Havoc Pt. 1 – Finding the Truth

Marley squatted upon a cliff and gazed down on the city, which lay below him. It was a grey city full of cement buildings and concrete walkways. An uninspiring sight for him, other than the dashes of color spread throughout the faces of its inhabitants.

Since he was a child, the only thing he ever heard was ‘the city works for the people. It is the greatest place on earth’. It always made him wonder: ‘what made it so great?’ No one could ever give him a clear answer. The conversation always seemed to land on the topic of opportunity.

‘There’s no place like it. Here, we are free to follow our passions and our true calling.’ His friend Maega would always say.

Maega’s answer always made the most sense to him. After all, he was free to walk the streets whenever he pleased and pursue any opportunity he chose. However, the truth in her statement had a dark cloud hanging over it.

That cloud shed its shadow on the same freedoms, which everyone seemed to hold so dear. Yet so few could see the darkness that surrounded them.

Rain pelted Marley’s black hoodie. It soaked up the weight from the water and it piled on his shoulders. However, despite his drenched hoodie, shorts, and mud soaked feet, his gaze did not lose focus on his city.

He waited for hours, and hoped he could make sense of the events that had caused him to climb to the heights of the cliff. However, the more he thought, the more the answers escaped him.

The day sunk into the night and the clouds dissipated.  He made his way to the base of the cliff under the watchful eyes of the stars. His mind still racing, unaware of the future in front of him.

 Hours earlier, Marley found himself walking through the mall. Newly freed from the tedious trudge of retail life.

A jubilant spark raced through his heart, now that he had been freed from the time clock. The moment of elation faded behind the voice in head, which inflicted him with dread.

‘Now that you are free. How are you going to pay off all those bills? And don’t forget about that debt. That money you made today isn’t yours.’

Marley tried to shake the nuisance from his head, but it persisted. He unlocked his phone and sifted through the web to find some distraction only to be confronted with news of nuclear weapons, the threat of hate groups, natural disasters, and the notion that everything on the internet is a ‘must have’ or ‘best of its kind.’

T.V. pundits raged against each other on every screen he passed. They battled with their words and shaped their arguments in the most convincing ways. Each spoke as if their words were the truest blend of intellect and fact; even when the facts had little in common with the words being spoke.

It had been 5 years since Marley started working in the mall, and he never could get used to the waves of noise. Day by day they culminated into a perfect storm of distraction that left his mind embattled and his senses numb. The radius of the storm stretched city wide and there seemed to be few safe havens for silence.

He shook his head and shrugged. Realizing he was witness to the tug of war, which muddied the language and hungered for the attention of the comfortable masses.

However, even with the scatter gun of nonsense that surrounded his every sense he could not be weighed down by it all. For he did have the freedom to do something about it all. But what?

‘Excuse me, Marley.’ A voice said from behind.

He turned to see the source.


A woman stood in front of him. Her dreadlocks bound atop her head and flowed over her shoulders. She wore a flowing dress with blue and black African print. A subtle smile spread across her face.

‘I’ve been looking for you.’

If Marley’s thoughts swarmed before, now his mind was bombarded with questions.


The woman laughed nervously and held her hand out.

‘Sorry, that must sound strange. My name is Chibuzo. They call me Chi.’

Chi’s introduction did little to halt his curiosity.

‘Hi, they call me Marley. But somehow you knew that.’

‘Yeah, I know. It’s a bit of a long story. But for now, I just wanted to give you something. A gift.’

Chi reached into the purse slung across her shoulder. It took some time for her to sift through it and find what she was looking for.

‘Sorry. There’s a lot of crap in here.’

Marley nodded and lifted his eyebrows in confusion.

Finally, she pulled out a pen. It had no special qualities, other than that it had no brand stuck to it. Chi took a deep breath and presented it to him.

‘This is for you.’

‘It’s a pen.’

‘Yes, but it’s a little more than that.’

Marley chuckled and took the pen. He turned it in between his thumb and index finger, squinting to find the catch.

‘I’m confused.’

‘I knew I should have wrapped it. Damn. They just told me to keep it safe for you, and I keep everything important in my purse.’

‘Who’s they?’

‘Like I said. It’s a long story, but we’ll get to that part. For now, just take that, and I’ll be in touch.’


‘Sorry, I have to go now. But, I’ll be in touch.’

Chi smiled and made her way through a side exit of the mall.  Marley stood alone as the shoppers marched by him on both sides, and the endless blare from all the speakers banged out the top 20 billboards songs.

‘Oh, Marley!’ Chi stuck her head out from the exit door. ‘That pen. You’ll us it to change the world someday. For the better of course!’ Chi grinned and disappeared behind the door.

Marley lay in his bed and examined the pen Chi had given him. He spun it in his fingertips and tried to focus his consciousness to understand the events of the encounter. However, the answers never manifested.

