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BrutalMadness
Beyond this words, lies a broken soul.
94 Posts • 266 Followers • 121 Following
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Cover image for post Who is @James, by James
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James in Nonfiction

Who is @James

My name is Ogungbesan Adedoyinsola, I am 20 years old. I was born in Lagos state, Nigeria. And I have lived in Lagos, since I was born.

Sometime many years ago, I was diagnosed with cerebral malaria and had serious episodes of convulsions. After undergoing several blood transfusion. My condition became critical, I was in comma for nearly a week. Hours to when the doctors concluded that it best I was let to rest. The life that everyone thought had ended, opened my eyes.

It took me time to fully recover, but after few years I was fully functional, but had lost some vital memories of my childhood. I got along just fine and friends in school. But my home was not in order. My dad, who is always smoking and drinking had a hot temper, my mom who claims she did not marry my father out of love. She was raped by father when she was 18 years or so, got pregnant and was forced to marry the father of the baby in her womb. Due, to family heritage and respect. She became his bride.

The baby in her womb, that is my older sister, the first of four children.

The rest are boys, and I happen to be the last of them all.

My mom left my father when I was a baby, to raise us by herself and with the help of her father, who later died that very year.

She struggled to put us in school, with little help from friends and family, to manage through hard times.

My sister graduated from college years after, only to start my mothers life cycle, in a more fetish way. She's with two daughters now and no job. Her husband also does not have a constant job. Seriously I don't know what he does. You can tell from the look of her first daughter that they're malnourished.

My older brother, the first boy is currently serving in Kano state as an interim Economics teacher, which ends sometime in September. He has no actual plan for his life, and he his gradually walking in the footsteps of my father. Not caring for his well being psychologically, chain of girl friends, etc.

The second boy, did well for himself, but failed to achieve the goal he had set for himself, due to peer pressure. He works in a bank, but his consciousness to the things of the world, is gradually taking him on a downward heel.

I, the most stubborn of all, have looked into the steps of my predecessor and noticed that, if I continue in this environment, I would likely end up like them. So I stopped going to class. Because I must rewrite my family history. I sit in the library all day thinking of things I can do, not to end up like them. I sleep at the staircase towards the library. My life is totally isolated from everyone. I had to stop going to class because the state of my country is dire, the future is bleak. The same thing happens again and again.

I don't want to end up as poor as my family is. So all the post I have on prose are done with tears and hope. I sleep most of the night very hungry. Sometimes I beg, so that I have to live to survive another day. I believe I can change the world, but, I cannot do so from where I am. I have worn a single trouser for over month now. To be fair, prose is all have. The money I should use to eat, I use it to prose. I need a change in environment. This is a cry from my innermost heart. If you're out there and you can take me from this forsaken place, please help me. I'm a man broke with a smiling teeth.

Cover image for post Stuck, by Jessa
Profile avatar image for Jessa
Jessa in Poetry & Free Verse

Stuck

What's left to say

When words

Are out of the place

What's to be heard

When there's only silence

Occupying the space

Emptiness in the eye

What's more to gaze

Nothing more to adore

When the view

Clouded with haze

There's no way out

When we're circling

Around the maze

I wonder will both of us

Burned together

In this painful blaze

People keep saying

That this is another phase

So will you stop running

And let's cut the chase

-Jessa

Challenge
Let's challenge ourselves. Our English prowess is obvious - so let's put it to the test by writing something math inspired. Numbers, equations, all things mathy. Very different from the Prose norm - so this should be interesting! I did one too - so don't forget to tag me!
Cover image for post X-rated Mathematics, by sandflea68
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sandflea68 in Stream of Consciousness

X-rated Mathematics

Mmm! He was such a sexy ten

He counted his fingers sensually

on my body in fours and fives.

When he used both hands,

he multiplied my lust by two.

His tongue divided my core

into jangling carnal pieces.

Thrusting himself within,

we became one.

graphed together in

X’s of desire.

“But Y,” I asked,

"must he subtract himself

leaving me

minus one,

even less than zero?"

Challenge
Okay, I've another horror challenge. This one flash fiction. Evil disbursed. Scare me good! I will do one too. Sorry no poetry. Flash fiction...150 word max. Horror, gore, suspense, thriller! I know this is out of the comfort zone for a lot...me especially ha! But, that makes it even funner. And the word limit makes it even more challenging! Don't forget to tag to me!
Cover image for post Hairloom, by sandflea68
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sandflea68 in Horror & Thriller

Hairloom

“You have an obsession for women’s long hair,” the psychiatrist rephrased his patient’s words. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. There are a lot worse things in life!”

