Tamara J. Madison

I have been crazy busy.  That’s what I call it.  I try not to say “too busy.”  I try to remember that this is the life that I asked for years ago, a life filled with art, poetry, music, and…

I have a few things simmering on back burners in my life.  The heat is low, no kettle whistle or rattling vent.  When I say “back burner” here, I am thinking of things in my life that I need to…

Poets are not birthed into the world by mere mystery and magic, they are inspired and nurtured.  I am the poet I am because of my gifts but equally because of the love and support that I have received over…

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Every teacher needs a teacher.  I had the blessing of talking to one of my greatest teachers this morning.  As a green, naive, angry, fierce young poet in my twenties in Chicago, I was…

Welcome to TamTalk!!!

TamTalk!!! is my personal blog where I would also love to hear back from you!  I will post about once a month or as often as I can. 

I am a writer/poet/performer who believes that the arts…

I had an interesting conversation with a fellow writer who was extremely frustrated with her work.  I have been there many times as a writer and have abandoned my work for days, weeks, even months at a time.  I have…

     I gotta new ‘do, looking pretty cute these days, smelling myself as some of my elders used to say.  I am hopping out of bed with more energy, playing in my closet, thumbing through textures and colors to create my…

Dear Ms. Oprah Winfrey,

     Happy Sunday to you from sunny Orlando, Florida! I just read where you featured United States Poet Laureate Joy Harjo on Super Soul Sunday.  I look forward to seeing it.  I am glad and very…

     “Gratitude” has become a popular catch phrase these days for social media posts, journal entries, new age living, life coaching, and even for marketing campaigns. It’s catchy, cute, perhaps even profitable in some cases. But saying “thank you” and showing…

     I needed an affordable getaway! I was looking for something that was not a part of my family or work roles and responsibilities.  Yes, I wanted some productive “me time.”  I also wanted to challenge myself to read more for…

     As excited as I was when I bought it, I had to struggle to read this book the color of a period napkin with rope and knots on the cover and bold white lettering, A BOUND WOMAN IS A DANGEROUS…

Brown sugar and cayenne,

Intertwined harmonies of violin and viola,

Winding willow and rooted oak,

Neck jerk, sassy smirk, and mile-wide smiles,

Melodic soul, metaphorical role,

Finger pop, hand pat, hip bump and juicy…

I am posting this as a special request from one of my students.  Thank you, Andrea, for asking me.

The following is a poem that I use in my poetry classes to introduce poetry as storytelling.  It is one of…

     I remember the red and black Atlantic Record’s label and the forty fives that my parents kept in the floor model stereo.  I remember putting on a stack of records and hearing something in this voice that I just had…

     Most often we think of an error or something else negative as slipping through the cracks.  We talk about clean up work to clear and clean the dust and dirt that often falls through the cracks.  We even talk about…

            I am blessed to be celebrating the announcement of my first major publication, Threed, This Road Not Damascus, forthcoming spring 2019 from Trio House Press.  I have worked and waited and worked some more a long time for…

Muck, mire, memes, madness, slander, insults, and injury…  It had become way too much noise for me.  Social media and much of the media was filled with so much personal and political chaos that I needed to shut down for…

On January 29, 2016, I appeared as the guest speaker for the Annual Book Fair sponsored by The Soul Writers Guild at The Evansville African American Museum in Evansville, IN.  The following day, I was invited to facilitate a writers…

Like most folks, I have been thinking about the things that I want to see happen this year:  where I want to go, what I want to do, how I want to grow, etc.

“I keep asking, why me?” 

That was his next question after asking me if I went to church, believed in God or could possibly understand the whirlwind of madness that was rocking his world most recently.  The death of his…