If you’re a regular reader of my national African-American cultural arts column, you may have noticed that I have not been posting articles as frequently as I once did. The reason is simple enough. Having reached a certain point in the research for my current book-in-progress (at least one of them anyway) I had to reduce as many additional writing obligations as possible to fully concentrate on completion of the work. For me, this is the part of authorship when the lyrical muse sings and the creative pen dances. The greater bulk of the more rigid tasks of verification and documentation have been satisfied, and imagination may be allowed to take over the processes of narrative construction. The resulting musical flow of image and language stamp the work with its own unique identity. And its own self-defined meanings destined to merge with different readers’ interpretations of the same. The Writer and the Times I started the national African-American  cultural arts colu

“And the syndrome goes on; this is only a poem, wondering when to our senses we will come home.”      ––T.J. Reddy (from A Poem About A Syndrome) Most of the more celebrated names among African-American authors, poets, and artists are known to the world because of their association with specific cultural arts movements. The recently-deceased  Amiri Baraka has been identified as a hero of both the late 1950s Beat Movement and the 1960s and 1970s Black Arts Movement. Poets such as Gwendolyn Brooks and Sterling Brown remain renowned for their link to the Harlem Renaissance. One of the more powerful qualities of such movements is that they often inspire more creative genius than the world takes time to recognize. Or sometimes they produce creative thinkers of a type that “others” tend to fear and consequently attempt to destroy. It is possible both these scenarios may be applied to the poet, visual artist, human rights advocate, and educator known as T.J. Reddy.

( Feathers of Gold, Feathers of Silver art graphic courtesy of Bright Skylark Literary Productions ) In July 2006, I sat down to write a short simple thank you note to fellow @poets and +writers who had graciously wished me well on my birthday. To my surprise, the intended short simple note came out of my pen in the form of the following poem: ANGEL OF GRATITUDE Each, shaped from a heart divine—such is the nature of your humble wings. Love, Mercy, and Grace, sisters all, attend your wounds of silence and hope. You are the good twin and the bad. Not arrogant, but jubilant…sweet… With grief or without, your flight commands awareness of joy beyond pain.     Holy starbright of infinite heavens, for these tears––I do thank you.     Just the fact that it was a poem was the first big surprise. The second was the style in which it was written, a variation on the haiku that I had never used before. Had my muse taken on the form of an

All writers to one extent or another owe a debt of gratitude to writers in general because so much of what of we produce as authors represents a response to what we first experience as readers. Call it the yin and yang of a literary persuasion stemming from a precipitation of language and meaning that storms into our lives and then evolves to become part of the creative cycle itself.  For the complete post please click the link : Bright Skylark Literary Productions - Literary Persuasions: Book Reviews by Aberjhani