Monday, May 18, 2009
Just a Note....
Over the next couple of weeks, I will be posting pieces of my writings that I would like my followers to provide feedback on. Your feedback will allow me to make improvements and take my writing to the next level. Don't be shy. I enjoy constructive criticism, it's what makes me a better writer. After all I am aiming to become the next writer to make the bestseller list for the New York Times.
A Dirty Hustle
He was one of those guys that on first impression people took for granted. As far as they were concerned he was just some little dude that they could take advantage of. They even went so far as to think that they could handle him. What they weren’t expecting was in that five four stocky frame was a monster. He had learned early on not to take any shit from anybody. He would be grabbed into his environment early on in life and once he was brought in, it would take a minute before he walked away. They called him Dirty but his government name was Damien Jackson. This is the beginning of the story of the Dirty Hustle.
Fuck! Here I am laying here in the cold hoping that someone heard something and called the cops. But in my line of work, most people chose to mind their own business. They didn’t want any parts of whatever the street hustlers had going on. That gang life had people scared to death. They didn’t want any parts of the drama our life entailed. This was my life and here I was reaping what I had sowed. I was lying here in the dead cold of night, amongst freshly fallen snow, with three bullets to the abdomen, not sure if the paramedics would get here in time to save my pathetic ass life. At this very moment, it seemed that the streets were betraying my black ass, paying me back for all the reckless hell-raising I had caused. These were the same streets I had hustled on for damn near ten years. It was these same streets that I had raked in my countless amounts of dirty money slanging drugs to the fiends that craved it. Now here I was with my black ass, lying here in the damn snow bleeding to death because some young cats decided it was a good idea to fuck me up. Some young punks from another set had ambushed me and shot me down like a dawg in the streets. They had planned to rob me for everything I had. I guess they were a little pissed off when they discovered I wasn’t really packing anything worth taking. They were hoping to score my drugs, jewelry, and monies. That’s how I wound up with the third shot to the abdomen. See I wasn’t no dumb ass nigga. I already knew the game. I knew that to survive in these means streets, I was going have to be smart about how I traveled. So I never traveled with large wads of cash. I always stashed my shit and made sure that I was not carrying enough to draw attention to myself. That’s why I’m lying here with three bullets drilled into me fucking up my brand new jeans outfit, praying someone was going to call it in.
By the time the cops and EMTs arrived I was unconscious. They weren’t expecting me to make it to the hospital. But I wasn’t trying to leave this place before I handled my business. Those motherfuckers that shot me up were definitely going to get what they had coming to them. I was fighting to live just so I could fuck their asses up once I got out of this damn hospital. But one thing at a time… I need to take you back to beginning of this lifestyle of mine. It wouldn’t be fair not to give you a glimpse of the monster that is before you now. So let’s go back. Way back…
I grew up on the mean streets of the NY. That’s right New York. I was raised in Brooklyn right in the middle of the hood. My role models were hustlers, pimps, and dope dealers. I was no ordinary dude. I wasn’t six feet or anywhere near it. I was a little dude. At the close of puberty, I was barely five four and people thought they could take advantage and roll right on over me. But what they didn’t know was that I was smarter than I looked. And fear was not an option in my life. My mother was a crazy wicked woman who didn’t mind bashing a nigga’s head in. Fuck with my mom’s and you definitely would get fucked up. As a matter of fact my mother could roll with the best of them and didn’t give a fuck about cutting up a nigga when she got pissed off. I can recall plenty of nights having to go pull her out of the bars because she was drunk as hell and ready to whoop a bitch’s ass or a nigga’s for that matter. That’s just the way she was and she wasn’t even thinking about changing.
Early on I knew I was going to have to be able to handle myself. I wasn’t the biggest nigga on the block. As a matter of fact, I was probably one of the smallest in the neighborhood. Which for some kids might have presented a problem, but for me it just meant I would have to be ready for anything. I worked out daily to ensure that if I needed to beat a nigga’s ass I could hold my own. My first victim would be when I was about ten. Some dude thought that he was going to disrespect my mother and get away with it. The dude was a neighborhood crack-head who was always trying to rip off people. That crack had his ass in a choke hold and he would do just about anything for his next hit. That fool had made the mistake of snatching my mom’s purse while she was returning home from the store. What he wasn’t counting on, was having to deal with a nigga like me. He had his coming to him and I was going to make sure that he never forgot it. When I located that fool’s whereabouts I beat the brakes off that fool. I didn’t beat him until he was down. I beat him until I was tired. I took a table across that son of bitch’s head until he couldn’t even catch his breath. I had him begging for his life. And when I was done with his ass, I picked his dirty ass up and threw him in the garbage can. They just assumed that he would die right there on the spot, but he didn’t. Just like a crack head to survive an ass whipping like that. He just had to spend a couple of weeks in intensive care while they stabilized his ass. When he did get out of the hospital he thought twice about the way he handle people in the neighborhood. Whenever he saw my mom, he crossed the street or went in the opposite direction. And if he thought he saw me, he would take off running. Because already knew that I was going to whip his ass again.By the time I was thirteen I was a full fledge hustler. I was so heavy into the game, that I had my own crew and everything. There wasn’t anything that I wouldn’t do. I dabbled in everything. I sold dope, ran errands for the local hustlers and was a lookout on occasion at the dope house. I even tried my hand in pimping but discovered that just wasn’t my thing. It didn’t take me long to earn my street credibility. After I kicked a couple of asses and cut a nigga no body was even thinking about trying me. Most people thought twice about fucking with my crazy ass. That’s how I became known as ‘Dirty D’. To many, Dirty D was the nigga that would fuck you up and wouldn’t lose an ounce of sleep over it.
This is a little something that I am working on. I would love to get some feedback on it...
