The Souls of Poets

Posted on September 20, 2026 by Leslye Joy Allen (Ayọ)

What a Hiatus From Social Media Can Do

I have taken brief three to four-day hiatuses from all forms of social and electronic media before and been rejuvenated and recalibrated. I still remember a psychiatrist who openly questioned whether 24 hour news or 24 hour headlines and blurbs online were healthy or whether they really got a message out. That was about 20 years ago.

I have watched stories that trend for days and even weeks. Anything repeated long and often enough can usually be memorized or even absorbed, but whether you understand it intricately or not remains to be seen. Whether you feel anything after a certain point also remains to be seen.

I need not be told that our current sitting president is a racist and a sexist and a sexual predator and a crazy man for the got-damned 10,000th time when slightly over half the population that voted in this country voted for him. He is an easy topic because he’s a shock show designed to distract. You may learn something new that just happened, but I never learn anything new about him. He was an abomination beneath being classified as human when I first learned anything about him back in 1989. He was then, and remains, like so many of the soulless, including those who never knew and still don’t know that they never had a soul.

When someone decided to try to be a copycat of my Substack account on Monday, September 14, 2026, several wonderful people on Substack jumped into gear to report the imposter; and soon the duplicate was gone. Yet, after taking some days away from all social media my brain processed the offense differently.

Some people hack, copy, falsify, pretend and troll much of the time for kicks; and to get jobs (hackers get hired); and to breach people’s bank accounts; and also because they have little else to do. They duplicate pages and names and images, but my gray matter—my brain belongs to me.

I spoke with an old boyfriend from high school a few days after the incident who said, “If I put on a blindfold and someone read me two paragraphs of yours, I would know it was you.” We laughed and reminisced about when we were both young and inquisitive and now we are much older and inquisitive. Aging is a blessing denied to many people. Good memories are also denied, as so many folks never have any because they never go offline long enough to make any.

When I hung up the phone it occurred to me that I never liked, loved or befriended any boy or man that didn’t have the soul of a poet whether he could write poetry or not. To be able to or just to want to be able to take a phrase that, on the surface, seems abstract and make it mean something else or several something else’s is a gift, a gift that requires that you not just look at the world and your circumstances, but that you have the capacity to see the beauty or joy or even the sadness or terror in those circumstances.

My quartet of college English professors: Dr. Waqas Ahmad Khwaja, Dr. Willie Tolliver, Dr. Christine Cozzens and Dr. Steven Guthrie taught me that a historian was a much better historian if that historian loved or could write poetry or fiction. The idiosyncrasies of being a human being are detailed, clothed and disrobed in haiku, sonnets, odes, elegies, cinquain, and free verse the way a couple whose marriage is over, but who cannot completely let go, so they create an ongoing argument, a conflict that lasts their lifetimes just so they can hold on to a piece of what can no longer be.

While away from the grind of scrolling on social media I finished reading three books and one stage play that was so good I couldn’t put it down. I peeked out my window long enough to watch my neighbors’ two small children giggling and playing with their two dogs in their front yard. A father and daughter passed by on their bicycles.

Then when I returned to the internet I saw a headline from a three-day-old news story where the U. S. Military used A. I. to write a report that, in error caused the United States military to begin preparations to militarily strike China and/or to prepare itself to be struck by China. Whatever. The cataclysm was averted. For a nanosecond I felt fear.

Then my fear completely disappeared because the job was done. I have written this before, but this oxymoron bears repeating: Anything intelligent cannot be artificial; and anything artificial cannot be intelligent. The underlying purpose of A. I. is confusion and fear, to convince citizens that machines and algorithms can wreak havoc in a split second. The constructors of A. I. are in testing mode—one week it may pose a threat to a forest, a water supply, a military base, a foreign enemy, or to a specific group of people.

Then after enough non-thinking humans are reasonably subdued to the whims of A.I., the plans to make it safer, less invasive will come along. Jobs will be offered where those who are employed can deliver well-crafted messages about how it is now under control with dozens of benefits to humans that no one realized in its infancy.

