The following blog will show readers a little bit about the life of Tony Hanes. I hope you enjoy "My Thoughts". - Thanks
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
“A Little Piece of Sadness” (10/18/2011)
“A Little Piece of Sadness”
Some mornings I encounter a little piece of sadness.
Internal thunderstorms soak the dreams of happiness.
Earthquakes shake the stability of my consciousness.
I reach for several people who are no longer here.
I fear,
more bad weather will appear.
Some evenings I encounter a little piece of sadness.
The evolution of of my smile is challenged by death.
In life, the three of you provided me with visions of Paradise.
Now the clock display Hades,
when I view obituaries in my album book.
Some nights I encounter a little piece of sadness.
Not even the Stars shine bright enough to see your spirits.
I hear voices but my imagination plays Russian Roulette with logic.
This is the reality of more negative forecast to come.
Dress warm-
The Green Mile...
The Upper-Room...
Even though each day is a blessing,
the curse is when you outlive “LOVE”.
Sometimes I encounter little pieces of sadness,
waiting on the “Birth” of what lies ahead.
Internal madness-
The End
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Mary J.Blige: “Tortured Soul”
Mary J.Blige: “Tortured Soul”
The phone caused a thunderous rattle as the dial tone got louder in my ear...I thought this was "Real Love" and that "No More Drama" would invade my universe. As I "Reminisce" about the happiness we had..."Summer Madness"… took control of this situation. My hesitation to call back was justified from the beginning. I just knew you would "Slow Down" so this "Sweet Thing" of ours would never go stale...A mental jail is where I rest...”You Got To Believe" that "I Can Love You" better than the cold, selfish and unforgiving streets that you run. Why don't you run back to me?...I'm warm...I tried to beat your door down last night...I'm sorry..."My Life" is going down as I smoke this "Mary Jane" watching the TV watch me. In "Seven Days" my job is transferring me to a place away from happiness …so...are you going to "Share My World" or be a distant memory in my past..."What's the 411" because I'm "Willing and Waiting" for the last time and can "Press On" if you like. The dial tone is so loud in my ear right now. You only need me when you need me! You only need me when you need me!” All I Can Say" is there will be "No More Crying" in my life in regard to you. At one point I didn’t know how I would "Be Without You" but one thing about being "Alone"...The only "Baggage" that you carry…is your own...I'm Gone...I’m Confused…Just so use to being used…You can’t hold a “Good Woman Down”…Do I believe this?...I tried to achieve bliss…What happens when a “Tortured Soul” dies?
#The End
(This is written from the perspective of a woman. Not like you couldn’t tell that already.)
The phone caused a thunderous rattle as the dial tone got louder in my ear...I thought this was "Real Love" and that "No More Drama" would invade my universe. As I "Reminisce" about the happiness we had..."Summer Madness"… took control of this situation. My hesitation to call back was justified from the beginning. I just knew you would "Slow Down" so this "Sweet Thing" of ours would never go stale...A mental jail is where I rest...”You Got To Believe" that "I Can Love You" better than the cold, selfish and unforgiving streets that you run. Why don't you run back to me?...I'm warm...I tried to beat your door down last night...I'm sorry..."My Life" is going down as I smoke this "Mary Jane" watching the TV watch me. In "Seven Days" my job is transferring me to a place away from happiness …so...are you going to "Share My World" or be a distant memory in my past..."What's the 411" because I'm "Willing and Waiting" for the last time and can "Press On" if you like. The dial tone is so loud in my ear right now. You only need me when you need me! You only need me when you need me!” All I Can Say" is there will be "No More Crying" in my life in regard to you. At one point I didn’t know how I would "Be Without You" but one thing about being "Alone"...The only "Baggage" that you carry…is your own...I'm Gone...I’m Confused…Just so use to being used…You can’t hold a “Good Woman Down”…Do I believe this?...I tried to achieve bliss…What happens when a “Tortured Soul” dies?
#The End
(This is written from the perspective of a woman. Not like you couldn’t tell that already.)
Nas "Project Pain" Roots from a Family Tree Die
Nas: "Project Pain" Roots from a Family Tree Die
(Side Note: If your a Nas fan & know his songs, you might like this piece)
Pops use to say "The World is Yours" until Mom passed away from Cancer and "It Aint Hard to Tell" that my life changed after that. I use to "Dance" with her to old Motown tunes on Saturday mornings when cartoons went off. "I Can" remember Sunday breakfast conversations and Dad always "Made You Look" him in the eyes while talking...It was a sign of respect...A lesson I learned from them is "Life is What You Make It" and "If I Ruled the World" there wouldn’t be so many "Ghetto Prisoners" all over the Globe...MOM DEAD AND DAD LOST...I miss them both and expected "Big Things" in this "Small World" and I know somehow...."We Will Survive" and "Represent" better for humanity on this tainted planet...God gave me this hand and my "Undying Love" to be raised in a two-parent home was destroyed by...A SHARP PAIN IN MY MOTHERS CHEST AND MY DAD NEVER GOT ANOTHERS DAYS REST...this wasn’t the "Life We Chose" and I just knew that "God Love Us" but now my faith is as strong as HOT ICE...Now I look out my "Project Windows" in a "New York State of Mind" thinking that "Life's A Bitch" and then you die that’s why I get HIGH…cause you never know when you’re going to go..."Some of Us Have Angels" but my wings fell off so you can "Hate Me Now" because I "Shoot em Up" with "Quite Niggas" daily...My "Last Words" not even "Nastradamus" can predict as I sit here with this "Du Rag" and bad attitude...I hope that mom is in "Heaven" next to "The Cross" because I'm a "Street Disciple" with an "Illmatic" mind...sick in the head. Thinking back on "Memory Lane" I know I'll never be the same...dad isn’t the same...the hood never changed...mom rest in peace as I continue to go INSANE....
#The End
Pops use to say "The World is Yours" until Mom passed away from Cancer and "It Aint Hard to Tell" that my life changed after that. I use to "Dance" with her to old Motown tunes on Saturday mornings when cartoons went off. "I Can" remember Sunday breakfast conversations and Dad always "Made You Look" him in the eyes while talking...It was a sign of respect...A lesson I learned from them is "Life is What You Make It" and "If I Ruled the World" there wouldn’t be so many "Ghetto Prisoners" all over the Globe...MOM DEAD AND DAD LOST...I miss them both and expected "Big Things" in this "Small World" and I know somehow...."We Will Survive" and "Represent" better for humanity on this tainted planet...God gave me this hand and my "Undying Love" to be raised in a two-parent home was destroyed by...A SHARP PAIN IN MY MOTHERS CHEST AND MY DAD NEVER GOT ANOTHERS DAYS REST...this wasn’t the "Life We Chose" and I just knew that "God Love Us" but now my faith is as strong as HOT ICE...Now I look out my "Project Windows" in a "New York State of Mind" thinking that "Life's A Bitch" and then you die that’s why I get HIGH…cause you never know when you’re going to go..."Some of Us Have Angels" but my wings fell off so you can "Hate Me Now" because I "Shoot em Up" with "Quite Niggas" daily...My "Last Words" not even "Nastradamus" can predict as I sit here with this "Du Rag" and bad attitude...I hope that mom is in "Heaven" next to "The Cross" because I'm a "Street Disciple" with an "Illmatic" mind...sick in the head. Thinking back on "Memory Lane" I know I'll never be the same...dad isn’t the same...the hood never changed...mom rest in peace as I continue to go INSANE....
#The End
“The Quicksand Where I Died”
“Quicksand is a non-Newtonian fluid: when undisturbed it often appears to be solid ("gel" form), but a minor (less than 1%) change in the stress on the quicksand will cause a sudden decrease in its viscosity ("sol" form). After an initial disturbance—such as a person attempting to walk on it—the water and sand in the quicksand separate and dense regions of sand sediment form; it is because of the formation of these high volume fraction regions that the viscosity of the quicksand seems to increase suddenly. Someone stepping in it will start to sink” * wikipedia
“The Quicksand Where I Died”
I took so many steps near the tide where my love once "resided"
Deciding to endure more pain collided with thoughts of "Utopia"
Opening a few thoughts elevated my sense of security and confidence
Maybe this is all a "Mirage" and my feet will never arrive on the other side
A side where we have all been or must go
I am not afraid of death
I am not afraid to sink
I will walk until there is no more torture to endure
Love will torment my soul on another day during these famine times
Still hungry I starve for you and a solution before totally retreating
“The Quick-Sand Where I Died” is a beach known by many.
As my feet began to release gravity I contemplated suicide
Inside each thought sleeps the compassion of one who loved
Self hate drives each step taken bringing me closer to a darker fate
Bright times now transcend into moisture that stagnate movement
Slowly I feel the earth’s core "invite" my spirit and soul
Her tears boldly appeared in between my consciousness and pride…
“The Quicksand Where I Died”……. “The Quicksand Where I Died”
Clouds started to run from the Heavens with a message of deceit
Rain has decided to "invade" our already tainted beach…I tried again to
retreat…not quite six feet deep
I sink
I sink
I sink
The tide started to rise as my suspension created a passage of doubt
At one point there was a drought now our togetherness is no longer together
Our forever is never so as I disappear slowly with a frown and smile…We both
cried…I reach out for your stick…it’s too short…damn it’s too short
“The Quicksand Where I Died”
Two lost souls cheated with the lust of life…The allure is difficult to control
In bold letters we divorced our “Infatuation” as the sand danced on broken
hearts…as the sand intercepted a brand new start…
Barely able to see the seagulls I started to visualize your shadow and tunnels of
deception
Tunnel of demise
Jeannie disguised as an Angel
The Blair Witch with two magic brooms developed a roller coaster of
Thunderstorms
I’m guilty too!!
Creating war on beaches where “passion” could have been timeless
Timeless is now 60 seconds away…eyes closed…I hold my breath…lungs burning
Inside.
“The Quicksand Where I Died”
I cheated
You cheated
We cheated
No longer on your "life-support" I give in
Living has come to an end on these grounds similar to Normandy
We were ambushed by Greed after aborting the ship
This vacation is like abortion…A trip deferred
My head goes under
You disappear
"I return back to mud and clay"
The image of my father
There is no life without love…even if it’s filled with lies…I guess…Good-bye
“The Quicksand Where I Died”
The End
“The Quicksand Where I Died”
I took so many steps near the tide where my love once "resided"
Deciding to endure more pain collided with thoughts of "Utopia"
Opening a few thoughts elevated my sense of security and confidence
Maybe this is all a "Mirage" and my feet will never arrive on the other side
A side where we have all been or must go
I am not afraid of death
I am not afraid to sink
I will walk until there is no more torture to endure
Love will torment my soul on another day during these famine times
Still hungry I starve for you and a solution before totally retreating
“The Quick-Sand Where I Died” is a beach known by many.
As my feet began to release gravity I contemplated suicide
Inside each thought sleeps the compassion of one who loved
Self hate drives each step taken bringing me closer to a darker fate
Bright times now transcend into moisture that stagnate movement
Slowly I feel the earth’s core "invite" my spirit and soul
Her tears boldly appeared in between my consciousness and pride…
“The Quicksand Where I Died”……. “The Quicksand Where I Died”
Clouds started to run from the Heavens with a message of deceit
Rain has decided to "invade" our already tainted beach…I tried again to
retreat…not quite six feet deep
I sink
I sink
I sink
The tide started to rise as my suspension created a passage of doubt
At one point there was a drought now our togetherness is no longer together
Our forever is never so as I disappear slowly with a frown and smile…We both
cried…I reach out for your stick…it’s too short…damn it’s too short
“The Quicksand Where I Died”
Two lost souls cheated with the lust of life…The allure is difficult to control
In bold letters we divorced our “Infatuation” as the sand danced on broken
hearts…as the sand intercepted a brand new start…
Barely able to see the seagulls I started to visualize your shadow and tunnels of
deception
Tunnel of demise
Jeannie disguised as an Angel
The Blair Witch with two magic brooms developed a roller coaster of
Thunderstorms
I’m guilty too!!
Creating war on beaches where “passion” could have been timeless
Timeless is now 60 seconds away…eyes closed…I hold my breath…lungs burning
Inside.
“The Quicksand Where I Died”
I cheated
You cheated
We cheated
No longer on your "life-support" I give in
Living has come to an end on these grounds similar to Normandy
We were ambushed by Greed after aborting the ship
This vacation is like abortion…A trip deferred
My head goes under
You disappear
"I return back to mud and clay"
The image of my father
There is no life without love…even if it’s filled with lies…I guess…Good-bye
“The Quicksand Where I Died”
The End
Sunday, August 7, 2011
”The Life and Times of Dennis Blackwell” (Short Story-Rough Draft)
”The Life and Times of Dennis Blackwell”
Part 1: Virginia to Georgia
At the stop light Dennis looked over at the most beautiful woman he had seen in years. Her car was a 2003 Honda Accord. It was candy-apple red and resembled the lipstick that she gently placed on her juicy lips before the light turned green.. As populated as this area has become Dennis realized that he might never see this woman again. His hands went into a greeting motion as she smiled. The green light insured that this introduction was over. Dennis made a left on Peachtree St. to find a hotel. Atlanta, Georgia has been a city widely recognized for several of the nation’s top insurance headquarters. Dennis had moved down to the area during the very hot summer of 2004 for a change of scenery. Dennis Blackwell left a complicated life that would cause the average man to loose his sanity. In a 3 month span he was demoted at his company, his wife divorced him, his mentor from his youth passed away and his best friend was killed in a plane crash. Dennis saved a stash of money from work and the death of his two closest companions left him financially set. Dennis proceeded down Highway 85 South for a new beginning.
Part 2: Making Friends
Standing in line at the Atlanta Hawks basketball game Dennis met a ticket scalper named Steve Rogers. Steve was a fast, slick talking hustle man who apparently sold tickets fairly often outside of The Omni. People spoke to him with friendly smiles as he persuaded Dennis to get out of line and purchase one of his tickets. Dennis decided to pass and handed his $50.00 to the older gentlemen behind the glass window. Dennis played ball in college and stood an even 6’3. After the game Dennis decided to hit the town and serenade his first weekend in the city they call “Hotlanta”. Taking the flyer off of his windshield, Steve from earlier approached Dennis with another proposition. It was close to 11:30 pm and Dennis was on foreign territory with a stranger getting on his nerves. Dennis is a very impatient individual. After small talk Steve told Dennis that he could show him all of the areas where the ladies would be in abundance. Dennis was apprehensive with Steve’s gestures. Steve stood beside a 2005 Lexus and hit the alarm. Steve was a short Caucasian fellow who stood about 5’7 in height and a stomach that resembled countless Bud Lights and Corona’s. He informed Dennis that he had all of the connections and could get him V.I.P. in any club or strip joint in the area. Dennis took Steve’s card and headed to the closest highway. Tired now, Dennis decided to forgo the nightlife and head back to the Ramada.
