The Dealer

I worked at an urban clothing store in downtown Detroit It was called The Hub One time this large black fellow came in browsing He was a regular customer He mostly bought merchandise off of the clearance section and did not look like much of a spender but this time it was different he came in and started looking at the Red Monkey jeans that were $500 a pair I plainly eyed him in pity thinking that his ability to buy such merchandise was a mere fable He degradingly hollered at me
Hey you there how much is deeze Red Monkey jeans
I took him for an idiot for the price tag was clearly visible in front of him and it was clear that he was trying to be ostentatious seeming like he is able to afford the merchandise Regardless I hypocritically and dramatically approached him and held out the tag on the jeans and said that they were five hundred dollar jeans and suggested a cheaper pair of jeans
What ***** you don’t think I can afford dis ****
No I just figured you were browsing and I was just showing you a variety of what we have
I got money *****
He reached into his pocket and took out a rubberbanded stack of one hundred dollar bills I was flabbergasted I quietly reached for a pair of jeans and smiled at him
Smartass ***** Better watch yo mouth next time
Sorry about that What else can I get for you I said
I need a fur coat fool Shukrie told me that yall sell dim I wuz here last week and I aksed him for one he told me that he was gonna order me one
I wondered how he knew about the fur coats and why Shukrie told him that we have them in stock if he knew that the moron was broke most of the time then again I had not been at work for the past week I took a break for I had the flu At any rate I decided to go along with the pretender
What color are you looking for We have brown and black and there is a white one
I don know Why don’t you take me to da back’ n show me what you got
I grew apprehensive I had no idea what Shukrie was doing He must’ve been insane to tell this man that our fur and mink coats were in the storage room unless he wanted to get robbed I took the flamboyant fool to the back to show him our collection well not exactly a collection we only had four coats left two brown ones and a black and a white He practically hallucinated over one of the brown ones which was entirely brown except it had a thick brown collar blotted with white fur The cuffs of the coat were of the same fashion it was a $ 3000 mink coat The other coats were solid in color although they were thicker and appeared to have a finer texture
How much is dat he said pointing toward the white-blotted coat
It’s three thousand dollars man
He tried it on and I thought that he looked ridiculous He however was jovial and content with his drastic appearance
Okay I’ll take it seal it up fo me
Yes sir I said with a meek smirk on my face that he was ignorant to display his instantaneous wealth it would raise suspicion No one can get that wealthy in such a short period of time
I thought that a man in fur looked absolutely absurd I took thirty-five hundred dollars from him in hard cash No tax In my entire days working on that job I have never seen somebody pay that much money in cash And what was even more shocking is that it came from a cretin like this I folded the cash then bound it with one of the rubberbands around my wrist I was eager to learn how he came up with such an amount of money in such a short span of time so before he went out I asked bluntly
How the hell did you come up with that much money I took you for a broke scoundrel
I don know what dat mean he said but I started trappin and beniss is a boomin
What the hell is trappin
I sell dope ***** I bake dat **** n’ sell it on da streets and dem White niggas is desperate for some good caine he gleamed
I was aware of the fact that some of the store’s wealthy customers were drug dealers but I have never seen someone rise so quickly most of the other customers never spent more than a thousand on a couple of outfits but this incredulous fool surely set a new record
I want to trap too How can I do that I asked
You wanna trap eh Aight I tell you how I jus hope you aint no snitch snitches die like a ***** Wait for me outside da mall at nine I come pick you up
Alright I’ll wait for you
He took his merchandise and left the store like a boisterous peacock By nine o’clock and when the sun was setting in the middle of a May that shall live in infamy he rolled in his neon green Cadillac with the stereo blasting vulgar and profane music that I abhorred the same music that Shukrie played in the store to delight the customer’s shopping experience the dealer wore Rasta braids that crawled onto his back and the vehicle smelled of perfuse marijuana
Your car smells like weed man
Yea Purple-haze my ***** That ****’s the best weed in town I’ll give you some when we get to my crib
Okay never tried that specimen before
Quit using dim big words dawg Anyway I can tell you is new to dis beniss
Yea man I need to make some good money that ten to nine that I’m working doesn’t make ****
