Urban fiction/ Street fiction / Short stories and Poetry

Comment

Comment by Joseph Childress on August 11, 2008 at 7:08pm

Tragedy pt. 2 - Robbed of Life

By Joseph Childress - Nocturnal Poetry

Like father like son, he likes the money that comes fast,
Father’s mistakes in the past, got his child making cash.
Which path to go, who the hell knows,
But the Ave. that he chose will bring loads of dough.
Robbing liquors stores, pimping whores, living hardcore,
More cars he can afford and yachts he can hop aboard,
But when the missions failed will he have time to abort,
No time to worry, got to hurry, winters coming early,
And his girl needs something furry.
Mink coats, pink totes, drink coke,
With ice on her hand heavy enough to sink boats.
But when he reaches fame with a name synonymous with the game,
He hoped that his name remains anonymous to the gangs.
Because when they find out his claim to fame,
Got him buying watches and chains,
And riding the block in his Range,
They’ll give him peace in exchange
For a piece of his change.

But of course his ego will rise,
When there’s a desert eagle on his side
And he drives a regal ride when he’s passing people by.
But just because he looking fly doesn’t mean he couldn’t die,
Everybody got guns; he needs support to stay alive.
All of sudden by surprise he stares a pistol down its eye,
As a robber in disguise tells the kid to say goodbye.

Comment by PC Marks on August 9, 2008 at 11:22am

Here's a sneak peak into Broken Family Ties! Feel free to critique:

