a good morning-those first real blooms

Posted on April 12, 2017April 12, 2017 by admin

public art work-Bed-Stuy

This morning was a pretty one–sun shining, warm. Storefronts on Fulton closed until the shopkeepers open them up. Folks clustered at bus stops on their way to work. Many people smiling because sun was shining and it was warm.

Brooklyn is loudly branded as a place for hip White people and hip Black people and occasionally others are mentioned. But it is a place for ordinary people who get up in the morning and go to work in banks’ back offices; for the MTA; clerks at Macy’s or Bloomingdales or in the countless restaurants, bars,hotels, sports centers, juice joints, etc. that make up the “hospitality industry”, and a few work in fashion or media. Paychecks, bills, families,rent or mortgages to pay. So a warm Wednesday morning was most welcome. In Whitman’s prologue to Leave of Grass he catalogues jobs Americans do (did) and it is good that he did. We have a record of those jobs. We have a picture of the people who made their living. We now do some of what they did: we serve food or perform in theaters or exchange money.

Today, the Poetry Foundation posted my essay in the Harriet blog: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2017/04/colloquy-1-words-on-freedom-confusion-resistance-poetry/

and I hope people read my work. I am glad to be part of that industrious mix all the way from Brooklyn.

The cold, then warm, then cold weather is making our green and blooming friends most unhappy–they just want to bloom and get on with it and a few hearty blooms are fighting for show and a flowering tree across the street from a row of daffodils –we all want Spring. Even the plants are working hard.

the only tree flowering

corner yard, Bed-Stuy

purple salutes the green

brash and bold–Giants go home, June 4, 2016

Posted on June 5, 2016June 5, 2016 by admin

What a strange day– Muhammed Ali’s death while not unexpected is unsettling–it is as if the heavens are demanding the giants return and so one by one they return. that even Soul Cycle had a sign saying RIP says how large Ali loomed over the collective consciousness.

Tribute sign, SoHo

I saw him once in 1970 when as a college student I went to a Black Expressions conference in Indiana. He was just about to get back his position-he had been stripped of his championship–and he was speaking at the conference. He was magnetic, unbelievably handsome (yes that pretty) and I’ve never seen men so lit up by any other man. They had grown up with brash, bold “poet” who had innovated boxing. Truly he was the alpha male. And he loved being one.
Ali was no saint. His cruelty towards Joe Frazier was awful and there were always rumors about his womanizing. But he was deeply principled and his stance against the War in Viet nam led to his conviction of draft dodging and the loss of his title–this when he was 25 years old. He will be forever a symbol of what it means to be brash, bold, gorgeous, but also spiritual and moral and deeply principled who could come back and triumph again.

So, considering Ali’s joining the ancestors, I returned from a venture into Manhattan which more and more seems like Fantasyland for White people (mostly) and global tourists, it was odd to encounter another moment of audacious sadness.

Here in Bed-Stuy, Spike Lee has organized a Prince born day party at Bed-Stuy Plaza. Many people in purple t-shirts were celebrating Prince’s born day, even as we all digest the news that he died from an opiod–how Midwestern. The irony of my book title Painkiller is that every time I’ve been prescribed them, I throw away 90% of the pills and believe me I hate pain. Clearly Prince pushed his body beyond what his 57 year old self should do and his body gave it up. And Ali’s Parkinson came from the great feats he did as a boxer. Both men were bold and it is a combination of boldness and spirituality that marks them.

There are plenty of bold guys right now, but they seem so extraordinarily empty–their boldness, their in your faceness, their twitter feeds do not add up to anything that literally changes the way a sport is played or music created/produced–they don’t invent, they just shift things from one side of the room to the other. Prince was intensely creative in ways that many are still trying to come to terms with. Moreover, he explored in real time a range of ways to be masculine that few even dared to try–only Bowie strikes me as being that openly fluid, but then again he was white and British. Prince’s passing was not expected, he was still a “young” i.e. middle-aged man. Maybe that is why Ali’s passing is unsettling. He lived a life filled with innovation in his sport; a powerful spiritual journey; a deep love of Black people; and the ability to learn from his many mistakes and finally the ability to sustain family. His essence was strong and it was that essence that could take him around the globe, always Muhammed Ali. ‪#‎boldandbrash‬

Half -moon blues

Posted on July 24, 2015July 24, 2015 by admin

Last night I sat on my neighbor’s stoop. She is a retired nurse. The sky was clear. The moon half-full and both of us were both furll of anguish and rage. She said “I can’t watch the news, this story” and then we discussed what most likely happened to Sandra Bland. My neighbor could have been Ms. Bland. So could I. The video of the State Trooper’s “arrest” of Ms. Bland is horrifying. “There was no reason, no reason” my neighbor muttered. “And he kept saying put down your cell phone”. That video shows male rage at its most naked. Had that trooper written the ticket and walked away, Ms. Bland would be either paying a fine or disputing the ticket. She’s dead. We sat there and just marveled at our own “luck.”

