Months ago, I signed on, like the cyber-sheep that I am, for a Tumblr account. My net-guru N’Gai put me on to it. I created a page.
And then, like with myspace, Facebook and Twitter. I did nothing.
Forgot I had the account.
But so often, I have something to say that doesn’t fit in Twitter. But doesn’t deserve a full blog post.
Enter Tumblr–microblogging.
I like it. A lot.
Poetry.
Just say the word and you’ll elicit a kaleidoscope of reaction. While one person clasps her hands and swoons, another will roll his eyes so hard you think they’ll stick.
What draws people to poetry?
What makes others consider it downright revolting? How do we develop an appreciation for poetry? Why would we want to? We’ll be examining these questions and others every Sunday here at aliyasking.com, but first, let me draw you a map of my journey.
It was DC in 1997, just one year after Love Jones mainstreamed the black poetry scene. I’d grown weary of the finger-snapping, the… slow, drawling cadence of… open. mike. denizens… by the end of my freshman year of college.
Once a month, my girl Randi and I would hop on the green line and jump off at U Street to tip into a small black bistro called Mango’s and listen to work of older poets.
A girl in a two-foot-high headwrap with cowrie shells adorning her neck and wrists read about sex as a metaphor for black nationalism. A guy whose locs swung across his back like a pendulum delivered a poem about the beauty of the black queens in Southeast and Hyattsville.
The first few nights, it was magical. You could get drunk on that cadence, holding your breath for as long as a poet held a pause, remembering to breathe only after you felt lightheaded and sated.
It would be three months before I realized that many of these poems were practically interchangeable. Five months later I realized, y’know, if you’ve heard one poem about a beautiful black queen, you’ve heard ‘em all.
Within nine months, the love affair was over.
I should have known better than to have Haftime trackdown our next candidate for Yay or Nay with LilMissBrown.
Heather is young and hip and cute. So of course, all of her friends would be young and cute and hip and happening and with it and together.
Boo.
Introducing Nicole Crowder. She blogs over at thechestnutorange and lives and works in Washington DC as a photo editor. She also runs an online book club for women called Uptown Literatie with her friend Whitney. They have a weekly book review column on Clutch.com She’s also a music fiend and a foodie.
Check out Miss Thing and all her effortlessly cool chic. I hate her. Let’s see what LilMissBrown has to say about shoes from Payless and Salvation Army skirts. Hmph.
Who can edit a guest blog when this cutie has just joined the family!
Welcome to Oliver, soon to be renamed. Adopted today from the Bloomfield animal shelter.
I gotta play with my new baby. I’ll be back tomorrow. I promise.
Dear readers: how cute is he?!
So, I lost my phone the other day. (So long Blackberry! Hello i-phone!)
I know I lost my phone near the Urban Outfitters in Montclair, New Jersey. (I was on my way to buy another headband. It’s a long story. Right Lil Miss Brown?)
Anyway. So I lost my phone somewhere near Urban Outfitters. I came home and Googled the store to get the number.
I ended up on a site called Yelp, a pseudo social networking site where users post reviews on restaurants, clothing stores and anything and everything else in their area.
And that’s how I discovered Sadia B.
This is Sadia B. Stolen from her Yelp page. Sorry Sadia. I only mean the very best!
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Aliya S. King 