We pulled up to a large white two-story house and the backyard had two pit-bulls vulgarly barking at us like some new prey There were three black girls playing jump-rope at the frontyard they seemed to be the man’s children The Cadillac parked into a spacious parkway We got out and my body shivered to the beep of the car alarm and lock of the car doors
Aight dawg Thas it thas my house Big-*** crib huh
I got into the house and it had a very gaudy and austere interior he had leather LaZ Boy couches and chairs and a magnanimous Sony flat screen television as big as three full-sized football players placed together I thought that he was an idiot for displaying his instantaneous wealth but I’m sure that the authorities had their eyes on him He took me to his kitchen that was spotless clean except for a counter that was contaminated with white dust I thought that must have been where he cooked his cocaine and methamphetamine
He elaborately showed me how to cook the drugs the portions the ratios most of which was by eye-balling I keenly watched and listened It was like my college chemistry course except the professor didn’t know any scientific definitions or equations Ghetto schooling He gave me two packs of cocaine and a stack of twenties a thousand dollars and showed me his selling district on the city map the delinquent kept on surprising me with odd coincidences and he told me that he gets forty percent of my revenue and I agreed
Dis is to get ya started Take it I betta not catch ya on my sellin district If I do I’ll cap yo *** Now take a hit of dis ****
I aint snorting no coac man
He took out a Glock-45 out of a scabbard on his side and pointed it to my head frowned and yelled again
Take the hit fool
I assorted the cocaine with the razorblade as I saw Travolta assort the heroine on Pulp Fiction and I snorted the powder First I felt like sneezing My brain grew foggy and clouded and I began to feel dizzy began to have doubled-vision I held my nose and strongly inhaled and my eyes began to tear up and my eyes’ vessels bulged and reddened
What the hell is this man I exhaled
Hahaha I knew dis would’ appen to you You got’ ta know how it feel It’s an incentive fo you ta sell dat **** he said
Incentive I thought it was a big word for an ignoramus to use At any rate I started trapping as he would say and the money started to pile-up but I did not show it I still lived in the same one room apartment that I have although my appearance drastically changed for the better I believe I started wearing Armani Versace Ralph Lauren and other designer wear that I hadn’t wore before I started wearing vintage suits to work but Shukrie told me to stay casual to help endorse the store’s merchandise He commented to me about my expensive taste in clothing hinting to the fact that I don’t make enough to be clothed in such garments but I corked his lips when I told him that I started investing my money in stock although I knew that he wouldn’t believe me but that’s okay he had his own mischievousness
I was making good money selling cocaine and meth to poor desperate folks but the forty percent that I had to fork-over to the dealer began to give me an itch and I needed to launder my money to not appear suspicious so I opened a small Italian restaurant in New York City That I visited New York to manage every three months and I did start investing my money into the stock market as I tried to slowly traverse from selling drugs However having to give out this forty percent out of the hard earned clean money that I make began to aggravate me I left Detroit to go to Atlanta Georgia A big city A new start
I was done with selling cocaine meth and marijuana after mainly my succession on the stock market and having the restaurant to manage on the side was a good excuse for me to visit New York often I made my last drug sale on June of 2012 for a hundred thousand dollars I told the dealer that that was my last operation and that I was done with selling dope I gave him his forty-thousand and told him to leave me the hell alone He said that he wanted fifty percent since this was my last job as a debt I owed him for schooling me
Go to hell I told him over the phone something that I came to regret after it was too late It appeared that I have made the dealer furious and gravely he had his connections in Atlanta
I was on my way out of the piano lesson from my Jewish mentor Benyamin Goldman one of the best music mentors in the country I was ambushed in front of his apartment by the black mafia apparently Benyamin tipped the dealer about my apprenticeship after being threatened about kidnapping his granddaughter Just as I blossomed into a businessman the dealer rose from being a meager clearance-rack shopping twit to a seasoned gangster
I was shot-down by mini semiautomatic machineguns I fell unto my knees and started gurgling blood I laid in my Armani suit on the concrete when my white Versace button-down started to turn red from the abdomen I started breathing quickly and coughing blood The last C sharp that I played still lingered in my ear but then I heard The Cadillacs vanish into the large metropolis and my unvindicated soul started to chase after them searching for a vendetta….

