Where The Brightest Minds Have The Darkest Corners
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NaPoWriMo 1:30 ~ Echoes of an Industrial Wind

by The AOMuse

oh westward facing nautilus
you post industrial shell
heir to an illegitimate body politic
chicago fathered
like a rolling stone
where shadows
go home
to die
fields that found green
too weighty a task to maintain
appear to grow brown
all
year
round
i wander
between warehouse walls
wooden plankboards
come here to hang about
with one another
upon the face of windows
riddled in disrepair
writing enigma
behind their backside
what wonders await us
in the dark corridor
of an abandoned
production floor
but no one is heading
to the west really
we are all just transients
passing through
to our next destination
sidewalks fracture
in impressionistic patterns
this tectonic shifting
of Earth
owns an artistic sensibility
all its own
pale red brick rubrics
offer this pitiful
visual assessment
of how we measure
"redevelopment"
you are a neighborhood
diagnosed schizophrenic
how else would it be
that your simple floral oasis
owns the dividing line
between the two halves
of your mind
east garfield here
west garfield there
if international history
is any predictor
of outcomes
dividing land masses
typically precedes a war
and i ain’t willing
to let this home i hate
be your economic battleground
for it still smells
of presbyterian
and mama’s angel birth
3832 w. washington
still looks like the biggest house
on the block
because it is our own
and garfield park
is still the best thing
amongst bad things
that ever came
of a wretched city
where politicians
make monarchies
the most expedient
form of governance

but the serfs
are searching
and soon come
the kings
will be swept away
in this departing
industrial wind.


Spiced Apple Walnut Delight

by The AOMuse

The Story Behind the Stomach

I am learning again to love apples.  As a child, I would go bananas over bananas; banana pudding, banana cream pie, chocolate covered frozen bananas, banana bread, banana smoothies, and on occasion banana flavored Now & Laters.  Apples were an afterthought.  They were always so plain and never seemed to change in flavor.  Only later did I learn of the incredible variety of apples that are available in the world today and the strange journey they have taken from a few wild ancestors to the 7,500 descendant cultivars that now presently exist.  Apples and I are now learning to get along just fine.

My heart of hearts still favors a room temperature Golden Delicious.  I am fast falling for the sloppy, juicy, crunchy, and snack worthy Honeycrisp.  The Fuji is a favorite of the morning oatmeal and stew pot due to my recent discovery of the Curried Apple Couscous recipe.  Granny Smith remains the best old biddy a pie ever seen.  If I had to cast a vote for the thickest and most flavorful skin, Red Delicious would top the ballot.  Ambrosia, Braeburn, Gala, McIntosh, and a vote of delight for those unnamed bitter variations that live and serve we connoisseurs of the hard cider community so well.

During childhood, one of my favorite desserts that my mother would prepare was her personal spin on the old fashioned Waldorf Salad.  Crisp sliced and peeled apples, water softened raisins, crunchy walnuts, carrots, and celery swimming with love in a bath of mayonnaise.  Some folks will wince at the mayonnaise, but believe me, it was a belly full of sumptuous.

When I first began my voyage back into the arena of cooking, one of the first dishes that I attempted was this wonderful Apple and Walnut Salad.  It was for the graduation pot luck at Jah’kaya’s school at the time, New Concept.  By the way, whatever happened to those pot lucks?  There was some good community interaction there.  I also made a taco salad for one of them which didn’t turn out well in my opinion, but still received warm reviews from other members of the community.

In any case, I do hope that you derive some enjoyment from my update to my mother’s old recipe.  I have dropped the mayonnaise in favor of Strawberry Yogurt.  Vegans can use either a soy yogurt, lime or citrus vinaigrette, or dijon mustard.  All of these substances are designed to tie the flavors of the fruits and vegetables together and can be used in greater or lesser amounts as your tastes prefer.

Ingredients

  • 4 Large Apples, chopped & cored
  • 1/3 c. Strawberry Yogurt
  • 4 1/2 c. Carrots, shredded
  • 1/2 c. Walnuts, chopped
  • 1/3 c. Raisins
  • 1 1/4 c. Celery, chopped
  • 1 tbsp. Lemon Juice
  • 1 dash All Spice
  • 1/2 c. Coconut, shredded

Directions

    1. Combine apples, carrots, walnuts, celery, & coconut in a salad bowl.
    2. Soak raisins in warm water for 10 minutes until sufficiently soft and moist.
    3. Drain & squeeze out any excess water.
    4. Combine remaining ingredients in salad bowl & toss until all items are sufficiently coated in mixture of yogurt, lemon juice, and all spice.
    5. Spice to taste.

Variations

For flavor variations, substitute Citrus Vinaigrette, Mayonnaise, Miracle Whip, Dijon Mustard, or Plain Yogurt for Strawberry Yogurt. Dried cherries may be used in place of raisins.