The only problem is that the ones who crafted A.I., who designed it, who will propagate it and implant its alleged benefits and its alleged problems in susceptible brains will not be creators who are able to write a poem or even murmur a few words and phrases that come from the heart or the gut. Emotions, perhaps even love itself, could be rendered suspect because love has never followed a formula.

If there are any deaths that could come from the whims and malfunctions of machines, the deaths on fields of battle or the obliteration of entire towns will come much, much later, if they come at all. The first deaths will be slow, caused by the absence of the souls of poets, those that can still find their way in the dark; those that know when to refrain from saying something; those that can say it another way to make people feel better without telling a lie instead; those that can remember childhood games and youthful romances and mischief well enough to care about the young ones who will outlive them, not just care about themselves or the here and now.

©️Leslye Joy Allen

I am an Independent Historian, Oral Historian and Dramaturge. Please consider supporting my work and research with a few bucks for Coffee and Eggs via my CashApp or PayPal; or become a paid subscriber to me on Substack to help me sustain my research and commentary.

All blogs written by Leslye Joy Allen are protected by U. S. Copyright Law and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License. Any partial or total reference to any blog authored by Leslye Joy Allen, or any total or partial excerpt of any blog authored by Leslye Joy Allen must contain a direct reference to this hyperlink: https://leslyejoyallen.com with Leslye Joy Allen clearly stated as the author. Postings or blogs placed here by other writers should clearly reference those writers. All Rights Reserved.

Democratic Socialists Rising: A View from My Atlanta

Posted on June 19, 2026 by Leslye Joy Allen (Ayọ)

by©️Leslye Joy Allen

(Mathewos Samson, Georgia House District 58 Representative-elect with his parents.)

Before I do another happy dance over the victory of Democratic Socialist Mathewos Samson who, as of this writing, is the state of Georgia’s House Representative-elect of District 58, let me quickly share a few things about Democratic Socialism’s growing appeal.

The Democratic Socialist Association’s membership is now roughly and only 100,000 members give or take a few. There are now over 250 Democratic Socialists currently holding public office. And roughly 60% of Americans under the age of 30 view socialism favorably. The uptick in interest in Democratic Socialists began in 2016, with over 90% of them elected after 2019.

Just last year in 2025 after my euphoria over Zohran Mamdani’s win as the newly elected Mayor of New York city, the Washington Examiner published an article titled “Democratic Socialists quietly capture city councils across America” giving credence to the old adage that “All Politics is Local.” It is. And you should pay attention to it.

Yet the point of and the work of the United States’ Democratic Socialists is to build from the ground up—local politics and local accountability are where the people can see the work and the attempts to get the work done.

I would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge Atlanta’s first elected Democratic Socialist Liliana Bakhtiari, a native Atlantan elected to the Atlanta City Council in 2022. A native Atlantan of Iranian descent who was raised in Southeast Atlanta, who was also the first Queer and nonbinary Muslim elected. “She/They” was followed by Kelsea Bond as the second nonbinary Democratic Socialist elected to the Atlanta City Council in November 2025. What does this mean? It means that grassroots activism is back. Mathewos Samson campaigned for her (or I should say “they/them”) back in November 2025 and Bond won.

My first introduction to the concept of Democratic Socialism came when I was in my early teens. Salvador Allende of Chile won the presidency as a socialist devoted to democracy. When he was assassinated the talk ranged from him committing suicide (not at all likely) to his being eliminated in a U.S.-backed military coup (completely likely).

Salvador Allende’s nephew Dr. Juan Allende was my Political Science professor at Agnes Scott College. He never flinched in his moral and ethical convictions. Dr. Allende (who had a Master’s degree in theology) often called himself a “failed preacher.” It was Dr. Allende who not only introduced me to the many African syncretic religions of the Caribbean and Latin America brought here via the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade, but also to the philosophy and ethics of Afro-American theologian James Cone. Dr. Allende stood firm in his belief in the sanctity of every human being having the right to live the life they saw fit.

As for the old cynics: You have every right to be cynical and to be discouraged. We are living in some very troubling times. Yet, let me remind you what young people are for. They are here to remind you that when we elders put down our batons for the last time that someone else will pick it up.