Sherif Mohamed 2016

Very elaborate and sentimental. Great job.

Beautiful literature man. You have a lot of posts! I'm just getting started. Thank you for sharing your talent :)

Thanks Marie!

Thank you so much for your compliment Kimpey, but this isn't about me; my writing encompasses many things and many different topics; it's my nature as a writer. There is so much going on in my tiny brain :)

If you have done her wrong with your grievous mistakes, hope is not lost; there might still be a chance. Most women love humble and sincere men that admit their mistakes,and aren't too boastful or arrogant to apologize. I hope this helps:


A Lover’s Regret

Never appreciated you, I did, until you were gone.
You gave me all and I gave you nothing.
I long for you, like a troubled soul longs for dawn.
I do not deserve the holy essence of your being.

You were patient and forgiving, loving and tender;
I long for a glance into your beautifully luminous eyes.
Always generous and warm, you were; never a pretender.
A week is all we had; never enough; bittersweet goodbyes.

I long for a kiss from your sweet lips.
You make me want to be a better man.
I long for your slender waist to hold, which floats and dips.
All I need is to be with you, so meticulously, I dwell and plan.

All I need is one more chance.
I will undo my wrongs and honor our timeless romance.


Authored by myself; Sherif Mohamed 2016

For all men; if you're tired of dating and are ready to tie the knot, let your dear woman read this:

A Lover's Proposal

Thou hast been there for me through the thick and thin.
Thou hast been there with me through the bitter and sweet.
I hold thee dear to my heart, where thou linger’st deep within.
I hold thee high, in the highest of pedestals; an honor without conceit.
Thou hast taken me into thy deep organs and nourished
Mine aching confidence and troubled soul.
Thou hast been patient, compassionate, and thou kindly furnish’d
The landscapes of euphoria to sooth mine null and void hole.
I shalt overcome mine dreary fears and become thine gleaming knight
I shalt repay thine kindness with twinned happiness;
I bestow one upon thine cheerful smile and one to fortune ever-so-bright.
Even if I give the treasures of this world, I still cannot redeem thine kindness.
With this literature, I present my love, and ask thee to be my lovely wedded wife.
And we shalt live happily-ever-after; a life without strife.

Sherif Mohamed 2016

Tears of a Dying Mother

Time drifts away ever so quickly,
And no one cometh to say goodbye.
A son sees a mother old and sickly;
He sees her bedridden, but doesn’t forlorn or cry:
“Young man, if thou hadst the slightest of compassion,
Thou would have never left me to cease,
But cruelty seems to be the latest of fashion,
Of these wicked days of disease.
I’ve raised and grown only to think,
That I would reap what I’ve sown;
But there you are, and I see you drink
From cruelty’s pool; and your true colors have shown.
My fault, it was: I never taught thee how to love;
Alone, I die, leaving behind my wealth, that for you, is never enough.


It's very sad, but this happens a lot here in the United States; whether it's a son or a daughter. I hope things change; I really do.

Sherif Mohamed 2016

William Shakespeare, Sonnet XVIII; this man is the reason I became a poet and a creative writer. No one admired and praised women as perfectly and delicately as he did; this sonnet is proof!


Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed,
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed:
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

Thank you so much for your compliment; it's very encouraging. By the way, you have beautiful blue eyes :)

If he or she coldly and bitterly broke your tender heart, let them read this:

Mourning Quill

You speak of love, yet you do not know
How to love or care in the deepest of your dismal bosom;
Still I jade and wade for you to return, yet you are too slow
In your touch and feel for our passion; art thou too numb?
Or art thou too senseless, uncompassionate, or art thou incapacitated?
So let me know, where you stand in our odd gesture,
Of tales untold, nights unslept and dull nerves ever so jaded?
I am willing to forgive, yet I cannot see life lived through your cynical picture.
Will I ever miss you, will I ever regret,
Leaving you behind and letting you become undone?
You were the one that drew the dagger, with a ruthless jest.
I’ve opened many doors to let you in, yet you hoard and run.
I’ve lifted My quill from the worn pages of sorrow and let the ink dry.
I will no longer mourn you. The memory of our love shall restlessly die.

Sherif Mohamed2016

The Yellow Dress

“Today is clear with sunny skies; the highs are at eighty-five and the lows are at seventy-five with slight humidity. Tomorrow is cloudy with sixty-five percent chance of thunderstorms. That’s all for today’s forecast folks,” the Meteorologist said. He turned off the old television-set and finished his beer and put out his cigarette in a glass ashtray. He went outside the trailer into the sunny weather and thought to himself:
You’re a lonely man Ted. You’re a very lonely man…
He left the home and headed for the thrift-store at four. He rarely got out of his home before the afternoon except for Sundays when he went to church. The thrift-store that he went to belonged to the church he attended; he belonged to ‘Christ’s First Baptist Church’. Practically everything he owned he bought from the thrift-store, from furniture to kitchen utensils. He was well known at the store for he wore an awkward mullet and a long mustache. He usually randomly browsed for anything to buy, but he mainly tried to start conversations with random strangers to pass the time. There he met, Joan Peters, who attended his church at the store. He starkly eyed her from a distance while she was shopping for a dress. He tried to friendlily chat with her…
He purchased a red and black plaid button-down and a pair of light blue jeans and a vase and a stainless-steel food-tray and he offered to buy her a chaste long yellow polkadot dress she had picked out; she was hesitant but he insisted and took the chance to ask her if he could spend time with her after church. She agreed and thanked him for the dress….
***
He got out of church at twelve and the sky was cloudy, the clouds dimmed the sun like some vindictive outcast abhorred life; he was one of the last people to leave the church because he stayed behind to seek the Reverend’s advice about a disturbing habit of his; he was addicted to masturbation and pornography:
“I can’t help it,” he said in a miserable tone, “it’s taken a wicked hold of me.”
“That’s alright son, just recite the Lord’s ‘Thou shalt not do lechery’ when you get the urge to do the ill deed and may God be with you,” the Reverend put his hand on the troubled man’s shoulder.
“Thank you Reverend,” he said with a hopeless look of agony on his face.
He left the church and headed towards the emptying parking-lot waiting on his date. He found Joan wearing the humble dress that gracefully covered her right to the ankle; she was known to be a virtuous young lady among the community. He called her out then got into his eighty-five Chevrolet Caprice-Classic and tried to start the ancient hermit. She waited in front of the church and sort of felt sorry for him while he tried to revive his vehicle. The preacher was the last man to see her get into the car with the uneven man and the holy-man was dubious and wanted to warn her after hearing the confession of the afflicted man….
The estranged man lived forty-five minutes away from the church but he took her around the city and they had some iced-cream at a local shop and he bought her some bright yellow flowers; it was her favorite color. She found him slightly awkward but also found a troubled and sensitive man within him. She asked him about his past and parents and he said that they both died when he was eighteen; he was a bit silent when she pressed the wound of his parents’ death:
“So what happened to your Mamma and Daddy? How’d they die, if you don’t mind me askin?” she curiously asked.
“Well, I don’t like to talk about it much, but my Daddy killed her then took his own life,” he said.
“Oh Lord! I’m sorry Teddy,” she apologized.
“That’s alright,” he sighed and started to tear up and his cone started to melt in his hand:
“My Daddy used to drink a lot and Mamma used to always talk about how broke we was. She never picked the right time to talk to him. His drinkin got worse and eventually got him fired from his job and on that day Mamma confronted him about it, and she toldem that he was a good for nothin sorry fool,” he wiped his tears with his clean hand. “My Daddy went inside the bedroom and took-out his revolver and told her that he hated her and shot her straight in the-head; right in front of me. Then he sat down and finished his bottle of Jack then he shot hisself too,” he sniffled, with tears running down his face and moaned like a child….
“It’s alright Teddy; it’s over and done with now; don’t let it get to you. You’re a good man,” she tried comforting him.
They both got into the car and he told her that he would take her home to watch a movie and have some pizza. She was hesitant and tried urging him to take her home but he persisted. He took her to his trailer-home, which was on the outskirts of Mobile, Alabama, with other trailers scattered at a distance. She got out of the car and followed him into the worn trailer. He sat her at a couch in front of the television and went into the kitchen and opened two bottles of Budweiser. He offered her the beer but she apologized and said that she did not drink, so he went back to the kitchen and took out a cold glass bottle of Coca-Cola.
