Saturday, September 19, 2009

fighting to remain centred....

funny how some things
play with
stir up
other shit....

so being unemployed
is enough to
one's ense of self

enter stage right
feelings about
your self-worth
your weight
being single
being lonely

intensely aware of my isolation
i struggle
to remain
feel whole

i miss
my circle of friends
who are like family
in new york
where the laughs were loud
the love was deep deep
and mine

for now
i'll hold on to
jerking off
maybe reach out
but definitely
hold on
this passes....

and it will.

as i go into 2009

as i go into 2009
i have realized that i need to regroup
retrace my steps
reconnect with my true friends
who are few
i will no longer long to be accepted into
circles where i do not fit
and am not wanted
i must stop wasting my hopes & invitations
on so-called colleagues & supporters
who don't show up

i will no longer wait
to lose this weight
really feel comfortable in my skin
i must unfetter
my spirit
my soul
i want to
plan to flirt
make love
maybe even be in a relationship

i'm going to always stay connected
with the real true friends
with whom i have been blessed
hold them close to my soul
defeat distance, space and time
those on this plain with me:
allen, wesley, gerard, rodryck, raquel, michael, bobby, alton, nere, makeda, jacqui
and the ones who have left me:
jaysane, richard...roger, where are you?

i am going to open my heart
let light and love in and out
open my mouth
sing, laugh, cry, speak
pick up my pen
write it
tell it
talk di tings

i am going to
"be bold, extraordinary & unapologetically successful. live out loud, laugh a lot, love fiercely & dance often!"
(c) fabian m. thomas



I realized
That I have retreated
Retreated into myself
Sought refuge
And solace
In the folds
Of my own flesh
Ever expanding
Caverns for me to
Hide in

I have become invisible
An irony
Since there is so much
Of me to see
But believe me
I am invisible
To the radars
Of desirability

I have moved into
The house of loneliness
Taken tenancy in one
Of it’s many rooms
Has seeped into my skin
Poured into my pores
Coloured my complexion
Smothered my smile
Hardened like calcium
Under my nails
But understand this

I remain social
I vary my void
With activity
Wafts of warmth
Flickers of friendship
Sparks of sex
Iotas of inclusion
That alleviate

Fade to…..

Segue into a new frame
I want to escape
I have given notice
To isolation
Stopped paying
Loneliness’ rent
I will emerge
From the recesses
Of self-induced
I am going to love
My body
Reshape it
For me
In my own time
And love it
Love hard and strong
Fuck a six-pack
And thinness
Are not synonyms

I will rejoice
In my being
My body
I’m going to
Make love
Maybe even
Fall in love
Affirm that I deserve
To be loved
I will only share
My heart with those who
Want and deserve this gift

‘cause baby I am a gift
My kisses come from my soul
Deep and long and bold
I believe in the power
Of love
The joy of sex
If I give you some
You will be blessed
And I expect to be blessed as well
I believe that making love
Having sex
Is about us
Not me or you
And yes if I come first
I’ll do my best
To ensure that you come too

Loneliness be damned
Isolation left behind
No more self-loathing
I am escaping
To limitless possibilities
Unmitigated joy
Love unequivocal
Peace indestructible
Freedom unfettered….

Fabian Thomas
January 16, 2009


Sunday, February 22, 2009

I went to see 'Doubt' with my sisters and a friend today. the movie is great, Meryl Streep is incredible, and is more than ably supported in her excellence by Phillip Seymour Hoffman and Amy Adams. but what truly resonated and stirred me was an amazing cameo-like appearance by Viola Davis as the mother of the african-american boy who Meryl Streep's character believes is being molested by Phillip Seymour Hoffman.

In addition to the sheer briliance, depth and power of Davis' performance, my chest constricted and tears washed my cheeks as i wondered how many other mothers have had this exact struggle and challenge: who simply yearn for someone, almost anyone who will love, be gentle with, support their gay child/son (even if it is a priest who may be violating him). in the face of his father's physical abuse, and possibility of killing his own son because of his 'nature', this woman came to the conclusion that this priest's alleged molestation of her child was the lesser of two evils (plus, it was "just until June"). i sat there trying to steel myself, but the emotion, pain and tears refused to be confined and had their way, they welled up and spilled was a cathartic release.

In the midst of the newest 'gays as pariahs and source of all evil' distraction that is raging in jamaica....the simple, painful struggles of gay children, adults and their families are lost, drowned out and shrouded...again....i thank Viola Davis and playwright/screenwriter/director Patrick John Shanley for this lucid and plaintive reminder.....

P.S. Viola Davis has copped a much-deserved Oscar nomination for her performance

artistic catharsis

Friday, February 27, 2009 at 7:37am

last night i choreographed an interpretive piece to be performed this sunday by one of my favourite people in the world. the process was pleasant, quick, satisfying, certain, uplifting, reassuring and healing.

we both talked about the amazing power of artistic creation and performing, the almost mythical power and force of taking music, words, emotions, moods, moments, characters and breathing, squeezing, moulding, mouthing, massaging life, energy and form into the creative process brings forth this new form, we bring forth a new part of us, an extension of our humanity and vison, we reshape and heal ourselves and hopefully move, touch and heal others.

the cathartic power of art, artistic creation and performing is monumental and magnificent!!


