there are days, moments when emotions(anger, frustration or just the need to be purely evil(on paper of course) comes up


here, is where you dump them all

lets hear, how you would like to slug him in the jaw

kick him in the balls , or just plain yank his hair off

what measure of pain can you dish out





bring the pain in !!!!

Kick "them" in the balls?

been there, done that, and ran like a little chicken afterwards

ok maybe i need to set an example


lets see hmm:::::::::a little street fury

i slam my fist into his face

and hear the nose crunch, a satisfied feelling filled me

with him doubled over spitting out blood

my grip settled within his dreadlocked hair as if assuming a life of its own rammed his face into the side glass of the BMW parked in the almost empty parking lot, sound of glass shattering resonates through my being

splinters of glass glitters all around me,laced with drops of blood ,his blood

i carefully use my timberland , blue laced boots to gather broken glasses together and amidst his groans of pain ,i seize his dreadlocks yet again and ever so gently mould it with slow twisting movement in circles into the shining glass

get up bitch!

yeah pure Exhilaration , turn is mashed face towards me , his right eye seems to secrete fluid ,his eyeballs, but who cares , clench my fist and smash it again into the bloodied mess


ouch! a one of the glass splinters in his face cuts and embedds itself in my finger

blood, oooo blood moooooooommy

am in trouble my blood doesnt clot!







ok i hope this doesnt sound too violent

if it does blame it on the mafia movies

and documentries of prisoners shanking each other

i am not going to say its easy to take about love or romance

but lets take a different dimension

bring the pain in!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The fight I

Two hours.
My fingernails had seen the wrath of my nervous teeth.
I shivered.
It wasn’t even cold yet the slight wind swept the chills through the thin fabric of my school uniform. I glanced at him; he must have been a head taller than I was but still I must fight him. Pride was at stake, the big boys stood at the back of the class, waiting impatiently for the brawl everyone could sense was coming. The girls chattered excitedly, they wanted me to win . . . afterall I was the class clown and most likeable.

What if I didn’t? What if he ended up stuffing sand into my mouth? Could I depend on the boys to rescue me from a humiliating bruising in the presence of those I strove to please?
This wasn’t even my fight, but stupidly I had taken the bait . . . now I was trapped, backed into a corner and unable to extricate myself from the ever tightening web of fear that gnawed at my heart.

Kokori the art teacher was taking too long. What was interesting about a couple of fired clay pots when a juicy class brawl was being anxiously anticipated? Maybe he knew something about the fight, his eyes rested on mine very briefly, a smile skirting the corners of his lips as if to tell me he could read deep into my soul. What had he seen? Fear? Disinterest?
I could feel the hackles rising at the back of my head, being called out to face the bite of Mr. Kokori’s whip would be the perfect way to begin what was fast turning out to be the worst day of my life.

lol david

i hope you smashed his head with a duster

and stapled his nuts to a ruler

u berra finish that gist ooo

The fight II

Gbagaun! The class bell pealed in the distance.

“Kokori must go ke!”

It was the usual routine; art class would once again spill into the next period. I glanced around anxiously, Musa’s head was bowed in quiet anticipation, muscles coiled taut, fists clenched in front of him, tapping his feet gently as we waited for Kokori to depart.

“Kokoro ma je ori e o, kokori!”

I forced a smile, if Kokori had heard he pretended not to. His small hands instinctively rubbed his precious bald plate as he gathered his books and ugly art materials in readiness for his exit. Two rough-looking fellows I usually never paid attention to were already guarding the second exit. I carefully scanned the windows, no panes . . . they would be my passport to safety in case the beating became too much.

Nyengi giggled behind me, loud enough for me to hear. My face tightened, the mask of fear slipping away for a brief second . . . even if I died doing so I would never lose to anyone while Nyengi watched. I pictured her round face, little fingers running imaginary lines down my cheeks. I pinched the tears back and clenched my fists into balls . . .
This fight would be for Nyengi.

all this aggression for a woman. . .

