Word power : LOCAL AUTHOR BRENDA MOOSSY WRITES HERSELF INTO THE ANNALS OF LOCAL POETRY SCENE
Posted on Sunday, March 9, 2008
If Brenda Moossy's life story reads like a book, it's only part coincidence. The plot unfolds like it is spliced together from several books, so divergent are the tangents in her life. There are the stories about being a Lebanese-American, one that grew up in Texas and was raised Catholic. There could be a whole chapter about living in a hippie commune. And there are sad tales learned while she worked as a hospice nurse, specializing in the treatment of HIV patients when little was known about the disease except that it was deadly. She's written actual books, and she's a person local writers call a matriarch of the area's poetry scene. There are chapters that still need to be written, too, and she hopes she'll have time to get to them all.
That time is uncertain. The woman who for so long gave her time and effort to the sick in Fayetteville is now among their ranks. Now, several of her friends are trying to provide for her in her time of need. As Moossy battles inoperable lung cancer, several fellow poets have organized a benefit event to help her continue the fight. Poets from around the country will gather Saturday at Nature's Water in Fayetteville to honor their friend and fellow poet. The first draft Moossy's mother, from southern Lebanon, and her father, from northern Lebanon, moved together to the United States when both were young. Moossy was born in Texas, and after graduating from high school she began her studies at the University of Texas at Austin.
It was a fun time to be alive. It was the fall of 1967, the world still relishing in the aftermath of the Summer of Love. She discovered hippies, feminism and more. She subsequently "failed out"of college three times.
"There was too much happening on the scene [in Austin ], she said. "Consequently, I didn't go to school. "But she was learning about herself and the world.
"Things were changing," she said. "It was just an exciting time. And I was a hippie. It was great fun."
Done with school, at least temporarily, Moossy and her new friends sought to further their free-form lives elsewhere. Cheap land prices brought them to Madison County, where they formed the Blunderosa Commune near the town of Red Star.
The commune was doomed from the start. Of the original 15 members of the commune, only two had previously lived in the country. All of the tents were packed into a quarter-acre section of the land, and the tent she and her then-boyfriend shared was on top of a hill under a large tree, serving as a natural lightning rod.
The men were always drunk and women did much of the work.
"We didn't have a clue as to what we were doing," she said. It was so comical, locals would drive up to the fence just to watch the group attempt their daily activities, Moossy said.
Five months after moving to Arkansas, Moossy returned to Dallas. She started work at a psychiatric hospital, creating a career in the process. Turning a new page Moossy returned to Northwest Arkansas, this time to be a student at the University of Arkansas. Three years into her course work, her plans to attend medical school changed. After discovering she was pregnant with her son Peter, Moossy accelerated her studies to become a nurse.
In the three decades that followed, Moossy worked at several clinics throughout the area, but mostly served as a home hospice nurse. Beginning in the mid 1980 s, Moossy concentrated on patients with HIV and AIDS, a task few others were willing to attempt.
In the time preceding the research that has since disproved many myths about the disease, Moossy's job wasn't a popular one.
"We didn't know it then, but it really isn't that easy to contract," she said.
Even though she was willing to offer help, it wasn't easy. She began her work with AIDS patients before triple-drug combinations became the preferred way to treat the disease. As a result, life expectancies were short.
Still, she did what she could, helping, giving, comforting, but never offering false hope.
"You have to know someone on an intimate level," she said. "There is no room for bull ****."
Despite the inherent difficulties, Moossy enjoyed her work.
"I felt like I was doing exactly what I was supposed to," she said. Playing with words There was, and always has been, another love in Moossy's life: writing.
She completed a novel while just 18. Confident in its quality, she walked the manuscript into Grove Press in New York City for her book deal.
She can laugh now at her initial audacity - and naiveté - about the writing process. Grove Press' rejection, however, could not dissuade her creative passions. She continued to write throughout the years, finding times of proficiency and uncreativeness in equal quantities.
In the mid'80 s, about the same time she began working exclusively with AIDS patients, Moossy and several other local poets formed the Ozark Writers & Poets Collective, an organization that continues more than 20 years after its creation. Moossy is no longer active with the group, but admires what they do, she said.
The first meetings took place at the now-defunct Anna's on Dickson Street in Fayetteville. The group was quick to grow.
"We just started it at a time when people were really hungry for it," she said. "There wasn't anything like it in the area."
The organization soon established itself as a contender on the national scene. Guest poets from across the country visited the group to share their works and in the mid- ' 90 s, the group sent several slam poetry teams to national competitions.
Moossy was among those intrigued by slam poetry and was a force on the team. Moshe Newmark, owner of Fayetteville water-filtration business Nature's Water, was on several of the slam teams with Moossy.
Her influence on the local poetry community cannot be denied, Newmark said.
"She's truly an icon, as far as poetry is concerned, in Fayetteville. She brings her own literary style, but she also has a Lebanese background, and there is a wonderful flavor that comes in some of her pieces," said her colleague.
Moossy has long found that, even through she was born on American soil, there are similarities between her work and that of other Arab poets. In Arab writing, there tends to be an emphasis on rich descriptive terms and on details, she said.
"I found out I was doing that, and not even knowing it," she said.
Many of her poems have been included in collections and anthologies; others have been self-published. Much of her published work, and her writing interest, is in poetry intended for slam performances.
Because of its style, she fears some don't respect her art. It's intended to be loud and proud, yes, but there is often something more.
"The problem with performance poetry is the more contemplative pieces don't get the same attention," she said. "When you're hearing with the ear, you can miss the craft. " Unwritten chapters But her collective contributions to the local poetry scene have not been lost on those who have called her a friend throughout the years. Its the reason that fellow poets such as Newmark and Ginny Masullo are trying to give back to a person they say has given so much.
In October, just three days after Moossy smoked her last cigarette, she learned she had lung cancer. Since, it's been a constant fight. She's no longer able to work, and medical bills are piling up.
She travels often to Dallas to receive treatment on a tumor that cannot be surgically removed. Chemotherapy has already provided what doctors have told her is a "mild to moderate"reduction of the tumor.
At Saturday's benefit, poets from around the country will read and perform Moossy's works. They will also perform works they have written about Moossy. The benefit will include live music and a silent auction.
Even with all the help in the world, her prognosis remains uncertain. That no-B. S. attitude, the same one she used with many of her former patients, won't allow her to believe anything else.
"I don't know what it [cancer ] is going to mean for my future," she said. "If I believe what I read on the [Internet ], it's not going to be a long future."
There are still things to look forward to, however, such as her son and her grandchildren.
It's the waiting that is the hard part for Moossy. When reading an intense novel, she usually reads the last chapter before she's finished, just to know how things will turn out.
She wishes, in part, she could do that now, especially when this story could involve mortality.
"I'd like to know what happens," she said, her eyes bright with wonder and uncertainty "Well, maybe I don't."
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