He played Silence of The Lambs on an old VHS set and sat eating the greasy pepperoni pizza. She didn’t eat swine for she thought it was a foul creature and said that Christ did not eat it. She nervously sat on the couch, watching the disturbing film, with both legs tightly closed beneath the long chaste dress, as if sensing something cynical was about to unfold; she started feeling unsteady and foreign and realized that she had made a grave mistake by involving herself with the man….
He lustfully gazed into her hazel eyes and licked his greasy lips. He placed his hand on her lap but she politely removed it:
“What are you doin Ted? I thought you was a God-fearin man; the Lord is watchin us, you know,” she uncomfortably said.
“I really like you Joan. I’ve liked you for so long,” he fiddled with her long blonde hair with the tips of his fingers and started caressing her neck.
“Please stop. I have to go home. Please take me home.”
She shoved his head backwards when he tried kissing her on the neck and shoulders. He attempted to climb over her like some possessed cur, but she fiercely clenched her thumb and index into both of his eyes and he cried out-loud. He slapped her across the face making her splatter blood from her mouth. She screamed and started crying as he began to uncover her long dress, revealing her bashful legs. She snatched the unfinished Coke bottle and smashed it over his head and his forehead started drawing blood:
“You *****!” He yelled.
She helplessly kept resisting and kicking him with her legs and forcefully slapping him on face and chest. She was like an untamed mare searching for freedom; a drowning gazelle clinging onto life. He grew frustrated and gripped the beer bottle in return and bashed her over the head with it; her vision blurred then she fainted….
He uncovered her dress and removed her under garments and unbuttoned her dress from the top revealing her bare breasts, with a small cross hanging from her neck. He undid his trousers and lecherously raped her. She drew a mixture of secretions and blood when he penetrated deeply into her vaginal canal. When the ill-deed was finished he breathlessly lied on the couch next to her with his undone trousers and bare crotch smeared with semen as well as her private and groin….
***
She started coming-to while he was in the kitchen and started breathlessly exhaling in disbelief with tears pouring down her tender cheeks:
“Damn you! Damn you to hell!” she cried in overwhelming shock, then started screaming loud enough for angels and demons to hear her alike:
“Shhh, Shhh, I’m sorry Joan, I really am, I don’t know what came over me,” he bitterly apologized with no avail; she would not desist then he forcefully tried pinning her against the couch, putting his hand over her mouth to silence her but she ferociously and relentlessly resisted….
Unable to subdue her vigorous rebellion he took hold of the vase that he had bought the previous day from the thrift-store and he started pounding over her head with it and pounding until her bare skull was visible and his button-down that he bought on the same day and the same dress he had bought were soaked in blood and covered with bone fragments. Shocked he withdrew himself from on-top of her with his eyes wide-open in clouded stupefaction. He got-up from the couch. Flabbergasted, stood next to the coffee table where their tainted beverages lay, His eyes filled with sour tears:
“O **** … I’m sorry Joan … damned devils possessed me; you’re such a beautiful creature, I never meant to do this. You don’t deserve this … I’m a damned man,” he unfathomed into reality.
***
He went into the bedroom and opened a jammed drawer that had not been opened in ages and took-out a mediocre revolver. He eyed the pistol with a certain cursed wanton and unlatched the barrel and negligently emptied countless bullets from a worn container and depressingly loaded the chamber then drove the cylinder back home then went back to the living-room….
He sat on the couch opposing the one the young virgin was slain upon and pointed the pistol toward his penis and closed his eyes and took a deep breath; he fired; the roaring pistol was deafened by the clap of thunder and the pouring rain. He screamed in agony, as he saw his private and testicles strewn onto his jeans; he loudly cried from the pain, but mostly from self-pity, from remorse and regret. He silently lied on the couch with both legs wide-open and the blood gushing from his crotch….
Realizing that he had come at a crossroads and had to make a fatal decision, he decided to paint his end in purple. He recollected himself and sat upright; forbearing the pain he pointed the pistol to his temple and sadistically said:
“You’re a piece of ****; a damned pervert that ain’t worth livin. Go to hell you sorry son of a ***** …” then he pitifully pulled the trigger with a dull senseless lame expression in his eyes….
His body flung backwards then awkwardly dwindled down the couch onto the floor like some flimsy rag only to wipe the pale white excrements falling from his engraved skull….
***
The Reverend felt uneasy and doubtful seeing the young lady get into the car with the morally disturbed man. He decided to call the police…. The man got the atrocious news of Joan’s murder two hours later and he wasn’t sure how to deliver the grievous news to her parents but all he could do was try to convince the captain, whom he personally knew, and ask him not to dissect the corps of the young lady and for her to be handed-over to the parents for cleansing and burial and the force agreed after retracing the crime trail and reaffirming the solid conviction against the deceased criminal from the evidence….
***
Joan’s funeral was held a week after the murder on a calm and clear Sunday. The sun peacefully gazed upon the brown coffin. All of the mourners wore black and her parents and relatives stood grieving while the Reverend concluded:
“Adam is from dust and unto dust we shall return then we meet our maker on a day of reckoning and mercy alike. May the Lord bless her and have mercy upon her beloved pure soul and welcome her with wide arms into eternal paradise. Amen.”
“Amen,” they all piously prayed.
When the service was complete the mourners slowly left the site, with precious tears on cheeks, each placing their flowers on her coffin in different colors; red and white but mostly yellow….