Macon Street roses, Bed-Stuy

on recent curation–WORDS SUNDAY

Posted on June 15, 2015June 15, 2015 by admin

One of the best things about being a poet is that I am also a reader and a listener. And like many other readers and listeners, when given the opportunity, I enjoy organizing readings. Atim Oton, an entrepreneur and in her own way community activist decided to open a “Pop Up” of her store, Calabar Imports, in Bed-Stuy near my home. So I took the opportunity to create WORDS SUNDAY. A Fall Schedule ended with a great reading by Gregory Pardlo from his brilliant second collection, Digest which recently won the Pulitzer Prize and Alexis De Veaux who’s amazing career includes poetry, fiction collections, and an important biography of Audre Lorde. The Spring events started with younger, emerging poets Terence Degnan and Soraya Shalforoosh. Soraya, while volunteering with Four Ways Books asked me to read for their series a week before 9-11. Poets are elephants, we remember especially the kindnesses of our colleagues. And the final event in June included Janice Lowe, who I asked to start the entire series; Tai Allen and Ekere Tallie–they were lively and we had a great conversation about the continuing influence of the Black Arts Movement. I am proud of my work as a curator and hope to do more of this part of my work. Some pictures from WORDS SUNDAY, Calabar Imports Bed-Stuy Pop-up Brooklyn New York.

Chat with Gregory Pardlo and Alexis De Veaux November 2014

Renato Rosaldo and Patricia Spears Jones chatting

Words Sunday, March 2015

June 7 event-first one w/ three readers. Janice Lowe was joined by Meredith Wright and Yahann, musicians and singers

Scorpion to Horse–November

Posted on December 8, 2014December 8, 2014 by admin

November was an amazing month. I organized and curated a literary program at Calabar Imports in Bed-Stuy on Tompkins Avenue, which received some local press. http://www.bkmag.com/2014/11/04/crossing-border-in-the-brooklyn-literary-scene-with-poet-patricia-spears-jones/

Q&A w/ poets

What was great to me was that each Sunday different voices brightened an already very colorful space. Janice Lowe and her actor friends performed a variety of pieces that she has written words or music or both for. Uche Nduka showcased how cosmopolitan African writers often are. Michael Broder and Rachel Levitsky called their event the “queer Jewish poets” reading. Cheryl Boyce Taylor and Jason Schneiderman opened up about grief and writing doing the Q&A and on November 30 was simply sublime. Alexis De Veaux and Gregory Pardlo read from their new works which are brilliant and the Q&A gave great insight into their process. I was so pleased to do this. And so grateful for their words.

I also read with Monica De La Torre at Pace University and Charles North’s introductions for both of us was beautifully crafted. and I really loved being a Brooklyn Poet of the Week. http://brooklynpoets.org/poet/patricia-spears-jones/. Thanks to Jason Koo, et al. And I led a great workshop at Poets House–one of my students is a budding rapper.

All of these great things are back drop to the the awful events in the past two weeks of November–Thanksgiving was difficult for people across the U.S. While I did not think Darren Wilson would be indicted since it was clear that the apparatus for organized to get a non-indictment. But the lack of indictment of NYPD officers for the death of Eric Garner was even more enraging. So with that I am so thankful for the PROTESTS that started in Ferguson and have been led by young people. And that close to 200 protests took place after the non-indictment in Missouri and the hundreds of protests around the globe after the Staten Island decision is so powerful #BLACKLIVESMATTER as a hashtag reminds everyone that all lives matter, but when Black lives are so easily destroyed believe you mean everyone’s life is in jeopardy. The militarized police; the corporate character of political leadership; the refusal to legislate immigration reform; the continuing destruction of public education and the recent election of the White Privilege Party aka the Republicans will make the next two years extremely challenging. But poets have been up to the challenge. On Facebook, Artists Against Police Brutality/Cultures of Violence have been really useful stitching together many different policies, programs, events and reportage. In the twittersphere,much is being done.

As a Black Poet, I’ve written about the live of ordinary people for years and every once in a while an ordinary person is killed in ways that should never have happened. Michael Brown, Eric Garner, Tamir Rice, Trayvon Martin and countless other boys, men, girls and women should be breathing. Albert Murray would have something pithy about all of this, but one thing he would most likely agree with me: We have much to do in this nation and “trusting” the police is not one of those things.

Albert Murray projected photo by Patricia S. Jones

summer blessings and borders

Posted on July 4, 2014July 4, 2014 by admin

This is a summer that is truly a summer. The weather in late June seemed to as beautiful as the world’s activities grew more violent, volatile. Something says to me the Creator is working overtime to provide humans relief for bad human activity–at the borders of the US and Mexico; Israel and Palestine; Nigeria and Chad–borders where children give them selves up; where children are kidnapped and murdered; where children are kidnapped, sold or murdered. Borders where evil weaves a ugly web of lies, brutality, fear. So to wake up for several days to bright sunshine and little humidity in Brooklyn–to roses blooming, birds singing, dogs being walked. To wake up fairly healthy with things to do; students to teach; people to see; food to eat and wine to drink is to have many blessings placed upon me. But all blessings are provisional. So are the bad human activity. Should we be Iraq? Should we help Nigeria find stolen girls? Should we reduce our energy use so that fracking, etc. was not so profitable? or is the phrase: “Could we”? It is July 4th. It is rainy and quiet. My brother is staying home, mowing his backyard; my sister in Arkansas is planning her church work and planning to see friends. My eldest nephew is probably working overtime in a high end hotel in Dallas. My nephews and nieces are eating barbecue and watching videos. in Texas and Tennessee. We are a small family spread around the U.S. We are also feeling the loss of my mother who this year last year was still alive. Still engaged in the world of the living, but shutting down. Later somebody in Bed-Stuy will attempt to show off the illegal fireworks bought most likely in Pennsylvania. As a Southerner, I understand crossroads. But borders. Borders are places of deep terror. Borders are where too many children are lost.