Part 3: In the Heat of the Night
The alarm clock and room service attacked Dennis at 7:45 am. The date was Saturday May 27th 2004. During breakfast Dennis knew he had to map out finding an apartment downtown, a job, and all of the essentials when a person moves to an entirely different environment. Dennis had a huge bank account because his best friend left him with his assets. Walter was Dennis best friend since grade school and was a professional football player for the Baltimore Ravens. Walter never knew where his family was and grew up in group homes. He was killed less than 6 months ago coming back from vacation with a young lady that he had been dating for about a year. Dennis left the waiter a tip and went back to his room to relax. Looking at highlights on ESPN Dennis came across the business card of Steve Rogers. Boredom had taken its toll as the clock struck 6pm. Dennis had fallen back to sleep and wasted his entire Saturday. The weather outside was 80 degrees and the unlikely breeze crept into the window by way of the balcony. Steve invited Dennis to a private party and after an hour in the establishment, Dennis knew that Steve was into more than he could have imagined. This was the birthday party of Daron Patterson, the biggest drug dealer and gangster in the entire metropolitan area. Dennis had read about him in the news but Daron had all of his money tied into several private businesses so the FBI and IRS had the hardest time trying to nail him. They failed on two tax evasion convictions and an attempted murder charge. All charges had been dropped on his birthday, ironically. Dennis sat at the bar with a gin and juice trying to figure out how his life took so many turns over the past year.
Part 4: He never saw it coming…
After the party, Dennis decided to park his car and ride with Steve Rogers to another after hours spot. The women were all over the place showing a lot more body than clothes. The Dj played classic 80’s Hip Hop as Steve spoke to a few of the major players in the dark disco type room. Dennis tapped his feet to the sound of Eric B. and Rakim’s track “I Know You Got Soul”. The James Brown sampled song use to be one of his personal favorites. Steve walked into the back office room with Daron and a few other guys leaving Dennis in the club alone to mingle. This was no problem for Dennis who was seen as a very handsome man to the ladies over the years. He sat there with a lovely dark skinned woman who had made her way to his table. She resembled the woman he saw at the stop light during the previous Friday evening. It was her. The lipstick she pulled out her purse was a match on site. What a lucky night for Dennis as they traded cell phone numbers. A few minutes later, Steve walked out sweating and anxious telling Dennis that it was time to go. He rushed Dennis to the car and they drove away from Club 112. As Steve darted between cars on the highway Dennis knew that something was wrong. Steve swiftly drove up the ramp and made a sharp right to stop at a closed gas station. Dennis had mixed feelings about what was going on. A van pulled behind him and stopped. Daron and another guy stepped out and unlocked the back doors of the van. Dennis never saw this coming…
Part 5: Guilty by Association
Steve stepped out of the car and embraced Daron. Another one of Daron’s friends knocked on Dennis door motioning for him to get out. Reluctantly, Dennis stepped out and stood in place. A tall guy with a black suit on opened the van door and Dennis noticed that there were two men lying there handcuffed and tied at the feet with rope. Dennis stepped back and alluded to Steve that he was walking off. Daron looked at him with a sinister look and stated that he had a job for him to do. Daron walked over to Dennis and informed him that these two guys were responsible for the death of his fiancé and his biggest money maker. They were killed as they left a club over a month ago and Daron had been after them. Dennis wanted to know why Steve was so invested in this affair. Dennis explained that this was not his lifestyle and he had just moved from Virginia to live in peace. Daron could care less. “Your here now” said Daron, as he glanced to the tall guy in the suit. Steve knew about this and had put Dennis right in the middle of two potential murders. Daron’s friend handed Dennis a huge gun that resembled a 44 magnum and stated that two shots to each head would do it. Dennis hesitated putting his hand out but the quietness of the night, led him to believe that if he didn’t shoot these guys, he would be killed himself. Dennis was guilty by association and it started a few days ago at an Atlanta Hawks basketball game…
Part 6: A Long Ride Home or Somewhere…
The blood splashed all over the interior of the van. Dennis couldn’t believe what had just taken place. Two men murdered in a matter of seconds and just think, this was his first time ever holding a gun. A sense of power overtook his hands. The rush that he felt was addictive. Standing there in shock and in ecstasy, Steve had to grab the gun back. Daron was moved by the ease that Dennis displayed murdering his rivals. Daron handed Steve a stack of hundred dollar bills and drove off. As Dennis and Steve rode on the highway in silence, it appeared that it was going to be a long ride home. Dennis didn’t understand why nobody from Daron’s crew or Steve didn’t follow threw with this obvious hit instead of a total stranger. As Steve drove off the highway and stopped in the parking space at the club where Dennis car was, he was hit by a bullet to his throat.
Part 7: The Start of something new…the past revisted…
Dennis sat there watching Steve take his last breath. Dennis smiled as the extra gun he had in his coat pocket burned with passion. This was all he needed to get back to his old self. A reminder of where he found happiness and redemption at. As a child, Dennis was always picked on. Until his growth spurt he was always considered to be a short, semi-fat kid, who couldn’t play sports or fight. Of course the girls never liked him until he grew over 10 inches in 2 years and made the Varsity basketball team. Dennis held so much pain inside. Throughout college and the first few years of his professional career, he had to adjust to the attention and fake friends. Dennis considered Walter to be his only friend from childhood who never let him down and never told anyone his secrets. In 1994 Dennis was a senior in high school, the star guard on the team and of course the lucky guy to date the captain on the cheer leading squad Tiffany Miller. Tiffany was about 5’6, long straight hair, and a complexion that resembled a Navaho Indian. Tiffany was black and Indian with a great looking body and attitude to match. The only drawback was her previous boyfriend was a local hustler who dropped out of school and started a street gang called the Get Busy Crew. She didn’t want that life and had been accepted to attend college at The University of Florida. Antoine never had any desire to let her go, so during Dennis last year or so in high school; Antoine always seemed to show up at his games. They had traded words before but Dennis had a scholarship to attend UNC-Chapel Hill where he played 3 years on the team before suffering a career ending knee injury. One night after leaving a movie Dennis and Tiffany were confronted by Antoine and some of his loser friends. After jumping on Dennis and giving his girlfriend a nice beating as well, they drove off leaving the two beaten in a dark parking lot. Walter came to their aid and took them to the hospital. Walter was furious as his 6’8, 322 pound frame busted from out the car. Walter loved Dennis and would do anything for him. That was his brother. Tiffany parents came to the hospital to see her as Dennis and Walter were headed out. They informed them about what happened in detail as a Police walked up. Tiffany was going to be ok but did get smacked around pretty good. Dennis had a bruise or two but he was a tough kid from being beat up so much as a child. After a brief conversation, they were allowed to leave the hospital. Dennis had Tiffany license and other items in his car but lied and told them that he had to go find her stuff. Dennis mentor was also given the same story. Dennis has so much pain held inside from being abandoned by his parents that he had to release it. The neighborhood Pool Hall was a place where the criminals gathered. Across the street Dennis and Walter cased the joint and waited for Antoine to come out.
Part 8: Time for a Change
A few guys walked out and left the building. Antoine walked out with a female friend and headed to his 2005 BMW blasting Tupac. Dennis hands were sweaty and his heartbeat pumped at a dangerous rate as he put the silencer on the gun he had stolen from his mentor’s house. He was an ex-detective. Five shots put Antoine to the ground as his female friend also caught a stray bullet to the temple. As blood splashed everywhere Dennis and Walter ran to the car and rushed to Walter’s apartment. Friends of the program had already given Walter money because he was an All American lineman in school. Dennis sat there with his hands shaking. Walter thought that Dennis was mad but bluffing about his intentions as they headed to the Pool Hall. Walter noticed that Dennis had another rage locked inside of him but promised to never let out his secret or talk to any authorities. Time went on and they never talked about it again. A year later Dennis and Tiffany broke things off but decided to remain friends. The more things change, the more they stay the same. Dennis dumped Steve’s body in the back of an alley and set his car on fire a few blocks away. Daron was next were the next thoughts that came to Dennis mind as he took a taxi back to the empty parking lot where his car was still parked. Dennis was starting to feel happiness again.
Part 9: Getting adjusted to the area…
After 3 months of searching for an apartment Dennis found a 3000 square ft. townhouse on the south end area of downtown Atlanta. The place was already painted and was very classy and expensive. Dennis silently thanked Walter for leaving him with almost 1.5 million dollars in his Will. What a friend, Dennis thought as he sat on the sofa. The house came fully furnished with a mixture of European and Greek artifacts. Woman would love it. And soon enough, they did. The nights and days became one and the same. Parties, clubs, woman, and drugs became Dennis’s new regime. Gloria, Dennis ex-wife called him a few times since his departure from Virginia but he never called her back. There was no need for any reconciliation with the Atlanta nightlife providing Dennis with pure visions of Utopia. One night as Dennis sat in his living room with two lovely woman his urge to find happiness took control of him again. As they sat there drinking wine and cocktails, Dennis excused himself to the restroom. Dennis was use to having sex with two women at a time. He did have money, a nice home, a growing reputation with some major players and access to whatever drugs popular on the streets. Dennis reached into his favorite bag and walked to the living room. The women were high and drunk out of their minds. With the silencer locked tight, Dennis used the thing that made him happiest to end their lives. Killing them dead without sound, Dennis smiled and grabbed the axe and plastic bags. The huge basement became a cemetery for some of the most beautiful cheerleaders, models, strippers, and par-tiers in the entire area. Dennis victims made the news papers in bundles. The missing person’s report grew to an all time high during his first 12 months in the city.
Part 10: A Familiar Face
One night leaving Jazzy Tee’s strip club, Dennis was approached by Daron who he had not seen in over a year. Daron had heard of all of the heavy hitters that Dennis was affiliated with and wondered why he had not came to see him with some business propositions. Dennis provided Daron with several insults. This was in regard to the murders that he apparently had set up and needed a stranger to serve as the fall guy. As Daron tried to explain about that being a test, Dennis took a knife and shoved it into his chest. With nobody around but one young looking stripper, Dennis got into his new 2005 Mercedes and drove off. Dennis circled around and stopped in front of the woman. He assured her that he knew where she worked and that she was to never mention anything. She agreed as Daron, who usually doesn’t travel alone, died right there soaked in blood. Dennis was out of control. The murders kept piling up weekly. His basement has the feel of death. His love for Purgatory was apparent. Some nights Dennis would sit in the kitchen with no lights on and write the darkest poems and haiku his mind could imagine. He imagined being immortalized in the history books. During a book signing at the local Barnes and Nobles by Author Zane, Dennis ran into a familiar face. The woman that he had never forgot about on his first day in the city, sat on a couch reading and looking great as ever. She was also the same angel in the club that night that Steve Rogers had taken him to. Dennis walked over to speak. A new saga begins and ends.
Part 11: The Woman in Red
Tina Green introduced herself to Dennis with that same smile. Inside he didn’t know if his urges could be maintained long enough for him to get her alone for an extended period of time. Days, weeks and months went by as Dennis and Tina became very close. The murders didn’t happen as often due to the fact that Tina was starting to spend more time at his home. The basement was off limits of course. Tina had no idea she was dating a certified serial killer who had the charisma of a rock star. Dennis had the “Mask of Sanity” layered over his face but underneath the attractive features was the heart and mind of a psychopath. Who knew that the chubby kid who grew into a basketball star eventually became the first cousin of Ted Bundy instead of Magic Johnson? This was a different game that he played. “Another missing woman: The family offers A Reward” was located on news papers and bulletins all over the city. Dennis caused families pain all over the city. Atlanta made national news for what authorities believed to be series of events by the same individual or group. Tina and Dennis spent more and more time together. Dennis wanted to love her and kill her all at the same time. He had a spot for her downstairs but was scared that he just might miss her voice and the red juicy lips that he had gotten so acquainted with. A cool breeze moved Tina’s long hair in a tornado like motion as they stood on the balcony drinking Washington Riesling. This was both of their wine of choice. As Dennis leaned over the balcony he heard a popping sound and felt a sharp pain in his back and neck. Falling to the floor his vision became blurry. Tina turned him around as the small gun smoked in her hand. This was truly the art of deception. Dennis looked up knowing that he had about 5 minutes left before his time was up. Tina informed Dennis that Daron was her brother and she use to partner with Steve Rogers for more than five years. She had been in the parking lot the night that he had killed Daron slumped down in a seat of a car that Dennis apparently didn't see. She kept her emotions under control for months, sleeping with the enemy. Daron was her brother and Steve was her partner, Dennis thought as he faded in and out of consciousness. They had gone to collect money together. Tina was indeed the same woman in the club that night who came over to the table to speak with Steve. Dennis made small talk and recognized her face. Dennis knew that she was the first and last woman that he would see in Atlanta. His eyes closed as she headed to the basement for more answers. This was revenge at its finest. What she rumbled through over the next few hours had police, detectives, forensic specialist and others puzzled as they looked through Dennis belongings. The neighbors were all in the street with concern. Dennis appeared to be very friendly to them and they had no idea that he had The Inferno in his basement. Tina had made an anonymous call to the police that the serial killer had been found. The next day the news papers read all over the nation “Atlanta’s serial killer Dennis Blackwell murdered last night by an unidentified woman in red according to a homeless guy, who watched her drive off”.
The End
Part 1: Virginia to Georgia
At the stop light Dennis looked over at the most beautiful woman he had seen in years. Her car was a 2003 Honda Accord. It was candy-apple red and resembled the lipstick that she gently placed on her juicy lips before the light turned green.. As populated as this area has become Dennis realized that he might never see this woman again. His hands went into a greeting motion as she smiled. The green light insured that this introduction was over. Dennis made a left on Peachtree St. to find a hotel. Atlanta, Georgia has been a city widely recognized for several of the nation’s top insurance headquarters. Dennis had moved down to the area during the very hot summer of 2004 for a change of scenery. Dennis Blackwell left a complicated life that would cause the average man to loose his sanity. In a 3 month span he was demoted at his company, his wife divorced him, his mentor from his youth passed away and his best friend was killed in a plane crash. Dennis saved a stash of money from work and the death of his two closest companions left him financially set. Dennis proceeded down Highway 85 South for a new beginning.
Part 2: Making Friends
Standing in line at the Atlanta Hawks basketball game Dennis met a ticket scalper named Steve Rogers. Steve was a fast, slick talking hustle man who apparently sold tickets fairly often outside of The Omni. People spoke to him with friendly smiles as he persuaded Dennis to get out of line and purchase one of his tickets. Dennis decided to pass and handed his $50.00 to the older gentlemen behind the glass window. Dennis played ball in college and stood an even 6’3. After the game Dennis decided to hit the town and serenade his first weekend in the city they call “Hotlanta”. Taking the flyer off of his windshield, Steve from earlier approached Dennis with another proposition. It was close to 11:30 pm and Dennis was on foreign territory with a stranger getting on his nerves. Dennis is a very impatient individual. After small talk Steve told Dennis that he could show him all of the areas where the ladies would be in abundance. Dennis was apprehensive with Steve’s gestures. Steve stood beside a 2005 Lexus and hit the alarm. Steve was a short Caucasian fellow who stood about 5’7 in height and a stomach that resembled countless Bud Lights and Corona’s. He informed Dennis that he had all of the connections and could get him V.I.P. in any club or strip joint in the area. Dennis took Steve’s card and headed to the closest highway. Tired now, Dennis decided to forgo the nightlife and head back to the Ramada.