David. . , it is a knockout

david-------your story is not complete o

i dint read any pain there and this is about pain


street fury 2

the berreta pistol from the prawn shop failed dave

a second time again,ducking his head behind the curb to keep away from the bullets whistling pass him(yes you can

actually hear em fly past)

bloody crip o' five boys, how did them fuckers know i was on kerb street.shit

he struggled with the cork of the pistol which has jammed for the 4th time that day

6shots in the clip,he had just fired 3 rounds and the damn gun jammed, the shooting had stopped by now

and he could feel his heart thud faster each passing second

do they think i have made a dash for it? God please get me out of this and i would never steal again or kill again

he furiously tugs on the recoil action of the pistol and at the same time with his hands on the trigger, crips style

bang!

hole in the leg, his white Sketchers  go red instantly, releasing a loud howl from him,

his face clouded with pain, he looks up to see 3 bloods standing in front of him pistols akin

their red bandanas covering half of their faces, how many times has he being standing in front of a doomed

blood nigger like this before, laughter swells inside him blanking out the pain


6 0 clock news


in what appears to be a gang shootout today on kerb street, a yet to be identified man was brutally murdered this afternoon, his skull was cracked open with what appears to be a high heeled female shoe and the Bizarre thing about it all is that his tongue seems to be cut out and inserted into his ass, whilst a large cut with the insigna CK which on the streets denotes crip killa was made on this back .the detective in charge of the case said investigation is under way the way

i went online looking for direction

as too, how violent people get and this caught my eye

domestic violence is a form of violence that exists so much

but for on reason or the other , it never really gets out.

read this :

Neighborhood violence
It was the first day in our newly rented home that we heard a vicious noise. It sounded like someone was beating women and children. Only a wall of the height of man was between us and the house where the noise and probably cries were coming from. I ran out to look what was happening and saw a bearded young guy kicked an aged and weaker man out of their house. The crying old man immediately disappeared into the street. And the young guy went back shutting the door behind him.

Though this kind of accidents, quarrelling in homes, is common here, and domestic violation is a routine, it bewildered us because we had rented this home after two months exhausting search. The property dealer and owner of the property had asserted me that the area was the safest and the neighbours were 'very nice people.'

Our children were scared and we were worried for them. As we sat there and discussed the situation, again we heard women weeping, and the guy's mouth was pouring a flood of curses. This squabble did not let us to sleep all the night.

The next morning we discussed and considered whether we should live there or not after we sent our two children to school. My wife advised that we must find another home immediately. I decided to call the owner of the property but there was a knock at the door at the same time.

As I opened the door, there was standing a young and good-looking boy. He shook his hands with me and said politely, 'I am sorry sir, I am your neighbour'.

I did not say anything as I was still confused and did not know what to say. Indeed he was from that house which my wife described as a battle field. He continued, 'Sir, I am very sorry that you were disturbed yesterday. My elder brother is not mentally okay. He was quarrelling with our father'

'Ohhhh' I was able to say, 'Was that man your father?'

'Yes, sir'

'And the bearded guy is your elder brother?'

'Of course, sir'

'If he not mentally okay, then why don't you admit him to a hospital?'

'We can't sir. He thinks that he is okay'

'Does he think that beating his own father is okay?'

'He has ousted our two married brothers from this home and made our lives miserable too but we have now got used to it'

'But we don't want to be used to it. We are leaving this home as soon as possible'

'That is to you, sir. I can't help. I am just sorry for the trouble'.

This behaviour gripped my mind the whole day. I could not phone the owner of the house due to the tension.

