It had been a good morning. I woke up feeling beautiful and full of life. I'd called my very good friend Fola for our usual morning chat and we had teased ourselves over the phone. She got drunk the night before at the club and some random guy had taken advantage of her drunkenness! He was about to start fondling her ***** when I came into the picture! She was giggly and flirty and that probably gave the guy the green light.

She was a bit embarrassed when I brought it up but Fola was a cool headed person so she laughed it off. I went through my daily routine like a zombie, it was the same old thing; dress up, go for lectures and then see what else we could do with the day. The week was usually like that. We take turns to sleep in each other's room, we were always together. She had a serious relationship! At least it looked that way at the time and I wasn't envious, I'd never been that kind of person. But I was just a free lady, men didn't appeal to me much but occasionally I get some that are my type but they always come with a price. In came this guy, I'd met him through her. The kind of guy that goes with anything and anyone. He speaks well and before I knew it, he became my addiction. She wasn't comfortable with it, but it was harmless! With her relationship she sure was heading for the alter so I discarded all the pointers I saw. She couldn't be in love with Scott, it would be farcical. Weeks later Raymond asked me out and I said no. I didn't want anything that'll get in the way of our friendship. And considering the fact that he was quite controversial, I didn't want to be his fancy woman either.

However, I found solace in him and discovered he really had ears for listening. He made me calm in the most ugly situation. He was my rock, I depended on him. We had it going for a while and one day he offered to take me out for dinner and I didn't hesitate. I unwittingly got into a situation I would have preferred on a normal day to be a nightmare.  He had a friend with him so there was no need to be nervous. We had a civilised conversation, nothing unnerving. I was starting to have the idea of me and him together, a happy ever after kind of story. I was wrong, I was in for it and sure took the bait. Time passed so quickly it was late! There was no cab for me to call and he said he couldn't drive me home! I wasn't sure, but the probing between my thighs wanted to explore. We got to his house and we settled.


Later things got really emotional and we started to kiss. I was on tenterhooks. My hands roamed his body softly, afraid I would tamper with something delicate. He explored my body with confidence, my ******* were taut when his hands found them at last. I made sounds in my throat and he giggled! When his mouth found my *******, I gasped! He ****** them as he spread my thigh and fondled with my honey spot. When he finally took me, it was ecstasy. He was mumbling reassuring words and I responded with passion. We were at it, somewhat changing positions, I was embarrassed and he laughed at me. When he came, he tried to stop himself from shouting by using my shoulder. He left me ******* bite marks. I nursed the shoulder for a few days and that was all.


When my friend called me, she was somewhat disappointed and insinuated I'd been used and it shouldn't have been me. I was dumbfounded, I shed hot tears and couldn't stop. Could Ray be the kind of guy who kiss and tell? I heard words I've said to him being replayed and aired by various audience. My relationship with Fola became estranged and there was nothing we could do about it. We stopped sharing thoughts while I hurt! Fola knew me better than anyone in the world, but this particular pain I wasn't willing to share. I felt foolish.

He'd made the bite marks the reference point and evidence. The incessant calls, texts and affection was just a coy. I was broken beyond repair. I didn't wanna get healed. I stopped trusting and couldn't see beyond the hurt. I lost the desire to live. There was nothing to say to those who knew about it, it was simply an emotional mire.
In the end, the possibility I created in my head- of us being together was nothing but a mirage!

. only last night i decided to put out a cigarette stump on my left hand's right knuckle...  squeamish? i didn't exactly hear a protest, invoking a gasp, of imploding pain.