*R.I.P to all deceased rape victims.

I'm glad you did man; it leads to a lot of problems, like premature ejaculation and difficulty getting an erection.

Thank you ma'am. That's very kind of you.

I've been in a relationship for quite a long bit of time; four years, and she left me recently, after I've truly loved her.

Of an Agonized Lover

You broke my heart and left me there to moan and cry.
You said: it wouldn’t have worked out between us, and must I, get used to it.
I found a crooked seat to carry me, and laid there in denial to agonize and sigh.
Painful hardships made you grieve and say that from any relationships you’ve abstained and quit.
Yet surprisingly, you claimed finding new love, and of a valiant steed ready to tie the knot!
Deceived and manipulated me, you did, to gladly assure my departure with no return.
O! What has changed the sincerely truthful woman I loved, whom I trusted and always sought?
I’ve been horribly scarred in betrayal, and mercilessly left to crash and burn.
But no! Leave you, I won’t. I will anxiously strive to succeed and build myself to become
The man that you’ve never seen before, in front of you, boldly and uprightly standing;
Only to see the tears of pain and regret in those eyes that have made you sore and numb.
I’m willing to forgive and forget, only if back into my arms, your old self can promise returning.
Love is a complicated game that requires wit and patience;
And in this lifetime, unscarred lovers have no existence.