“Well, sometimes I sit in the mall for hours just gazing at girls with beautiful glossy hair. My fascination is beginning to take over my life,” confessed the young man slouched down in his chair.

“I can either medicate you or we can try counseling sessions,” the doctor said in a bored tone. But why is it bothering you so much?”

Putting his head in his hands, the man sobbed, “I have no more space in my bedroom for the swatches of hair hanging from my ceiling and my basement is beginning to smell of rotten flesh. How can I continue in my passion if there is no more room?”

Cover image for post Seduced by a Demon, Loved by an Angel, by ElysiumHaven
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ElysiumHaven in Poetry & Free Verse

Seduced by a Demon, Loved by an Angel

Whom shall I choose?

The devil, where sensual pleasures are promised--

Or the angel, where divine love and comfort is given...

But alas, the devil has me in his grasp

Holding me allured, chained to his promise

But my heart yearns for this angel...

Lord, have mercy on me for what I am about to do...

My body sacrificed to the one that I do not love.

My heart and soul yearning for you my Lord and my angel...

Another scar added to my soul,

The devil has won over this tormented soul!

My angel and my Lord-- I desperately love,

But the devil has me in his Faustian trap,

For ever I am to do his bidding...

Seduced by a demon,

Loved by an angel...

Challenge
Prose Challenge of the Week #31: Write a piece of poetry or prose based on this question: Your walls have ears, what do they hear? The winner will be chosen based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. The winner will receive $100. When sharing to Twitter, please use the hashtag #ProseChallenge
Cover image for post What sounds do you make?, by NFinity
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NFinity

What sounds do you make?

I was once asked what would my home's walls say about me,

so I started to listen and I must say they've changed me.

I was once asked what would my home's walls say about me,

 they listened. 

Cover image for post fall and end : Act l - unanswerable, by meadow_stranger
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meadow_stranger in Poetry & Free Verse

fall and end : Act l - unanswerable

welcome to the aftermath,

as rome fell,

july began to end,

even though it had just begun.

So,

i'm ending,

trying too,

he's completely fallen.

i realized,

i was july,

not rome.

he was always rome,

never july.

time has been aiding,

helping,

but places,

faces,

traces of him...

everywhere i go,

does he know?

does he feel what i'm feeling?

part of me wants to ask,

but when an instance arises,

i let it slip by pass.

i know you,

i know you well,

i fell for you,

i hope you know that.

i let myself become bruised,

and scratched,

and cut,

and stabbed,

because i though...

i stupidly,

foolishly thought,

things would hold up.

do you know me?

or did you know me?

social cues,

sigh,

i know you're horrible at them,

but then...

how did you know when to hold my hand,

when i couldn't even hold my head up around you?

when did you know you were going to win me over,

when i didn't even realized i fell in love?

i should stop,

my mind is wandering again,

then,

i know where i'll end up.

i always end there.

Cover image for post Untitled, by derickijohnson
Profile avatar image for derickijohnson
derickijohnson in Poetry & Free Verse

Angry voices

Gunshots' boom

Tragedy

Of deaths

Come too soon

We pause

In purity

Of silence

Under

A waxing moon

This question's answer

I wish I knew-

When will we

Stop the violence

Tween black and blue?

-DeRicki

Cover image for post Sleeping Beauty, by poetsdream
Profile avatar image for poetsdream
poetsdream in Poetry & Free Verse

Sleeping Beauty

She is my sleeping Beauty

Cozy and snug

Dreaming about squirrels

Or having a rope tug

Tired from her day

Eating and playing

Wiggling her tail

With a perfect smile displaying

She looks so peaceful

Quiet and serene

My beautiful baby

She's my little queen

Sleep away baby

Tomorrow is another day

Food, bones, and toys

I'm sure you'll be ready to play

K.j.a. (c) 2016

Challenge
Silence. Use this word in any context and let your thoughts flow freely. Can be written in any genre.
Profile avatar image for albrew
albrew

silence; ponderings

silence, the absence of all sound

or is it something more profound?

if you can't listen, can you perceive?

is there always noise, with no reprieve?

many questions with no clear answer

is noise like movement to a dancer?

can you feel sound if you can't hear?

the answer to this one seems clear

we must all sense sound in some way

and miss it when it fades away

except when silence ceases to be

an absence, and momentarily

we're immersed instead in our other senses

cast aside presumptions and defenses

allowed to revel in the taste, the feel

of life and love and what is real

absorbing texture, prismatic light

sunshine day and shadow night

if you let true quietude seep in

and let go of internal din

silence, no longer sound that's disappeared

but a fresh path that's now been cleared

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