Category Archives: Performing Arts

A Song of August Wilson or The Lion’s Roar, Parts 1, 2 and 3.

Posted on October 15, 2011 by Ayodele Nzinga, MFA, PhD

There is no return from this baptism by Wilson. Nothing will ever be the same again. I have been caught by the piper. I follow the roar of the lion.
Continue reading →

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In the Valley

Posted on October 15, 2011 by Ayodele Nzinga, MFA, PhD

I am of the Valley. It is my home. That hard spot next to the rock is my reference point. It is from this point I greet the sun and the things that walk in my night. It is from this perspective that I tilt my head to capture the sound of God’s voice. It is from this vantage point I strive for justice. Continue reading →

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The Lower Bottom Playaz; Full Metal

Posted on June 16, 2011 by Ayodele Nzinga, MFA, PhD

Bullets are usually made of lead. If you cover a lead bullet with copper you get a Full Metal Jacket; an armor piercing projectile. It is our intention to wound you with art. You will leave feeling something. You  will be moved . … Continue reading →

Posted in Black Arts, Craft, INK, journal, Life., North American African Perspective, Performing Arts, Poetry, spokenword, Theater, work in progress | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Canon – (From the collection INK)

Posted on May 11, 2011 by Ayodele Nzinga, MFA, PhD

 in the bosom smelling like milk knowing this is as close to the honey as they gonna let you get it’s bitter to the taste inside the house walking on the bones somebody write this story tell what it cost … Continue reading →

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Inked (From the collection INK)

Posted on April 27, 2011 by Ayodele Nzinga, MFA, PhD

he had a tattoo tear it didn’t mean now what it meant then it weighed less or more  it was a piece of fire now it burned beneath his eye announcing he had been Abel to be Cain the set … Continue reading →

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INK

Posted on April 22, 2011 by Ayodele Nzinga, MFA, PhD

. it don’t signify

like blue black wrinkled old men

in stingy brims

teeth clenching 5 dollar cigars

breath smelling of gin and knowing

from a distance

whose eyes grin

as they eloquently explode

divine curses

like corks from aged wine

you gotta shake ya head

so it don’t hit ya Continue reading →

Posted in INK, North American African Perspective, Performing Arts, Poetry, spokenword, Uncategorized, work in progress | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Sans Ports– (General Poetics 2011)

Posted on February 8, 2011 by Ayodele Nzinga, MFA, PhD

learning to write after newports— one word at a time like the coffin I was building one smoke at a time u can’t have my rhymes quit to flow on learning after smoking is a long slow curve like the … Continue reading →

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That New Millennium Dime, Money, Installment 17

Posted on December 23, 2010 by Ayodele Nzinga, MFA, PhD

/money/ man made/not god given/god gives/man sells/ cant own nothing/didnt bring nothing with him/cant take nothing with him/god gave/god gave nature/nature gives/man sells/cant take nothing with him/not even the money/man made/ u only take what u brought /cant take the … Continue reading →

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That New Millennium Dime: i, Installment # 16

Posted on December 23, 2010 by Ayodele Nzinga, MFA, PhD

i am the she/ & shes the builder/ reformed once lost/now seeking found/i say dont scratch too deep/you might be frighten by what you see/i see forever/it makes me cry/i remember to try/i been known to stumble/i seen i fall/i found clarity … Continue reading →

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Diary of a Mad Creative # 19: Precious and the State of the Arts (pt. 2 of The Ground on which I stand.)

Posted on December 11, 2010 by Ayodele Nzinga, MFA, PhD

“If you do not know, I will tell you that black theatre in America is alive … it is vibrant … it is vital … it just isn’t funded. Black theatre doesn’t share in the economics that would allow it to support its artists and supply them with meaningful avenues to develop their talent and broadcast and disseminate ideas crucial to its growth. The economics are reserved as privilege to the overwhelming abundance of institutions that preserve, promote and perpetuate white culture.

That is not a complaint. That is an advertisement. Since the funding sources, both public and private, do not publicly carry avowed missions of exclusion and segregated support, this is obviously either a glaring case of oversight, or we the proponents of black theatre have not made our presence or needs known.” August Wilson Continue reading →

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