Errhh

I dont like Violence or anger or hurt

Someone once told me to write only on positive things

ok you abhor violence huh?

its all about rants

let out some of those pent up emm

rage, anger, frustaration of peoples habit

only four of them would walk out of that room

alive,information that wasnt lost to anyone on that table

lets play russian roulette

the five men, sworn enemies from different cliques

each had accounted for blood from the other

the 9 rounds pistol tagged the shylock menacing

is directly centered, each man knew the rules blink and you die

refuse and your familia is wiped out, backing out is not an option

and good fortune shy's away from men like this

9 holes , 5 enemies , one bullet

crazy ass day

i woke up this morn to a heavy shower(people in lagos would attest to this)

smiled to my self and for the millionth time was greatful i dint work regular hours

this rain continued for like 4 more hours and it started getting on my nerves then

i had to go out to grab a bite, planned doing my laundry and that was gonna happen.

rain stopped i got to eat and by 3 0 clock i set out for work, now i work somewhere off mile 2, i reckoned by this time the holdup common to that area would have subsided

here i was driving and listening to tupac's hell razor on repeat with no care in the world

or should i go like no care in the world till i reached coker express(somewhere after cele bustop)
to meet the mother of all holdups, it was frustrating but not unusual,so i proceeded at a meter every 10mins for the next 30mins

trust lagos in a place like that,you must hear sirens sha,so this loud blaring thang starts making way from the back in their usual reckless fashion, a peek at the rearveiw reveals this rugged looking 504 painted white and blue obviously an ambulance.

ok here i was the holdup getting to me and noise blaring , but hey you gotta respect the dead,dying, or the getting rescued so i try to make way out of none, the car levels up and what do i see the passenger smoking and laughing at something the driver was saying , this dudes were obviously having fun at our expense and under the guise of an emergence

well bottom line my bodi no take am i moved to block, retaining back me space , only for the guys to start revving up, me just ignored them, next thing gbam!

my bumper was reaped off , by the stupid metal guards
wielded on the bumper of the car,to make matters worse the idiots wanted to start driving off, trust me, took less than a second was outta of the car and jerked the cigar smoking dude out through the window,

omo i feel say na only me frustrate for lagos , but before i could touch the guym, some other guy at the scene landed the guy slaps, driver wanted to talk wham!, but, wham,! we are sorry wham!, what did we do, wham!,

omo my hands weak, i dint even get to touch this guys, by the time people realised there was no one injured in the vehicle wahala for them oo

i ended up having a laugh ,,,,,,threw in a couple of slaps (on the low of cause) and still have a bumper off

now am on my desk, realising the slaps cant fix my bumper and i dint dish enough to get mental satisfaction

next siren blaring mofo that crosses my path ooo, whether bullion van,fayose, tinunbu, david mark, obasanjo, yaradua ofr the GOC, me i must revenge oo

ok

real life beckoned

so i see, no one has had the urge to rant

all that pent up anger fit kill ooo

, lemmie go see whats happening elsewhere

a minute please

my resignation


i walk up with an arrogant gait towards him

the scorn in his face is evident,'my friend where are you going to'

he asks, me sha just pretended as if i couldn't hear him,

mr -------- would you go back to your work station now!

if it was a dog backing or a goat bleating, i acted unperturbed

the whole office had gone silent by now,waiting for the showdown

you this un serious,silly human being i would make sure you get fired for----BANG!

a perfect connect to his jaw,and for good measure i confirmed with another,then another

till it became a flurry of fists

ariblaze, ariblaze chill chill chill

were words my ears heard but my brain couldn't register

when i was satisfied, i pulled up, and told him ever so politely[b] i quit[/b]

straightened my shirt ,walk out of the office

closing the door to that chapter of my life and the resounding applause that had started out in the room

Seeing too many violent films is very detrimental!!!

I suggest u quit watchin such and start watchin berra stuffz!!

what makes you certain my last post was

my imagination at work?

girl we dont all act out movies oo

THE MOURN

am not bereaved,atleast not by the way of losing a loved one,but yet again i have lost someone,someone i would

have wanted to spend the rest of my life with,i so loved her

its being 15hours 19 mins since this loss and i find the song 'aint no sunshine when she is gone '

re-echoing within me,yes i mourn and yes i cry, does that make me less a man(frankly i care less) i have only loved

twice.thats if i can call the ist one love.before her the thought of marriage was laughable,when she came i dreamt of it everyday

