te video is, from my time in San Diego,  at the invite of Quincy Troupe and Margaret Porter Troupe, so here it is:

 

My first scheduled reading from “Wannabe Hoochie Mama Gallery of Realities’ Red Dress Code” is scheduled for 30 November, 2016 at 7:00 pm, at Columbia University, organized by Timothy Donnelly.  Hope to see many of you there.  I will be reading “Higginson Matters in Magnificent Culture of Myopia”, no peaches this time, but, as I understand it, there will be grapes for this interactive reading, as there were at The Pulitzer Fine Arts Center; here are a few pics, some of them by Cary Ann Faye, from when my video piece, “The Glory Prelude” was on display at the Pulitzer Fine Arts Center in St. Louis, MO, from 15 April 2016 until 2 Juky 2016:

and now some video stills of “The Glory Prelude” by me:

 

Read more about this upcoming event here:

http://arts.columbia.edu/events/fall-2016/moss

Trying to also arrange a public reading while I am in Manhattan at the Bowery Poetry Club,   a place I’ve long wanted to read.  

Will post more as events become more definite.

 And as soon as I recieve my copies of “Wannabe” I will post many photos of the book!  and photos of me wth it.  A radio podcast in Ypsilanti, MI, ahould be happening in October, and I will be discussing my new book: “Wannabe

More updates coming and more photos as soon as I have them.  

Look for me on Facebook!

Twitter also.

Bad News –and Good News!

Significant progress and been made…. 

 

Draft of romance novel complete! And accepted by my editor, Jason Kirk! –there is a wonderful synopsis and everything! –he’s  sending it out to a publisher today!  

Now all I have to do is wait (I don’t mind that –good to have to wait for this, because I am convinced that this romance novel will be a book! 

 

 

 

—– 

and a bit of disturbing news on the horizon, at least I am disturbed, as the second reader, although he likes the book  — wants more concealment of his identity…

And I have just learned the truth: he has private memory of something now gone.

At least now I do not have to wonder.   I still have my best friend.  I am not  love with a “real” man at all,   but get to realize that love with my character… So I am officially alone again.  Officially unattached.  Imagine that.

 

Happy for the book, sorry for the heart.

A youtube playlist of heartbreak for dying love, the love was all mine, but now it’s dying  not the friendship, just the love affair –there isn’t one, and now the next book in the romance series will be so different from anything I imagined, now I get to write about heartbreak ( still working through e furlongs. :

and Ain’t no way Aretha Franklin:

and “Call Me” Aretha Franklin in case he ever gets back to love, and somehow those matters of proximity and distance can somehow be bridged:

 

Update

Happy to report that progress is being made on my book, my 11th book, a collection of New and Selected Poetry, September 2016, Persea (no doubt soon to be on the Persea website:

Wannabe Hoochie Mama Gallery of Realities’ Red Dress Code

(jacket copy from the book: “As if the muse of Wallace Stevens were transplanted into the body of a black-Indian, female pop-culture maven.”—Village Voice

This career-spanning volume by Thylias Moss, “a permanent American poet, canonical in the old, authentic sense” (Harold Bloom), conveys the full extent of her dazzling poetic innovations over the past thirty-five years with substantial selections from each previous collection, as well as over fifty pages of new poems.

A poet whose innovations have influenced generations of writers, Thylias Moss is a sort of taxonomist-preacher, whose profound meditation on American culture underlies and propels the dazzling lyrical and impassioned passages she writes in outraged response. This new volume gathers together substantial selections from her previous books and follows them with more than fifty pages of daring new work. Whether in early poems or more recent output, Moss make no promises of smooth sailing: even when they begin with beloved cultural icons (Robert Frost, Dr. Who, the Statue of Liberty), her poems spiral outward, insisting on new perspectives, truths, and realities―particularly of African American experience. For more than three decades, Moss has been a fearless re-inventor of poetry’s possibilities. Her New & Selected is a momentous publication by “a visionary storyteller, a major figure in contemporary American poetry” (Charles Simic).

Thylias Moss, Professor Emerita of English and Art & Design at the University of Michigan, lives in Ypsilanti.

$29.95 hardcover (CAN. $38.95) |
Territory  World | ISBN 978-0-00000-000-0
7×9 POETRY
September 2016

 

 

wannabe_front

I added “Indian” in the quote from Village Voice because I do not want to omit my father.  Such an important man to me and source of the name “Thylias”.  He didn’t name me immediately but had to wait until he met me to be sure that he was giving my the correct name, and then he created “Thylias” because he told me that “since there had never been a presence like mine in the world, I needed  a name that also hadn’t been in the world”‘

 

Calvin-tight crop 1950 copy

my father (died the year before I graduated first in the class from Oberlin College)

 

Frizzell Brasier copy

my paternal grandfather (I never met him alive; sure wish I had)

 

available for pre-order now on Amazon

Possible author photos (by Ansted Moss, photographer and filmmaker):

Red Dress Code-01Red Dress Code-03Red Dress Code-02

(I still don’t know for sure which image will be used on this book)

I am increasingly excited about this book, and really look forward to having the galleys, those indications that publication is not far off.  September! –have to have summer first, and whatever summer promises!

