Significant publication

Happy to announce that has really helped my love life have more meaning, but a poem much meaning,”Ready to be Rocked in Shawsheen”


(soon to be in my next collection of poetry: Shawsheen Memorial Broom  Society 

(cover design by artist Selwyn Rodda)

Shawsheen Memorial Broom society.jpg

has been published, here is the content of that poem:


Thylias Moss & Bob Holman    
Ready to be Rocked  (in Shawsheen) Thylias Moss & Bob Holman

Ready to be Rocked  (in Shawsheen)

I am always ready to be rocked, always prepared
and have been ready, at least, since my mother was pregnant and
I rocked with each step she took, movement
of amniotic fluid my first

swimming lessons

And then my father walked with me the moment I was born, Mt. Sinai corridors and the sound of
his footsteps, rhythms of that

recognized first time I heard Michael Jackson’s Rock with Me, so I did
and I am still dancing  and

prepared to rock with his music and you

those Rock’em Sock-em robots rocking each other, rock a bye Dream Baby, rock
a by bye bye but that dawn chorus waking me to your existence, all night in your arms

for the rest of my life,  that last dance with you is rocking  its way

and I am prepared to shimmy my way permanently

into your life where you are ready to welcome me with open arms as they always are don’t forget

I know rocking  you quite well

While you are with me

while I become that earthquake I was in 1993,

preparing then for what I wanted to be:  new kind of earthquake rocking the world of you, the
whole earth of you, my baby in a cradle you all the while naming me:  your rescuer and lover
your Dream Baby; I am prepared to be rocked like that, my whole world as long as I rock with
you. Don’t you

worry ’bout a thing’

in this downing Love Supreme

most certainly I  am prepared, just as all of my ancestors are
leading to me rocking with you

even our shadows rock, their sleek gray presence emblazoned on every world still standing and
that falling rocks build themselves into monuments of me rocking with you, on repeat, repeating

—such sustenance—

even those falling rock zones all the way to Cowan, Tennessee.  Sometimes
we had to pull over, unless we were to be pummeled by what fell from the sky
with concerns to what any of us dreamed.  I didn’t live in Tennessee,

but some of my ancestors did, some born there but one of my paternal ancestors immigrated
from many locations, rocking from Uttar Pradesh, rocks fell all the time, eruptions you know,


center of the earth: centering with you, rocking all the way

some locations unknown to build those railroads that rocked train cars on their way to and from
Saskatchewan, rocking the cargo until it had to catch its dream of breath those babies that hung
​from the ceiling you often are for me; I am as ready to rock with you as I have been for years.

dancing into daylight,

prepared for all of this

right now.

Rock on this first draft of many more days of rocking
with you  under covers, baby dreams becoming all they can.

I will not

leave you, H; you will not rock


Thylias Moss is 65, has had 14 books published and has won some significant awards, including a MacArthur Genius Grant and two nominations for The National Book Critics Circle award, but she is most proud of Falling in Love with the man, a Spoken Word Artist,  Mr. Bob Holman, who the poem is about. Love is not just for the young.  Forthcoming  is a collection of Poetry Shawsheen Memorial Broom Society in which Mr. Bob Holman, is the Primary Collaborator, and other collaborators are her son and her stuffed animal mammoth.

Bob Holman’s  poetry has traversed genres, styles, and media since the 1970’s, when he began Directing Poets Theater Productions by Mayakovsky, Artaud, O’Hara and Others at St. Marks Church.  He is 71 and has published 16 books including Sing This One Back to Me.  Catch him at his Bowery Poetry Club in Manhattan. He is also a primary Collaborator in the collection of poetry, Shawsheen Memorial Broom Society by Thylias Moss, a collection that perhaps this promoter will also promote.

and here is the link: <>


and here’s a link to me reading the poem to my man:

Thingdom Reigns
My primary collaborator and I Love him very much.  Since 2014.