If you are Afro-American, Afro-Latin, Afro-Caribbean and all others in the great Afro dispersion you have a duty to your ancestors to place your efforts and your faith in the young, to sit down and let them do the work, and to answer the damned telephone when they call and say “I hit a brick wall, what do you think I should do?” Your wisdom, as well as your restraint, should kick in if you have not indulged yourself in your ego and your own victimization to the point where you no longer understand that you were never intended to finish the race, only to hand over the baton.

©️Leslye Joy Allen

A Personal Prayer of Cuba

Posted on February 10, 2026 by Leslye Joy Allen (Ayọ)

by ©️Leslye Joy Allen

The following below that is written in italics is partially a meditation on Cuba. It is a response I wrote to a piece about Cuba’s current crisis exacerbated by American neglect and cruelty that was written by Arturo Dominguez. A link to his exceptional article is at the very end of this essay. What’s in italics is a rumination I wrote to Arturo:

“I still remember reading that when Afro-Cuban musical artists came to perform in the United States that they had to perform in the U.S. for free. When asked why they were willing to perform for nothing, the answer was always the same: “We want to see where Dizzy Gillespie was born.”

Thanks for this report Arturo Dominguez because every time there is a sanction, a deprivation, I am reminded that no one suffers in Cuba but the people themselves. I still remember the heinous and wretched Helms-Burton Act which banned ships who docked in Cuba’s ports from docking in the United States for several months.

I remember my professors having to fly out of Atlanta to Canada and then taking a flight from some airport in Canada to Havana to do whatever research they were performing on their visits.

The United States has done nothing but made an example of Cuba as a message to other countries in Latin America and the Caribbean that says “This is how far we’ll go; this is how bad we’ll treat you, if you don’t fall in line.”

I might just turn this comment into a meditation.”

A few moments after reading Arturo’s essay I stumbled on one of my favorite thinkers Vijay Prashad who also was offering his thoughts on the viciousness of the United States government against the Cuban people because it is the people that suffer—No one else. (A link to Vijay’s essay is at the end.)

I don’t have the strength to comment on Prashad’s piece right now except that it is brilliant and accurate. I will leave it to you dear reader to examine both his and Arturo’s essays at your leisure. I have only one thing to say.

One line of my paternal family was sold as slaves from Santiago de Cuba to the mainland United States during the period of slavery in this Western hemisphere. My paternal great grandmother was born a slave named Mollie Laws. Her previous family surname was Layende.

Like most people during the 1700s and 1800s, when one moved (or was sold) some place else the last name was changed to adapt to the new culture one was inhabiting. In the United States, it was typically expected that you Anglicize your name to something that English speakers could pronounce. So “Layende” became “Laws.”

Anyhow I used to relay my personal history to my History students in an effort to make sure that they understood that Chattel slavery took place throughout the Western world. Importantly, what we now call the United States received less than 6 percent of all the Africans transported to this hemisphere during the trans-Atlantic slave trade. The majority of Africans (around 95 percent) landed in what is now named Latin America and the Caribbean.

I don’t have any deep analysis here about how difficult Afro-American genealogy can be. I don’t have any deep commentary about the many cultures and cultural differences that exist between all of the descendants of Africa who occupy this hemisphere except I have always known that for better or worse I belong to them.

Right after I read Arturo’s essay and then Vijay’s essay, I recalled a favorite memory from the classroom. A student whose name escapes me now came to class after Spring Break with a faded photograph he took while out on the Atlantic ocean.

He learned that I had roots in Cuba and so did he. He pulled out this faded photo taken on the water. Far off in the distance I saw something that looked like a line stretched across the water.

“What is that long line in the water that I see in the distance?,” I asked.

“That line across the water in the distance is Cuba, Ms. Allen. I hope you get there someday.”

©️Leslye Joy Allen

I am an Independent Historian, Oral Historian and Dramaturge. Please consider supporting my work and research with a few bucks for Coffee and Eggs via my CashApp or become a paid subscriber to me on Substack to help me sustain my research.

Hyperlinks to additional articles are below photos.

(from Why is the United States Afraid of Cuba?)

