This is a creative Blog that represents the things I feel and think. Sometimes there will be parts of a book I'm writing[that is not about me!!!],poems, pictures, videos and other strange things that the home world requests of me. I look forward to your comments.
**There will most definitely be ADULT content here, be aware.
The Man said to me, “They don’t make ‘em like that anymore”. I just smiled to show I agreed, but I didn’t. They DO make ‘em like that! There she was standing right there, going over the vegetables with the eyes of a Farmer. She smiled at me and I knew she was real.
We went to three different vegetable stands and all the Seller’s greeted her like an old friend. With three days worth of vegetables between us on the front seat and wind and Sun on our faces, we talked about life, her big brother and our families.
It felt like talking to my big cousin. She was easily open to me. I kept thinking, “Did I meet her so many years before”, but reality said it was only our second meeting.
She said, “Do you want to see my favorite beach in the area?” It had driftwood, stones, grass and a big dune. It was a lot like her, the more time you spend, the more you find to be interested in.
When we got back to her house. She let me watch her cook but would not let me help. It felt like the family I missed with her cooking and giving out advice like what I should do with this friend or that situation.
At the end of my visit with the Manning’s I felt welcome. From the first moment that Claire took my arm to show me the view of the Bay from her balcony, to smile from her daughter Claire when I complimented her on red dress she must have worn just for me. The gift of watching a firework show on a Manhattan rooftop with Marita and Kerry. All the family Bar B-Que’s and cool restaurants and twilight wine tasting.
So as I smiled at the Vegetable man I knew he was wrong. They do make ‘em like that. They made a whole family. Allison was just the first one he met.
I was lucky enough to meet the family that helped shape such a special woman.
I can’t believe I cried, water running down my face.
I can’t believe I cried, leaking all over the place.
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The day started like any other, washed my face and got dressed.
Maybe it was my meditation or was I not feeling my best?
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I watched the news, mergers, hold ups, lost babies and you know all the regular drama.
It was implied that all the criminals and I shared the same mama.
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I left my house to hang with my people.
I walked pass some kids on my bloc, they looked at me lethal. Little kids how can they be lethal?
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I caught up with my Mans and ‘nem. They were all full of stress.
They had baby Papa and Mama Drama. Their lives were filled with too many tests.
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I left them to go and find a good book.
On the way I saw an accident and their bumpers were hooked.
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They were fighting and screaming and fist were engaged, from where I stood they all in a rage.
I did what I could to break up the fight. I don’t want to have to punch out someone’s lights. Just for helping out I would land myself on the front page.
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I stopped at the store to play my numbers and get a Snapple, made from the best stuff on Earth.
As I bugged off the slogan on the bottle, I stood by the freezer. Some guy came in and stole this lady’s purse.
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I thought about chasing him but some other brothers were too fast.
Looking at this lady, her hair in four braids, she brought back a vision direct from my past.
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I said to the frightened older lady, “Just in case they don’t catch him I’ll give you some cash.”
It’s always terrible when your life feels like a sudden car crash.
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I paid for her groceries and asked her to wait. I would walk her home because I could see it shook her.
As we neared her door, she started to thank me, like old ladies do all sweet and unsure.
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As I turned to leave I saw a cop car. He had the purse snatcher or in another life a track star.
I said thank you officer for lending a hand; he said do you have ID for this purse? Please put your hands on the car.
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He checked me and cuffed me and had me down on my knees. I asked, what’s the problem? He was taking my keys.
He called for back up to take me to the station. He smiled a sick smile as I saw blood on my knee.
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I was lock up for a night because I fit the description. I was locked down, violated and deterred from my mission.
My cell mate was big and wore only some holly shorts. He smelled like an ass but I knew better than to start dissin’.
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He looked at me like I was the next competitor.
When looked back at him he looked like a predator.
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All I wanted some fresh air and to find a good book to buy.
When that old lady bailed me out, I can’t believe I cried.