Part 3: In the Heat of the Night
The alarm clock and room service attacked Dennis at 7:45 am. The date was Saturday May 27th 2004. During breakfast Dennis knew he had to map out finding an apartment downtown, a job, and all of the essentials when a person moves to an entirely different environment. Dennis had a huge bank account because his best friend left him with his assets. Walter was Dennis best friend since grade school and was a professional football player for the Baltimore Ravens. Walter never knew where his family was and grew up in group homes. He was killed less than 6 months ago coming back from vacation with a young lady that he had been dating for about a year. Dennis left the waiter a tip and went back to his room to relax. Looking at highlights on ESPN Dennis came across the business card of Steve Rogers. Boredom had taken its toll as the clock struck 6pm. Dennis had fallen back to sleep and wasted his entire Saturday. The weather outside was 80 degrees and the unlikely breeze crept into the window by way of the balcony. Steve invited Dennis to a private party and after an hour in the establishment, Dennis knew that Steve was into more than he could have imagined. This was the birthday party of Daron Patterson, the biggest drug dealer and gangster in the entire metropolitan area. Dennis had read about him in the news but Daron had all of his money tied into several private businesses so the FBI and IRS had the hardest time trying to nail him. They failed on two tax evasion convictions and an attempted murder charge. All charges had been dropped on his birthday, ironically. Dennis sat at the bar with a gin and juice trying to figure out how his life took so many turns over the past year.
Part 4: He never saw it coming…
After the party, Dennis decided to park his car and ride with Steve Rogers to another after hours spot. The women were all over the place showing a lot more body than clothes. The Dj played classic 80’s Hip Hop as Steve spoke to a few of the major players in the dark disco type room. Dennis tapped his feet to the sound of Eric B. and Rakim’s track “I Know You Got Soul”. The James Brown sampled song use to be one of his personal favorites. Steve walked into the back office room with Daron and a few other guys leaving Dennis in the club alone to mingle. This was no problem for Dennis who was seen as a very handsome man to the ladies over the years. He sat there with a lovely dark skinned woman who had made her way to his table. She resembled the woman he saw at the stop light during the previous Friday evening. It was her. The lipstick she pulled out her purse was a match on site. What a lucky night for Dennis as they traded cell phone numbers. A few minutes later, Steve walked out sweating and anxious telling Dennis that it was time to go. He rushed Dennis to the car and they drove away from Club 112. As Steve darted between cars on the highway Dennis knew that something was wrong. Steve swiftly drove up the ramp and made a sharp right to stop at a closed gas station. Dennis had mixed feelings about what was going on. A van pulled behind him and stopped. Daron and another guy stepped out and unlocked the back doors of the van. Dennis never saw this coming…
Part 5: Guilty by Association
Steve stepped out of the car and embraced Daron. Another one of Daron’s friends knocked on Dennis door motioning for him to get out. Reluctantly, Dennis stepped out and stood in place. A tall guy with a black suit on opened the van door and Dennis noticed that there were two men lying there handcuffed and tied at the feet with rope. Dennis stepped back and alluded to Steve that he was walking off. Daron looked at him with a sinister look and stated that he had a job for him to do. Daron walked over to Dennis and informed him that these two guys were responsible for the death of his fiancé and his biggest money maker. They were killed as they left a club over a month ago and Daron had been after them. Dennis wanted to know why Steve was so invested in this affair. Dennis explained that this was not his lifestyle and he had just moved from Virginia to live in peace. Daron could care less. “Your here now” said Daron, as he glanced to the tall guy in the suit. Steve knew about this and had put Dennis right in the middle of two potential murders. Daron’s friend handed Dennis a huge gun that resembled a 44 magnum and stated that two shots to each head would do it. Dennis hesitated putting his hand out but the quietness of the night, led him to believe that if he didn’t shoot these guys, he would be killed himself. Dennis was guilty by association and it started a few days ago at an Atlanta Hawks basketball game…
Part 6: A Long Ride Home or Somewhere…
The blood splashed all over the interior of the van. Dennis couldn’t believe what had just taken place. Two men murdered in a matter of seconds and just think, this was his first time ever holding a gun. A sense of power overtook his hands. The rush that he felt was addictive. Standing there in shock and in ecstasy, Steve had to grab the gun back. Daron was moved by the ease that Dennis displayed murdering his rivals. Daron handed Steve a stack of hundred dollar bills and drove off. As Dennis and Steve rode on the highway in silence, it appeared that it was going to be a long ride home. Dennis didn’t understand why nobody from Daron’s crew or Steve didn’t follow threw with this obvious hit instead of a total stranger. As Steve drove off the highway and stopped in the parking space at the club where Dennis car was, he was hit by a bullet to his throat.
Part 7: The Start of something new…the past revisted…
Dennis sat there watching Steve take his last breath. Dennis smiled as the extra gun he had in his coat pocket burned with passion. This was all he needed to get back to his old self. A reminder of where he found happiness and redemption at. As a child, Dennis was always picked on. Until his growth spurt he was always considered to be a short, semi-fat kid, who couldn’t play sports or fight. Of course the girls never liked him until he grew over 10 inches in 2 years and made the Varsity basketball team. Dennis held so much pain inside. Throughout college and the first few years of his professional career, he had to adjust to the attention and fake friends. Dennis considered Walter to be his only friend from childhood who never let him down and never told anyone his secrets. In 1994 Dennis was a senior in high school, the star guard on the team and of course the lucky guy to date the captain on the cheer leading squad Tiffany Miller. Tiffany was about 5’6, long straight hair, and a complexion that resembled a Navaho Indian. Tiffany was black and Indian with a great looking body and attitude to match. The only drawback was her previous boyfriend was a local hustler who dropped out of school and started a street gang called the Get Busy Crew. She didn’t want that life and had been accepted to attend college at The University of Florida. Antoine never had any desire to let her go, so during Dennis last year or so in high school; Antoine always seemed to show up at his games. They had traded words before but Dennis had a scholarship to attend UNC-Chapel Hill where he played 3 years on the team before suffering a career ending knee injury. One night after leaving a movie Dennis and Tiffany were confronted by Antoine and some of his loser friends. After jumping on Dennis and giving his girlfriend a nice beating as well, they drove off leaving the two beaten in a dark parking lot. Walter came to their aid and took them to the hospital. Walter was furious as his 6’8, 322 pound frame busted from out the car. Walter loved Dennis and would do anything for him. That was his brother. Tiffany parents came to the hospital to see her as Dennis and Walter were headed out. They informed them about what happened in detail as a Police walked up. Tiffany was going to be ok but did get smacked around pretty good. Dennis had a bruise or two but he was a tough kid from being beat up so much as a child. After a brief conversation, they were allowed to leave the hospital. Dennis had Tiffany license and other items in his car but lied and told them that he had to go find her stuff. Dennis mentor was also given the same story. Dennis has so much pain held inside from being abandoned by his parents that he had to release it. The neighborhood Pool Hall was a place where the criminals gathered. Across the street Dennis and Walter cased the joint and waited for Antoine to come out.
Part 8: Time for a Change
A few guys walked out and left the building. Antoine walked out with a female friend and headed to his 2005 BMW blasting Tupac. Dennis hands were sweaty and his heartbeat pumped at a dangerous rate as he put the silencer on the gun he had stolen from his mentor’s house. He was an ex-detective. Five shots put Antoine to the ground as his female friend also caught a stray bullet to the temple. As blood splashed everywhere Dennis and Walter ran to the car and rushed to Walter’s apartment. Friends of the program had already given Walter money because he was an All American lineman in school. Dennis sat there with his hands shaking. Walter thought that Dennis was mad but bluffing about his intentions as they headed to the Pool Hall. Walter noticed that Dennis had another rage locked inside of him but promised to never let out his secret or talk to any authorities. Time went on and they never talked about it again. A year later Dennis and Tiffany broke things off but decided to remain friends. The more things change, the more they stay the same. Dennis dumped Steve’s body in the back of an alley and set his car on fire a few blocks away. Daron was next were the next thoughts that came to Dennis mind as he took a taxi back to the empty parking lot where his car was still parked. Dennis was starting to feel happiness again.
Part 9: Getting adjusted to the area…
After 3 months of searching for an apartment Dennis found a 3000 square ft. townhouse on the south end area of downtown Atlanta. The place was already painted and was very classy and expensive. Dennis silently thanked Walter for leaving him with almost 1.5 million dollars in his Will. What a friend, Dennis thought as he sat on the sofa. The house came fully furnished with a mixture of European and Greek artifacts. Woman would love it. And soon enough, they did. The nights and days became one and the same. Parties, clubs, woman, and drugs became Dennis’s new regime. Gloria, Dennis ex-wife called him a few times since his departure from Virginia but he never called her back. There was no need for any reconciliation with the Atlanta nightlife providing Dennis with pure visions of Utopia. One night as Dennis sat in his living room with two lovely woman his urge to find happiness took control of him again. As they sat there drinking wine and cocktails, Dennis excused himself to the restroom. Dennis was use to having sex with two women at a time. He did have money, a nice home, a growing reputation with some major players and access to whatever drugs popular on the streets. Dennis reached into his favorite bag and walked to the living room. The women were high and drunk out of their minds. With the silencer locked tight, Dennis used the thing that made him happiest to end their lives. Killing them dead without sound, Dennis smiled and grabbed the axe and plastic bags. The huge basement became a cemetery for some of the most beautiful cheerleaders, models, strippers, and par-tiers in the entire area. Dennis victims made the news papers in bundles. The missing person’s report grew to an all time high during his first 12 months in the city.
Part 10: A Familiar Face
One night leaving Jazzy Tee’s strip club, Dennis was approached by Daron who he had not seen in over a year. Daron had heard of all of the heavy hitters that Dennis was affiliated with and wondered why he had not came to see him with some business propositions. Dennis provided Daron with several insults. This was in regard to the murders that he apparently had set up and needed a stranger to serve as the fall guy. As Daron tried to explain about that being a test, Dennis took a knife and shoved it into his chest. With nobody around but one young looking stripper, Dennis got into his new 2005 Mercedes and drove off. Dennis circled around and stopped in front of the woman. He assured her that he knew where she worked and that she was to never mention anything. She agreed as Daron, who usually doesn’t travel alone, died right there soaked in blood. Dennis was out of control. The murders kept piling up weekly. His basement has the feel of death. His love for Purgatory was apparent. Some nights Dennis would sit in the kitchen with no lights on and write the darkest poems and haiku his mind could imagine. He imagined being immortalized in the history books. During a book signing at the local Barnes and Nobles by Author Zane, Dennis ran into a familiar face. The woman that he had never forgot about on his first day in the city, sat on a couch reading and looking great as ever. She was also the same angel in the club that night that Steve Rogers had taken him to. Dennis walked over to speak. A new saga begins and ends.
Part 11: The Woman in Red
Tina Green introduced herself to Dennis with that same smile. Inside he didn’t know if his urges could be maintained long enough for him to get her alone for an extended period of time. Days, weeks and months went by as Dennis and Tina became very close. The murders didn’t happen as often due to the fact that Tina was starting to spend more time at his home. The basement was off limits of course. Tina had no idea she was dating a certified serial killer who had the charisma of a rock star. Dennis had the “Mask of Sanity” layered over his face but underneath the attractive features was the heart and mind of a psychopath. Who knew that the chubby kid who grew into a basketball star eventually became the first cousin of Ted Bundy instead of Magic Johnson? This was a different game that he played. “Another missing woman: The family offers A Reward” was located on news papers and bulletins all over the city. Dennis caused families pain all over the city. Atlanta made national news for what authorities believed to be series of events by the same individual or group. Tina and Dennis spent more and more time together. Dennis wanted to love her and kill her all at the same time. He had a spot for her downstairs but was scared that he just might miss her voice and the red juicy lips that he had gotten so acquainted with. A cool breeze moved Tina’s long hair in a tornado like motion as they stood on the balcony drinking Washington Riesling. This was both of their wine of choice. As Dennis leaned over the balcony he heard a popping sound and felt a sharp pain in his back and neck. Falling to the floor his vision became blurry. Tina turned him around as the small gun smoked in her hand. This was truly the art of deception. Dennis looked up knowing that he had about 5 minutes left before his time was up. Tina informed Dennis that Daron was her brother and she use to partner with Steve Rogers for more than five years. She had been in the parking lot the night that he had killed Daron slumped down in a seat of a car that Dennis apparently didn't see. She kept her emotions under control for months, sleeping with the enemy. Daron was her brother and Steve was her partner, Dennis thought as he faded in and out of consciousness. They had gone to collect money together. Tina was indeed the same woman in the club that night who came over to the table to speak with Steve. Dennis made small talk and recognized her face. Dennis knew that she was the first and last woman that he would see in Atlanta. His eyes closed as she headed to the basement for more answers. This was revenge at its finest. What she rumbled through over the next few hours had police, detectives, forensic specialist and others puzzled as they looked through Dennis belongings. The neighbors were all in the street with concern. Dennis appeared to be very friendly to them and they had no idea that he had The Inferno in his basement. Tina had made an anonymous call to the police that the serial killer had been found. The next day the news papers read all over the nation “Atlanta’s serial killer Dennis Blackwell murdered last night by an unidentified woman in red according to a homeless guy, who watched her drive off”.
The End
“The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet” (Short Story-Rough Draft)
Rough Draft (2008)
“The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet” (Part 1: Tip The Waitress)
One more glass of Chardonnay and its time for a taxi were the thoughts that crossed my mind. The magnet of this fallen angel’s rendition of Billy Holiday’s “These Foolish Things” had me thinking about all of the foolish things, I might do during this trip to Chicago. The feel of a business trip quickly turned into pleasure upon my arrival. The date was July 3, 2005 and I was a month away from the biggest raise of my life. I had to celebrate! As I glanced at the miniature stage, the waitress approached me with a drink and what appeared to be a business card. At the bar, sat a young lady that smiled at me as her hand toasted the air. I toasted back with a confident grin. The club reminded me of a scene from the movie Harlem Nights. The people, all dressed in vintage attire, had me feeling like I was on a 1930’s movie set. I sat the empty glass on the table. My pager went off as the new singer taking the stage played “In A Sentimental Mood” by the late great Duke Ellington. I sat back in a sofa like chair nodding my head proudly because the was originally written in my home state of North Carolina. The pager read “Meet me in Las Vegas on the 18th”. I ignored the gesture. Curiosity caused me to look back at the bar for the Nubian queen sent me this drink. I had somehow lost track of time. The bar was without a soul as I placed a twenty dollar tip on the table and headed out the door. “Taxi”, I yelled.