Bookstores & Librarians & Libraries Rock: Writers & Readers, Pay Attention

Posted on December 1, 2024 by Leslye Joy Allen (Ayọ)

I love bookstores & libraries and librarians, but particularly librarians. They are natural allies to historians or anyone doing research. When you tell them what you are looking for they can point you right to it. I love archivists for the same reason, but archivists deal with materials that are older, and rarer than the books you see on the shelves in bookstores and in public, school and university libraries. This blog, however, is more than a shout out to the folks who handle books, it is for anyone who has written or who plans to write a book.

Here’s a tip. Do your best to get your book reviewed by a librarian. Here’s why.

While most scholarly articles and many scholarly books are peer-reviewed (which means exactly what it says: reviewed by one’s academic peers), the majority of novels, memoirs, some scholarly works, and popular authors’ books are not reviewed by their peers or by librarians.

There is one advantage that a librarian-reviewed book has: If the librarians responsible for purchasing books like the book and recommend the book, they will buy it and other libraries will buy it too! Library sales are not like other purchases. Let me explain.

Let’s say you are a new author. You and/or your publisher (if you have one) get a local bookstore to buy 100 copies of your book for 50 percent off of the retail price of each book. The typical timeline to return copies of books that did not sell is around 6 months. Let’s say, all but 20 copies of your book sold, so the bookstore returns the unsold books for a refund. Now, you certainly sold more books to the local bookstore than to a public or university library, BUT libraries’ sales are final and books are never returned unless there’s some physical damage to the actual book.

So, here’s a suggestion. Scholars and Librarians rarely review books that do not appear to have some scholarly value. Yet, you can always send your manuscript—whether it is a Science Fiction Thriller, a Memoir, or a Book of Poetry—along with a Cover Letter, requesting a review of your book.

Library Journals like Kirkus Reviews (librarians read this one all the time), Library Journal, Booklist, School Library Journal are some of the journals that librarians read and publish in. If you get a positive review in any one of these, you are bound to sell a few books and potentially earn another audience of readers because Bookstores and Libraries and Librarians Rock!

“If libraries order your book, you’re golden, because those sales are non-returnable—an author and publisher’s dream.” — from Returns 101: What New Authors Need to Know

Vice-President Kamala Harris at Bold Fork Books, on Small Business Saturday, November 30, 2024. Bold Fork Books is a Culinary Bookstore located in Washington, D. C.

#MakeAmericaLiterateAgain

Blogs written by Leslye Joy Allen are protected by U. S. Copyright Law and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License. Any partial or total reference to any blog authored by Leslye Joy Allen, or any total or partial excerpt of any blog authored by Leslye Joy Allen must contain a reference to this hyperlink: https:/leslyejoyallen.com with Leslye Joy Allen clearly stated as the author. Postings or blogs placed here by other writers should clearly reference those writers. All Rights Reserved.

The Persistence of Old Models / Old Beliefs

Posted on April 21, 2012 by Leslye Joy Allen (Ayọ)

by Leslye Joy Allen Historian, Educator, Theatre and Jazz Advocate & Consultant, Doctoral Student

Last month, I had the good fortune to sit down with, break bread with, and drink good wine a couple of times with award-winning playwright, Black Theatre expert, and educator Paul Carter Harrison. I have to thank fellow scholar R. Candy Tate for turning what was supposed to be our first meeting (to trade academic notes and talk shop) into a meeting where we added yet another spirited scholar to the mix. This was one of those rare opportunities we graduate students receive where we can converse with someone who is, arguably, one of the first artists to seriously study Black Theatre and create a scholarly canon that tells us what Black Theatre is and what it is not.

However, I deliberately did not ask Paul about his many books (The Drama of Nommo or Black Theatre: Ritual Performance in the African Diaspora). Among the many things we discussed was his frustration and anger about what he considered to be some younger playwrights, actors, and directors’ pandering to the tastes of White audiences; and an unfortunate dumbing-down of theatre, television and film in an effort to appeal to audiences of all races for the sole benefit of entertainment just for entertainment’s sake. He was not ambiguous at all; he was livid. He saw a disturbing trend where some Black performers decided to cater to what White producers and audiences—even well-meaning White folks—wanted them to appear to be on stage. No more martyred Black folks, he said. Exactly how many times must everything WE do be a response to some other group of people? Exactly how many times must we be characterized as long-suffering and stoic or, for that matter, be the super baadaass Black man who always manages to rush in and save the day? He made his point.