 Another highlight was my interview for National Poetry Month in the “Huffington Post” by Jonathan Hobratsch

And I must repeat how wonderful it was to have my video, “The Glory Prelude to a Widow Shrine System” in the Ellipsis exhibition at the Pulitzer Fine Arts Foundation, 3716 Washington Boulevard,  St. Louis, Missouri, 63108  314.754.1850  I had the pleasure of seeing Treasure Redmond at the opening of this event, and my video shared company with videos poems by John Bresland: “Mangos”, and John Lucas and Claudia Rankine, “Whiteness, INC.”  –What an honor for my work to share space with their work.   You have until 2 July to see this exhibit, and I also must add how wonderful to have my work represented with work by my favorite artist, Felix Gonzalez-Torres (“’Untitled’ (Placebo-Landscape-for Roni),” 1993) –also interactive as visitors are to take a piece of the candy that forms this installation.

Images from the poetry reading in the Pulitzer courtyard, just outside the  Ellipsis exhibit I read the poem “Higginson Matters in Magnificent Culture of Myopia” (grapes correspond to  lines in the poem , that actually refer to peaches, two peaches on the speaker’s body, and when the reader says:”when he finally lifts it electrified to his mouth,” all lift a “peach”
(in the poem, but peaches were not in season in St. Louis on 15 April, as they were when the poem was read in Detroit, MI at N’Namdi’s, so everyone lifted a grape to their mouths; for the interactive part of the reading, I lifted and bit a grape also, of course, and turns out that “grapes” were even better… more about the appropriateness of grapes when the book is actually published and when “Higginson Matters” appears this summer in “The Fiddlehead):

Art meant to be touched and consumed. 

My thanks to all at the Pulitzer who helped realize this essential part of the poem; not the same at all, loses too much meaning if this indulgence is omitted…

grapes from the pulitzerelipsis-251elipsis-260elipsis-250elipsis-248elipsis-208elipsis-216elipsis-208

 In this last photo, I am reunited with Rafia Zafar, a professor at Washington University who had been a colleague at the University of Michigan; what a pleasure it was to have this reunion, and I’m so glad she was able to attend.  Also in the photo, Aaron Coleman, former student of Rafia Zafar, who was able to inform her of my reading and the exhibit when he picked me up at the airport, and Treasure Redmond, poet, with her father — pleasure to meet both of them!

A few video stills of “The Glory Prelude to a Widow Shrine System” by Thylias Moss:

 

THE GLORY PRELUDE (to a widow shrine system)enlarged-Hi_RES_11-2THE GLORY PRELUDE (to a widow shrine system)enlarged-Hi_RES_13-1THE GLORY PRELUDE (to a widow shrine system)enlarged-Hi_RES_15-1STILL FROM MY VIDEO POAM: “THE GLORY PRELUDE TO A WIDOW SHRINE SYSTEM”

STILL FROM MY VIDEO POAM: "THE GLORY PRELUDE TO A WIDOW SHRINE SYSTEM"

STILL FROM MY VIDEO POAM: “THE GLORY PRELUDE TO A WIDOW SHRINE SYSTEM” Thylias, age five with her mother and as part of Ankor Wat, with my hair growing wildly, and part of what is natural, unstoppable growth

Piano Hair, video stilll from "The Glory Prelude"

“Toy Piano” on which “Piano Hair was both composed and performed.

THE GLORY PRELUDE (to a widow shrine system)enlarged-Hi_RES_01-3

 

Music for “The Glory Prelude“, still on exhibit through 2 July 2016, was composed and performed by Ansted Moss (as Strexx Motion Lab on YouTube), with Thylias Moss, who captured all the footage, including my mother who still hasn’t grasped that she is in this video; she would never have consented had she known, and that really is such a shame, as the video is flattering to her and other women.  

A print version of “The Glory Prelude to a Widow Shrine System” (also to be in “Wannabe Hoochie Mama Gallery  of Realities’ Red Dress Code“) may be experienced here, as it appeared in “The Offing”:

The Glory Prelude

 

Other news that I hope is exciting, it is to me, is completion of a draft of my romance novel, only completion of a draft, not acceptance for publication,  but that is coming soon! –I feel it, a book so special for many, many reasons, and I will persist until I have it right, which I may have right, now… I will hear something sooner or later.  

Yes, a romance novel about love and intimacy, the kind I dream about, and hope for every day… 376 pages; 76,086 words –I am pleased with just having written so much,  but I hope I’ve achieved quality also.  

 

Looking ahead,  I can say that the author photo for this romance novel will be taken by Tony Smith

 

I, for one,  look forward to this. 

 

As soon as I can, I will say more, but please join me in a most fabulous and, well, erotic dream system…

Thank you very much for reading this, and lets keep in touch!