“The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet” (Part 2: Love Come Back To Me)
The bright lights on Michigan Avenue blended well with the poetic sounds of Miles Davis that played in the background, as I rode in a surprisingly clean cab. Maybe after the seminar tomorrow I will go back to “The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet”, to see if I could possibly return the favor and buy this woman a drink. Better yet, a date would be more suitable since I have only 2 more days left. “Where you from?” stated the driver as a cigarette almost fell from his bushy mouth. Durham, North Carolina I said as thoughts of a romantic night with my imaginary friend coasted up and down the beaches of my brain. After small talk I ended up at the Hilton. After check-in responsibilities were satisfied, I walked down to the entertainment room to see what the commotion in the lobby was all about. As I approached the lounge area I heard Ella Fitzgerald’s “Love Come Back To Me”. Damn! The singer was none other than the young lady who got me that drink. I pulled out the business card that I paid no attention to earlier in “The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet”. It was indeed her. I smiled with enthusiasm.
“The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet” (Part 3: A Flight Home or Back to the Bar?)
Standing in the back area I looked over a shorter couple and caught the magical eyes of Dana Williams. That is the name on the fl yer posted outside of the lounge. At that moment I forgot about my presentation in the morning for Bayer Medical Supplies. A text by my Department Manager stated that I needed to return back after Day 1 of the seminar due to an emergency audit that was abruptly scheduled. “Just my luck” were my thoughts as I frowned closing my phone with anger, wishing that I had one more day. My flight leaves around 3pm but it would be incomplete without at least one conversation with Dana. Why did she leave without speaking earlier? Should I have been more gracious and approached her at the bar? Maybe I’m just too reserved. I can’t believe this, a two day trip to the Wind City for a meeting and time is definitely not on my side. Dana’s silky voice hit a higher note as she transitioned into “My Ideal” by Sara Vaughn. The medium sized crowd applauded and screamed sounds of pleasure. She was good! I squeezed my 195 pound frame through the satisfied listeners making my way closer to the vocalist. After a 45 minute set I felt like I was back at “The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet” with that Chardonnay resting in my palms. “Dana Williams and your name is?” Oh, it’s Chavon. Her beauty generated sweat on the palms of my hands. “Sorry I had to leave earlier but as you can see, I had an appointment” Dana said with the best Colgate smile I'd ever seen. We sat at the end of the stage. The introduction lasted over an hour before Dana had to excuse herself. On her way to the door as people from all walks of life patted her on the back and asked for pictures, a man and 2 young kids ran to her aid. I felt like I was in first grade with a crush. I snapped a shot on my cell phone as she turned around and waved. From 30, 000 feet I could see the Chicago skyline as turbulence smacked me back to reality.
" The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet" (Part 4: I use to call this place HOME)
As my Miller Lite rattled during God's argument with the heavens I thought about my Chicago experience and the incompleteness of it all. I hate plane rides. When my alarm clock bangs in about 12 hours I will be back to normalcy but this cry is far from political. Her physical stuck in my consciousness and a mental picture of "The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet" kept Dana on my mind. My I-Pod played Eryka Badu's "Next Lifetime" as I read through the pages of An Abstract World written by one of my favorite literary figures Anthony Hanes. I figured that was indeed her family that greeted her after the show, after our conversation, and most of all, at a moment where I was nervous around a woman, for the first time in years. I laughed after glancing at a short story called "Vagina" as Jay-Z's song "D'Evils" off the classic album Reasonable Doubt blasted in my right ear. I had evil intentions for a married woman but I doubt she shared the same vision. She was just being friendly. Maybe she liked the hat that I rocked at "The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet" so she might had figured "Why not, I'll buy this handsome man a drink". And just think, I've been on a 2 hour flight thinking about a bunch of nothing. I landed around 5:30 pm in Raleigh, North Carolina. When I put my keys to the door I noticed a letter that had fallen to the floor. Opening it I saw that Shannon wanted a Divorce……Damn!
“The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet” (Part 5: What did a brother do?)
The porch is where I found solitude for the next 120 minutes as I tried to make sense of it all. Yeah, I desired a date with Dana but that was just a pipe dream. I had never cheated on my wife. Well, once while we dated in college but she forgave me for that so I thought. Where did the sudden change of heart come from? I called John to get his take on things. John was my best friend in college and a fraternity brother of mine. He had been happily married for 8 years so I figured advice from him wouldn’t be a bad idea. “She did what?” as John’s voice screamed through my cell phone. We talked for at least an hour as I glanced at the cars going by from the porch. Walking through the house, I could see a few pictures gone off the walls and needless to say, her side of the closet was empty. My soul felt empty. Having a weekend crush during a business meeting should not have warranted a divorce. Shannon couldn't have read my mind 5 States away! We haven't had a legit argument in at least 2 years. Our families get along and we were looking for a new house and thought about purchasing a timeshare. What did a brother do? I had to prepare for work in the morning. After calling Shannon cell phone, her parent’s house and her silly best friend Keisha, I fell asleep on the couch. I guess caller I.D. kept my love away. What the hell did a brother do?
“The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet” (Part 6: One day it will all make sense.)
During the ride to work I thought of every possible thing that could have caused Shannon to do this. Was it another man? Did someone see me in Chicago? Nah, I only sat in a hotel lounge and had a conversation with a stranger. OK, that couldn’t be it. I had not messed around on my wife so this was all crazy to me. It was a quiet day at work. I made a few sales and contacts with my contract people nationwide before logging off at 4:45 pm. I knew that my team was ready for the audit. John’s number popped on my cell phone but I declined to answer. I needed to think things over again. I called Shannon cell phone on my way to her mother’s house. I needed answers! I needed them ASAP! Knocking on the glass a strange maid opened the door and led me in to the living room area. Shannon people had money. A lot of it! As a couple, we never allowed them to help us in any way financially. Hell, I make $125k annually & Shannon makes more than that. They had always been nice to me but not on this day. Her family member’s walked pass me like I wasn’t there. I was confused! I spoke but nobody appeared interested in me. What in the world is going on? I couldn’t make sense of any of this. Her mother walked by and looked straight threw me. She loved me and had been calling me her son since my junior year at UNC. I called her Mom! Shannon walked in the living room and grabbed a glass from the coffee table directly in front of me. “Shannon, can we talk? What is going on?” were the words that poured from my soul. “It’s been 2 years Shannon and you haven’t moved on.” Said Rita, who was Shannon mother. “Mom, you have no idea how much Chavon has always meant to me.” Said Shannon as other family members walked into the living room. Donald came in with a newspaper. Donald was her older brother and we use to play basketball together but hadn’t played in at least 2 years. Donald was my dude. He was very cool and treated me with the utmost respect from day one. He was a stand-up guy just as all of her immediate family members. My family loved the Smith's. Was I dreaming all of this? Was I becoming mentally ill or having some type of psychological breakdown? I sat in the living room feeling all alone.
“The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet” (Part 7: Reality is hard to swallow: The Newpaper)
Donald put the newspaper down in front of me but didn’t speak. I picked it up and it was highlighted in the obituary section. Bayer’s top seller was murdered in Chicago during business trip. Who was the top seller were my thoughts? Then it hit me, the paper was dated June 3rd 2005 and that is when I realized I was no longer in the physical. The night Dana walked out the hotel after our talk on stage, I went back to “The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet” to catch the late night show. I thought that Dana Williams would show up with her family. I needed one last glance. A man stopped me as I walked down the sidewalk and asked for a few bucks. That was all that I truly remembered as I sit here watching Shannon family talk about how beautiful our marriage was. I was dead. I was a murder victim. I was still sitting here hesitating to open the pearly gates and walk in. I was trying to hold on to the physical world. Shannon eyes watered as Rita hugged her gently. “Chavon, is in a better place now baby” she cried. I got up and headed to the front door knowing that this was my final goodbye. I turned around, blew a kiss to Shannon and closed the door to my marriage and connection to this world. Not knowing if I would have ever cheated during my Chicago trip, I took the hands of two angels and made my way to the Heavens. God indeed forgives.
The End
“The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet” (Part 1: Tip The Waitress)
One more glass of Chardonnay and its time for a taxi were the thoughts that crossed my mind. The magnet of this fallen angel’s rendition of Billy Holiday’s “These Foolish Things” had me thinking about all of the foolish things, I might do during this trip to Chicago. The feel of a business trip quickly turned into pleasure upon my arrival. The date was July 3, 2005 and I was a month away from the biggest raise of my life. I had to celebrate! As I glanced at the miniature stage, the waitress approached me with a drink and what appeared to be a business card. At the bar, sat a young lady that smiled at me as her hand toasted the air. I toasted back with a confident grin. The club reminded me of a scene from the movie Harlem Nights. The people, all dressed in vintage attire, had me feeling like I was on a 1930’s movie set. I sat the empty glass on the table. My pager went off as the new singer taking the stage played “In A Sentimental Mood” by the late great Duke Ellington. I sat back in a sofa like chair nodding my head proudly because the was originally written in my home state of North Carolina. The pager read “Meet me in Las Vegas on the 18th”. I ignored the gesture. Curiosity caused me to look back at the bar for the Nubian queen sent me this drink. I had somehow lost track of time. The bar was without a soul as I placed a twenty dollar tip on the table and headed out the door. “Taxi”, I yelled.
“The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet” (Part 2: Love Come Back To Me)
The bright lights on Michigan Avenue blended well with the poetic sounds of Miles Davis that played in the background, as I rode in a surprisingly clean cab. Maybe after the seminar tomorrow I will go back to “The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet”, to see if I could possibly return the favor and buy this woman a drink. Better yet, a date would be more suitable since I have only 2 more days left. “Where you from?” stated the driver as a cigarette almost fell from his bushy mouth. Durham, North Carolina I said as thoughts of a romantic night with my imaginary friend coasted up and down the beaches of my brain. After small talk I ended up at the Hilton. After check-in responsibilities were satisfied, I walked down to the entertainment room to see what the commotion in the lobby was all about. As I approached the lounge area I heard Ella Fitzgerald’s “Love Come Back To Me”. Damn! The singer was none other than the young lady who got me that drink. I pulled out the business card that I paid no attention to earlier in “The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet”. It was indeed her. I smiled with enthusiasm.
“The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet” (Part 3: A Flight Home or Back to the Bar?)
Standing in the back area I looked over a shorter couple and caught the magical eyes of Dana Williams. That is the name on the fl yer posted outside of the lounge. At that moment I forgot about my presentation in the morning for Bayer Medical Supplies. A text by my Department Manager stated that I needed to return back after Day 1 of the seminar due to an emergency audit that was abruptly scheduled. “Just my luck” were my thoughts as I frowned closing my phone with anger, wishing that I had one more day. My flight leaves around 3pm but it would be incomplete without at least one conversation with Dana. Why did she leave without speaking earlier? Should I have been more gracious and approached her at the bar? Maybe I’m just too reserved. I can’t believe this, a two day trip to the Wind City for a meeting and time is definitely not on my side. Dana’s silky voice hit a higher note as she transitioned into “My Ideal” by Sara Vaughn. The medium sized crowd applauded and screamed sounds of pleasure. She was good! I squeezed my 195 pound frame through the satisfied listeners making my way closer to the vocalist. After a 45 minute set I felt like I was back at “The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet” with that Chardonnay resting in my palms. “Dana Williams and your name is?” Oh, it’s Chavon. Her beauty generated sweat on the palms of my hands. “Sorry I had to leave earlier but as you can see, I had an appointment” Dana said with the best Colgate smile I'd ever seen. We sat at the end of the stage. The introduction lasted over an hour before Dana had to excuse herself. On her way to the door as people from all walks of life patted her on the back and asked for pictures, a man and 2 young kids ran to her aid. I felt like I was in first grade with a crush. I snapped a shot on my cell phone as she turned around and waved. From 30, 000 feet I could see the Chicago skyline as turbulence smacked me back to reality.
" The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet" (Part 4: I use to call this place HOME)
As my Miller Lite rattled during God's argument with the heavens I thought about my Chicago experience and the incompleteness of it all. I hate plane rides. When my alarm clock bangs in about 12 hours I will be back to normalcy but this cry is far from political. Her physical stuck in my consciousness and a mental picture of "The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet" kept Dana on my mind. My I-Pod played Eryka Badu's "Next Lifetime" as I read through the pages of An Abstract World written by one of my favorite literary figures Anthony Hanes. I figured that was indeed her family that greeted her after the show, after our conversation, and most of all, at a moment where I was nervous around a woman, for the first time in years. I laughed after glancing at a short story called "Vagina" as Jay-Z's song "D'Evils" off the classic album Reasonable Doubt blasted in my right ear. I had evil intentions for a married woman but I doubt she shared the same vision. She was just being friendly. Maybe she liked the hat that I rocked at "The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet" so she might had figured "Why not, I'll buy this handsome man a drink". And just think, I've been on a 2 hour flight thinking about a bunch of nothing. I landed around 5:30 pm in Raleigh, North Carolina. When I put my keys to the door I noticed a letter that had fallen to the floor. Opening it I saw that Shannon wanted a Divorce……Damn!
“The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet” (Part 5: What did a brother do?)
The porch is where I found solitude for the next 120 minutes as I tried to make sense of it all. Yeah, I desired a date with Dana but that was just a pipe dream. I had never cheated on my wife. Well, once while we dated in college but she forgave me for that so I thought. Where did the sudden change of heart come from? I called John to get his take on things. John was my best friend in college and a fraternity brother of mine. He had been happily married for 8 years so I figured advice from him wouldn’t be a bad idea. “She did what?” as John’s voice screamed through my cell phone. We talked for at least an hour as I glanced at the cars going by from the porch. Walking through the house, I could see a few pictures gone off the walls and needless to say, her side of the closet was empty. My soul felt empty. Having a weekend crush during a business meeting should not have warranted a divorce. Shannon couldn't have read my mind 5 States away! We haven't had a legit argument in at least 2 years. Our families get along and we were looking for a new house and thought about purchasing a timeshare. What did a brother do? I had to prepare for work in the morning. After calling Shannon cell phone, her parent’s house and her silly best friend Keisha, I fell asleep on the couch. I guess caller I.D. kept my love away. What the hell did a brother do?
“The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet” (Part 6: One day it will all make sense.)
During the ride to work I thought of every possible thing that could have caused Shannon to do this. Was it another man? Did someone see me in Chicago? Nah, I only sat in a hotel lounge and had a conversation with a stranger. OK, that couldn’t be it. I had not messed around on my wife so this was all crazy to me. It was a quiet day at work. I made a few sales and contacts with my contract people nationwide before logging off at 4:45 pm. I knew that my team was ready for the audit. John’s number popped on my cell phone but I declined to answer. I needed to think things over again. I called Shannon cell phone on my way to her mother’s house. I needed answers! I needed them ASAP! Knocking on the glass a strange maid opened the door and led me in to the living room area. Shannon people had money. A lot of it! As a couple, we never allowed them to help us in any way financially. Hell, I make $125k annually & Shannon makes more than that. They had always been nice to me but not on this day. Her family member’s walked pass me like I wasn’t there. I was confused! I spoke but nobody appeared interested in me. What in the world is going on? I couldn’t make sense of any of this. Her mother walked by and looked straight threw me. She loved me and had been calling me her son since my junior year at UNC. I called her Mom! Shannon walked in the living room and grabbed a glass from the coffee table directly in front of me. “Shannon, can we talk? What is going on?” were the words that poured from my soul. “It’s been 2 years Shannon and you haven’t moved on.” Said Rita, who was Shannon mother. “Mom, you have no idea how much Chavon has always meant to me.” Said Shannon as other family members walked into the living room. Donald came in with a newspaper. Donald was her older brother and we use to play basketball together but hadn’t played in at least 2 years. Donald was my dude. He was very cool and treated me with the utmost respect from day one. He was a stand-up guy just as all of her immediate family members. My family loved the Smith's. Was I dreaming all of this? Was I becoming mentally ill or having some type of psychological breakdown? I sat in the living room feeling all alone.
