...but I hate to talk. At least as far as general conversation is concerned. I recall when I first begin composing poetry. It was my attempt to move past the initial chatter of teaching peopel who I envisioned myself to be directly into the heart of matters. Of course, since 1990's Silver Age Hip Hop possessed the bulk of my person at the time, my subject matter was far from being a noble profession of the education my mother had sought for me amongst the quiet content of Kenner, Louisiana. It was a far cry from the early childhood my brother had spent in the much larger and looser culture that was Chicago.
When I began writing and rhyming, I found myself transformed from a shy being of less than average weight into a steadily, paced being of deft and strength...intellect and fury. I felt better and still do anytime I am on the stage. I feel a freedom that is beyond anything that I know. A clarity and a peace that was matched only by watching my daughter rise from the waters during her home birth. A place where everything is understood. A place where people might finally understand me because I hate to talk...
but I Love To Express Myself.
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