Sherif Mohamed 2016

Addiction is a Terrible Thing

Addiction is a terrible thing.
It comes in so many folds and creases.
It takes strong will and conviction to overcome the temptations.
Some of you simply can’t climb over the fence,
No matter how hard you try,
Which is perfectly understood, but others may ignorantly judge.
Some of you miraculously overcome the sickness;
You don’t know: how or when?
Addiction is a terrible thing.
It eats you up on the inside,
As it pleasures you;
It slithers through your ego and dignity.
You’ll beg, hide, steal, or worse.
God forbid it takes you that far.
There’s a sublime taste to tearing through the cobweb.
Few make it through addiction;
Most crash and burn.
But if you’ve tried for the longest to give it up,
It’s something to be proud of, for you did not easily succumb.
The ones who knew you’ve struggled, will remorse.
Addiction is a terrible thing.
If this has caught you by chance,
Then you can still win the race,
And when you’ve overcome the fiend, you can proudly show some face.

Sherif Mohamed 2016

I hope this helps any addicts out there; whether it's tobacco, marijuana, any deadly drugs, or any other disgustingly repulsive habits and manners.
God help us all.

Beautiful poetry. I won't say much, there is a magazine for creative writers that I submit my works to in order to get published. You can try to buy an issue or two to get an idea of how it works.
Website: http://thesunmagazine.org/