“The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet” (Part 7: Reality is hard to swallow: The Newpaper)
Donald put the newspaper down in front of me but didn’t speak. I picked it up and it was highlighted in the obituary section. Bayer’s top seller was murdered in Chicago during business trip. Who was the top seller were my thoughts? Then it hit me, the paper was dated June 3rd 2005 and that is when I realized I was no longer in the physical. The night Dana walked out the hotel after our talk on stage, I went back to “The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet” to catch the late night show. I thought that Dana Williams would show up with her family. I needed one last glance. A man stopped me as I walked down the sidewalk and asked for a few bucks. That was all that I truly remembered as I sit here watching Shannon family talk about how beautiful our marriage was. I was dead. I was a murder victim. I was still sitting here hesitating to open the pearly gates and walk in. I was trying to hold on to the physical world. Shannon eyes watered as Rita hugged her gently. “Chavon, is in a better place now baby” she cried. I got up and headed to the front door knowing that this was my final goodbye. I turned around, blew a kiss to Shannon and closed the door to my marriage and connection to this world. Not knowing if I would have ever cheated during my Chicago trip, I took the hands of two angels and made my way to the Heavens. God indeed forgives.
The End
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
“We Believe” #9/1/2012
“We Believe” #Revised
“Nārāyana Guru (1856–1928), the prolific poet, philosopher, and social reformer is believed to have attained enlightenment (i.e., an absolute state of wisdom) after his several years of education in languages, the scriptures of the different religions, yoga, and experiences with ascetic life, culminating in his long and meditative recluse in Maruthwamala hills in South India. Nārāyana Guru’s philosophical masterpiece “Atmopadeśa Śatakam” (100 verses of self-instruction) is primarily the Guru’s poetic expression of his philosophy of universal love, emanating from his experienced state of primordial knowledge of the Universe, and his consequent ability to view the human race as one of a species, in unqualified equality and without any racial, religious, caste, or other discriminations whatsoever.” In Hebrew, Ahava is the most commonly used term for both interpersonal love and love of God.
*wikipedia
To love is to live
Love forgives,
even in the ugliest "storms".
Rain pours,
but four letters provide,
a never-ending "umbrella".
Yellow and Orange images,
are visible in the midst of a "rainbow".
I reach for you…
"We Believe”
As we stretch open arms,
the "clouds" cry no more.
Smiles make themselves visible from the "Heavens".
A pot of gold sparkled,
as laughter echoed the "blue skies"
Our pledge is eternal…we glow in elation
"We Believe”
Chains of passion,
transcend doubt into reality.
With me,
you are protected by the armor of "King Authur".
The round table,
is covered with "pillows".
To harm you is to challenge my love,
to the death I fight.
“We Believe”
To love is to live,
so I pray for many moons.
In my arms you sleep quietly.
I look at your facial structure…"My Nefertiti"
As the sheep slowly battle each eye-blink,
I hope we sink in a Titanic of “Ahava”
"We Believe”
The End
“Nārāyana Guru (1856–1928), the prolific poet, philosopher, and social reformer is believed to have attained enlightenment (i.e., an absolute state of wisdom) after his several years of education in languages, the scriptures of the different religions, yoga, and experiences with ascetic life, culminating in his long and meditative recluse in Maruthwamala hills in South India. Nārāyana Guru’s philosophical masterpiece “Atmopadeśa Śatakam” (100 verses of self-instruction) is primarily the Guru’s poetic expression of his philosophy of universal love, emanating from his experienced state of primordial knowledge of the Universe, and his consequent ability to view the human race as one of a species, in unqualified equality and without any racial, religious, caste, or other discriminations whatsoever.” In Hebrew, Ahava is the most commonly used term for both interpersonal love and love of God.
*wikipedia
To love is to live
Love forgives,
even in the ugliest "storms".
Rain pours,
but four letters provide,
a never-ending "umbrella".
Yellow and Orange images,
are visible in the midst of a "rainbow".
I reach for you…
"We Believe”
As we stretch open arms,
the "clouds" cry no more.
Smiles make themselves visible from the "Heavens".
A pot of gold sparkled,
as laughter echoed the "blue skies"
Our pledge is eternal…we glow in elation
"We Believe”
Chains of passion,
transcend doubt into reality.
With me,
you are protected by the armor of "King Authur".
The round table,
is covered with "pillows".
To harm you is to challenge my love,
to the death I fight.
“We Believe”
To love is to live,
so I pray for many moons.
In my arms you sleep quietly.
I look at your facial structure…"My Nefertiti"
As the sheep slowly battle each eye-blink,
I hope we sink in a Titanic of “Ahava”
"We Believe”
The End
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
"He Sucked the Pearl Tongue Juices" #UpdatedVersion 8/26/2012
"He Sucked the Pearl Tongue Juices"
"He who would search for pearls must dive below."-John Dryden (British Poet-R.I.P)
Act 1:
In an exclusive position,
he attempted to "swallow",
a few of life's gifts…what a "present".
The "Shaking"… was Unbearable
Shivering…Emotions…Shattering
They believed each night was Magical
Invisible crowds saw "unbearable" Madness.
In Agreement,
Each Moan was "Mutual".
Sensual movements caused Rhythms to Collide deep ..."Inside"
They understood a day contains only "24 hours",
so they changed positions.
He stood at "attention".
She creamed with mean ...."intentions"
"He sucked the pearl tongue juices"
She "Smiled" and "Cried" at the same time
Orgasms produced never ending "Waterfalls"
They "chased" them religously.
Deep
Moist
Sticky
Act 2:
Tick-Tock…Tick-Tock…Tick-Tock
"He sucked the pearl tongue juices"
Seconds…My God…So Fast
Minutes…Two souls…Ignite and Clash
Hours…"Ooh this Love is So",
blasted from the stereo.
Lust devoured each breath,
leaving only a little "oxygen" to caress.
Her toes,
Curled and Folded.
Only concentration could "hold" her…
She asked for "forgiveness"…He denied her Plea
Continuing to "fold her" over...
His mouth
Stayed full
Tasted Ecstasy
Jaws,
Stayed numb from "Assertiveness".
The strawberry bush,
"camouflaged" the premature mustache.
A sexual ambush..
Act 3:
The pearl tongue started to "Rain" again
Her "pearl tongue" destroys expensive Umbrellas
Two set of sheets "permanently damaged"
There is no antidote!
Puddles of "elation" sink through each mattress
Tick-Tock…Tick-Tock…Tick-Tock
Around the clock,
"He sucked the pearl tongue juices".
By this time,
another song creeps into sound.
Keith Sweat's "Make It Last Forever",
blasted from the stereo.
Nobody was physically "around"...SO
They made a video
Her "Thighs" filled the Camera
No longer a private show
Lust that was promised to be a secret,
was cursed when his "finger",
hit the "enter" key.
Now her pearl tongue,
can be viewed externally.
The End
"He who would search for pearls must dive below."-John Dryden (British Poet-R.I.P)
Act 1:
In an exclusive position,
he attempted to "swallow",
a few of life's gifts…what a "present".
The "Shaking"… was Unbearable
Shivering…Emotions…Shattering
They believed each night was Magical
Invisible crowds saw "unbearable" Madness.
In Agreement,
Each Moan was "Mutual".
Sensual movements caused Rhythms to Collide deep ..."Inside"
They understood a day contains only "24 hours",
so they changed positions.
He stood at "attention".
She creamed with mean ...."intentions"
"He sucked the pearl tongue juices"
She "Smiled" and "Cried" at the same time
Orgasms produced never ending "Waterfalls"
They "chased" them religously.
Deep
Moist
Sticky
Extreme pleasure,
Introduced guilt to a "Fatigued Comforter"
Introduced guilt to a "Fatigued Comforter"
Drip…Drip…Drip…Drop
Act 2:
Tick-Tock…Tick-Tock…Tick-Tock
"He sucked the pearl tongue juices"
Seconds…My God…So Fast
Minutes…Two souls…Ignite and Clash
Hours…"Ooh this Love is So",
blasted from the stereo.
Lust devoured each breath,
leaving only a little "oxygen" to caress.
Her toes,
Curled and Folded.
Only concentration could "hold" her…
She asked for "forgiveness"…He denied her Plea
Continuing to "fold her" over...
His mouth
Stayed full
Tasted Ecstasy
Jaws,
Stayed numb from "Assertiveness".
The strawberry bush,
"camouflaged" the premature mustache.
A sexual ambush..
Act 3:
The pearl tongue started to "Rain" again
Her "pearl tongue" destroys expensive Umbrellas
Two set of sheets "permanently damaged"
There is no antidote!
Puddles of "elation" sink through each mattress
Tick-Tock…Tick-Tock…Tick-Tock
Around the clock,
"He sucked the pearl tongue juices".
By this time,
another song creeps into sound.
Keith Sweat's "Make It Last Forever",
blasted from the stereo.
Nobody was physically "around"...SO
They made a video
Her "Thighs" filled the Camera
No longer a private show
Lust that was promised to be a secret,
was cursed when his "finger",
hit the "enter" key.
Now her pearl tongue,
can be viewed externally.
The End
Sunday, July 10, 2011
"On These Steps I Sit" #2007
"On These Steps I Sit"
The top step of this brownstone use to be a passage towards peace
A portal to what I thought was infinite happiness …Smiles
No Sadness
Madness invisible
Standing on the sidewalk I waited for inspiration
Affection
Elation
The opposite of a tear
No fears
A hug that is solid and confident
We've both been cheated on
Lied to
Cried in the night
Tonight we erase past days that should never be crossed again
Revisited
Relived
"On These Steps I Sit"
Sipping on my favorite drink
I want to drink a cup of joy again
This use to be our place of solitude
Meditation
Medication
What happened to our love?
Answer the doorbell please
"On These Steps I Sit"
Cold
Hungry
Holding an engagement ring-
that doesn't fit
The End
The top step of this brownstone use to be a passage towards peace
A portal to what I thought was infinite happiness …Smiles
No Sadness
Madness invisible
Standing on the sidewalk I waited for inspiration
Affection
Elation
The opposite of a tear
No fears
A hug that is solid and confident
We've both been cheated on
Lied to
Cried in the night
Tonight we erase past days that should never be crossed again
Revisited
Relived
"On These Steps I Sit"
Sipping on my favorite drink
I want to drink a cup of joy again
This use to be our place of solitude
Meditation
Medication
What happened to our love?
Answer the doorbell please
"On These Steps I Sit"
Cold
Hungry
Holding an engagement ring-
that doesn't fit
The End
Saturday, July 9, 2011
"Love is So...So" Vol. 2
"Love is So...So"
Wendy had sore legs from the constant 9-5 work days along with being psychologically drained from a broken heart...that started...as soon as Jason's feelings began to depart...retreat...submit...and relive in the arms of a "dark angel"...who believed that passion should be kin to dead presidents...Wendy's bank account was in the negative so I guess..."Love is So…So”…tears torment her cheeks...fear allowed her to hide for weeks...cold beers became her sanity and ugliness became her vanity though she was...beautiful outside....inside is the opposite of attraction...her body still feels the pain...she walks the streets at night looking for an image of Jason...an image of love...an image of a time 18 months ago where she remembered how to smile...how to give her lust away without feeling guilty...taking dollar bills for an orgasm led Wendy to believe that..."Love is So…So" or doesn’t really exist at all...the money started to pile up...the stars shine each time she checks in the hotels of tainted passion...it’s the night shift what do you expect...it’s the night shift where there is no direct deposit...just transactions that could lead to HIV, TB or some disease that can end your love...end your joy...end your reasons to believe that...somebody cares...her knight ran away with royalty...Jason sits in his Condo looking down at the city as Wendy strolls down the avenue with "Big Daddy in the Caddy"...leading her to new prospects..."Love is So…So"...new adventures...new scenery...and a new identity that allows her to find love several times per day...the pain from her legs working that 9-5 are over...now only her heart and soul slowly die from a low self esteem...low self worth...and visions of Jason wearing that ring...In 6 months a child will be born with 125 fathers...125 men who will not bother...to even purchase a bottle of milk...
The End
Wendy had sore legs from the constant 9-5 work days along with being psychologically drained from a broken heart...that started...as soon as Jason's feelings began to depart...retreat...submit...and relive in the arms of a "dark angel"...who believed that passion should be kin to dead presidents...Wendy's bank account was in the negative so I guess..."Love is So…So”…tears torment her cheeks...fear allowed her to hide for weeks...cold beers became her sanity and ugliness became her vanity though she was...beautiful outside....inside is the opposite of attraction...her body still feels the pain...she walks the streets at night looking for an image of Jason...an image of love...an image of a time 18 months ago where she remembered how to smile...how to give her lust away without feeling guilty...taking dollar bills for an orgasm led Wendy to believe that..."Love is So…So" or doesn’t really exist at all...the money started to pile up...the stars shine each time she checks in the hotels of tainted passion...it’s the night shift what do you expect...it’s the night shift where there is no direct deposit...just transactions that could lead to HIV, TB or some disease that can end your love...end your joy...end your reasons to believe that...somebody cares...her knight ran away with royalty...Jason sits in his Condo looking down at the city as Wendy strolls down the avenue with "Big Daddy in the Caddy"...leading her to new prospects..."Love is So…So"...new adventures...new scenery...and a new identity that allows her to find love several times per day...the pain from her legs working that 9-5 are over...now only her heart and soul slowly die from a low self esteem...low self worth...and visions of Jason wearing that ring...In 6 months a child will be born with 125 fathers...125 men who will not bother...to even purchase a bottle of milk...