Grandparent’s Rules

Alicia was awakened in the wee hours of the morning to the phone ringing. Initially, she thought she had dreamed of the ringing. When she reached for the phone all she heard was a dial tone.
Unable to fall asleep, she turned on the television. Henry’s snoring agitating her, she got out of bed. Downstairs next to her daughter’s favorite chair resting on the solid oak table beside it in the living room was her salvation.
She picked up the bible, closed her eyes and opened it. The passage revealed was the 23rd Psalms. Verse four slapped her hard. Ye, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: For You are with me: Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood. There were goose bumps forming down her arms. She began to scratch. Alicia closed her eyes. A startling vision dropped her to her knees. Tears rolled down her face. The phone rang. Hesitantly on the third ring she grabbed the receiver.
“I know. What happened?” Grandma Alicia listened carefully to the details being given on the other end. “What!” She interrupted. “I’m sorry, continue,” she said.
Grandma Alicia returned the phone receiver to its cradle. She went into the kitchen. Looking around, she started rearranging. Talking to herself she said, “The spices belong over the stove, not in some rotating shelf beside the sink. I think the lids should be in this area and the pots and pans over there.”
Henry was awakened by the racket. He descends the stairs taking in the view of his daughter’s beautiful home. He marvels at the plush light beige carpet his feet sink into as he winds down the stairs. The living room is elegant with its dark tan and mahogany wood Queen Anne furnishings. The formal dining room is decorated with a solid oak eight seat table. There’s a matching China cabinet and hutch. He enters the kitchen to find Alicia rearranging what used to be an immaculate kitchen.
Before speaking he takes in the sight. An island sits in the middle of the floor. The cabinets are oak with stenciled glass displaying expensive dinnerware. The design on the glass is identical to the China cabinet doors in the dining room. The breakfast nook overlooks the professionally manicured backyard.
“Ya momma didn’t teach you to say good morning?” Alicia says, interrupting Henry’s admiration of his daughter’s home.
“Good morning,” Why are you rearranging this child’s things? I think you enjoy antagonizing Ann. Alicia you can’t do this.” Henry tried reasoning with his wife.
“Put her things back where she had them,” he said.
“She won’t need them,” Alicia continued setting up her daughter’s kitchen. She offered Henry a cup of coffee, finished setting up the kitchen and began preparing a hardy breakfast.
The sun was shining brightly through the beautiful bay windows. Breakfast had the entire house smelling beautifully. A quiet peaceful day was dawning. Grandpa was determined to not let Alicia ruin his.
Carl was awakened to Charles’ screaming. He rushed to his crib. He changed his diaper, gave him his bottle and held him in his arms. He wouldn’t stop wailing.
Caroline heard the noise. Upon entering her old room she said, “The walls were pink not blue, the crib white, not this ugly brown. Strawberry Shortcake decorated the wall border not the stupid baseball, basket ball, football and hockey stick border with that stupid mobile hanging from the crib to match.” She turned to leave the room.
“Help,” Carl said. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him. Go get Grandpa or something,” he demanded.
Caroline grinned. She leisurely strolled down steps she normally took two at a time. Casually entering the kitchen, she told the Grandparents, “That baby is acting up again, think you can do something.”
Alicia continued preparing breakfast ignoring her grandchild. Henry shakes his head side to side as he makes his way up the stairs.
“Okay, Okay. It’s alright. I’m here now.” Charles continued wailing. Grandpa Henry asked, “Has he been changed? Maybe he’s hungry?” The three, Charles being carried by Grandpa, Carl holding his free hand headed down stairs.
Carl sensed something was wrong. The gnawing feeling in his gut made him uneasy. He held on tight to his Grandpa.
Grandma Alicia stared at the howling baby. She approached Grandpa Henry. “Give him to me.” He bent over to place Charles in her arms. Grandma Alicia and her grandson’s eyes locked. He quieted.
She asked Carl to wipe down Charles’ high chair as she set the dining room table. Carl told her, “We eat breakfast in here,” he said pointing to the built in breakfast nook. She ignored him continuing to place breakfast in the center of the dining room table.
As she finished setting the table, she called for the grandchildren and Henry. Grandma Alicia explained the rules. “When you are called for breakfast, lunch or dinner, it will be in here. You are to thank God for receiving the blessing of food. You are not to eat or drink before grace is completed. You are not to leave the table without asking to be excused.”
Caroline and Carl’s eyes met. Carl couldn’t shake the eerie feeling. Caroline was unusually quiet. Her lips thinned, an evil glare watched her Grandmother.
Grandma Alicia continued on with the rules. She lowered her head, raised her joined hands inches from her face and closed her eyes. Lord we come to thank you for this nourishment. We ask that it does what you intend. That it keeps us healthy provides us with strength. Thank you for blessing us with these children. Help us guide them in the path of righteousness. As we embark on this journey of raising them, we ask for strength and courage to go forward.
She became quiet. Carl, Caroline and Grandpa Henry all opened there eyes. Grandma Alicia continued.
Help these babies deal with the loss of there parents, Jesus’ name, amen.
The days that followed seemed to take place in slow motion. Swarms of church goers were in attendance. The food seemed to never stop coming. Neighbors stopped by to pay there respect. Everyone hugged, kissed and assured the children they would be okay.
Charles wailed through the whole service. Carl was inconsolable, his wailing at times drowning the sound of his brother. Caroline stared. A far away glazed expression, she never shed a tear.
Grandpa prayed for the peaceful rest of the living children’s soul, the deliverance of the souls of Ann and Kevin, the softening of his cold heartless wife.
Kevin and Ann Grover were buried side by side in the Grover family plot next to Kevin’s parents. The going home celebration took place on the very day they were due to return home.


Official Site: www.pcpcmarks.com
http://www.lulu.com/content/583716

Comment by PC Marks on July 20, 2008 at 1:21pm

Young, Black & Male

I gave birth to a bright eyed pink baby boy.
Until that time I knew no joy.

He is beautiful from head to toe
I wonder when he grows up
will he know friend from foe

He’s all grown up now and dark as night.
Still beautiful with eyes that shine bright.

He’ll keep his head up and do the right thing
He already knows the sorrow that he brings

He’ll hear his parents whispering to him
and praying for his soul at night,
He’ll see himself in his father’s bright eyes

He’ll be alright with whatever he has to do
because one thing he knows for sure,
His family’s love for him is pure

By
PC Marks


Official Site: www.pcpcmarks.com
http://www.lulu.com/content/583716

Comment by Tahanee on July 9, 2008 at 4:00pm

Hello everyone,

I hope you all had a wonderful holiday and I looking forward to hearing from on tonight's poetry show!