                                           so...
  when was the last time,
you, actually tell your
neighbor to...
  *******...
   trembling with anger
as if waiting to have a fist-fight
over the most minor triviality?
i've heard him speak
foul words before his
supposed bride...
  and before the ******* kid...
i hate bullies...
  back in school i remember
being a bully for a split second...
i stephen kennedy...
   i heard an anecdote
   about a girl forcing him
to eat **** from the pavement...
so i jagged him up
with a fist to the kidneys...
    but then i took care of
         martin elliker -
the crooked toothed hunchback
during chemistry classes...
helped him out from time to time...
didn't mind the bad breath...
     we talked about playing
final fantasy VII...
   in this catholic school -
even the so called bullies protected
the genuine victims,
   from whimps, cry-babies,
you name them...
    and we shared a, as i mentioned
before, a pax non bellum...
we corporated in our approach
for the general morale of the peers...
in the 6 or so years at the school?
one suicide, a girl...
   just one...
              not bad...
       i met this girl at a romford
bus-stop once... told me her father
walked from Ethiopia to England...
        so we took the bus,
to Goodmayes...
    i, trying to be polite...
said i was going to visit a friend
to smoke some marijuana...
   she bought the story...
but then... i had to tell her the truth...
she already shielded my supposed,
slumber approaches with the line:
i have a boyfriend...
   so i told her...
    i'm actually going to the brothel
for an hour's worth of a, "girlfriend"...
all of a sudden, "richard" pops out
out of nowhere...
   "richard" was a proper bully before
moving from high school
to a six former status...
    on the sly:
    on a school trip to Glasbury-on-Wye,
for kayaking, caving, horse-riding,
      just after the mad-cow epidemic
cooled downed...
    each morning...
      me... at the breakfast table...
with about nine afro-saxons...
   not even making jokes
about phallus sizes...
                so this, "richard" remembered me,
asked me if i remembered his name...
which i did, several days later...
OH ****! DANIEL!
           would have been *******
easier if it was Fola Malomo...
a nigerian kid from primary school...
      point being...
  all this "real" life and the internet
imprint, internet banking
and internet shopping - also not being real,
apparently...
      well... internet trolling -
first i'm all for internet transparency,
second of all, some sort of cordiality
ethos -
                 ****-posting is not my thing...
neither is trolling...
   when you have a real problem
with a neighbor, over whether he tells
you that you should inform him
when you're cooking up a barbeque
and he has clothes on the washing line...
and you start trembling,
internalizing berserk anger in a
metaphysical ******...
                 and all you have in your head
is the color red, and plum...
    and a smashed in gorilla cartilage
of what was once a human nose?
    - and you have to use
verbal restraints, akin to: *******...
   what's with all these internet, "problems"?
it's not even worth the tunnel vision
analogy of a horse donning pomp
shutters...
     by then i turn off... become black-eyed,
losing a reference to an iris...
    i become a honing device...
between my tongue and my fist...
   is the matchstick's worth of width
of keeping up the least, or last
         artifact of civilized cordiality;
here?
   but an outlet - a refrigerator...
   some men would probably
      prefer to cool down aiming at
a punching bag...
                i can't do that...
       i have to be more subtle...
   and employ words as the worth
of punches... and a blank canvas as
the punching bag.

A Poem: Revolution Africa*

All hail the Lion King
King Flair Simasiku
A certified change agent
You seem calm, cool and collected
How did you overcome fear
Dining with the king of the jungle
You even spoke their language
When you say "Roar", they roar
When you say "Walk", they walk

Where is Rafiki?
Did he give you the pass code
How did you surmount the insurmountable
"This is not a small something oh"
Success is not for Lilly hearts
But brave heart like you
They said real shekels lays in their mouth
Can you help demystify this mystery?

Tell me King Simasiku
How did you overcome your fears?
How did you win their hearts?
Was Rafiki instrumental
For he is the mouthpiece of the gods
He is the most popular Monkey on earth
Plesse say a word for us

Tell us King of the Jungle
How can we posses a Lion heart
When our leaders coveted the Lion share
They **** our national assets with impunity
Tell me King Simasiku
How do we blaze the trail
Just like you did
The whole world will hear your name
Be kind, take us to your Kingdom
Far away in Namibia
From you, we seek true knowledge

You inspire us King Simasiku
We are a people suffering and smiling
But if you teach us your ways
That we might be bold as a Lion
Then we can face our fears
And make 2020 count
Just like the Eagle Fola
She already raised the bar
And you, you killed it with this exposure

Brace up for impact
This is no PowerPoint
This is no Photoshop
Not even paint or corel draw
This is reality, get close at your peril
The morale behind this
Face your fears or die trying
Even if you perish
The world will remember you
Do it not for yourself
But for your Simba
That they may enjoy tomorrow

There are Scars lurking around
But we will always run to Rafiki
The just and Only Wise One
We refuse to be manipulated
And flee to return like Simba
We will fight for the glory of Africa
And chase every Mufasa out
Wake up Africa!
The hour to liberate her has come
Just say the word my King
And we will follow
Revolution Africa!