Quite like Sydney Shaw, I proclaim to be a young professional; single and in touch with Hip - Hop. Like Sydney, I have had thriving friendships with the likes of the "Dre's" (Andre' Ellis); played by Taye Diggs.
That therein leads me to the answer to the most popular asked question of every hip-hop artist by music journalist..."When did you fall in love with Hip - Hop?"
Here's my answer...
The sweet melody of rhythm and blues has helped rock-a-bye baby me to sleep,
singing along with the sultry sounds of songbirds aged like fine wine.
Adorned in purple and white robes in choir pews and church balconies,
belting of amazing graces and one sweet morning,
A sense of love grew for the art of music.
Years later,
teenage troubles surpassed and womanhood presented...
the bass was so loud,
even through slammed suite doors it kept me from sleep.
Moments of rest were invaded by the noise across the hall;
speakers to combat with stadium space filled the tiny room and seeped into the feathers of my pillow.
When I couldn't dream of anything soft and tender because the beat led me to nod and agree, and fall in suit...
Hip - Hop became the faceless character in the storyline that numbered endless sheep and cows over moon beams.
For in time those dreams became reality and Hip Hop engulfed my soul.
The lyrics permeated my heart and I could no longer fight the urge;
an addict for the strength behind the message,
a feign for the pencil tap tabled for a cafeteria cipher amongst the crew,
a dry sponge ready to soak up the essence of call and response and griot story telling techniques underlined with a beat;
It was fresh like ground pepper tickling my nose and adding flavor and a hint of spice.
The record player spun tunes that helped me escape from Broad Street to Brooklyn in a matter of minutes.
Mornings opened slits in my eyes; listening to the "slummest of villages" and "blackest of stars",
being called "the perfect verse over the flyest beat",
That's when I became the "Brown Skin Lady" that fell in love with Hip - Hop.
That phenomenal feeling that allows inhibitions to drop and sends a pulse through vessels connected to the soles of a dancer's feet through the soul;
reciting lines of modern day Guru's of rhythmic prowess,
Hip - Hop taste like sweet nectar of Georgia peaches;
like Lay's potato chips...not sufficed by just one bite.
Evolving from "easy conversation" to robust arguments of defiance;
fists in the air rallying against the times,
fighting the good fight before waving white flags,
realists split from candyland games and became MC's while opponents were stuck on the block before collecting two hundred dollars and passing go.
Faded melodies and lessened 16's became archived,
focus blurred from shiny bling,
I search for shades to maintain unwavering following...
searching for the sound that once bought me to your door to eventually close it,
yet opening my heart to experiencing my first love...
Hip Hop.
I miss you.
Copyright2009
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