I connected with singer-songwriter and poet Nhojj through my friend John Ollom, the movement artist. Raised in Guyana and Trinidad, Nhojj has recorded 7 studio albums and published 3 books. Winner of 4 Outmusic awards, Nhojj has shared stages with Norah Jones, Regina Belle and Estelle. Nhojj views his art as multidimensional healing spaces where audiences can experience themselves through the eyes of acceptance and love.

He filmed this adorable gay wedding with two Ken dolls, set to his original song “Faithful”:

Nhojj has kindly allowed me to reprint two of his poems below.

Ritual of Dance…

I
Dance at
Night on a basement floor
Music
Pounding
Tribal vibrations
Sounding
Sweet on my taste buds
Soca
Beats provoke my waist
Flood of
Sweat
Drips down
Body strips down towels wait
Behind the door cause
I aim to leave it all on this homemade
Dance floor

This house hypnotizes
This afro symphony baptizes
Me by the silk cotton tree
Spirits arise & walk in
Moonlight… fireflies
Reggae lullabies
Djembe drum sanctifies
Our dun dun purifies

Eyes closed
Chest exposed
Arms flailing…remake me
Voices wailing…remix me
Feet stomping…rewind me
Speakers thumping…replay me
Over & over & over again…
Gods of Jouvet
Voices
Chanting rhythms
Visions speaking in tongues
Lyrical phenomenons
Spirit of Shango
Magic
Lightning & thunder
Beneath my feet

Turn the dial left…
Left for…
Higher bandwidths
Higher frequencies
Higher planes

Villages of ancestral domains
Calling forth the rains
Come forth
Come now
Fall down &
Water this parched earth
With…

P
E
A
C
E

****

Cherish Yourself

She didn’t notice me at first, but then I turned, and the light bounced off my being, getting stuck in her vision like a speck of dust. Her eyes narrowed, recognizing something familiar… something distasteful.

Of course this wasn’t the first time. There had been many before her, mostly boys in men’s clothing, with that look of recognition in their eyes, trying desperately to erase this thing inside me. They’d used every trick in their books, teaching lessons they’d been taught about what was right and who was wrong.

This time it only took me 3 years… 3 years to feel my fingers and toes again… 3 years below ground to feel my heart beating… wildly at first, then more evenly, with each new breath. 3 years for me to remember my light, always recognized, would not always be cherished.

So now, every day as sun rises, bending light and shadow round table and chair, I write in my journal, read books from the shelf, and recite the words “cherish yourself”.