He wasn’t my father’s first child, but I’m sure today we might consider him his first son. His name was Malik, and in many ways, he was my first big brother. While my big sister Alicia had to grow up splitting time, Malik was with him 24/7. From the time he could fit into my father’s pocket, to his tag-along terrible 2’s and 3’s, to his untimely death. I’ll get to that dreadful day, but first I’d like to talk about my brother from another mother.

Malik always was more like Watts than me. He was incredibly quick and athletic. He possessed the kind of ingenuity that could be both creative or crafty. He had an almost intuitive street-sense and smarts about him at all times. Perhaps most like Pops, he had an aggressive disposition that comes with being of smaller stature and seemed to always carry a boulder-sized chip on his shoulders. In hindsight, it’s easy for me to see how such traits contributed as much to Malik continually being in trouble as it did to my father’s success. For my dad, that mellowed with age and experience. Malik unfortunately never got that chance to grow.

I remember that day in May of 2004 as if it were yesterday. It was my last day of First grade and my baby sister’s last day of Kindergarten. The night before my mom had given me back my Gameboy and PlayStation 2; she even secretly made arrangements for my best friend “Nola” to come over from the far Westside. The teachers and administrators at Robert Lee Frost IPS 106 decided to end the last day with a schoolwide Walk/Run for charity. It seemed like a pleasant way to end the previous day. The weather was gorgeous. Sunny with a calm breeze that kept the heat in check. We were all giddy after our charitable actions and glad that we had aced another year of school. It was supposed to be a celebratory day.

It seems fate had seen it differently. Malik had loved our old neighbor, we all did. But her son had seen fit to put her in a home and moved in with his kids shortly after. Malik and the neighbor boy had been at it from the start. I was always taken back by their drama. Malik was a mere fraction of his size on a good day. That particular day while we were all away, their words escalated into actions. I never did get the full story.

It quickly became a bad day. I remember my uncle getting his own severe injury attempting to break them up. Him and my dad rushing Malik to the hospital with large wounds throughout his torso. The neighbor was doing the same with bloodied bruises and scars on his boy’s face and a significant injury to his neck. We all waited through the night for updates in panicked prayer. I remember praying to God, “Save them both, but if only one Lord, please choose my big brother.” I believe they both survived the blood loss, but Malik died on the operating table. I remember questioning God’s sense of justice. It was the first time I ever witnessed my father cry. It was my first encounter with demons on my back demanding revenge. The neighbor boy died post-op due to infection from his wounds. However, for some reason, I never felt relieved from this seemingly divine retribution. At the tender age of 8, I realized I was wrong. All life is equally precious.

Fast-forward to 2018. Our culture often encourages and occasionally praises, the pursuit of animalistic characteristics in our artificial habitats. While I’ve been blessed to have many more big brothers and comrades come into my life, Malik was there first, and the second that went. How would it change the story if I told you they were both black?... How much would your perspective warp if I told you while I’ve yet to lie, both Malik and the “neighbor boy” were actually a Miniature Pincher and a German Shepherd.

Regardless of what this revelation did in your opinion of this short story, to this day it still feels as if he left too soon. Regrettably, I’ve watched way too many humans follow a similar fate. I’m sure millions of people can relate to that pain. For reasons beyond our comprehension they’re gone, and we’re still here. We live with the backdrop of sociocultural and political differences like the “All Lives Matter” vs. “Black Lives Matter” debate beginning to manifest itself as Neo-Nazis doubling down on paramilitary training for an “impending race war”--apparently the masses have yet to hear about--and emboldened reactions from groups like Antifa. I pray for a near-future where we embrace our collective humanity and put an end to this toxic escalation. For all those that died, let us seek peace.

To my people and the vast majority of people that only wish to live their lives; who hope and work daily so that their children might have a brighter future where they can do the same, I’d like to paraphrase the words of Claude McKay.

If we must die, let it not be like dogs

Hunting and penning others in inglorious spots.

While round us bark the mad hiding in fogs

Making their mock at our divided lot.

If we must die, O let us nobly die

So that our precious blood may not be shed

In vain; then even the damned we defy

Might be constrained to honor us through life!

O, kinsmen! We must meet our familiar foe!

They’re far outnumbered so let us be brave,

And for their countless blows make them sew

Whatever awaits before and beyond the grave!

Still, human, we’ll face the barbarous, cowardly pack,

Stressed through a wall, half-dying, but fighting back!