Curried Apple Couscous

by The AOMuse

The Story Behind The Stomach

On a particular day some time ago, I was making purchases at the Shabazz Healthy Food Hub at the close of a particular lazy shopping day.  I had come to discover on that day that I was presently maxed out on a backlog of vegetable produce and thought I would use this shopping visit to increase my spice supply and grab a few pieces of fruit while I had the opportunity.  I am a fairly lackadaisical shopper and make no qualms about throwing bread at the bottom of the bag or letting fruit, vegetables, and spices all commingle in a single container.

On this day, the apples found themselves placed close to the taco and berbere seasonings later coming to acquire their unique aroma.  As I bit into this apple, the wealth of my senses became activated.  My nose dangled on the edge of the berbere scent and my tongue danced across the sweetness of the Honey Crisp while my mind began to wonder what the two flavors would do if we locked them behind the walls of the stew pot or dutch oven.

As I am usually inclined to do when so inspired, I scoured the internet for a recipe that might pique my interest and spark my taste buds which I found at fantastic food lover’s blog 101 Cookbooks as authored by Heidi Swanson.  The concoction that follows originates from there.  I have not yet had an opportunity to attempt this recipe myself, but it received extremely high markings from my good sister Safia Rashid when she prepared it for the Rashid clan.  Perhaps I will post a follow up when I am occasioned sit down and work out the recipe for myself.

Ingredients

  • 4 tbsp. Unsalted Butter (or Butter Substitute)
  • 1 tbsp. Curry Powder
  • 1 Medium Apple, cored & chopped
  • 3 Green Onions, washed, trimmed, & thinly sliced
  • 1 c. Whole Wheat Couscous (or regular)
  • 3/4 c. Water
  • 1 tsp. Sea Salt
  • 1/2 c. Pine Nuts, toasted
  • Small handful of Mint, chopped

Directions

    1. In a large saucepan over medium-high heat add 3 tablespoons of the butter, the curry powder, and a couple generous pinches of salt, and cook for a minute or until the spices are fragrant.
    2. Stir in the chopped apples and cook for about 3 minutes, enough time for the apples to soften up a bit and absorb some of the curry.
    3. Scoop the apples from the pan and set aside in a separate bowl.
    4. In the same pan, again over medium-high heat, add the remaining tablespoon of butter.
    5. Stir in the green onions, let them soften up a bit and then add the water and salt.
    6. Bring to a boil, stir in the couscous, cover and remove from heat.
    7. Steam for 5 to 10 minutes and then use a fork to fluff up the couscous.
    8. Stir in the apples, pine nuts, and chopped mint.
    9. Season with more salt and curry powder to taste.

No Wedding, No Womb: Too Simplistic for its Own Good?

by The AOMuse

No Wedding, No Womb! (NWNW) is a movement of bloggers that have been generating considerable steam since their "day of action" (paradox) on September 22nd.  I first caught wind of this event on NPR’s Tell Me More podcast with Michel Martin where Michel interviewed the founder, Christelyn Karazin, and Hampton Psychology Chair, Linda Malone-Colon.  As I listened to the points raised during this initial broadcast, I found no real disagreement with those ideas presented and even considered myself a less than ardent supporter of such a notion.  It was only later during a discussion around a post on the Contraband Marriage blog by Tichaona Chinyelu entitled "A Hierarchy of Children?" that I became aware of the nuance of my opinion about the entire dialogue.  This shall be my first entry in what may turn out to be a series of posts on the subject of No Wedding, No Womb coordinated between myself and Tichaona as we explore the dynamic of opinions that we as men and women share as well as where we might diverge on the issue of marriage, family, and children.

I am an advocate of the traditional family structure as what I consider the strongest form in which children may be raised.  I thought this was a simple position to hold but being a man that is in this constant state of flux regarding the implications of his words, I immediately took issue with the word "traditional".  It is problematic because it too has become filled with such nuance and connotation as to be altogether useless in shorthand discussion.  Traditional is out.  Family structure?  I knew both my mother and father growing up.  I lived in Kenner City.  My father lived in Chicago.  I had a stepfather named James and a stepmother named Geneva.  There was nothing particularly "traditional" about my household(s).  I later learned that the proper term was "blended".

My current views on family were largely altered by beliefs that I developed later in life.  I was determined that these should form into the future foundation for any child of mine that they should be reared in a household where both their mother and father were fully present.  Here is where it becomes further complicated.  I have a child of 8 years in age and *gasp* I am not with her mother.  It was quite the road of travail as we journeyed with one another from the opening heights of our togetherness, to the deepest emotional slump that side of the recession, and back here to the equilibrium that has developed through the understanding that we two people are integral in the fashioning of a conscious and committed young African daughter.

Many of my immediate thoughts about the campaign were rearranged by this aforementioned dialogue which developed between myself, Tichaona, and Khadijah Ali-Coleman.  I consider myself one of those "progressive" black men.  <insert chuckle here> I am careful with assigning this quality to myself as I have also become keenly aware of the existence of Black Male Privilege and how it is inclined to color all manner of debate where it concerns an issue that has any direct effect on both men and women where blame can be code shifted from one to the other.  I strive to suppress any notions that my opinion is correct about anyone save myself.