------->2boys ,a girl------->house by the beach with pine tress around, a bike or two to terrorize her and the

neighborhood with and her voice to wake up to.it was connection so lovely because it wasn't planned for,it just

sprung a life of its own , spent a small fortune on calls and texts and so did she, she always said she feared the

'storm' might break us. it dint, we broke ourselves.set in certain ways , me in love and ready to scream from the

rooftops, whilst she the more cautious approach.a simple did you miss me? and the corresponding answer or

non-answer broke us up.i mourn and i bleed, funny if am right about how she feels, she would be in-mourning

too,so why couldn't she just say it? and if am wrong, then God just saved me from a loveless union(even though i

don't appreciate it)

i so want to blame her but i can't,am just tired,spent,emotionally screwed,irritable drained,sober and down


i am not asking for rejoinders, i am just writting this as a form of release----i doubt i can or would love another

temmy why?

yes love can be a bitch


emmanuel
ist august 2008

i just don't get it

why would a woman let a good man good?

ok i got that above phrase from a movie[i] why did i get married[/i]


but you get the gist sha?

why?

i am sitting at my desk totally unproductive,asking meself that question over and over again

why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why?

can someone please tell me why?

life is short

love makes it worth the while

makes the days less painfull, makes the nights less cold

makes your heart thud faster

and makes this life more bearable

yes i would love her again and again

the 3rd mayhem bridge

5:15am
dashed down the stairs

laptop perched in the crock of my arm

multipurpose bag slung on the shoulder.

house keys? check, car keys? check,jacket? check,

bread? yeah checked am biting into it now.

quick cleaning of my windshields to ensure maximum vision

little' care for wiping down the car, start engine, tune up music

, tupac's hell razor [/i]starts booming in, set car into reverse and am off

fast forward., entry 3rd mayhem bridge oworonshoki axis

2nd stick of cigarette and crawling at snail's speed towards the mayhem bridge

paapooon paapooon paapooon, cuts through on [i]my only God can judge me now [/i]track

this siren blaring wannabes,again don't they know the bridge is partial blocked , and we the other road users can't very well fly

by the time the sound got behind me, i was already seething and thus gave the gesture 'fly' and continued on my merry drive

after a couple of rebuffed attempts to overtake moi, and on realizing i wasn't going to bug, the car swung left rather too forcefully or in anger

gbam!followed by brakes squealing, tires screeching and horns blaring ::::time 6:10am:::::

incident: the assistant commissioner for police's entourage ran into the staff vehicle conveying the commandant 82 division Nigerian army enugu

ripple effects from the initial collision, 30cars damaged, 3shots fired and traffic buildup as far as the tollgate


effect on me: smoked the 3rd stick , listened to '[i]me and my gungirlfriend' by amaru shakur,as am parked in front of the office

Burn out



its being ages, (yeah i know, who cares)

i have being too mad busy to rant(imagine too much work to do, i no fit vex)

aint that something?

am too freaking tired, to abuse or scream at my gate man(ok the compound's gate man)

after he got scratched my paint job whilst opening the gate

or even my colleague who thinks he is smart by passing on most of his work on the sly to me

or even my girlfriend who writes a disclaimer on every single text message she sends,since she feels

my sense of humor is either dead or gone sabbatical/awol

too freaking tired to argue with aunty when she gets going on her lectures about what a man my age should be focused on

i am getting even too tired to SMOKE! now this is very scary

can't remember ever ever ever stopping for a day before in the last 15years

now am getting too tired to write, e go be

Hmmm rants. I like, I like

madam its good to know you like it

but dont just like it, add to it

someone somewhere has to make you

want to scream,or pull your hair out

let it all out here, its safe and actually the recommended way to vent

It's best some of my thoughts remain bottled up

not healthy i tells yah

Nothing dey happen

ok oooo

thats the same thing

the mobile police man at ,

said to his wife 5days before he 'accidentally discharged his 'LAR' and killed an innocent clueless soul

i dont mean to say you would the same, but then again it doesnt always have to be with a rifle

I can't believe you just said that.