#Nonfiction

#Shortstory

#Poetry

Deep roots on Gaia’s tooth.

Treetops where Earth stops?

Blue Skies and morning dew.

Scarce water and thin air too?

If they can make it there;

With Heaven above, even

In Hell there’s nothing

That I can’t do!

#Poetry

Pretty cloud, don’t cry.

I see a darkness in you.

Rains bring flowers, but

I’d rather see the sparkle through you.

Sunshine or moonlight,

Still shining through night.

Radiant smile, snow white.

Yet, there’s still a darkness in you.

Cher flower, don’t cry.

There’s a darkness in the sky.

Grey clouds are coming,

Comely flower, don’t die!

Cloud darkened days,

Turn sunlit nights.

I suppose then,

A few things are true:

Contradictions abound,

Cycles come ’round.

You likely need me;

I’d die without you.

#Romance

#Poetry

[DIW:]

My God is learning,

Just try His ways.

Your soul doesn’t stay in a grave.

Dim then, dull now, desired help on its way!

“High off of life”, look, lying

Crying inside; smile on your face.

I can’t stay silent, I go godly when my world turns gray;

When demons on my back.

Fuck the shrinks and the pharmacies, He came back.

I don’t need to know his plan, as long as I got 20 sack.

I don’t know one disciple that’s never fell off track*

Trouble is trying, this is being black.

Be the brightest one in the pack.

Fight like my father did, Spit like a baby does.

I sprint like I’m on my back, and prey like I just got lapped*

They tried to label me a non-factor

I’m like that white rapper,

Cold cracker. Living is driving; ghostride the wheel.

*

You baited, you waited, you bade it, then, you made me feel*

You made it, straight, waited, medicated, hated, waited

You’re Mood disordered still;

Makes ya find another heart to steal.

Picture me, fifth of Firesweet and a pearled beezy

False identity, ’til a Rest In Peace shook me

“Wake up, wake up” like remember me?

Said sum minus one makes none, and you finna see

You ain’t as good as you finna be

You got some dumb nigga tendencies

[DFA:]

Temperamental tempory

I keep it all in‒‒besides it’s...I’m a stranger.

Drinking is praying for a concrete halo

Degenerated, underrated, ever-changing fable

Like ganjas good, the drugs in me are goodly, no godly

The Bible say this is temporary

But I’ve made my home at granny’s house

My life looks like there is no God

I only ask for strength if I say my prayers

I’ve errored, no stairs, where peace is rest or problems manifest

Living is tiring, I know there’s an Ironman in me

Afro-Americano mother deceased

But do we ever die?

[DIW & DFA:]

Trouble is trying

[DIW:]

I tried to wrestle with God, in my head, ’til He broke me

’Cause He blessed me, and big bro rescued my heart

I struggle with love, I wish I could juggle

I cuddle not coddle, I’ve shipwrecked a bottle, I’m happy with hugs

Living is tiring bra, Earth watching raining frogs

God watching Damon, Damon watching all of yaw

Perspective is a lot of pilots with different maps

[DFA & Noname (DIW and Chance):]

Ya’ll giving back?

(We giving back)

Tit for tat

[Noname Gypsy:]

Synagogue and bottle caps

A body in the underpass says, where’s my Jesus?

Pledge allegiance to the money now

We runnin down to kiddie parks where darker kids be casualty

Like come with me, to the museum

[Chance The Rapper, Noname Gypsy, DIW, DFA:]

Excuse them, they know of what they do

[Chance The Rapper:]

Sparring is training, don’t let Denzel Training Day you

Sensei could catch a fade too

We be onnat elegant hella melanin

Pelle Pelle’s since they crayons and jelly pens

[Chance The Rapper (Noname Gypsy){DIW}[DFA]:]

(And now you know Noname ain’t never for none)

Ayo, you know Chano ain’t never for none

[And now you know DFA ain’t never for none]

{Ayo, you know D.Watts ain’t never for none}

Aha, and you don’t stop

Boom bap, and you don’t stop

I told you that was gonna be fun though

#Lyrics

#Poetry

Mom at Six Months: "Wake up honey, it's your turn", to my dad.

Me at Sixteen Months: "Wake uh Ake", to our dog.

Me at Six: "Wake up mommy, why are you still sleeping!?"