With all of those disclaimers duly noted, I submit this for your consideration.  I agree with the concept of "No Wedding, No Womb" on the basis of the principle that it advocates.  I think that growing up in the context of a committed familial relationship holds the potential to create a healthier space for children to expand their awareness in this world.  This is as diplomatic as I can offer in the summation of a single sentence.  I don’t want to limit the scope of family by defining it specifically as "marriage" since the commingling of culture in America has given us vastly different forms of commitment to which we might adhere.  First grievance: Marriage is a problematic term given the climate of current political debate.

This issue is further complicated by the complex interweaving of systems of belief in America.  It is difficult to attack any issue of political or social importance without smashing squarely into a wall of belief that either ourselves or someone else is not willing to cross.  Therefore when the conversation amongst the twitterati and blogosphere is dissected upon the forensic table in the aftermath, you have a breakdown of the have-husbands and the have-nots, the values voters and the bleeding heart liberals, religiosity and secularism.  The same factors of division that stand in our midst in every other debate where we should probably stop attempting to promote our manner of belief and step back from the fault line where we know solutions go to die.  Second grievance: A discussion that held promise of sparking some interesting conversations at its outset has been largely hi-jacked by the moralistic minority.

The inclusion of the womb in the discussion makes this particular matter a hands off topic for myself.  I think we would do well to exclude all men from that part of the conversation on the basis that the womb is filled with linguistic, social, moral, and philosophical quandary that I don’t think we as men have truly equipped ourselves to understand outside of our privilege to control the flow and boundaries of discussion.  Therefore we have no business debating what a woman should do with their womb whether we are considering this subject or that other political lightning rod.  If this is a discussion amongst sisters regarding how they intend to resolve their problem at its root, let them discuss the womb implications first and then come retrieve us when they are ready to speak about the larger solutions for achieving parity in marriage if we discover that it is indeed one of our intended goals.  Third grievance: Close the door on sister self talk in order that no one may be accused of boastfulness, arrogance, or elitism and everyone can feel equally understood in explaining their opinion.

The founder of the movement desired to create a quick dispensation of her position by choosing a simplified term, but at this stage, we need more discussion and not less around these issues.  NWNW is too small a term to fully engage all of the issues that are to be faced by women and children in our communities.  It is moralistic shorthand that attempts to snip away at further discussion regarding the breakdown of educational spaces, the lack of supportive systems for single parenthood, and the ideal that a dysfunctional nuclear family can be far more destructive than a sustainable singular one.


NaPoWriMo 14:30 ~ Smell My Creole (For Home Again) w/Sherlita Varnado

by The AOMuse

Editor’s Note: This NaPoWriMo was co-authored with a fellow member of the Stupid Genius Brain Trust named Sherlita Varnado.  I first encountered her at a writing forum called Writer’s Unified and have been engrossed in an extensive study of the curvature of the fingers of her pen hand since that time.  I write as one long gone from the city whose heart still lives along the bank of a canal in Kenner where my brother and his friend Tavares caught an alligator garfish and lived to tell about it.  She fills in all of my foregone knowledge as one still present in the vibrancy Cajun country who still smells of Creole.

smells of
gumbo
not like
you cook

people
gumbo
brass bands
boogie
beignets
craw fish
creole
crab legs
plantation
politics
pool
halls

an aroma
that sticks
to you
and if
bottling
souvenir
scents
for the
return trip
they’d read
"made on
magazine"

stinks of
harlem
not a city
but an
abusive
bastard
known only
to us
as drunk
uncle
whom disappeared
from life
at age 7
not of sudden
death
but certain
detachment

this
odor of his
aftermath
reminds me
of a
cigar box
Aunt Donna
kept under her
couch cushion
when she told
us to go
and fetch

all we knew
was that it
made her easy

she found relaxation

while
the heart
of the city
banged
like a dilla beat

below sea level
but
bounce music
and God who
wrote the sky
uplifts the
black
community

when the rain
bleeds despondence
still there’s a
second line
uptown
in the 7th ward
9th ward
your ward
and
in my ward

Mondays
we serve
red beans
and rice
some days
in shotgun
houses
moon-bruised
fingers
redo braids

another day
mothers read
articles released
by Times-picayune

"another murder"

their eyes
explode
then
intermix with
the reds
of the sun

still
this
city
lingers
like an
off white
delta 88
never
seeming
to leave
our driveway
beyond
the week
of my
brother’s
initial
purchase
making for
convenient
outdoor
storage
and a poor
replacement
for a front
porch

we are
permanent
hangers on
like pools
of water
for 5 weeks
or more
Harry Lee
for sheriff
Louisiana
legacy
textbook
and i’m convinced
that somewhere
the Kingfish
still runs
this town

i don’t
know her
like i used to
she still
smells
of creole.

new_orleans-729255


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