Dorothy Loved Bennie

"Dorothy loved Bennie" This is the first line of my poem "Dorothy's Loves", found in my poetry book, Sensual Sounds. Dorothy and Bennie Eanes were my parents. Long before love among African-Americans became the subject of various blogs, talks shows, articles, etc., I witnessed it firsthand for 25 years.

My parents were my first role models of what family, love and respect were within a family structure. Mom and Dad married after a whirlwind, four-month courtship. She was 24 and he 21. I was born the following year. Three sons were born in 11 years.

Everyone who knew my parents always remember little things, like rarely seeing one without the other. Or how my mother was more outgoing, while Dad was more reserved. But there was never a question of how much they loved and supported each other. Mom graduated from college in six years after giving birth to two babies along the way. Dad realized his dream of owning real estate. Both stressed their accomplishments were family achievements. So much more fills my heart as I write this. Like Dad reading bedtime stories or Mom's love of cooking. They weren't perfect. But seeing love and marriage in its many forms is a gift I'll forever cherish.

October 28 is my parents' wedding anniversary. How I long to send a card, take them to dinner or spend the day with them. But Dad was 45 and Mom 51 when death united the newlyweds. Being part of the inspiration for Sensual Sounds is a part of the legacy I have from Bennie and Dorothy. So I'll light a candle, say a prayer and thank God for my memories.

Sensual Sounds is available on http://barnesandnoble.com and http://www.amazon.com.

Flying Without A Net

"Faith is the sunstance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen." That Bible verse has kept me afloat many days. It could also be the theme of my Sensual Sounds book tour to the Philadelphia/ New York area a few weeks ago. If you read my last blog, I traveled on the prayers of those warriors who reminded me that being an author isn't all about the money. They were right. I borrowed my way to the East coast. It didn't do much for my self-esteem to ask for money to make this trip. The stress of figuring out how to pay everyone back is something I'm wrestling with as I write this. But the riches I received are immeasurable. I felt blessed when my friends and me joyously greeted one another. It was so much fun to surprise my friend Patrick when Amy and me traveled to Native Restaurant in Harlem to support him as the host of Kariokee Night. Antonio, a friend I hadn't seen since childhood, made me feel safe the minute he hugged me. I felt so welcomed in his home during the time we spent together. My greatest pleasure, however, was sharing Sensual Sounds with those who stopped by my table at Horizon Books. My goal was to sell all the books I had in my bag which would've helped me pay off those loans. God had other plans. I sold only one book. But the intimate connection I felt in reading my words to strangers literally stood next to hear me read my poems is the reason why I can't waste my gift. I choked with emotion when an elderly Jewish man, who was moved to tears by one of my poems, told me stories of how helpless he felt when witnessing the indignities his African-American friends endured in during segregation. I also received much encouragement from those who couldn't afford to buy a book that day. Yes, I came home with less money than planned. But money doesn't buy everything. The intangible gifts I received from this trip has given me the strength to keep me walking in faith, not sight.