Grandma Six Months later: "Son wake up, you can't spend the rest of your life sleeping"

Me in Sixth Grade: "Dad wake up, I'm late for school!"

Me at Sixteen: "World wake up, I have a story to tell. Why are you

sleeping!?" To anyone who will listen...

Heated, Polished, and Dropped.

The glass is Fractured and Cracked.

Crush down, Write down,

Throw back in the fire.

Condense and put back under pressure.

The diamond is formed after time's elapsed.

Blemished, scratched, and fractured yet again.

There are Pits and Chips aplenty;

The inside is cloudy.

The diamond is valuable;

The process is priceless!

Where there was once only youth,

There is now wisdom far beyond my years.

I have never seen a righteous man forsaken,

Nor a wild thing sorry for itself‒‒

However, once upon a time…

There was a deafblind boy with a dream,

Living a life of smoke and mirrors.

His face wears a smile;

His reality mimics Job’s.

If ignorance is bliss,

Behold the quiet liar;

Behalf his seeing sister,

Hearing Ms. and Mr.

Half-hearted relief

Turns dis-ease.

Half-ounce of trees

Turns ounce of peace.

Funeral after funeral,

Another R.I.P.

How ironic the boy’s best memory

Is smiling on a beautiful, vibrant beach

Where he buried his dream,

Baptized himself, and DIED.

I wonder if that boy died,

From feeling sorry for himself.

He wasn’t my father’s first child, but I’m sure today we might consider him his first son. His name was Malik, and in many ways, he was my first big brother. While my big sister Alicia had to grow up splitting time, Malik was with him 24/7. From the time he could fit into my father’s pocket, to his tag-along terrible 2’s and 3’s, to his untimely death. I’ll get to that dreadful day, but first I’d like to talk about my brother from another mother.

Malik always was more like Watts than me. He was incredibly quick and athletic. He possessed the kind of ingenuity that could be both creative or crafty. He had an almost intuitive street-sense and smarts about him at all times. Perhaps most like Pops, he had an aggressive disposition that comes with being of smaller stature and seemed to always carry a boulder-sized chip on his shoulders. In hindsight, it’s easy for me to see how such traits contributed as much to Malik continually being in trouble as it did to my father’s success. For my dad, that mellowed with age and experience. Malik unfortunately never got that chance to grow.

I remember that day in May of 2004 as if it were yesterday. It was my last day of First grade and my baby sister’s last day of Kindergarten. The night before my mom had given me back my Gameboy and PlayStation 2; she even secretly made arrangements for my best friend “Nola” to come over from the far Westside. The teachers and administrators at Robert Lee Frost IPS 106 decided to end the last day with a schoolwide Walk/Run for charity. It seemed like a pleasant way to end the previous day. The weather was gorgeous. Sunny with a calm breeze that kept the heat in check. We were all giddy after our charitable actions and glad that we had aced another year of school. It was supposed to be a celebratory day.

It seems fate had seen it differently. Malik had loved our old neighbor, we all did. But her son had seen fit to put her in a home and moved in with his kids shortly after. Malik and the neighbor boy had been at it from the start. I was always taken back by their drama. Malik was a mere fraction of his size on a good day. That particular day while we were all away, their words escalated into actions. I never did get the full story.

It quickly became a bad day. I remember my uncle getting his own severe injury attempting to break them up. Him and my dad rushing Malik to the hospital with large wounds throughout his torso. The neighbor was doing the same with bloodied bruises and scars on his boy’s face and a significant injury to his neck. We all waited through the night for updates in panicked prayer. I remember praying to God, “Save them both, but if only one Lord, please choose my big brother.” I believe they both survived the blood loss, but Malik died on the operating table. I remember questioning God’s sense of justice. It was the first time I ever witnessed my father cry. It was my first encounter with demons on my back demanding revenge. The neighbor boy died post-op due to infection from his wounds. However, for some reason, I never felt relieved from this seemingly divine retribution. At the tender age of 8, I realized I was wrong. All life is equally precious.

Fast-forward to 2018. Our culture often encourages and occasionally praises, the pursuit of animalistic characteristics in our artificial habitats. While I’ve been blessed to have many more big brothers and comrades come into my life, Malik was there first, and the second that went. How would it change the story if I told you they were both black?... How much would your perspective warp if I told you while I’ve yet to lie, both Malik and the “neighbor boy” were actually a Miniature Pincher and a German Shepherd.

