Persistent screams keep me from dreaming tonight.

Forever frightened in darkness, anticipating light.

Damp breathe upon me, closer it comes.

Heart pounds faster, as loud as drums.

I make a sound, I feel it close.

His hands are making their way through my clothes.

Lifeless, I lay there.

Breathless, I am scared.

I let it overtake me, need to fight back.

My life on stake, I’m under attack.

Stolen souls, he is taking mine.

Hope is fading, just as time.

Movement in my core, something is brewing.

Fire burning, becomes quite consuming.

From my core it runs.

To the confounds of my lungs.

In my throat and into my vocal box.

The flames within will not soon stop.

Covered under a crimson tide.

From the Jesus Christ who is alive.

Satan leave me! I’m not yours to have.

Dear Father protect me from the enemy’s jabs.

Blanketed into the blood.

Smells like restoration, tastes like love.

Loving Eureka!

You are so blinded by your innocence, so blatantly beguiled. I suppose that is what fascinates me. Though I stand so close to you, you never know I am near you. I switch my eyes back from loathing to loving. Don't catch me in all my trickery, but catch me. Tell me you know of all my silliness. Tell me I am no master of disguise. I want to know that you see me. That my short skirts and low cut blouses don't go unnoticed. I don't do these acts for my health. Say something to me. Tell me you love me. Tell me you hate me. Tell me something. I linger here in limbo. In the median of desire and disgust.

Hideous Condemnation

The horrors of being ugly. We wish not these sins upon each other, yet they are strategically placed among an ordained, an elected, an appointed people.

So, what are we to do? What defense can we take against such a dastardly monster? We can pretend it isn't so. That our vileness is unknown. Ignorance. Claim ignorance. This could work...no, no it will not. The ignorant never remain ignorant for long. Soon a day would pas when I get put in my place. When a crowd surrounds me and verbally stones me. Let me not ignorantly walk myself into the Colosseum.

Father Figurine

My mother said, "You deal with your father the best".

I am not sure how true that sentence is. Technically, I never "deal" with my father. I avoid him. I hear him slam the car door. I frantically run to my room, merely to avoid the awkward and quite uncomfortable 3 minutes when we exchange our days to each other.

"Hi."
"Hi."
"How was your day?"
"Fine"
"How was school?"
"Fine"
"What did you do today?"
"Nothing."
"Okay."

If we even get this far into the conversation, I immediately begin to tense up. There is something about my father that irks me. So as opposed to allowing this feeling to linger I get up.

"Where are you going?"
"To my room."
"No, stay."
"I have homework to do."
"Okay."

Then I depart up the stairs knowing that I will spend all the time in my room just watching the television on the internet. I know; I sound like an awful daughter. I don't love my father. I should be more compassionate. Well, let us step into the time machine and venture back into the past.

My family has had it hard in life. My parents came from Kenya in 1987. Both of them had degrees from Kenya, sadly their first jobs in the land of opportunity were Chick'fil'A employee and taxi cab driver. At this time, I was not even born. Eventually, when I was born, my mom worked as a banker and my dad was a taxi cab driver who also sold cars. I never thought my family went without possessions. I knew nothing.

I look back at all the important moments in my life and sadly, I can't remember my father being at any of them. Yes, he is a busy man. You can stand up for him if you want, but it is more than that. He disregarded these events as important. The minute occasions I had as a child never even translated to him as a huge moment in his daughter’s life. Christmas plays, dance performances, and school productions all went unnoticed. This was my childhood. One without a father.

As I swiftly departed from childhood to teen years the distance between us continued to grow. Until, our lives rarely intertwined. I went my way and he his. Sadly, the way I went took me to a place that I never needed to be...but that too is another sad story. I strayed. I lived in a house full of perceived enemies, my family. I would attack them before I let them attack me. He was never there for that. Unless, I got out of control. Then my mother would call him in as reinforcement. He would yell at me.

"Fool! What are you? Stupid!"

He would attack my soul, my heart, my self-worth. Here was this person who should love you unconditionally calling you by these detestable names. What am I to do? Internally, there is a war waging that I am losing. Externally, I am fighting words being thrown at me by now my true enemy, my father. I shield myself. I cut off everything and everyone. I begin to put on my iron armor. First, I cover my heart. I know it is weak and it cannot break. For the destruction of my heart is the destruction of my person. Then my emotions. He knows too well how to hurt me. I can't allow him--or anyone-- the opportunity to hurt me. I know if my internal is covered my external needs no protection. I am safe behind my iron armor.