Tahanee :)

Comment by Snake Eyes on July 2, 2008 at 12:45am

HOW THE TABLES TURN

he worked hard. this young man upgraded from his environment
no confinements or indictments. he Peter Pan'd past the pirates

Good life. No regrets or stress helped form a better trajectory
he tried to take the best steps while minding everybody's beliefs

he moved from the hood to a house & stepped more towards independence
so he rewarded himself. he didn't have to cash checks with dependents.

his 1st love was music, specifically rap. he reminisced on the past.
he came from his mom's Oldsmobile, now he pushes a Lac.

his last thought was of mom. he survived with her inspiration.
she made miracles with money when their income was devastated.

so he visited. his street got better, but there were no parking spaces
so he parked around the corner while his rims still ran a race

he got out & stopped at the curb till he heard his alarm beep.
he walked & heard beating feet, turned & was rushed up an alley.

he was dragged halfway up, beaten & had his head thrown at the wall.
he couldn't crawl. they lifted him up & let go to watch him fall.

he was picked up again. "Welcome home rich man!
you're full of gifts, Santa Clause! i'm the Grinch of your past!"

the kid ripped his diamond stones out his lobes & put a gun to his dome.
"This'll get mom a new car!" he ripped the rock out his nose.

the other kid grabbed the bracelet off one wrist & the watch from his other
saying, "These are the birthday gifts i'ma give to my brother!"

they took off his Avi coat & snatched off his Timberland boots.
they tore some hair off his head & grabbed his Fitted hat, too.

they broke his chain off his neck & opened his mouth to see his grill.
"Aww, damn. you ain't got no gold? nigga, hit him with the steel!"

they checked his clothes. took his money & keys & ran off laughing.
he was awake to hear his car beep & engine start in his Caddilac.

he passed out & died bleeding from a fatality of injuries.
another kid checked for a wallet & out of frustration shot out his knees

he was found two days later. the rain drained his blood to the street.
an officer reported he was beaten so bad they had to identify him by his teeth.

the case is still unsolved. his house was soon auctioned & sold.
his mom wanted "he died where he was born" engraved on his gravestone.

there was no more family. she got his money, but died naturally in a month.
so the government took it. his hard work went back to where it was from.

noone knew he slept around in youth. he never knew he impregnated a young lady.
she shifted her hate for him to her son. he was killed by his own baby.

i would like to hear what anyone has to say. i like the feedback.
holla back

Comment by Jill on June 14, 2008 at 4:46pm

glitter-

Comment by Tahanee on June 12, 2008 at 9:37am

Hello and Thank you all for tuning into the show last night. I had a BLAST!! See on the next show on July 9th at 7:30pm!!

Comment by Cee Brooks on June 10, 2008 at 10:37am

This morning I had a thought... Not a major earthshaking revelation but, a simple low key one... A saying I've heard for years got some meaning for me today. Time stops for no-one... no matter how hard we try to stop, pause, change, recalcute it, fast forward or rewind it. We as just a small add in to this major movement. We can send up prayers, get stuck in the past, get lost in the future but, these things will never stop time. We only have this moment , the tick of this very beat and the completion of it is no guarntee. We have this sun ray, this heatwave, a light breeze from the gracious winds but, the absolution that we will see the sun setting is not promised. I was blessed this morning to "get it". To accept that I am nothing more than dust, a figment of another person's thoughts. Have you ever wonder why it is that we can not see our physical selves but only others. It's because we are suppose to be judged by our insides, the soul we craddle, our thoughts and sometimes our actions. Time moves, jumps and leaps on even when we have frozen ourselves. The earth is ever changing. We are just a blink in God's eye. A twinkle in the Heavens and a prayer for someone else. This morning I realized we are all connected not by want but, by a need! We are the time chasers, weaving threw the slipstreams from a Higher Being.

Comment by Juanita Betts on June 6, 2008 at 8:19pm

Hello to all!

Have a great weekend and check out my events which are unfolding on my page, please.

Juanita

Comment by Cee Brooks on June 4, 2008 at 2:23pm

I know we have never met just connected with by a common thread. A yearning, a wish and a burning that our lives have so much more to give....
Our words are the gift that uplifts, backs down and pushes our readers to a newer ground...
I wish for you peace, joy and love...
I know some of your stories come from your lives that may have been happy, sad and may still make you mad....
I wish for you peace in those midnight night hours when your storms are pouring out rivers of self doubt.....
I wish for you love, the one that comes from the Heavens above...
I wish for you joy cause baby you've earned it....
i wish you success, not just finical, but a satisfaction of accomplishment...
I do not look at you as my competion but as my friend...
For as you move up that mountain it gives me hope that with each passing step you pave makes my way more smoothier...
Thank you for believing in you....

• First
• Previous
• Next
• Last