Regardless of what this revelation did in your opinion of this short story, to this day it still feels as if he left too soon. Regrettably, I’ve watched way too many humans follow a similar fate. I’m sure millions of people can relate to that pain. For reasons beyond our comprehension they’re gone, and we’re still here. We live with the backdrop of sociocultural and political differences like the “All Lives Matter” vs. “Black Lives Matter” debate beginning to manifest itself as Neo-Nazis doubling down on paramilitary training for an “impending race war”--apparently the masses have yet to hear about--and emboldened reactions from groups like Antifa. I pray for a near-future where we embrace our collective humanity and put an end to this toxic escalation. For all those that died, let us seek peace.

To my people and the vast majority of people that only wish to live their lives; who hope and work daily so that their children might have a brighter future where they can do the same, I’d like to paraphrase the words of Claude McKay.

If we must die, let it not be like dogs

Hunting and penning others in inglorious spots.

While round us bark the mad hiding in fogs

Making their mock at our divided lot.

If we must die, O let us nobly die

So that our precious blood may not be shed

In vain; then even the damned we defy

Might be constrained to honor us through life!

O, kinsmen! We must meet our familiar foe!

They’re far outnumbered so let us be brave,

And for their countless blows make them sew

Whatever awaits before and beyond the grave!

Still, human, we’ll face the barbarous, cowardly pack,

Stressed through a wall, half-dying, but fighting back!

If we must die, let it not be like dogs

Hunting and penning others in inglorious spots.

While round us bark the mad hiding in fogs

Making their mock at our divided lot.

If we must die, O let us nobly die

So that our precious blood may not be shed

In vain; then even the damned we defy

Might be constrained to honor us through life!

O, kinsmen! We must meet our familiar foe!

They’re far outnumbered so let us be brave,

And for their countless blows let them sew

Whatever awaits before and beyond the grave!

Still human, we’ll face the barbarous, cowardly pack,

Stressed through a wall, half-dying, but fighting back!

One crisp Fall night worlds away, two youths lie next to each other covered only in thin quilts and sand. For some reason not yet known, it was cloudy inside the girl. The otherwise black sky seemed to burst with starlight that shone beautifully on her hair. Her mind was elsewhere; another time, place, or person perhaps.

Suddenly, a light flashed. In a frenzied panic, the boy attempted to cover the young lady from view. “Excuse me, this public beach is closed,” said the man who’s jacket seemed to read, “Police” from afar. Half-exposed, the boy cleverly pretended to be embarrassed, “Oh! My sincerest apologies officer, my girlfriend and I will leave immediately.” In his heavy Yankee accent, the officer replied “Well that’s all you had to say! I’m not an asshole. Give me 20 bucks, and you’re fine.”. The boy knew this was but a small price to pay for a girl as magnificent as her. “Ah, young love.”, remarked the officer.

As the light faded and the man departed, the girl began to replay the scene in her head. One moment she was recalling fond memories of another, and the next this odd fellow was chivalrously protecting her from whoever had disturbed their--but most importantly her--peace. It was a peculiar sight for her. She didn’t mind being seen, it wouldn’t have been her first time with multiple men gazing upon her glory.

“Girlfriend!?”, she thought to herself, “I barely know the guy.” *She scoffed loudly* “Psh, young love? As if”, she said dryly. The thought of loving, or for that matter, even liking again so soon repulsed her...but she had to admit, his manners were admirable; his lack of them when and where it counted was enthralling, to say the least. As if on cue the boy rebutted, “Round 2?”. And so it was back on.

The moonlight began to dance ever so carefully on the ocean’s edge. By this late hour, the kids were sure to be rudely greeted by the high tide. Nevertheless, they continued to kiss on the beach almost as playfully as pups. Round 2 was different. There was something about the boy she was more sure about. Her confidence in him continued to rise at roughly the same pace as their heart rate.

The boy was anxious, she was quieter than most girls. The girl was nervous, not knowing how it all would end. Undoubtedly she cared considerably more than she had initially. Indeed, she hoped he might feel the same; the feeling was shared. She began to tense up uncontrollably, and both of their toes started to twitch. At the height of their emotions, there was mutual relief; almost simultaneous orgasms. As she cuddled next to the boy and the ambient light hit both of their eyes, the pair caught a quick glimpse at each other’s souls. Unquestionable chemistry. Simply, beautiful...

#Romance #Erotica #Fiction