I kept my armor on for a long time. It soon became my flesh. Nothing--unless I allowed it to--could penetrate its thick walls. I became hardened. I didn't care. I believe it is far better to be safe, than to go through any of the emotions my father had put me through. Sadly, eventually no one would come near me. I was so scared to be hurt and so secure in my seclusion that I was a monster. I didn't care about anything. I soon became reckless.

I knew I had to create a balance. I needed people around me, but not relationships. I gained acquaintanceships. In high school, I gained so many that I was on Homecoming Court. One of my most glorious memories stained, by my father.

Stupidly, I began to take off my armor. I had hoped to rekindle some relationship with my father. I asked him if he wanted to walk me onto the field @ the Homecoming Game. He said,

"Why would I want to do that? Besides I want to go to Nigeria during that time."

Look there is my jaw on the floor, and my heart in the dirt.

I knew at that moment, my father would never love me the way I needed to be loved. He stole this luscious moment from me and stripped it of all its beauty and glory. Now, due to my mother's coaxing my father escorted me down the field. But no girl wants to be in the arms of a man who cares for something else--especially when that man is your father.

I put my armor on again and continued on in my defiance. One evening I had snuck into the house via the basement and had fallen asleep down there. When I woke up it was 1AM. My parents called me phone and screamed asking where I was. I told them at home. When my parents arrived my mother had given up and just went upstairs. My father told me to show him where I was. So, I took him down to the basement. He then said to me with a fiendish smile.

"If you ever do something this stupid again, I am going to beat you so hard that you are going to have to call the police."

I knew what I had done was wrong, but for the first moment of my life. I was scared for my life. He had just threatened me. He told me he would put my life in danger. He is my father.

Not anymore. He is not my father and he is not my family. He is merely a bread winner. He supplies goods for the troops.

I don't deal with my father. I avoid him. I flee from a monster that has birthed a monster in me. I am on my way to becoming a man, but like any transformation it takes time. Tons and tons of time.

Shmoking Shelly

Started, but never finished.

Shelly had never been too keen on smokers. In fact she openly opposed to smoking. Shelly attended rallies, protested companies, and even would go up to complete strangers and tell them the hazards of smoking. "Did you know that every time you inhale a puff from you white death stick you take away seven minutes of your life and three minutes of all standing in breathing distance." Shelly was a character alright. People would often get annoyed with her self righteous tone, but you couldn't help, but to love her. For deep down inside everyone knew, Shelly cared about people. She yelled, protested, and do all other random acts of craziness, because she wanted the best for all people.

Shelly was once again leading the protest in front of the Marlboro headquarters in New York, "Selling smokes is such a crime!"

"Selling smokes is such a crime!"

"If you smoke you're gonna die!"

"If you smoke you're gonna die!"

Shelly saw Jéan in the slit of her eye. Dark brown hair tousled and unkempt, but oddly it was in place as it should be. Grey blue eyes, like the last moments before a thunderstorm, when he blinked it was like looking at lightening--majestic. He was tall and broad. His body seemed to encompass the world. From head to toe, he was beautiful.

Shelly strolls toward him with unstable composure and asks, "Hey do you work at this death factory?"

"Excuse me?!"

A bit shocked at his reply, Shelly restates her question, "Do you work here?"

"Oh, no" Jéan says, "I am just taking picture for the newspaper"

"Oh. Okay. Well, would you like a free "smoking kills" button?"

"Um...I guess so."

"Okay! Give me a second to run to my van!" Shelly runs to her van and realizes she is being too eager. She whispers to herself, "Calm down Shelly. He is not the only hot guy you have ever met. You are making a fool of yourself. Breathe."

Shelly dashes back to Jéan, "Here is your button."

"Thanks" Jéan figits with the button for a second unable to get it on.

With eager anticipation Shelly says, "Need help?"

"Yeah, just a little."

Ridiculously nervous she knows she is going to be getting to touch a hot guy, she doesn't know, Shelly does the one thing that calms her down. Talk. "Sorry, These buttons are so hard to get on sometimes. Then again what can one expect when you buy 1,000 buttons for ten dollars. At first I thought it was a good deal--because we are in a recession don't you know--now looking back it was just a waste of money. Especially since they are really sucky buttons....."

Admist her ramble, Jéan let out a "Ouch"

Shelly leaps backwards. "What'd do?"

"You stabbed me in mid-ramble."

Highly humiliated. Shelly pants, "Oh my gah, oh my gah. I am so sorry. I wasn't paying attention. I am sorry." Looking at where she pricked him. She sees a line of read making its way through his shirt. "You are bleeding."

