Amanya Maloba on Storyteller Alley: Where Stories Are Born

Photo: Amongst the Wolves TV
Photo: Amongst the Wolves TV

Amanya Maloba: I only have memory of growing up in one house. This house is a good house in a good, suburban neighborhood, with a lot of good memories associated with it. It used to be brown, but is now off-white. There used to be a swing set in the backyard, but it’s not there anymore. There used to be an enormous tree stuck at a 45-degree angle with a groundhog living under the exposed roots. The tree has been cut down, and I suspect the groundhog was eaten by one of the foxes that run through the yard. There is a creek that runs behind this house that is home to snakes and tadpoles. When I was small, I used to walk the path that led to an opening of the creek hand in hand with my father. In recent years I’ve taken to sitting alone on a rock at this opening. However, none of these images is a complete description of what and where home is.

Click here to read the rest of my latest piece on where the stories in Harvest were born and where I call home.

Harvest is available in print and eBook here.
Personalized copies of Harvest available here.

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Love Crime (Ishmael Reed x Frank Ocean)

Ishmael Reed x Frank Ocean: Love Crime 

I only just realized that these two poems (one musical and one written) share the same title. I happen to love them both. It’s a total love crime experience to listen and read at the same time (although I hear for some people those are conflicting tasks)! I chose this dark poem, breaking with the overall celebratory theme of the month, since it would be inaccurate to portray love without the shit that threatens it or makes people act to defend it righteously.

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February

Photo: Amanya Maloba
Photo: Amanya Maloba

I am absolutely delighted that February is finally upon us. I’ve always loved this month because of the colors—red, pink, and black. Throughout February we’ll be featuring posts that fit within the colorful umbrella of the month with a good combination of interviews with young black talent, short biographies of black leaders and pioneers, editorials, and maybe even a love poem or two 😉

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-M-E-

It’s so funny to me how I can’t die
I’m already too tangible, too
much flesh.

IMG_7900I’m already exhaling oxygen
through my green green leaves.
I been breathing for
near about 13.8 billion years now
(whatever that really means).

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