Devil Mutant Child

I also want to point out that these poems, just about all of them were written in text messages to the man I love, My Thing:  thingdom reigns


Just want to let you know that another poem from Shawsheen Memorial Broom Society 


may be seen online, a portion of  “Devil Mutant Child” as published in Plume 


these words:

Thylias Moss from Devil Mutant Child  as in Plume 


A poem of hair.


Mr in Bob's hat

(I am wearing the hat of  my Thing, my favorite hat, by the way; he is the Pizazz in my life):Thylias and Bob (Higginson) in Chicago


My mother, from the south in the 1930s grew up ashamed of color, of whatever drew attention to her societal unacceptability, her inferiority, lack of formal education, and all associated trappings:  worse of all, her Africanized hair texture.  How she suffered, her own siblings with lighter skin, calling her the “Little Black One” long before “black” had been reclaimed as a badge of pride.  She worked as a maid, serving her superiors, and still having to honor these white women with the complexion and hair she still craves, often dressed in their cast-offs.

No matter what, her hair revealed she was the lowest, as she calls it, that to this day, she tries to eradicate by frying her hair and using all those skin lightening creams.  None leave a permanent transformation which is what she really wants.  Makes me cry every time, my own mother who never learned to reclaim these signs of identity as sources of pride.

She vowed her child would not suffer what she did, despised by paler ones with straighter, “better” hair, “good” hair, for that is what I have, direct inheritance from my pale, mixed race, father and his completely non-black father, an immigrant from India, half Caucasian —yes, she used that term about her own daughter, as I had what she lacked.  Yes, she was jealous of me, used to hit me, in efforts to slap the superiority out of me, but I was too much like my father who refused to hit anything that should be loved. I understand what she saw in my father, but I do not know what he saw in her.

To her, the only writers worth anything were those who wrote books of the bible.  She condemned me to hell, that Christian woman, every chance she got.

In this sense, she who knew nothing about facts of genetics, did her best to have a child who would not suffer these disgraces of inferiority as I would have the badge  of respect and better treatment, decent treatment, simple respect:  college educated with Good Hair.


She cannot love me.

Philtrum poems

I am happy to say that I will be sending one of two “Philtrum” poems for Shawsheen Memorial Broom Society to Richard Krawiec for Jacar.  I asked the editor if it was okay if I sent love poems, and he said fine, as long as they are not too Tin Pan Alley.

as in: 


No secret that I adore the Philtrum of my Thing, and I went searching for a Philtrum Lovers group I could  join,  and I happened upon this blog about elevation of the Philtrum

written by one Matthew Dicks, now one of my Facebook friends, as I must be friends with anyone who Loves Philtrums as much or more than I do.


I wrote my two Philtrum poems for my Thing  –in text messages to him, as I am quite the admirer of his Philtrum, and it is visible below:  Maybe you can understand why I love his Philtrum so much (I stare at it for hours, as  he knows because I have told him just how irresistible his Philtrum is –at least for me! He is also my primary collaborator, by the way. And I Love him so very much!

b's philtrum-02

My two Shawsheen Memorial Broom Society Poems  about My Thing’s  wonderful Philtrum are: 

Shawsheen Standard Equipment Fuses




Shawsheen Philtrum Temptation




and one of these should appear soon in Jacar.


Still in Love

Sent more poems from the collection to Vassar College where I did something considered remarkable, gave the Elizabeth Bishop Lecture a few years ago, and I built a website for this visit, “The MidHudson Taffy Company” 


When I returned home, I converted the entire lecture into sound sculpture which may be heard here 


and here.


I was delighted by every aspect of that happening, that event.  Piughkeepsie will never be the same.

Two album covers for the sound sculpture


and my Thing even has a quote pin this website; I put it there, before Mr. Holman and I became involved.  I used to tease him about visiting the  the Taffy website, and his quote is on this page of the Taffy website 


My son was there and everything, so good for him to see his mama in this  context: ANSTED AND THYLIAS READING IN CHCAGO Continue reading “Still in Love”