Lil' Red Riding in the Hood

This is just a short play I wrote. It is a parody of Little Red Riding Hood. I hope you like it. Comment please.


Narrator: Once upon a time there was a little girl. Mama sent her out into the mysterious world. Told Lil’ Red to give her Grandma some food. On her way to her project she was soon pursued. Big bad pimp wanted a young trick. Was gonna teach Lil’ Red how to suck a %&^$. So keep on reading the story gets good. It’s the story of Lil Red riding in the hood.

Mama: (shouting) Lil’ Red! Lil’ Red...Lil’ Red I swear if I gotta call you one more time I’mma tear up yo’ behind when I see you.

Lil’ Red: Comin’ mama! (Runs onto the stage). What you want.

Mama: Excuse me?

Lil’ Red: Yes, ma’am.

Mama: That’s mo’ like it. Listen yo’ grandmamma ain’t feelin’ too good. She just called and told me her diabetes (pronounce diabetus) is acting up again. So, I need you to take her some food.

Lil’ Red: Ugh! Why? I don’t wanna go. I can’t stand grandmamma. Every time I go to
her house she is always complain’ about something. (Mimicking her grandmother) “Lil’ Red aren’t those jeans a little too tight? Lil’ Red you need to be pulling your shirt down in the front. Lil’ Red why were you talking to that boy in the hallway; you know he is in a gang?” I mean damn can’t she just back off!

Mama: One, use that language in my house one more time, and I will slap fire outcha mouth. Two, if grandmamma wasn’t on you as hard as she is you would probably be the girlfriend of a boy in a gang. Three, we can’t have the women of the house looking like hoes. Cause if you look like a hoe, you will get picked up by a pimp.

Lil’ Red: (Rolls eyes) whatever! So is the food ready.

Mama: Yeah. Lil’ Red stick to the main roads. I know it is quicker to take the back roads, but I have heard some bad stuff has been going on down there.

Lil’ Red: Yes ma’am. (Lil Red exits)
(End scene)


Narrator: So Lil’ Red left her home. She started off on her journey sticking to the main roads. Soon she decided she would disobey. So went on the back alley way. It soon got quiet. So she talked to herself. She thought there was no one there, but there was some body else.

Lil’ Red: (To herself) Ugh! Why, I always have to run around and do errands for my mama. I got a life too. This is so stupid. Then my grandma gonna be like, “Lil’ Red why you take so long? Why this food cold?” I dunno grandmamma. Damn!

Homeless Man: Hey! Who are you talking to?

Lil’ Red: (startled and defensive) Why does it matter to you?

Homeless Men: Sorry. I was just wondering. You look like you’re angry.

Lil’ Red: I am mad, because my damn mama making me take this food to my grandmamma and I don’t want to.

Homeless Man: It can’t be that bad.

Lil’ Red: It ain’t; I just don’t like being told what to do.

Homeless Man: Well, do you need a companion on your walk?

Lil’ Red: HELL NA! I don’t need no stank ass homeless man following me to my grandmamma house. Then you goin’ to ask me to give you some food. Hell na!

Homeless Man: Look, I am not actually homeless. I’m a police officer. I am working undercover trying to catch the big bad pimp.

Lil’ Red: Man, you homeless people are just so damn dumb. I ain’t falling for that trick again. Fool me once shame on you. Fool me twice shame on me. Fool me three times, Imma kick yo’ ass.

Homeless Man: Fine. Just be careful.

Lil’ Red: Whatever! (Walks away)
(End scene)


Narrator: Kept on walking to her grandmamma house. Got into the ghetto and ran into a crack house. She got scared, but she wasn’t a wimp. Sooner than you know she saw the Big Bad Pimp.

Lil’ Red: (to herself) Damn, shady ass ghetto. Why my grandmamma gotta live out here?

Big Bad Pimp: (Slyly) Ey girl. What you doin’ out here all by yourself?

Lil’ Red: (does not respond)

Big Bad Pimp: (blocks her) Hey cutie I was talking to you. I mean it ain’t safe for
girls like you to be walking all by yourself. Some bad bad man might come up and want something bad from with you. You know come with me and I can protect you.

Lil’ Red: Please leave me alone. I am just taking food to my grandmamma.

Big bad Pimp: Awe what a fine sweet lil’ girl you are. I know alotta girls like you. Let me walk with you.

Lil’ Red: Are you deaf? I said leave me alone.

Big Bad Pimp: But baby

Lil’ Red: I am not your baby!

Big Bad Pimp: (grabs her arm) You are what I want you to be!

Lil’ Red: Look, asshole. I have mace in this sack and I will mace your ass. So step
off.

Big Bad Pimp: Alright, but I will be back, and you will work for me.

Lil’ Red: When pig’s fly… (runs away)

Big Bad Pimp: Girl ain’t you ever heard of swine flew? (to himself) Hmmm…no one ever says no to the Big Bad Pimp. I will get what I want. (Snaps like he got an idea)
(Close Curtain)


Narrator: Big bad pimp was gonna have Lil’ Red. So broke in grand mamma’s house and killed her dead. So he thought but grandmamma really survived. So Big Bad Pimp waited in grand mamma’s bed and waited for Lil’ Red to arrive.

Lil’ Red: Grandma! I am here.

Big Bad Pimp: (disguised as grandma) Come in.

Lil’ Red: Where you at grandma?

Big Bad Pimp: I am in my bed room.

Lil’ Red: (walks in) Damn grandma, why yo’ hands so ashy and swoll?

Big Bad Pimp: The better to kidnap you with! (jumps out of the bed and chases Lil’
Red)

Lil’ Red: You ain’t my grandmamma.

Big Bad Pimp: No I ain’t

Lil’ Red: Where’s my grandmamma.

Big Bad Pimp: She gonna be sleeping for a long while.

Lil Red: You a monster!

Big bad Pimp: And you gonna’ be my trick once I get a hold of you.

Lil Red: No! Help ME!

Homeless Man: (barges into room with other officers) Freeze Atlanta Police
Department!

Lil’ Red: Damn! Shawty wasn’t playing. Popo in the house.

Homeless man: Big Bad Pimp you are under arrest for the forced prostitution of minor and for human trifficing.

Lil’ Red: DAMN! Somebody’s ass is goin’ to be in jail for a long time. HAHA! Officers please take this fool away.

Homeless Man: I told you I was an officer.

Lil’ Red: I know, but someone once told me that and gave me some seeds and I planted them and this just Pot Stalk grew, but that is another story. ..
(Close Curtain)

Death of the 50ft Woman

Lately I have been feeling like a monster. I am not sure which one it was a mix of the dinosaur on Rugrats and the 50ft Woman. While in my monster phase, I got the idea to write a story about the 50ft Woman. Oddly it turned into a story and poem, but it is what it is. Be mindful of the pronouns I know they change I am quite aware of it. There is a reason for it. I would really like comments on this post. I like the criticism.


Monstrous, the one word that perfectly describes me. Large, angry, misunderstood, but disaster is all people see. What comes to your mind when you hear, Attack of the 50ft Woman. Destruction. Anger. A mutant destined to be alone. I see her and I know her. Abused, cheated on, a mockery. Yes, yes I do know her. She is me. Now let us break down the 50ft woman, bone by bone.

Look at her feet. She walks tall. She must walk tall. We must walk tall or we shall fall. Everyone wants to see us fall. We will fall. Mockers scoff and kick and yell at us. "Wretched freaks! Mutant spawn! We shall beat at your bones until the light of dawn!" I walked tall.

Her legs are sturdy, like a tree. The lumberjacks come. "Ha! Ha! Ha! Let us now chop. You behemothic maids, we shall take you down a notch." With the axes of assault they break us. We limp. Their laughter heightens. They scorn, "Look at our 44ft gimps." I stood sturdy.

She is on her knees. She tries to crawl away. So close to freedom, then someone shouts, “Please stay!” We look back. A handsome gentleman there stands. He reaches to me and whisper, “Give me your hands.” We reach out our hands expecting a touch. Our hands are gone. They were just cut. That gentleman was a ploy and falsehood a ruse. He jeers, “Me, love you? You must be confused. You are nothing more than a lowly beast. In size you are great, but in matter you are least.” I can crawl no more.

My body is dismantled. My back scratches the ground. “Burn the demon child!” shouts
abusers all around. “Stop!” screamed the leader of the pack. “Turn the jades around and whip them on the back.” As each lash falls a part of us dies. Our flesh is gone. Our body it cries. I was covered.

The one piece of beauty of which we can grace, Is the eyes, the lips, the beauty of a face. Our skull is now covered with surgeons' hands. "Sew her eyes! Cut her lips!" are only a few of the crowd’s demands. With no drug to take us to another place, they dive with their scalpels and destroy my face. My face that held beauty, love, and a smile, Is now the face of an untamed animal in the wild. I was beautiful.

Our legs gone. My hands no more. So they attack what is left, my soul and my core. “Wretch! Monster! Mutant we hate!” What did we order for life to serve us this plate? Yes, we are a monster. That was our predetermined life. “Let us take a last blow. Stab the heart with a knife!” They only knew me as the 50ft fright. Covered with hatred, they blinded their sight. To be destroyed was never our plan. My hearts one desire was to be just like man.

Butterfly

I wish I were a butterfly
Who lived 3 days and surely died
Its life spent fluttering gleefully
My life spent wondering ceaselessly
It knew nothing more than the joys of flight
I know too much about the shadows of night
It made love and brought forth a loving spawn
I make hate and the fire scorches on
I wish I were a butterfly
Who lived three days and surely died.

Crappy Friends

Please don't include me in your life
I was a fling and dent in time
I never mattered much to you
But girls like me we never do

They all scoffed and jeered my name
I really love you this they claim
You never call to say hello
You never get to see me grow

I treat you like me longest friend
But someday soon it all will end
You will be crying on the floor
As I am walking out the door.

Where have they all gone
My memories ran away
New ones may come soon

One note I can't reach
My hands want to catch you please
You run away gone

Vanish! Be gone now!
I never wish to see you.
Perish in your doubt!

Sing not to this girl
Sing instead unto the world
They listen better

My bad desires
Enjoy sparking large fires
I must put them out

Love Died for Me

(Chorus)
Love died for me
The boys and the girls
The love of one man
Saved the whole world
Love of my God
Gave me a home
And the love of the Spirit
Means I’m never alone

(Verse)
We fell away
We took our own lives
We took God’s love
And replaced it with our pride
We thought we were better
We thought we knew all
That there was the beginning
The beginning of our fall

(Chorus)
The Love died for me
The boys and the girls
The love of one man
Saved the whole world
The love of my God
Gave me a home
And the love of the Spirit
Means I’m never alone

(Verse)
Out on my own
I searched for some love
I thought it was in people
But it never was enough
I thought I knew better
I thought I knew all
That there was the beginning
The beginning of my fall

(Chorus)
The Love died for me
The boys and the girls
The love of one man
Saved the whole world
The love of my God
Gave me a home
And the love of the Spirit
Means I’m never alone

(Bridge)
Love saw me fall
He lended a hand
We called the man Jesus
God’s son became man
He took all our sin
On a cross with three nails
And I thank Him because
His Love never fails.

(Chorus)
Jesus died for me
The boys and the girls
He took on the grave
And save the whole world
The love of my Father
Gave me a home
And the love of the Comforter
Means I’m never alone

How dreadful it is to be alone
To know that you are unknown
While everyone is pairing up like Noah's Ark
You are the one with the lonely heart
YYou are left on the boat, at least not one more
Only by twos or be left on the shore
The ark departs and rain brgins to fall

The Irony of Crying

There is a certain irony in tears.
When crying you cover your face.
You wish to be hidden so no one see you vulnerable.
But at the same time you want people to see you.
You need someone to hold you.

You know everyone cries
But in that moment you feel like you are the only one
The quieter you try to be
The louder it becomes like a broken siren

You fade in and out of sound
Your breathing is spasmodic
You don't care how your make up looks
But you are aware that mascara is running down your cheeks.

It doesn't take much to cry
But I takes forever to stop
Crying doesn't change anything
But you need it because it changes everything

Death Wish

Mail me your death wish
I'll show you were death lives
Where hope stops at the door
Where joy's song is no more

Where peril has a name
Where all are ridden with shame
Where life no more presides
But breathlessness abides

Where name of many make the scroll
Where the citizens are an ever increasing toll
Where eyes see nothing but dark
Where ears here shouts that are sharp

Where voices are stolen and kept forever
Where days are cold like December
Where your covered by fits of rage
Where eternity takes the stage

Mail me your death wish
I'll take you where death lives
Enter one. Enter two.
Enter once and there is no exit for you.

Just a moment
Just a minute
Just a second
Just a day lost

My Limricked Life

On a hot summer day I was born
My mom hospital gown lay torn
I let scream
My Ma said what a dream
And that's the day I took form

I loved my pops and my mother
Loved my sister and my brother
They were all a delight
Except when we'd fight
Then I wished I belong to another

I always excelled in school
I was never anyone's fool
Until 2nd grade
When I misbehaved
Which was very uncool

He said my name rhymed with monkey
Cause people used to call me funky
His face turned red
And from his nose he bled
Cause I hit him with my hand which was chunky

In 7th grade I moved to Praise
I thought those word be better days
They were much worse
I always was hurt
It was sad and always dismayed

9th grade comes I move to MHS
High school honestly was the best
I was on Court and on stage
Quite active in plays
But I have quietly put those days to rest.