He saw this pandering as something that, while it might be quite commercially satisfying, stifled Black creativity and stunted artistic risk-taking while it simultaneously applauded and rewarded the mundane, the ordinary. He noted that this lack of vision, this lack of adventurousness, would eventually cause a lot of artists to hit a commercial brick wall. He did not bite his tongue about the fact that certain Black stereotypes and certain Black archetypes had become the norm in film, on TV, and on the stage. While Paul is a part of my larger ongoing research, which will not be discussed here, he did make me think about not only why artistic and scholarly risk-taking is necessary for growth, but also why stereotypes are particularly dangerous.

After our two marathon conversations, I thought about how people on both sides of the political and racial aisle, so to speak, hold onto and cling to certain images and ideas about Black people. I have to honestly wonder whether, WE Black folks have any real friends who actually know US; that is, friends outside of our own racial/ethnic group. I am not kidding; I mean this. Aside from the racist who assumes that at any given moment I will be spitting out watermelon seeds or that I have bred babies like rabbits, there are also those White folks that go to other extremes. They are so hell bent on proving that they are not racist that they see beauty and goodness in everything and everybody that is Black—and that is a fallacy as well. Blackness and Black people become a fetish. One of the first things that makes us, Black folks, human is our ability to be great or weak, right or wrong, smart or dumb, honest or dishonest. Any belief, sentiment, or romanticism that strips us of the full range of human expression denies us our humanity, no matter how flattering those beliefs and sentiments might be. It is dangerous to hold onto those kinds of extremes and expectations.

Only a few days after my meeting and hanging out with Paul, one of my History students, a young White male, told me about this funny video he saw. According to this student, someone filmed security personnel in a department store. In the video, all of the security personnel were following all the Black customers assuming that the Black customers would be the customers who would shoplift. However, while security was following all the Black customers, White shoplifters were stealing everything they could get their hands on. Both my student and I laughed, but the humor quickly faded when we began to consider what really happens when someone makes assumptions based solely and purely on race, or I should say, on racism. Now, anyone with half a brain knows that people of all races and ethnicities steal for a variety of reasons. Nevertheless, this video—that I have never seen, by the way—said something else about misconceptions based solely on race.

When people buy into any stereotype it does something more than degrade and devalue the victim of the stereotype, it tells everyone else exactly who they need to victimize or who they need to “not look like” or “not behave like” in order to get away with whatever they are attempting to get away with. I am not going to say anything about Trayvon Martin, this time. However, for all of those frightened and paranoid White folks (and Black folks) who live in gated communities in Florida and elsewhere, I have only one thing to say: Beware of respectable looking young White males who may be walking through your neighborhoods.

While I am sure most of these young White men will not be planning to commit any crime or do anyone any harm, one of them might have decided that since he did not look a certain way that he could get away with certain things. When you buy into and believe those old models and old beliefs, eventually, someone figures out that all they have to do is make sure they do not fit the model. After that, they can get away with anything! And for those folks who might be feeling guilty for believing the worst stereotypes about Black people, the last thing you need to do is stop for some poor Black guy on the side of the road at midnight, just to prove a point.

The majority of us Black people work hard, pay our bills, take care of our homes and lawns, and never ever hurt anyone, but that does not mean that all Black people are saints. If we could just let these old models and old beliefs go, we could proceed in this world based just on facts rather than assumptions. Now, I have a Black elder statesman of Theatre and a young White male student to thank for raising the level of the discussion.

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This Blog was written by Leslye Joy Allen and is protected by U. S. Copyright Law and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License. Any partial or total reference to this blog, or any total or partial excerpt of this blog must contain a direct reference to this hyperlink: http://leslyejoyallen.com with Leslye Joy Allen clearly stated as the author.

Leslye Joy Allen

Social Commentary, History, Theatre, Jazz, and the Environment

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