The End
“Myspace Dating” #Vol.2
“Myspace Dating”
Three punches to her head provided Sharon with a one way ticket to the concrete…not a place of solitude…opposite to the candle light dinner where they happened to meet…by mistake…maybe by fate… but who’s praying…they both got stood up from possible online dating…online escaping…online mating but this isn’t natural…some people you meet….are not natural…just a blog of pipe dreams…a blog displaying a representative that will never be… the knight or queen of your dreams…two souls attempting to visit a land created by computer programmers…magicians who swear they have the answers to your needs…Sharon and Tom traded smiles… as the waiter sent a drink to each party…this was the start…this was the initial greeting into foreign lands that should have never been invaded…never been thought of as a place of elation…”Myspace Dating”…a world where everyone is a star…everyone is so special…so creative…so kind…so nice…but what about the real closet where our clothes reside…what about how people really are inside…a lot different than the bulletins that one might possess…and all you see is how they stress this positive persona…time doest’t lie…time was created by the father so his children only need to read the clock…Four months later Sharon found out what Tom did best…not the music that he produced…not the New York Times Best Seller list…rather…a temper that manifested into physical aggression…as verbal lashes weakened her back…she wish she could go back…to that moment…when her… “Myspace Dating” thoughts could have stayed just that…a thought and a laugh…cyber should never be reality and the bruises on her arms proved it…the five weeks of charm and ….who the hell is this on the other end of this phone…proved it…The third punch to her jaw introduced her to that concrete…several loud screams and the door bell ringed…Busting through the door was her husband who was shipped to Iraq six months ago…six hours ago he called but the yells drowned out the phone…he was on his way home…bored seven months ago Sharon joined myspace for a little leisure…now three tombstones read…THIS IS THE RESULT OF ONLINE DATING…a place where people meet…a place where…EVERYBODY KNOWS YOUR NAME…Cheers
The End
Three punches to her head provided Sharon with a one way ticket to the concrete…not a place of solitude…opposite to the candle light dinner where they happened to meet…by mistake…maybe by fate… but who’s praying…they both got stood up from possible online dating…online escaping…online mating but this isn’t natural…some people you meet….are not natural…just a blog of pipe dreams…a blog displaying a representative that will never be… the knight or queen of your dreams…two souls attempting to visit a land created by computer programmers…magicians who swear they have the answers to your needs…Sharon and Tom traded smiles… as the waiter sent a drink to each party…this was the start…this was the initial greeting into foreign lands that should have never been invaded…never been thought of as a place of elation…”Myspace Dating”…a world where everyone is a star…everyone is so special…so creative…so kind…so nice…but what about the real closet where our clothes reside…what about how people really are inside…a lot different than the bulletins that one might possess…and all you see is how they stress this positive persona…time doest’t lie…time was created by the father so his children only need to read the clock…Four months later Sharon found out what Tom did best…not the music that he produced…not the New York Times Best Seller list…rather…a temper that manifested into physical aggression…as verbal lashes weakened her back…she wish she could go back…to that moment…when her… “Myspace Dating” thoughts could have stayed just that…a thought and a laugh…cyber should never be reality and the bruises on her arms proved it…the five weeks of charm and ….who the hell is this on the other end of this phone…proved it…The third punch to her jaw introduced her to that concrete…several loud screams and the door bell ringed…Busting through the door was her husband who was shipped to Iraq six months ago…six hours ago he called but the yells drowned out the phone…he was on his way home…bored seven months ago Sharon joined myspace for a little leisure…now three tombstones read…THIS IS THE RESULT OF ONLINE DATING…a place where people meet…a place where…EVERYBODY KNOWS YOUR NAME…Cheers
The End
"Sex, Orgasm, Friends, Lovers or What" #2007
"Sex, Orgasm, Friends, Lovers or What"
An appealing smell woke me up the same time the alarm clock had a nervous breakdown…the bed…feels broken down…dripping in ecstasy…her scent…still next to me…We met…28 weeks ago…the location...a bar at a business convention…a night that remains a constant revelation of what total gratification truly means…her legs in that red dress…truly mean…"Sex, Orgasm, Friends, Lovers or What"…what does it all mean?…We traded cards and walked away…7 months later I smell eggs and bacon in her kitchen…Walking down the hallway...I could see her curvaceous figure gyrating in front of the stove to my favorite Anita Baker album…We ate…We debated…after constant penetration this union is a lot more complicated…her expectations…elevated…my concentration was on happiness and living for the moment…"Sex, Orgasm, Friends, Lovers or What"…what does it all mean?…From passionate "Four-Play" to aggressive confrontations…A friend of yours saw me at the local Jazz Club with a woman who doesn't match your profile…Though this was only speculation I decided to get my umbrella out…I remember we use to sit on the balcony and watch the beauty of storms…now...constantly... you storm out the room confused at what we have going on…Is our pornographic relationship suppose to be taken from the bedroom to a more serious and secure residence?...What is our dedication suppose to be? "Sex, Orgasm, Friends, Lovers or What"…what does it all mean?…We use to practice scene's from the most graphic films…now we practice ways to confuse each other…mentally abuse each other…another 28 weeks of an undercover affair…this is not fair to your husband or my wife…guess we are secret lovers…secret liars…our significant others…they each work out of town for days at a time…We live a selfish lifestyle…one day at a time…
The End
An appealing smell woke me up the same time the alarm clock had a nervous breakdown…the bed…feels broken down…dripping in ecstasy…her scent…still next to me…We met…28 weeks ago…the location...a bar at a business convention…a night that remains a constant revelation of what total gratification truly means…her legs in that red dress…truly mean…"Sex, Orgasm, Friends, Lovers or What"…what does it all mean?…We traded cards and walked away…7 months later I smell eggs and bacon in her kitchen…Walking down the hallway...I could see her curvaceous figure gyrating in front of the stove to my favorite Anita Baker album…We ate…We debated…after constant penetration this union is a lot more complicated…her expectations…elevated…my concentration was on happiness and living for the moment…"Sex, Orgasm, Friends, Lovers or What"…what does it all mean?…From passionate "Four-Play" to aggressive confrontations…A friend of yours saw me at the local Jazz Club with a woman who doesn't match your profile…Though this was only speculation I decided to get my umbrella out…I remember we use to sit on the balcony and watch the beauty of storms…now...constantly... you storm out the room confused at what we have going on…Is our pornographic relationship suppose to be taken from the bedroom to a more serious and secure residence?...What is our dedication suppose to be? "Sex, Orgasm, Friends, Lovers or What"…what does it all mean?…We use to practice scene's from the most graphic films…now we practice ways to confuse each other…mentally abuse each other…another 28 weeks of an undercover affair…this is not fair to your husband or my wife…guess we are secret lovers…secret liars…our significant others…they each work out of town for days at a time…We live a selfish lifestyle…one day at a time…
The End
"I Grew Up in Pain" Vol. 2
"I Grew Up in Pain"
I grew up in pain
Pain that made it hard to smile
The type
That temporarily makes me insane
When it rains
The pain flows through every vein
A hard ache for even the toughest soul
Nobody knows the hurt in each heartbeat
Even when I'm sleep
My mind creeps to a place far away
Close to comfort
Distant from the storms in my bloodstream
It seems that I'm one of the chosen few
To live a lifetime of popping pills
At times too ill to smile
Each week I dial 911
Thinking that the day has come
That I walk with the shadow of death
A dark tunnel with a glow at the end
My end is someone else beginning
Trying not to be selfish
I thank my mother for giving birth
The thirst I have for happiness
Is gigantic
Still sitting with the same pain day after day
I lay across the bed with my eyes closed
Feeling that only God knows
His son was nailed to a cross
I'm nailed to a mentality that I will never get well
Oh Well
Guess there is a Heaven and Hell on Earth
Death started at my birth
For what it’s worth
I attempt to smile
The End
I grew up in pain
Pain that made it hard to smile
The type
That temporarily makes me insane
When it rains
The pain flows through every vein
A hard ache for even the toughest soul
Nobody knows the hurt in each heartbeat
Even when I'm sleep
My mind creeps to a place far away
Close to comfort
Distant from the storms in my bloodstream
It seems that I'm one of the chosen few
To live a lifetime of popping pills
At times too ill to smile
Each week I dial 911
Thinking that the day has come
That I walk with the shadow of death
A dark tunnel with a glow at the end
My end is someone else beginning
Trying not to be selfish
I thank my mother for giving birth
The thirst I have for happiness
Is gigantic
Still sitting with the same pain day after day
I lay across the bed with my eyes closed
Feeling that only God knows
His son was nailed to a cross
I'm nailed to a mentality that I will never get well
Oh Well
Guess there is a Heaven and Hell on Earth
Death started at my birth
For what it’s worth
I attempt to smile
The End
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
“An Early Death before Life” Dedication to Biggie Smalls Vol. 3 Draft
“An Early Death before Life” Dedication to Biggie Smalls
“Remember back in the days, when niggaz had waves
Gazelle shades, and corn braids
Pitchin pennies, honies had the high top jellies
Shootin skelly, motherfuckers was all friendly” Biggie’s “Things Done Changed” track
The early bird catches the worm but it was far too early for Christopher Wallace aka Biggie Smalls aka The Notorious B.I.G. aka Frank White aka Big Poppa aka Brooklyn’s Finest to find a home far away from his loved ones, influence and hip hop. I pop "Ready to Die" in the cassette deck to reminisce on a time before CD’s somewhere circa 1993, when “Juicy” played on the radio station and I purchased my first playstation. The nation was still suffering the aftermath of the Gulf War but who knew that Rap Music would see its very own Dessert Storm. Several fatalities came in the fashion and form of young black MC’s, who microphones were mistaken for automatic weapons. Bedford Stuyvesant streets will never be the same and like you said my brother, “Things Done Changed” and the “Everyday Struggle” was a “Warning” to us all. I guess some enemy of the state wanted to see your “Downfall” and figured that “Somebody’s Got to Die” and it was you. “The World is Filled” with “Playa Haters” but regardless of all of that, we “Miss You”. Puff said “Mo Money Mo Problems” and the media always make sure “Your Nobody Till Somebody Kills You” but what’s sad is “Sky’s The Limit” for an individual with a vicious flow, ill lyrics, powerful voice and crazy word-play. As a hip hop purest, I rarely see these skills today. “What’s Beef” when we just enjoy listening to good music? With each single you would “Hypnotize” us and of course you weren’t “Ready To Die” so why do people want to see “Nigga’s Bleed” and who knew that “Going Back to Cali” would be your “Last Day”. We miss you Biggie! I sit here with a 40 oz like my college years almost shedding a tear as “One More Chance” blast from my speaker to my soul. I remember the first time I heard “Unbelievable”, “Machine Gun Funk” and “Who Shot Ya”. Now, I wish the police and FBI found out...Who Shot Ya...
The End
“Remember back in the days, when niggaz had waves
Gazelle shades, and corn braids
Pitchin pennies, honies had the high top jellies
Shootin skelly, motherfuckers was all friendly” Biggie’s “Things Done Changed” track
The early bird catches the worm but it was far too early for Christopher Wallace aka Biggie Smalls aka The Notorious B.I.G. aka Frank White aka Big Poppa aka Brooklyn’s Finest to find a home far away from his loved ones, influence and hip hop. I pop "Ready to Die" in the cassette deck to reminisce on a time before CD’s somewhere circa 1993, when “Juicy” played on the radio station and I purchased my first playstation. The nation was still suffering the aftermath of the Gulf War but who knew that Rap Music would see its very own Dessert Storm. Several fatalities came in the fashion and form of young black MC’s, who microphones were mistaken for automatic weapons. Bedford Stuyvesant streets will never be the same and like you said my brother, “Things Done Changed” and the “Everyday Struggle” was a “Warning” to us all. I guess some enemy of the state wanted to see your “Downfall” and figured that “Somebody’s Got to Die” and it was you. “The World is Filled” with “Playa Haters” but regardless of all of that, we “Miss You”. Puff said “Mo Money Mo Problems” and the media always make sure “Your Nobody Till Somebody Kills You” but what’s sad is “Sky’s The Limit” for an individual with a vicious flow, ill lyrics, powerful voice and crazy word-play. As a hip hop purest, I rarely see these skills today. “What’s Beef” when we just enjoy listening to good music? With each single you would “Hypnotize” us and of course you weren’t “Ready To Die” so why do people want to see “Nigga’s Bleed” and who knew that “Going Back to Cali” would be your “Last Day”. We miss you Biggie! I sit here with a 40 oz like my college years almost shedding a tear as “One More Chance” blast from my speaker to my soul. I remember the first time I heard “Unbelievable”, “Machine Gun Funk” and “Who Shot Ya”. Now, I wish the police and FBI found out...Who Shot Ya...
The End
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
“Aroma” Vol. 1 #2006 p. 1 Short Poem
“Aroma”
By: Tony Hanes
I gathered each scent of perfume,
you left floating in the hallway.
Gently placed the fragrance,
all over my favorite pillow.
I inhaled a part of you each night,
in order to remember,
the fundamental purpose of life.
The End
“24 Hour Seat” Vol. 1 #2006
“24 Hour Seat” (page from Vol. 1 circa 2006)
By: Tony Hanes
Waiting for a Brighter Day
I pray
To the God of life to grant me
Peace and Grace
I paced through the walkways of life
Attempting to see that gleam of light
That allows warmer evenings and nights
Sun rays of laughter and joy
Please
Allow my family an abundance of years
With less tears
No cries
So when it's time to say good-bye
My head can nod with content
Waiting for a Brighter Day
The End
By: Tony Hanes
Waiting for a Brighter Day
I pray
To the God of life to grant me
Peace and Grace
I paced through the walkways of life
Attempting to see that gleam of light
That allows warmer evenings and nights
Sun rays of laughter and joy
Please
Allow my family an abundance of years
With less tears
No cries
So when it's time to say good-bye
My head can nod with content
Waiting for a Brighter Day
The End
JAY-Z: “A Choice ...A Mistake” #2007 Vol. 2
(I used Jay-Z songs to make a story about a young man that is in every ghetto in America.)
JAY-Z: “A Choice ...A Mistake”
Raised in the concrete jungle I often wondered how "D'Evils" would shape the "Blueprint" to my existence. Dark alley's were not my highway to heaven and "Where I'm From" you are either "Friend or Foe" with nothing in between...I saw the 70's so-called father figures "Big Pimpin" but not sharing any knowledge with the youth...I "Can't Knock the Hustle" even though there were "A Million and One Question" that needed answers...Why am I a nigger?...Why do we live in these broken down buildings? I’m getting frustrated…It’s funny having these "Cashmere Thoughts" looking back 20 years ago…I was hard headed for sure...I remember being a defiant 17 year old and my attitude was like "Aint No Nigga" living this "Hard knock Life" the way I do…And even though "The Streets Is Watching" I stayed with my "22 Two's"...Without that father figure I continued to "Squeeze First" and ask questions later. On the road to "Dead Presidents" all I did at night was "Change Clothes and Go" back to the block with my glock and an ice grill…With no remorse I did whatever it took to be "Brooklyn's Finest"...”What More Can I Say"...it was time to "Takeover" these streets by all means necessary. These images are not a reality at the present time...Where was that father figure? As I sit here in this cell....my notepads are filled with poems and rap songs that will never be heard by the masses. There is only one way that the "Dirt of My Shoulder" can be wiped off and that’s when I'm tossed in the ground...still with no father...My life wasn't worth that murder case… now my destiny lies in the hands of the governor...THAT PHONE CALL MIGHT NOT COME...I have 15 minutes left with so many "Regrets"...