The bass from hip-hop beats banged out of the speaker, which lay on his desk. The passion in Kendrick Lamar’s renegade flow jumped out of the speaker and fluttered the pages of the books lined on the shelf.

Marley had always considered himself a thinker. Although he never thought of himself as a smart man. Most likely because his teacher never assigned him the label.

His quiet demeanor and shy tendencies allowed for his ideas to remain isolated mysteries within his mind. And he appreciated the quiet it provided him in life.

However, now it seemed as if someone had reached a part of his mind and dropped off a mystery of their own.  It had been some time since he had written anything.

After an hour of deliberation met with confusion, he leaped off his bed and pulled out a crate resting on the bottom rung of the book shelf.  The authors gazed down on him as he dug through it.

An old dusty journal emerged from the bottom of the crate, caked in dust. With one blow, the evidence of a time passed spun into the air.

Marley waved his hand to keep the dust away with little success. It crept up his nose and he conceived a sensation of being covered with the grey matter. His mind went down path the would end up with a  warm shower.

He let the thought fade to the back of his mind and opened the journal. Line after line, and page after page soaked in blue and black ink. A shudder crept up his spine at the notion of reading his old thoughts. So, he flipped through the pages until he came across a blank one.

Before the pen tip touched the page, he glanced at it one last time and Chi’s smiling face crossed his mind.

He wrote:

Hemingway’s vibrant sun rose over my head as I plunged into the binding of my memories. The Souls of Black Folks whispered into my mind, as if my ancestors watched over my every move. Even further back, their ancestors spoke to them written in the words of Harari’s pen. The Gospel lead them from dark times, as it had allowed me to cope with the stresses of a past time. Until the change came, and the light of Islam coaxed me to lead a different path; so similar, yet so different. Marvelous superheroes peaked out from their boxes to watch these words being manifested. Still the questions remain.

Chi. Who are you? And why have you given me something so ordinary in such an extra-ordinary fashion? Have you trapped me in a riddle? The power of ideas. I have written with your gift, but still no answer. But I can’t help but feel like a desert parched by the sun that is graced with the first drop of rain from an engorged thunderstorm.

I suppose some would see the rain as sadness, but not a hungry soul like mine. 

Droplets of rain trickled on the window pain. A calm fell over Marley as he stared outside and cool simmered in his skin.

He smiled and without hesitation shut the journal, and pulled a black hoodie from the closet.


The Edge Pt. 1 – Whispers

              Eniten sat atop mount Akpofure, the highest point in the land.  The seas horizon met his eye, as its waters danced with the beach’s sands.  An ocean of green trees lay at the base of the mount.

            That day the winds caressed his skin and the sunlight warmed his bones.  Red dirt snuggled between his toes, and cushioned his soles.  He sat upon a stone with his back to the valley.

            Hours past and his focus never shifted. His eyes breathed in the nourishment of all that surrounded him. However, his mind traveled farther. 

            Eniten was not like any other person of the land. He often found himself in isolation, pondering the reality of life while others lived it.  It was always a curious thing to him that he could not enjoy and revel in the things everyone else did. 

            He found his purpose in the quandaries that few others chose to seek. This path had taken him many places. His soles touched the ground from the Kingdom of Zimbabwe to the Mali Empire. 

            He conversed with Kings, questioned chiefs, and lived among the people.  However, no one could give him the answers his soul yearned for.  Although through his travels, he did hear many stories and witnessed many more. 

            The time came when the questions of life overwhelmed his mind. So, he found himself in a still place for once in his life. 

            He sat upon many mountaintops and beside towering waterfalls. He watched the creatures of the land move about the savannah. 

            One night, he sat by his campfire and stared at the multitude of stars sprinkle the sky.  A silence fell over him, and a single voice spoke. 


            The words were curious, yet a sense of deep seated truth sprang up in his heart.

            ‘Speak.’ The voice echoed its second command. 

            Again, a sense of purpose bloomed in his heart.  However, never having written before, he did not know where to begin.

            Eniten let the words sit in his mind for many sunrises and sunsets. Until one day, his spirit called on him to hike to western cost of the land. There he climbed mount Akpofure. That is where he closed his eyes and saw it.

       Eniten shut his eyes and peered into the light of his thoughts. Darkness surrounded him, but the landscape was clear. He had visited this place many times. 

            A subtle kaleidoscope of colors glistened in the distance. So subtle was their twinkling that one not used to this place would only see shadows. 

            The words that rang in his mind by the campire stood at the forefront of his thought. He peered deeper into his thought and tried to make something of the elements swarming his senses. That is when it happened. 

            The world around him faded and it took him seconds to realize where he stood. He was staring at the edge of time. A space yet to be realized by many. 

