tichaona chinyelu
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Changing the focus of my book, as I mentioned in my previous post, also resulted in a change of landscape. For some reason, I found myself writing a story in which the dead are running things. Not in a horror type of way but more in an Afrofuturistic vein. Not sure if the ACNH fits…
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Well, after much time and effort, I have finally finished my book. The title of the book is the same as the title of this post (ACNH, for short), with the addition of Volume 1: Small Box of Words, as I hope this book becomes a series. I must say the the novel ended up…
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Abbreviated view of my balcony garden. Just as water is life, so is sticking my hands in soil. This summer, I am growing 6 chili plants, New Zealand spinach, tomatoes, borage (pictured) and red orach (a voluteer). I’ve also started seedlings for my fall garden (brassicas). Not pictured is the ginger I thought would decompose…
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Since I’ve been busy not paying attention to this blog, I have progressed beyond Writing the Bones, my previous segment on the writing of my 1st conceptual verse novel. The skeleton is solidly formed and now it’s time to put meat on the bones, so to speak. The next segment, in my progression, will be…
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World building. It recently threw me for a loop identifying that that is what I am doing with my work in progress. It also excited me but this post is not about that aspect. It threw me for a loop because I’m usually write poems that say something about my life, experiences and/or history. The…
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Flora and FaunaI wanted to bless my eyes this morningwith flora and faunaso I came in from the coldof a dream full of unrelenting rainand opened my eyes to what is customarilymy second sighting of the day:My ideological fathershot down in the Audubon ballroomwhere the only bird observed in motionwas the misappropriated eagleuntil the phoenix…
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don’t ask me how i like it cause i like it like that like lauren velez sticky sweet like honey amped like espresso diaphanous like weed smoke rock solid like ashford and simpson phosphorous like venus everlasting like ever-ready comical like cedric digging dogs like dmx diggedy diggedy like das efx between the sheets like…
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I. that sensation again the magnetic pull of ocean sediment settling on forming my skeleton the ghosts of those thrown overboard collecting melanin deposits from the atlantic’s floor sending it to me in waves giving my skeleton the skin it lacks monetaria moneta yielding up its protective shells giving me eyes of cowrie, the whites…
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. . . the Second of October, about 9 of the clock in the morning, Mr. Mavericks Negro woman came to my chamber window, and in her own Countrey language and tune sang very loud and shrill, going out to her, she used a great deal of respect toward me, and willingly would have expressed…
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Sometimes, the process of writing doesn’t require you to put pen to paper or click away at the keyboard. Sometimes, it involves sitting still on the balcony, looking at cars going where they’re going; looking at the sky and skyline; noticing the trees are an arcing line of shadow at night, scarier, almost, than the…
Tichaona Chinyelu 