The End
JAY-Z: “A Choice ...A Mistake”
Raised in the concrete jungle I often wondered how "D'Evils" would shape the "Blueprint" to my existence. Dark alley's were not my highway to heaven and "Where I'm From" you are either "Friend or Foe" with nothing in between...I saw the 70's so-called father figures "Big Pimpin" but not sharing any knowledge with the youth...I "Can't Knock the Hustle" even though there were "A Million and One Question" that needed answers...Why am I a nigger?...Why do we live in these broken down buildings? I’m getting frustrated…It’s funny having these "Cashmere Thoughts" looking back 20 years ago…I was hard headed for sure...I remember being a defiant 17 year old and my attitude was like "Aint No Nigga" living this "Hard knock Life" the way I do…And even though "The Streets Is Watching" I stayed with my "22 Two's"...Without that father figure I continued to "Squeeze First" and ask questions later. On the road to "Dead Presidents" all I did at night was "Change Clothes and Go" back to the block with my glock and an ice grill…With no remorse I did whatever it took to be "Brooklyn's Finest"...”What More Can I Say"...it was time to "Takeover" these streets by all means necessary. These images are not a reality at the present time...Where was that father figure? As I sit here in this cell....my notepads are filled with poems and rap songs that will never be heard by the masses. There is only one way that the "Dirt of My Shoulder" can be wiped off and that’s when I'm tossed in the ground...still with no father...My life wasn't worth that murder case… now my destiny lies in the hands of the governor...THAT PHONE CALL MIGHT NOT COME...I have 15 minutes left with so many "Regrets"...
The End
“Your Face is a Mystery” Vol. 1 Poem Dedicated to my Mom #2006
“Your Face is a Mystery” (Last page in An Abstract World Vol. 1 #2006)
By: Anthony Hanes
I tossed and turned in your womb
The world was a mystery
Life was a maze that I didn't know existed
A few more weeks and my travel would begin
When and where it ends,
I have not a clue.
One thing I do know to be true...
"You loved me"
I don't remember "tasting any toxins",
from bad habits through bad advice,
or just living "long" days and "short" nights.
I do remember how gentle your rubs,
pushed against the walls that protected my life..
Why did you leave so soon?
Once the bright lights hit my weak eyes,
"You Died" a year later and I could barely "SEE"
(This was dedicated to my mother and is a true story...R.I.P.)
The End
By: Anthony Hanes
I tossed and turned in your womb
The world was a mystery
Life was a maze that I didn't know existed
A few more weeks and my travel would begin
When and where it ends,
I have not a clue.
One thing I do know to be true...
"You loved me"
I don't remember "tasting any toxins",
from bad habits through bad advice,
or just living "long" days and "short" nights.
I do remember how gentle your rubs,
pushed against the walls that protected my life..
Why did you leave so soon?
Once the bright lights hit my weak eyes,
"You Died" a year later and I could barely "SEE"
(This was dedicated to my mother and is a true story...R.I.P.)
The End
“My Screams Have No Sound” #Revised 7/30/2012
“My Screams Have No Sound” ...#Revised
“A nightmare is a dream which causes a strong unpleasant emotional response from the sleeper, typically fear or horror, being in situations of extreme danger, or the sensations of pain, bad events, falling, drowning or death. Such dreams can be related to physical causes such as a high fever, turned faced down on a pillow during sleep (most often in the case of drowning nightmares), or psychological ones such as psychological trauma or stress in the sleeper's life, or can have no apparent cause.” *wikipedia
Trapped in a never ending whirlpool of ideas,
I sat at the dinner table,
"dizzy".
Trying to imagine a time ,
when I wasn’t captivated in a maze,
with no "ending" or "exit" strategy.
I designed a "Utopia",
that was crashed, trashed, and bashed,
by the "Queen of Sorrow".
The frozen look on your face,
showed me that tomorrow was today.
Verbal darts,
destroyed my armor of love, hope, and desire.
I desired for more...
“My Screams Have No Sound”
"CNN" has gotten old
"Fox News" doesn't tell the truth,
so I guess our "ESPN",
has been heard by neighbors and friends,
way pass the "4th Quarter".
You lied…I told the truth,
I guess a thousand words meant nothing!
“My Screams Have No Sound”
Silent nights in a cold bed,
reminded me of childhood fantasies.
I use to run from Freddy Krueger and Jason Voorhees.
These knives were blades of deceit,
that literally,
destroy the main organ,
that allows one to breathe.
“My Screams Have No Sound”
The "respirator of passion" died on the doorsteps,
of a man I didn’t know.
You said it was the last time,
a year AGO!
"25 to life" is too much prison time to fathom,
therefore; I walk away.
“My Screams Have No Sound”
As the door slams,
on the back of my new Timberland boots,
the "ring" designed to bind two souls,
rest on the kitchen table beside the "GUN".
The End
“A nightmare is a dream which causes a strong unpleasant emotional response from the sleeper, typically fear or horror, being in situations of extreme danger, or the sensations of pain, bad events, falling, drowning or death. Such dreams can be related to physical causes such as a high fever, turned faced down on a pillow during sleep (most often in the case of drowning nightmares), or psychological ones such as psychological trauma or stress in the sleeper's life, or can have no apparent cause.” *wikipedia
Trapped in a never ending whirlpool of ideas,
I sat at the dinner table,
"dizzy".
Trying to imagine a time ,
when I wasn’t captivated in a maze,
with no "ending" or "exit" strategy.
I designed a "Utopia",
that was crashed, trashed, and bashed,
by the "Queen of Sorrow".
The frozen look on your face,
showed me that tomorrow was today.
Verbal darts,
destroyed my armor of love, hope, and desire.
I desired for more...
“My Screams Have No Sound”
"CNN" has gotten old
"Fox News" doesn't tell the truth,
so I guess our "ESPN",
has been heard by neighbors and friends,
way pass the "4th Quarter".
You lied…I told the truth,
I guess a thousand words meant nothing!
“My Screams Have No Sound”
Silent nights in a cold bed,
reminded me of childhood fantasies.
I use to run from Freddy Krueger and Jason Voorhees.
These knives were blades of deceit,
that literally,
destroy the main organ,
that allows one to breathe.
“My Screams Have No Sound”
The "respirator of passion" died on the doorsteps,
of a man I didn’t know.
You said it was the last time,
a year AGO!
"25 to life" is too much prison time to fathom,
therefore; I walk away.
“My Screams Have No Sound”
As the door slams,
on the back of my new Timberland boots,
the "ring" designed to bind two souls,
rest on the kitchen table beside the "GUN".
The End
Monday, May 23, 2011
“A Girl Named Nicky Was So Scandalous” (Prince Dedication)
“A Girl Named Nicky Was So Scandalous” Vol. 3 Draft
(Dedication to the Music of the Great Prince)
“In the 18th century, presumably in Venice, prostitutes started using condoms, made with catgut or cow bowel.During the British East India Company's rule in India in the late 18th and early 19th centuries, it was initially fairly common for British soldiers to engaged in inter-ethnic prostitution in India, there they would frequently visit local Indian nautch dancers. Likewise, Indian lascar seamen taken to Britain also engaged in prostitution in the United Kingdom, where they would frequently visit local British prostitutes.[42][43] As British females began arriving to British India in large numbers from the early to mid-19th century, it became increasingly uncommon for British soldiers to visit Indian prostitutes, and miscegenation was despised altogether after the events of the Indian Rebellion of 1857.” *wikipedia
In her "Little Red Corvette" she strokes the Miami streets waiting for her orgasm of dreams to thrust from the sensual pavement. Already wet, Nicky walked with a juicy sway reminding eyes that lust her that she is a "Star". With "Scandalous" hips and a mind that can only see "Diamonds & Pearls", she understood that every man "Wanted To Be Her Lover". This is how "The Beautiful Ones" act. I guess this is the "Sign “O” The Times" and when the bars open, there is always a party like its "1999". Her high heels display pure vanity and her ass is just "Delirious". Uptown they call her "Cream" because of the way ice melts on her "Raspberry beret". On stage, Nicky is a hot thing. On the pole she swings with hopes of living the "Pop Life". As the "Purple Rain" fell from the clouds , "Darling Nikki" knows too well how it feels "When Doves Cry" almost making her crazy, but she would almost die for the price of fame. Thieves in the Temple love to see her dance because she has a look to die for. A college dropout and a scholarship for school depleted, Nikki’s dirty mind enjoyed the controversy on the outside. Inside, she understands that her parents tried to provide a better way. A lot of men desire to kiss her "Peach" nightly because she is indeed a "Sexy M.F." without a doubt. She has so many doubts. Nikki swallowed ecstasy pills to feel free, kept needles and weed to encourage her beliefs. Three years after her 18th birthday, they found her car vacated on South Beach. Local Police failed to retrieve anything significant. The detective said that the case was closed as no leads manifested. Ours later, her parents headed back to the airport with a portrait that displayed a frown...No "Emancipation"... No sound.
The End
(Dedication to the Music of the Great Prince)
“In the 18th century, presumably in Venice, prostitutes started using condoms, made with catgut or cow bowel.During the British East India Company's rule in India in the late 18th and early 19th centuries, it was initially fairly common for British soldiers to engaged in inter-ethnic prostitution in India, there they would frequently visit local Indian nautch dancers. Likewise, Indian lascar seamen taken to Britain also engaged in prostitution in the United Kingdom, where they would frequently visit local British prostitutes.[42][43] As British females began arriving to British India in large numbers from the early to mid-19th century, it became increasingly uncommon for British soldiers to visit Indian prostitutes, and miscegenation was despised altogether after the events of the Indian Rebellion of 1857.” *wikipedia
In her "Little Red Corvette" she strokes the Miami streets waiting for her orgasm of dreams to thrust from the sensual pavement. Already wet, Nicky walked with a juicy sway reminding eyes that lust her that she is a "Star". With "Scandalous" hips and a mind that can only see "Diamonds & Pearls", she understood that every man "Wanted To Be Her Lover". This is how "The Beautiful Ones" act. I guess this is the "Sign “O” The Times" and when the bars open, there is always a party like its "1999". Her high heels display pure vanity and her ass is just "Delirious". Uptown they call her "Cream" because of the way ice melts on her "Raspberry beret". On stage, Nicky is a hot thing. On the pole she swings with hopes of living the "Pop Life". As the "Purple Rain" fell from the clouds , "Darling Nikki" knows too well how it feels "When Doves Cry" almost making her crazy, but she would almost die for the price of fame. Thieves in the Temple love to see her dance because she has a look to die for. A college dropout and a scholarship for school depleted, Nikki’s dirty mind enjoyed the controversy on the outside. Inside, she understands that her parents tried to provide a better way. A lot of men desire to kiss her "Peach" nightly because she is indeed a "Sexy M.F." without a doubt. She has so many doubts. Nikki swallowed ecstasy pills to feel free, kept needles and weed to encourage her beliefs. Three years after her 18th birthday, they found her car vacated on South Beach. Local Police failed to retrieve anything significant. The detective said that the case was closed as no leads manifested. Ours later, her parents headed back to the airport with a portrait that displayed a frown...No "Emancipation"... No sound.
The End
“God-Realization…In My Eyes” Vol. 4 Rough Draft
“God-Realization…In My Eyes” (Vol. 4 Rough Draft)
“God-realization, according to Indian guru Meher Baba, is the highest state of consciousness and the goal and ultimate destiny of all souls in creation. Ultimately the ego weakens through endless expression of itself in many lifetimes of experience, finally disappearing completely in full Self or God-realization.” *wikipedia
On the rock it stated
“Here resides the bed of a tired soul”
No more battles with Mother Nature
The wind blew
All walked away
Until everyone is at "Rest"
Before rest,
there is struggle.
On the "journey" to visit the most high,
we look back in disbelief.
Family members "wave"
Tears slowly fall,
and melt into "yesterday".
The "grave" of midnight dreams "strike",
today.
Now,
he is one with the most high.
I sigh,
Knowing one day it will be my turn.
I laugh,
because we use to laugh together,
now forever,
is really "forever".
Carved on another lonely rock,
were the words...
“In My Eyes God is Real”
I slowly got into the car,
humbled with a depleted ego.
Until we meet again,
I will visit you my friend,
on these quiet grouds,
bonding us "Eternally",
bonding us until "God Wins".
The End
“God-realization, according to Indian guru Meher Baba, is the highest state of consciousness and the goal and ultimate destiny of all souls in creation. Ultimately the ego weakens through endless expression of itself in many lifetimes of experience, finally disappearing completely in full Self or God-realization.” *wikipedia
On the rock it stated
“Here resides the bed of a tired soul”
No more battles with Mother Nature
The wind blew
All walked away
Until everyone is at "Rest"
Before rest,
there is struggle.
On the "journey" to visit the most high,
we look back in disbelief.
Family members "wave"
Tears slowly fall,
and melt into "yesterday".
The "grave" of midnight dreams "strike",
today.
Now,
he is one with the most high.
I sigh,
Knowing one day it will be my turn.
I laugh,
because we use to laugh together,
now forever,
is really "forever".
Carved on another lonely rock,
were the words...
“In My Eyes God is Real”
I slowly got into the car,
humbled with a depleted ego.
Until we meet again,
I will visit you my friend,
on these quiet grouds,
bonding us "Eternally",
bonding us until "God Wins".
The End
Sunday, May 22, 2011
"In Hell I Sit" (Poem/Short Story)
"In Hell I Sit" (circa 2007)
The photograph fell to the concrete as the colossal truck thrust his wheels over my reality…over my head there is a dark cloud and the thunder destroys part of my hearing...destruction is what my soul fight against as I walk down an alley where there is no end in sight…no end to this pain and rain is on the way…with no umbrella I contemplate a great storm….no storm is foreign…the hurt is second nature so…I hibernate in the thoughts of past smiles…I'm tired…so…I rest…"In Hell I Sit"...waiting...waiting...waiting …for the Pursuit of Happiness to defeat a tortured life where… War is constant and my ammunition is running low…the picture floats down the sewage of loneliness …five people smile in this photo but only one live today to wait for the Green Mile…the Upper Room…the stairway to Heaven…or maybe…I'm just waiting…"In Hell I Sit"…the last survivor from a tree with dead roots…the last survivor in the circle of love that was dissolved by our leader…a psychological breakdown was the assessment by the medical physician….last week…7 days…2 hours…30 minutes and 49 seconds ago…he loaded the rifle….loaded death into the dark angels weapon…walked room to room…slaying love…cutting down the trees and killing the roots of the near future…closed caskets…closed caskets…the doctor revived me in time…in time to see 4 dead corpse…in time to avoid that dark tunnel that was approaching my sight…in time to see my mother, brother, and sister have a white towel pulled over their bodies…I am nobody …My somebody has deserted me…"In Hell I Sit"…wet from the overweight clouds…thinking about how the coward took his own life…took the life of his wife…now his seeds are in the ground but lack the oxygen to grow…nieces and nephews I will never know…and thanksgiving dinners that have been executed from existence…"In Hell I Sit"…with not even one glass of water…"In Hell I Sit"….looking in the mirror but seeing a blank image…waiting for the end…waiting for …a Revelation..
The photograph fell to the concrete as the colossal truck thrust his wheels over my reality…over my head there is a dark cloud and the thunder destroys part of my hearing...destruction is what my soul fight against as I walk down an alley where there is no end in sight…no end to this pain and rain is on the way…with no umbrella I contemplate a great storm….no storm is foreign…the hurt is second nature so…I hibernate in the thoughts of past smiles…I'm tired…so…I rest…"In Hell I Sit"...waiting...waiting...waiting …for the Pursuit of Happiness to defeat a tortured life where… War is constant and my ammunition is running low…the picture floats down the sewage of loneliness …five people smile in this photo but only one live today to wait for the Green Mile…the Upper Room…the stairway to Heaven…or maybe…I'm just waiting…"In Hell I Sit"…the last survivor from a tree with dead roots…the last survivor in the circle of love that was dissolved by our leader…a psychological breakdown was the assessment by the medical physician….last week…7 days…2 hours…30 minutes and 49 seconds ago…he loaded the rifle….loaded death into the dark angels weapon…walked room to room…slaying love…cutting down the trees and killing the roots of the near future…closed caskets…closed caskets…the doctor revived me in time…in time to see 4 dead corpse…in time to avoid that dark tunnel that was approaching my sight…in time to see my mother, brother, and sister have a white towel pulled over their bodies…I am nobody …My somebody has deserted me…"In Hell I Sit"…wet from the overweight clouds…thinking about how the coward took his own life…took the life of his wife…now his seeds are in the ground but lack the oxygen to grow…nieces and nephews I will never know…and thanksgiving dinners that have been executed from existence…"In Hell I Sit"…with not even one glass of water…"In Hell I Sit"….looking in the mirror but seeing a blank image…waiting for the end…waiting for …a Revelation..
“Vagina" #circa2007
“Vagina" ...page from Vol. 2 Emotions #circa2007
One billion years ago you birthed the 3rd planet from the Sun therefore; I am your son, your descendent, your child so lend me some direction. I took a journey that lasted 9 months in your canal and now I continue to travel through this wilderness until my travels are over…Mother of Creation...Mother of Pleasure...Mother to one of the most important living organism I need…The Great…The Lovely…The Treasure...”Vagina”…you are the Goddess that the Greeks praised and sculptured…”Vagina”… the glorious muscular tube projecting inside of all females…I love you…Why would anyone dare to challenge your authority…I kneel to you my Queen as soldiers dropped to the feet of Nefertiti a million months ago…You are responsible for the birth of God’s...the birth of Kings...the birth of all living things...we all traveled through your disambiguation where the outcome was uncertain and some failed to complete the trip and...rest in the eternity that will never be…I made it….I did swim...yep...through a waterfall and fell into a universe that appeared so complicated…”Vagina” ...you are so complicated….why do you pack so much Love and Hate?...”Vagina”…why have you caused so many Wars to take place on the soils of many Nations?...”Vagina” …you poisoned the minds of great leaders and transformed them into dictators…I adore you …I’m jealous of you…and…I’m upset with you all at the same time…At one point you confused my emotions and what I thought was love...was lust...”Vagina”…you are so rude…you are so selfish…and though I hold you in such high esteem because of your vision….the way you smell….the way you taste….the way you move…I like the way you move….the way you have put me to sleep on countless nights….I wish….I wish…you would stop confusing the bodies and minds that you own…stop killing yourself….you are the Godmother of life…Please…Please…share yourself only with Gladiators….not peasants….no confused men should feel the wetness of your grace…Dear “Vagina” we need you to step up and take place on the “Thrown of Life” again…Mother of Creation….Mother of Pleasure…Mother of the most High….I hope that I see you tonight…I have so many things to say….I have so many things to say…Hear my pain…
One billion years ago you birthed the 3rd planet from the Sun therefore; I am your son, your descendent, your child so lend me some direction. I took a journey that lasted 9 months in your canal and now I continue to travel through this wilderness until my travels are over…Mother of Creation...Mother of Pleasure...Mother to one of the most important living organism I need…The Great…The Lovely…The Treasure...”Vagina”…you are the Goddess that the Greeks praised and sculptured…”Vagina”… the glorious muscular tube projecting inside of all females…I love you…Why would anyone dare to challenge your authority…I kneel to you my Queen as soldiers dropped to the feet of Nefertiti a million months ago…You are responsible for the birth of God’s...the birth of Kings...the birth of all living things...we all traveled through your disambiguation where the outcome was uncertain and some failed to complete the trip and...rest in the eternity that will never be…I made it….I did swim...yep...through a waterfall and fell into a universe that appeared so complicated…”Vagina” ...you are so complicated….why do you pack so much Love and Hate?...”Vagina”…why have you caused so many Wars to take place on the soils of many Nations?...”Vagina” …you poisoned the minds of great leaders and transformed them into dictators…I adore you …I’m jealous of you…and…I’m upset with you all at the same time…At one point you confused my emotions and what I thought was love...was lust...”Vagina”…you are so rude…you are so selfish…and though I hold you in such high esteem because of your vision….the way you smell….the way you taste….the way you move…I like the way you move….the way you have put me to sleep on countless nights….I wish….I wish…you would stop confusing the bodies and minds that you own…stop killing yourself….you are the Godmother of life…Please…Please…share yourself only with Gladiators….not peasants….no confused men should feel the wetness of your grace…Dear “Vagina” we need you to step up and take place on the “Thrown of Life” again…Mother of Creation….Mother of Pleasure…Mother of the most High….I hope that I see you tonight…I have so many things to say….I have so many things to say…Hear my pain…
"The Greatest Poem Ever Told" #Revised
The wind blows from the Heavens as I sit here reading the literature passed down from the "Dead Poets Society" with a fine glass of Ancient Grapes...I laugh as Dante vividly describes the "Inferno"...Yeah...Love can burn the shit out of you...But...A life in sin can also provide everlasting heat...At least...That’s what vacation bible school taught me… Though I often cheated in class...This made "Psalm 23" by the Psalmist hard to believe because I smoked on so many trees...Oh the elevation… But I digress...On this night Homer took me to "The Iliad" after Shakespeare had me amazed by "Sonnet 18"...My eyes stay tired but Langston asked me...What happens to a dream deferred?...A cool breeze smacked my reality and there was no answer to this question ...I’m only a mere mortal guys....I’m only a mere mortal you guys ....So allow me the opportunity to share your stanzas with today’s poets...Who know "NO" history...Your writings are my history...Can I join you Edgar as my fingers turn from "The Raven" to "Amazing Grace" by this guy named John Newton who was also a member…Of the society that I would love to reside in forever…Remember me guys...Remember me as I remember "Still I Rise" by Maya Angelo or "Fog" by Carl Sandburg.. Man...The fog outside make it hard for me to read "Requiem"…But...I push my eyes deeper into the page...Deeper into immortality...Deeper into..."When I Consider How My Light Is Spent" by John Milton...I sip the fresh grapes again and feel a slight buzz...Oh hell...I'm almost drunk but sober enough to know that "Jordan" by George Herbert is a work of genius...I'm a genius because I'm not afraid to daydream...I relax and think about how Paul Lawrence Dunbar, Gwendolyn Brooks, Robert Hayden and Phyllis Wheatley would have viewed my Abstract World...Would they induct me?..Can I be a part of "A Great Day In Harlem?....Would Henry Wadsworth Longfellow or Robert Frost allow me in their Fraternity?...I want to belong...I want to be a Poet...I want to be a name that lives on through words that capture the souls of all readers...Just as the Dead Poets...They continue to bless my spirit...They continue to influence my pen and pad...I heard voices say "preach creativity"...I got up and walked into the lobby…Ran into Nikki Giovanni…She told me to never stop writing...Never stop the path to my destiny and a forgotten poet...You will never be...A forgotten poet...You will never be...
The End
"Dark but Alive" #Draft
"Dark but Alive"
"Metamorphosis is a biological process by which an animal physically develops after birth or hatching, involving a conspicuous and relatively abrupt change in the animal's form or structure through cell growth and differentiation. Some insects, amphibians, molluscs, crustaceans, Cnidarians, echinoderms and tunicates undergo metamorphosis, which is usually (but not always) accompanied by a change of habitat or behavior. *wikipedia
By the sea,
beneath the yellow and sagging moon,
I kissed life for the first time.
She felt great and her vitamins,
replenished my soul.
The stars spoke to me,
and encouraged faithfulness.
Good advice,
To one who has cheated reality,
on several occasions.
Feeling a cool breeze,
the night shared poetry through sound.
Water poured ancient stanza's from his soul.
I even heard a sand crab,
still awake past bedtime.
She shared a little Shakespeare-
"Dark but Alive"
I am one with the night
The son of the creator
A man that respects the Sun but,
Lied to the Universe.
Now,
My Astronomy is more like Psychology.
-Confusion-
"Dark but alive"
I can't see anything,
but hear logic through Mother Nature.
I kissed life again
Knowing I'm tainted,
and at times ungrateful.
I fell to my knees and meditated,
in hope that my eyes,
would open to the sunrise of paradise.
As we sit here,
By the sea,
beneath the yellow and sagging moon,
I became one with my spirit.
The End
"Metamorphosis is a biological process by which an animal physically develops after birth or hatching, involving a conspicuous and relatively abrupt change in the animal's form or structure through cell growth and differentiation. Some insects, amphibians, molluscs, crustaceans, Cnidarians, echinoderms and tunicates undergo metamorphosis, which is usually (but not always) accompanied by a change of habitat or behavior. *wikipedia
By the sea,
beneath the yellow and sagging moon,
I kissed life for the first time.
She felt great and her vitamins,
replenished my soul.
The stars spoke to me,
and encouraged faithfulness.
Good advice,
To one who has cheated reality,
on several occasions.
Feeling a cool breeze,
the night shared poetry through sound.
Water poured ancient stanza's from his soul.
I even heard a sand crab,
still awake past bedtime.
She shared a little Shakespeare-
"Dark but Alive"
I am one with the night
The son of the creator
A man that respects the Sun but,
Lied to the Universe.
Now,
My Astronomy is more like Psychology.
-Confusion-
"Dark but alive"
I can't see anything,
but hear logic through Mother Nature.
I kissed life again
Knowing I'm tainted,
and at times ungrateful.
I fell to my knees and meditated,
in hope that my eyes,
would open to the sunrise of paradise.
As we sit here,
By the sea,
beneath the yellow and sagging moon,
I became one with my spirit.
The End
“Utopia” by Tony Hanes
“Utopia”
“Euphoria is medically recognized as an emotional and mental state defined as a sense of great (usually exaggerated) elation and wellbeing. Technically, euphoria is an affect, [1] but the term is often colloquially used to define emotion as an intense, transcendent happiness combined with an overwhelming sense of wellbeing. The word derives from Greek εὐφορία, "power of enduring easily, fertility" *wikipedia
I woke up
Looked at the other side of my bed
It was you
I fell back into a deep sleep
"Smiling"
The "Sun" and "Ocean" collided
Out the window,
"Birds" assessed the beach for scraps.
An image called hope,
appeared through the clouds.
I sat up escaping sweet dreams,
continuing to “Smile”.
Tired,
I laid back down.
As the alarm clock,
had a discussion with the future,
I sat up again.
Breakfast,
cracked the crevices of my nostrils,
I "Win".
I knew you were the one,
we both started to"Grin".
I remember when I found you,
a love affair with no "End".
Still “Smiling",
I laid back enjoying the Aroma,
with no reason to "Frown",
whenever you're around.
This is how "Completness" sounds.
Love like this ran past “Euphoria”
Speeding
Unreal
Unbelievable
Heaven within each heartbeat,
"Inconceivable"
The End
“Euphoria is medically recognized as an emotional and mental state defined as a sense of great (usually exaggerated) elation and wellbeing. Technically, euphoria is an affect, [1] but the term is often colloquially used to define emotion as an intense, transcendent happiness combined with an overwhelming sense of wellbeing. The word derives from Greek εὐφορία, "power of enduring easily, fertility" *wikipedia
I woke up
Looked at the other side of my bed
It was you
I fell back into a deep sleep
"Smiling"
The "Sun" and "Ocean" collided
Out the window,
"Birds" assessed the beach for scraps.
An image called hope,
appeared through the clouds.
I sat up escaping sweet dreams,
continuing to “Smile”.
Tired,
I laid back down.
As the alarm clock,
had a discussion with the future,
I sat up again.
Breakfast,
cracked the crevices of my nostrils,
I "Win".
I knew you were the one,
we both started to"Grin".
I remember when I found you,
a love affair with no "End".
Still “Smiling",
I laid back enjoying the Aroma,
with no reason to "Frown",
whenever you're around.
This is how "Completness" sounds.
Love like this ran past “Euphoria”
Speeding
Unreal
Unbelievable
Heaven within each heartbeat,
"Inconceivable"
The End
"Love is a Battlefield" by Tony Hanes
"Love is a Battlefield" by Tony Hanes
(Pat Benatar Dedication)
As the loud yells shot through each ear,
I wondered would I run out of ammunition.
Discombobulated,
The opposite of elation.
Gravitation now the figment of the imagination.
Each side is so resistant.
At one point we were so persistent.
Now we stand opposite of kinship.
The soldiers approached with vengeance.
I sat on the porch reminiscing on a period,
Where the cracks in my heart were not yet visible;
Physical.
In Pain, my flag waves for forgiveness on this hill.
Still, I feel both sergeants didn't fulfill all duties.
Today, I view myself as an individual.
Analytically, I gathered pieces of the past,
and attempted to decipher when war began.
"Love is a Battlefield"
The field of dreams appears sad behind gray clouds,
And the thunderstorms of lies and deceit defeat;
Reconciliation.
Our troops stand at attention.
We use to pay each other attention.
Did I mention?
Countless passion throughout the night.
Tonight, we stand here with fully loaded clips.
Treason against Cupid.
On the count of three we commit marital suicide.
We died 10 seconds ago...
"Love is a Battlefield"
Only bloodstains remain on these grounds.
During the last heartbeat I saw Purgatory---As
The loud yells shot through each ear---I'm here
The End
© 2007 Anthony Chavon Hanes
(Pat Benatar Dedication)
As the loud yells shot through each ear,
I wondered would I run out of ammunition.
Discombobulated,
The opposite of elation.
Gravitation now the figment of the imagination.
Each side is so resistant.
At one point we were so persistent.
Now we stand opposite of kinship.
The soldiers approached with vengeance.
I sat on the porch reminiscing on a period,
Where the cracks in my heart were not yet visible;
Physical.
In Pain, my flag waves for forgiveness on this hill.
Still, I feel both sergeants didn't fulfill all duties.
Today, I view myself as an individual.
Analytically, I gathered pieces of the past,
and attempted to decipher when war began.
"Love is a Battlefield"
The field of dreams appears sad behind gray clouds,
And the thunderstorms of lies and deceit defeat;
Reconciliation.
Our troops stand at attention.
We use to pay each other attention.
Did I mention?
Countless passion throughout the night.
Tonight, we stand here with fully loaded clips.
Treason against Cupid.
On the count of three we commit marital suicide.
We died 10 seconds ago...
"Love is a Battlefield"
Only bloodstains remain on these grounds.
During the last heartbeat I saw Purgatory---As
The loud yells shot through each ear---I'm here
The End
© 2007 Anthony Chavon Hanes
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