            He looked down as he dangled above the endless realm of space and time. A rush of fear shivered up his spine. For he feared that he could plummet into the abyss at any moment. 

            Minutes passed and he realized that he had yet to fall into the void. Something outside of himself had been keeping him afloat. An overwhelming sting of gratitude clutched his heart, and a tear spilled from his eye. 

            However, as that gratitude poured out he noticed a rustling in the distance.  A warp spun against the canvas of the kaleidoscope. Again, he floated deeper into the depths of space.

            As he neared the anomaly, the whales of crying women and children blew like the wind across his face. Greedy snickers and jeers clamored for the whispers of rage and sadness, which followed.

            Then came the rattling of chains clanging against wood. The ocean roared against his mind, drowned out by the buzz from a marketplace. 

            Crack! The shriek of whips snapped and the metal tinge of blood stung his nose. 

            Click. Clack. Bang!

            A chorus of metal grinded and smashed against each other. A blur swarmed in Eniten’s vision.

            When his vision cleared, a few shrouded figures hovered in front of him. Their ashen faces glared at him from the shrouds of space.  Their mouths moved, but not a single sound emerged. 

            As they spoke, the color on their faces changed. First ashen white, then dark brown, then pitch black, and they continued to shift through all the colors of the spectrum. 

            Although they had faces, not a single sense of life emitted from their being. Rather, the pungent stench of death rippled around them. 

            Eniten sensed no good from these figures and tried with all his might to halt his drift. However, the current had a hold of him. As he drifted closer, the figures ashen hands clawed towards him. 

            His heart thudded against his chest and he tried desperately to flee, certain of his doom. However, when the hands became inches from him, he lifted his hands and a wall of blue flames ripped through the canvass of space. 

            The shrouds holding the figures caught fire and they whaled in agony. Each of them spread out and fled the flames. 

            The wall of fire crackled and swirled in front of Eniten. He glared at it in awe and once again a sense of graciousness poured into his heart.

            A script carved itself into the wall. A script that he had never seen before. And even though he had never seen it before, the words rang in his mind as clear as ever. 

            Eniten opened his eyes to rain, which pelted the land. The event still emblazoned in his thoughts. He took to the dirt and ran his fingers through it.

            The rain pounded divots into the script, erasing every word as he wrote it. This did not frustrate him, for the images lay on his mind as if it were still occurring. 

            Eniten climbed down to the valley. As soon as his feet touched the grass, the rain ceased and the sun peaked out from the rumbling clouds. He glanced up to receive the grace of the rays. 

            The sounds of footsteps tickled the air in a constant rhythm. Eniten lowered his gaze to see who approached. 

            Chikere sprinted, riding the earth with swiftness. Her face plain and her gaze focused. She peddled to a stop, and stood face to face with Eniten.

            ‘I see you have not stopped running through time Chikere.’

            Chikere nodded and smiled as only a royal messenger could after stomping the ground for miles. Cow hide strapped to her feet and she wore a woven camel hide dress, short enough to allow her sprint through the land. 

            ‘And you are off in your visions as usual.’

            ‘I assure you Chikere, the visions are not mine.’ 

            Chikere nodded again.

            ‘And the winds that carry me are not mine.’

            The two laughed and greeted each other with a hug. 

            ‘I find it fortunate that we would cross paths in this moment of time my friend.’

            ‘Why is that?’

            ‘As you say, I have indeed had visions. This one like no other that I have seen before. A true message.’

            ‘I know something of messages. You have a favor to ask.’ Chikere smirked.

            ‘Truly. However, I fear this favor is a burden and carries with it much weight.’

            Chikere held out her hand and waved her fingers, requesting the message without hesitation.

            ‘I’m afraid that message will take some time to explain.’

            ‘Then from one traveler to another, my favor to ask of you is your company in my travels to Mali.’ 

            Eniten smirked and nodded his head.

So the journey began through the valley towards the Malian Empire.    







The vastness of life is beyond sight

Is it possible for us, not to differ from one another?

Our differences are proof of life beyond our own

And our unity is proof of understanding

             A couple weeks ago, one of my best friends called me a weirdo.  He’s been my friend since middle school, so I’ve heard him call me everything you can think of.  However, when he said weirdo, there was not a drop of mockery in it.  Through all our experiences (shared and separate) we have come to the unspoken understanding that our friendship is one of growth, and void of non-sense.  In the spiritual sense, A True Brother. 

              He may have called me a weirdo, but what he meant was: “you think Different”.  I embraced the message as he meant it, a compliment.  My body got that pulse one gets when they feel pride surge through their being; I had to quickly humble myself.  I reminded myself that my mind is a gift given to me, and I must protect and cultivate it to the best of my ability.  It’s being is not because of me.  So, I took the compliment and stored it in my mind for further review.