As I shared on my Facebook status a few weeks ago, I watched Alex Haley’s ROOTS for the first time. I’m still caught up in the magnificence of this remarkable piece of work. What an audacious, wonderful, life-affirming gift!!!
I have to say, I’m actually glad I didn’t see it when it aired in 1977, I would not have appreciated the many facets of this historical and artistic tour de force. All told, ROOTS is a reminder to never forget who we are, where we come from and the significance of our oral traditions.
I’m more than familiar with the innards of the horrendous institution of slavery, but ROOTS still struck a deep, powerful and cathartic chord, in fact several, at the core of my being. In addition to the inspiring and moving story of how Alex Haley came to write this tale, the boldness and commitment of the producers, directors, script writers, crew and network executives, the stunning work by the cast, I am in awe at the effect and response the show elicited when it was first aired. What a blessing to be part of such a powerful, life-changing project! It certainly reaffirmed my commitment to transformational performing arts and the importance of telling our stories.
I watched the entire series in 2 sittings. Then I rewatched it, listening to the commentary, including the additional anniversary DVD. I was, and am, transfixed and transported. The series moved along briskly, covering 4 generations and capturing some of the most moving and credible performances. I went through a gamut of emotions and responses: interest, elation, anger, revulsion, pain, laughter, grief, abject despair, soul-stirring joy, celebration and all-encompassing pride. I really wish Alex Haley was alive so I could thank him. This quiet, powerful man told a story, offered us a window into his life and history and left an indelible mark on the world. He is definitely one of my heroes.
Words aren’t enough to acknowledge and thank the expansive cast that took on this task. Of course, it was an extra special treat to see the amazing array of African-American/Caribbean acting royalty in one programme. I have to single out a few people: Ed Asner, Robert Reed and Sandy Duncan were great, the iconic Cicely Tyson was radiant and real as Binta Kinte, Richard Roundtree gave a surprisingly sparkling and touching performance as Sam, Olivia Cole was marvelous as Matilda, Georg Stanford Brown consummately captured the character Tom, Leslie Uggams was fiery fabulous as Kizzy, John Amos was solid, stately and spot-on as the adult Kunta Kinte, Ben Vereen lit up the screen as Chicken George, the then 19 year old newcomer LeVar Burton was luminous and exceptionally expressive as young Kunta (I’d love to meet him, I am struck and moved by his energy, aura and spirit) and our own Madge Sinclair was absolutely magnificent as Bell (I wish I had met her before she died). The performance of the whole show was Louis Gossett as Fiddler…..I’m getting goose bumps and teary-eyed just from typing this. What a stunning, flawless, nuanced and controlled crafting of the wonderful character!! What a gift! Thank you Mr. Gossett (I hope I get to hold his hand and thank him face to face one day!)
The final thought I have is that in the many places where I cried silently, sobbed audibly, smiled broadly and sighed it was as a result of the grace, nobility, reverence, truth and love with which this epic was presented.

I am forever changed……ROOTED.

Thursday, September 17, 2009


Let me start by saying that I’m a huge fan of Whitney Houston. She is one of the truly talented singers of our time, and I continue to lament her unraveling and descent. I still maintain that her first album is the best debut album I’ve ever heard.

I waited for the release of her new ‘comeback’ CD with pointed curiosity and mild hope. ‘I Look to You’ has not given me cause for celebration. I hear all these people saying she’s back with a bang and sounding great…..this is the only song I’ve heard on the CD and I’m disappointed and saddened.

Does anybody else hear on reserved, tentative, uncertain and unseasoned she sounds? There are soothing remnants of her former soulful glory, but the flame flickers weakly. I mean this is Whitney, Princess of the swelling anthem-like ballad and life-song! ‘I Look To You’ simmers, but never boils; instead it moves modesty (just above ordinary) to an anti-climactic ending. It seems clear that Sister Whitney is unable to hit those notes, sustains those riffs and belt us to a satisfied frenzy the way she used to. Understand clearly, I’m not celebrating…I’m heartbroken. I wanted her to have kick-ass comeback.

I hear she suffered a glaring voice-cracking snag on the Today show. I’m glad I didn’t see it and don’t think I want to. Here’s what I say: Whitney and her management should rethink their strategy. Folks will buy the CD in droves out of love, loyalty, yearning and plain curiosity. Be satisfied with that and don’t do any more live performances until she is in good/better voice. Her present raspiness, cracking and lame excuses (‘I was talking/being interviewed with/by Oprah for long time yesterday’) is what people will remember and not the significance of the triumph of this CD even being released after what she has survived.

That’s my 2 cents!

P.S. Heard another track after writing this. No reason to change a word….