Best of luck my friend,
Sherif Mohamed

Rose petals

We lay under the oak tree in Eldridge Park. We were holding hands. Her long blonde hair was spread along the green grass, creating this whimsical colorful chemistry.
“You know, your beauty really shines in the spring. I mean, you’re beautiful all the time of course, but there is just something special about the spring,” I said.
“Well, maybe because everything is so colorful during that season,” she said.
We heard the voices of children chasing after each other and playing tag. And there was a man that played fetch with his Labrador. There was a group of young men that played soccer beyond the miniature lake.
I was lost in her green eyes. We’d been dating for four years, and I was starting to think about proposing. I’m not sure if she was growing impatient, because she never gave any hints, not that I understood women all that much. I was the blunt type of man that just followed his gut.
She was a kindergarten teacher in Bridge stream elementary school. I worked as a foreman in a carpet mill. There was a huge difference gap between both of our education. She had a bachelor’s in early childhood education, and I just barely made it out of high school, but had plenty of experience in the field that I worked in.
She always talked about her days at school.
“So Justin came up to me today and said ‘I got hit with a baseball in the park yesterday. It really hurts Ms. Gordon,’ so I told him to go to the nurse and ask for an ice pack. Then all of a sudden all of them had a sudden thirst for water. I’m telling you. It was hectic,” she said.
“Aww, that’s so adorable. That age is hard to deal with, but they’re so cute. I can’t wait till we have our own kindergarteners to play with,” I beamed.
She gave me this odd look, as if to say, “Then why haven’t you done anything about it yet?” I grew silent. There wasn’t much to say. I didn’t think that I earned enough money to settle down. Start a family. She gazed into my eyes then said:
“You know, all you have to do is say so and start. I could help.”
“I don’t need a woman to help me stand on my own two feet. I can bring home the bacon on my own.”
“Then why haven’t you done anything? All you did was grouch.”
“I don’t need this. I came out here to have fun and enjoy my day. Please don’t ruin the moment.”
“I’m sorry, it’s just that your mentality is so offensive,” she said.
She ran her hand through my hair and softly kissed me on the lips.
“You and I are one Peter. Me helping you when you need it doesn’t make you any less of a man,” she said.
“I know. My mentality is so perverse. I grew up watching my father doing the same thing.”
We left the park at twilight. The evening stars started glowing and the park’s lights started coming on. The moon was still a crescent, like a toddler in its infancy. I parked my 70’ Dodge truck in the back of the parking lot. It needed to be washed since it rained heavily and the driveway to my trailer grew muddy. Simple man. Simple life.
The following day was a Sunday. I went to the jeweler. She always liked white gold and silver. I picked out a quarter carat silver diamond ring. I paid five hundred dollars for it. It was all I could afford. I went to her apartment that night at twelve in the morning.
“Peter? Are you okay? Why’d you come here so late? Don’t you have work tomorrow?”
“Can I come in?”
“Of course. What’s that in your hand?” she said.
“Roslyn, would you marry me?” I opened the ring case.
“Oh my god! After yesterday? You caught me by surprise.”
“Will you?”
“Of course I would.”
We married on the Wednesday of the following week. When the preacher said, “You may kiss the bride,” I kissed with such passion, as if it were my first kiss. We married in the afternoon. We went home and made love, as if we had never done so before. We took the next week off for our honey moon; although we didn’t go anywhere. She woke me up the next morning and told me, “Peter. I’m pregnant.”
“I never heard better news,” I said.
“You need to come live with me now,” she said.
“Alright. Sounds like a plan. I wear the pants though.”
“You wear the pants...” she sighed.
I got promoted to warehouse supervisor and got a good raise. It gave me some serious thought about finishing my education. She gave birth to a boy and we named him Charles. He looked a lot like his mother. Same green eyes. Same blonde hair. He got his stubbornness from me though. We didn’t have any more children. I didn’t want any. And she agreed.
The boy grew up fast. He was always in gifted classes from an early age and he graduated from high school and got a scholarship to Emory med school. His accomplishments made me feel like I did something with my life. I couldn’t have done it without her. She was the better half on me. She changed a lot of ill-harbored traditional ideas that I’ve collected from my father. I knew she was always right and the boy grew up to be just as bright as her.
She died young. She was fifty three. Charles was twenty three when she died. He fell in love and got married while he was in college. I was able to support him and his wife until they were able to hold their own. I have been at Mohawk for so long, that I’ve become the general manager of the branch and was well off. Helping my son fulfill his dreams made me feel like I had a purpose for existence. I told him:
“Son, don’t make the same mistake that your father has done. Don’t ever think down upon your woman.”

Authored by me; Sherif Mohamed 2016

Autumn Rosebud; a ballad


Where art thou, mine dear Rosebud?
Thou art dearly missed within mine heart.
Thy tears I beg thee not to shed to forlorn
Mine departure, for we shalt never come apart.


Thine pages unfold to a new start.
I mourn thy brilliant blue orbs that art beyond doubtful fathom,
And I mourn thy red lips drawn with timeless art.
A sign; I need thee to reveal thy blissful blossom.


Our organs therein shalt never depart.
I hold thee deep within mine timeless autumn;
For eternity I cherish thee, never to part.
You remain blessed; betrothed, we shalt be within mine nameless sanctum.

Winter’s Brunette

Mine fair Brunette, thou goad’st men onto nameless places.
Thine timeless beauty extends beyond overreaching ends.
Thine lustrous black locks shine like smooth silk that woos and dazes.
Thine fresh skin, is as of winter’s snow; always delicate, never pretends,
And thine slender height is modest, with arousing and seductive curves;
Thine breasts art ample, with delicate teats to be caressed;
Thine lashes art finely drawn, with effortless detail;
Thine lustrous orbs art whimsical in color; they art wildly expressed.
Thine nose and thy lips, carved of bees’ sweet wax
Art for me to taste and to savor, down mine wanting throat.
For thou, men dwell upon Sicily’s busied shacks;
They cross endless oceans upon the humble boat;
They come with treasures of diamonds and silver and gold,
Yet they know’st not that priceless thou art and can never be sold.