              When I was a kid, his words may have struck me as a negative, because I’m sure his meaning would have been a jab at my sensitive idea of self.  The more I look at it, the more I realize that I have always been different- As are many of you.  Even when I was a kid, I never quite fit in with the people around me.  Either my skin color was different, and I was reminded of it, or my experiences were different.  These things never dwelled on my consciousness for too long, and I made the most of my time getting along with people.  I was never ashamed of being different; lonely at times, but never ashamed.  There was always something I could have shared that may have helped someone else, or something they could have shared with me to help me on my journey through life.  However, the largest obstacle was fear. 

              While I was never ashamed of being different, fear bubbled in my heart since a young age.  The imagination is wonderful and terrifying place for people who build a life there.  One can do everything and nothing at the same time.  When the real world collides with the universe the imagination has built, that sense of fear arises.  That fear, often bottled up my words and kept the world at great distances.  So, any knowledge I could have shared often went unheard.  Likewise, any help I could have asked for never manifested itself into a question.  At some point, I realized that imagination and reality are a tandem, and fear is to be challenged, if one is to grow.  For beyond fear lies truth.   

              I hope you find compliments in how different you all are from each other, and share those differences; that we all may grow.  I hope that beyond the fear of differences, we can all see the unity in understanding.  There is nothing weird about that. 

Zoom Out


it puts a smile on ones face when they find a piece; a true joy in truth. 

There’s something which rests underneath everyday life.  The pattern does not always appear complete, but it puts a smile on ones face when they find a piece; a true joy in truth. They are not always grand when presented to the naked eye and I wonder what the entirety of it means.  Someday, it will reveal itself.  That day, the picture will be great.  

Here’s to the journey…  

Day II

Future in hand, our Dream is the evidence

…We stand on the Horizon of life, peering out

    past fades behind the Present

Future in hand, our Dream is the evidence

    Manifested through actions of Our Presence 

Everyday filled with Divine intervention.

    This is Day II, Ambition padded with Lessons 

Questions curl the comforted back to the Sunrise

    Our comfort been left, We’re seeking the Sunset

Only to outrun the Sun, we don’t race with the rats

    We search for Destiny, that’s what it says on the hat…


I too am in need of repair.   

How, truthfully, can I look at the world around me and not see the need for my own repair? This is a question, which I seek an answer for.

Let any person who boasts themselves to be perfection personified or the next best thing, know that in the world of “normal” that makes them average; far from perfection.

Don’t look down on those you are eye level with.

I too, am far from perfection and confidently so.  The cracks in my being are evident to my mind, body, and soul.  I do not run from these things in fear.  Rather, my fear runs from my acknowledgement and my doubt follows after.  It is not an easy thing to battle oneself, and so we are exhausted in our imperfection.  Yet, where I am weak, my guidance is strong [In Faith, Friends, Family].

Vices, a whirlpool of destruction; dramatic words.  However, the words only reflects a fraction of the consequences of the cycles.  We have been in it for so long that those things which mean to cause us harm become normal.  So we act normally, we speak normally, we think normally.  The weight of normal binds our limbs in guilt and confusion.  Rage and sadness are the result.

“How do I break from the sadness and confusion?”  Is the suffering question.

I too am imperfect, so I only know this:

“Ask yourself the difficult questions, and be prepared to answer them.  Truthfully.  Then find understanding and evolve.”

I too am in need of repair.


Questions 4 The Age

When your life becomes silent…Ponder

Words spoken and worlds misunderstood

The Earth stood still of peace and madness swooned

The Peoples ears tweaked to the sound

Brothers forgot the names of their sisters

Mothers forgot their children, and feared their presence

Fathers raged and tore through the land in search of answers



-Do We Use Our Beauty To Corrupt Each Others Innocence?


-Is A Word, Which Spreads Confusion Amongst Family, Worth Saying?


-If You Heard It, Would You Know It?  If you Did, Would You Accept It?


-Is This The Most Dishonest Description Of  A Person?


-Do We Understand It When We Live It?…



Patience is what allows them to endure; a sweet suffering. 

Manifest reality through action.

We stand on the edge of life, blind to the paths which lay before us.  We see fear in the darkness when we have no faith.  Right now, we are in the dark and only those with faith can understand.

The faithful.  These are the fearless ones and the righteous.

The negative of the faithful, also harness a fearless grit.  However, they only have faith in themselves.  They rise to prosperity and plummet shortly after; their life is like the jagged edges of a knife.  Their purpose, to sever understanding.

The faithful march forward, against the darkness, in courage.  Their being, focused on something higher than themselves.

Darkness turns to light.  Now they see how shallow the old life was.

Patience is what allows them to endure; a sweet suffering.  Then, when the clear message arrives, they act.  Thus manifesting reality through their truth, and passing on the knowledge to those in need.

Who are the righteous who see the signs?


Rather Be Free


%d bloggers like this: