Kreative Korner

As I watched from the window of my second story office, I could see the fear that was plastered on their faces as they approached the entrance of my facility. This was my moment. This was my opportunity to pull off my biggest heist yet. The cold sweat that washed their faces and armpits left a watermarked trail as they slugged themselves to the location. In the blink of an eye, I was at the gate ready to welcome them, which tortured them with terror as they tried to fathom the quickness of my movement. The smell of weeks old grapefruit washed with jeyes had perfumed the passage way, as the candles directed them in the darkness; white, black, red in that order. “Stop here!”…I instructed…”one by one, make your way to my voice,” I continued in the most obscure voice I could possibly generate. As the first person made their way to my voice, the silence was disturbed by the sound of their knees shaking just below the intense pounding of their hearts. “Yuh fraid?” I questioned as he timidly ...

  It was a day like any other. The night stood still with no winds in sight. The fan’s oscillations did their very best to disperse the moisture to decrease the humidity of the atmosphere, but its attempts were futile. Nevertheless, the battle to take a night’s rest ensued. The battlefield was set. The calvaries  marched forward. Serene Slumber battling the Indomitable Insomnia. Both armies brought forward their arsenal, attacking anything against annihilation. This meant war- one that would create the imagery of World War II being a mere school fight at recess. The stakes were high, and who will take the victory to conquer Slumberland could be dependent on more than just who executes their strategies more effectively.  Serene Slumber sent out their firing line of shots of cold cocomania immediately after their Calvary, indicating that by any means necessary, this battle is theirs for the taking. However, the Indomitable Insomnia, dissembled their tactics and gave the imp...

 To my unborn child, I'm sorry. We're sorry that we couldn't give you the life you deserved. Planting you perfectly without our knowledge, but reaping the spoils of your harvest before your chance to blossom. We'll be more responsible...if that was our problem, or maybe it was just God's way of repeatedly granting his blessings, an oath, kept in solemn. Say hello to your siblings for me, tell them daddy loves them. Mommy loves you too, she's just a bit scared. I held her hands right through to ensure you both were safe. She's still crying though, not knowing how you'd turn out. If you would've been chiseled and stunning like me, or smart-mouthed like her. Until we meet again, Love daddy.

                                                           I was about 8 months in when I held my first strap, Caressed by her hips, I held it firmly on my lap. The layers of my fat had hidden what the handle created as a bulge, Not even the cops that had passed, knew the actions in which I indulge. The mighty 14 shooter, chiseled perfectly in chrome and black, I now understand its glory, as for it addicts do battle, its presence, much like crack. Back to back, we faced each other, As I pray for safety, that nothing harms my mother. Ecstatically I jumped, bussing a move, a twirl, a dance, Inflicting the pain within, as she's determined to keep her stance Celebrating her victory, not knowing the pain that I caused, While I stood there wondering and concerned why she paused. Over two decades later, he still can see t...

Timmy was a typical ghetto youth; raised in a single-parent household, with the only male figurehead of a role-model, being his older brother, Mark. Their father had been a victim of the streets, as he had been employed to the corners, as the chief look out, as he was retired from front-line  duties after surviving an almost fatal shootout with the police. Their father, 'Billy Boy' served and executed in his role with pride, until the day he eventually succumbed to the effects of the shootout. Dimples, their mother was evidently distraught, and Mark assumed the role of 'man of the house' at just sixteen. Without hesitation, Mark placed his aspirations of becoming a professional football player on pause and started working after school and on weekends at the community wholesale, to help with the bills and food. He would also take his little brother Timmy with him to work, so he would be able to supervise him while their mother was at work, and so that he wouldn’t be enta...

For many years I have suffered in silence with no one ever having a clue.   No mother, brother, sister, wife, girlfriend, not even elements of my crew.   Mentally unstable. An emotional wreck. My psychological health has deteriorated beyond repair. Its soil lacks the depth, strength and body to rebuild a foundation that would make me function as a common man .   But you were the only one. The only one who could see the hurt behind my happiness . The only one who could see the strength behind my struggle. T he only one who could see the hurt in my eyes and hear my cry for help in my silence.   Your presence is my vulnerability’s kryptonite. Folding my fears and insecurities like Valarian steel which cuts the very lining of your core as it repels your efforts of reassurance.   I was hurting si lently with a smile on my face.   Dancing to the beats as turmoil invaded my mental space.   I was hurting in silence with a smile on my...