Black Short Stories : God in the Valley

Discussion in 'Short Stories - Authors - Writing' started by AgAbus, Jul 2, 2008.

  1. AgAbus

    AgAbus Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    I was confronted with the strains of N’dambi’s See You In My Dreams Tonight weaving in and out of my mindscape…leaving aural impressions that converged into mental images of sunshine piecemeal and jazz.
    Last night had been spent tossing and turning, really dreading the aspect of having to wake up. It’s something about having to confront a day, a reality that you would rather smother; committing some type of day-icide just to keep from opening one’s eyes to reality. N’dambi’s joint quickly switches to Talib Kweli’s Everything Man; my ears quickly erect to the voice of Madame Sonia Sanchez’s opening poetics…I smile and quickly rise up, my eyes scraping the morning with some gruff hello.

    He’s lying next to me…I glance over at him, his face cradled in the staining chiaroscuro of the morning…tracing lines of peace across his face. He is beautiful…he is delectable and seeing him lying next to me I can’t help but feel both pleasure and this vapid aching. Images of last night assault my mind; making their selves known like the family roaches does with company. Kat said his name was Olufemi Pinc, but he preferred to be called Olu. I found it striking that his name meant God loves me. We’d engaged in this near hour long stare contest at Jefa’s (yeh-fah’s) before he eventually made his way to my table. We conversated…created lasting monuments with our words; each of us adopting the role of landscaper/architect; building, constructing buildings and memorials in each others’ mind and soul that would last for…who knew. He was a poet. I was a poet. It was a marriage of mutual interest interspersed with attraction. I enjoyed what he served up and he ate up what I presented to his palate. We must have ‘churned up the dusts’ of linguistics for the better portion of two hours before he smiled and excused himself to head to the stage and present his set.

    Brotha man was utterly talented in the way he seamed together words; some opposites, some just plain wrong, and made a tapestry of thought and imagination that covered our cerebral with never before seen colors and sounds. His affect prodded me toward the stage where I presented my own version of spoken word.


    Blkness i have watched
    u gather remnants of
    shattered yesterdays…
    I have been pushed and
    primed toward hoarding
    the last vestiges of your smiles
    in my open pores…
    i
    will watch u rain your
    words across thirsty
    minds and watch u grant
    repose to engorged souls
    with ur hurricane speech keeping
    rhythm with the beats of
    dethroned hearts that yearn for
    uplifting living.
    Blkness i will watch
    u gather and repair
    what we used to be.



    Finishing my piece I headed back to my seat to the barrage of snaps and claps to my poetic defecation. He sat back and watched me thru ebony eyes that spoke of silence, depth and something deeply unexplainable. I remember the smirk staining his full lips. I remember having this strange thought that he reminded me of the Canaanite god Baal; and I would be his High Priest…I would…my thoughts trailed off when he piled laudations at my doorstep, then stood back to view his handiwork. We’d traded conversation for over two and a half hours and still I didn’t know his name and he wasn’t aware of mine. At that time he leaned forward, fixing me with intensity and spoke his name in the language of the Dead Sea…Olufemi…speechless and slightly winded I replied dryly Arryk.

    One word described it: world wind

    I was new to this entire sexuality thing...new to relationships and relations with men…it was like switching from my cigarettes to Cubans.
    I had yet to engage in anything suspect or remotely debilitating to myself, and no one had any unction that I enjoyed the company of men. However old boy had me open like a good James Baldwin novel…and I was all for getting ‘read.’

    I stare at him, lying there peacefully…peacefully.

    I wonder why I can’t achieve peace. We’ve been together for the last three years and each moment has been as much of a God-send as they’ve been hellacious. Through it all we’ve maintained and I’ve come to stain him with my love and affection as much if not more than he loves me. After all that time and even during that time I’ve been bothered…it’s been a quiet nagging that has snaked up the my spine since we first lie down to copulate. I can’t really give understanding to it accept to say that what I’ve been doing doesn’t agree with me deep within. This is when the problems began to surface.


    tba



     
  2. asimplepoet

    asimplepoet Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    Wow you got me hook, line, and sinker. I can't wait for more of this interesting read.
     
  3. AgAbus

    AgAbus Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    yo poet...
    I appreciate you greatly!
    I sure will be coming thru
    with another installment.



     
  4. watzinaname

    watzinaname Well-Known Member MEMBER

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    I'm on the edge of my seat wondering, ok, so what's wrong, what's bothering this man in his core? Awaiting the next installment, please...
     
  5. $$RICH$$

    $$RICH$$ Lyon King Admin. STAFF

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    whoaaaa!! you got me sitting here thinking what's next !
    can't wait to get more details to ease my wondering wow...
    more more more !!!!!
     
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