Fuck! Here I am laying here in the cold hoping that someone heard something and called the cops. But in my line of work, most people chose to mind their own business. They didn’t want any parts of whatever the street hustlers had going on. That gang life had people scared to death. They didn’t want any parts of the drama our life entailed. This was my life and here I was reaping what I had sowed. I was lying here in the dead cold of night, amongst freshly fallen snow, with three bullets to the abdomen, not sure if the paramedics would get here in time to save my pathetic ass life. At this very moment, it seemed that the streets were betraying my black ass, paying me back for all the reckless hell-raising I had caused. These were the same streets I had hustled on for damn near ten years. It was these same streets that I had raked in my countless amounts of dirty money slanging drugs to the fiends that craved it. Now here I was with my black ass, lying here in the damn snow bleeding to death because some young cats decided it was a good idea to fuck me up. Some young punks from another set had ambushed me and shot me down like a dawg in the streets. They had planned to rob me for everything I had. I guess they were a little pissed off when they discovered I wasn’t really packing anything worth taking. They were hoping to score my drugs, jewelry, and monies. That’s how I wound up with the third shot to the abdomen. See I wasn’t no dumb ass nigga. I already knew the game. I knew that to survive in these means streets, I was going have to be smart about how I traveled. So I never traveled with large wads of cash. I always stashed my shit and made sure that I was not carrying enough to draw attention to myself. That’s why I’m lying here with three bullets drilled into me fucking up my brand new jeans outfit, praying someone was going to call it in.
By the time the cops and EMTs arrived I was unconscious. They weren’t expecting me to make it to the hospital. But I wasn’t trying to leave this place before I handled my business. Those motherfuckers that shot me up were definitely going to get what they had coming to them. I was fighting to live just so I could fuck their asses up once I got out of this damn hospital. But one thing at a time… I need to take you back to beginning of this lifestyle of mine. It wouldn’t be fair not to give you a glimpse of the monster that is before you now. So let’s go back. Way back…
I grew up on the mean streets of the NY. That’s right New York. I was raised in Brooklyn right in the middle of the hood. My role models were hustlers, pimps, and dope dealers. I was no ordinary dude. I wasn’t six feet or anywhere near it. I was a little dude. At the close of puberty, I was barely five four and people thought they could take advantage and roll right on over me. But what they didn’t know was that I was smarter than I looked. And fear was not an option in my life. My mother was a crazy wicked woman who didn’t mind bashing a nigga’s head in. Fuck with my mom’s and you definitely would get fucked up. As a matter of fact my mother could roll with the best of them and didn’t give a fuck about cutting up a nigga when she got pissed off. I can recall plenty of nights having to go pull her out of the bars because she was drunk as hell and ready to whoop a bitch’s ass or a nigga’s for that matter. That’s just the way she was and she wasn’t even thinking about changing.
Early on I knew I was going to have to be able to handle myself. I wasn’t the biggest nigga on the block. As a matter of fact, I was probably one of the smallest in the neighborhood. Which for some kids might have presented a problem, but for me it just meant I would have to be ready for anything. I worked out daily to ensure that if I needed to beat a nigga’s ass I could hold my own. My first victim would be when I was about ten. Some dude thought that he was going to disrespect my mother and get away with it. The dude was a neighborhood crack-head who was always trying to rip off people. That crack had his ass in a choke hold and he would do just about anything for his next hit. That fool had made the mistake of snatching my mom’s purse while she was returning home from the store. What he wasn’t counting on, was having to deal with a nigga like me. He had his coming to him and I was going to make sure that he never forgot it. When I located that fool’s whereabouts I beat the brakes off that fool. I didn’t beat him until he was down. I beat him until I was tired. I took a table across that son of bitch’s head until he couldn’t even catch his breath. I had him begging for his life. And when I was done with his ass, I picked his dirty ass up and threw him in the garbage can. They just assumed that he would die right there on the spot, but he didn’t. Just like a crack head to survive an ass whipping like that. He just had to spend a couple of weeks in intensive care while they stabilized his ass. When he did get out of the hospital he thought twice about the way he handle people in the neighborhood. Whenever he saw my mom, he crossed the street or went in the opposite direction. And if he thought he saw me, he would take off running. Because already knew that I was going to whip his ass again.By the time I was thirteen I was a full fledge hustler. I was so heavy into the game, that I had my own crew and everything. There wasn’t anything that I wouldn’t do. I dabbled in everything. I sold dope, ran errands for the local hustlers and was a lookout on occasion at the dope house. I even tried my hand in pimping but discovered that just wasn’t my thing. It didn’t take me long to earn my street credibility. After I kicked a couple of asses and cut a nigga no body was even thinking about trying me. Most people thought twice about fucking with my crazy ass. That’s how I became known as ‘Dirty D’. To many, Dirty D was the nigga that would fuck you up and wouldn’t lose an ounce of sleep over it.
This is a little something that I am working on. I would love to get some feedback on it...
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
A Mother's Love
The passing of time
The blowing of the wind
The blossoming of spring
The freshness of the rain
The tenderness of new life
The beginning of new beginnings
With all of these things nothing can replace
The simplicity and comfort of A Mother's Love
So cherish her very essence
Embrace her strength
Succomb to her very being
Recognize her pain
Be attentive to her needs
Know who she is
Be considerate of all that she's been through
Accept the knowledge that she holds
And realize with all these things nothing can replace
The simplicity and comfort of A Mother's Love
Love your mother
Hug your mother
Appreciate your mother
You won't get another one like her
Happy Mother's Day to Mother's everywhere!!
The blowing of the wind
The blossoming of spring
The freshness of the rain
The tenderness of new life
The beginning of new beginnings
With all of these things nothing can replace
The simplicity and comfort of A Mother's Love
So cherish her very essence
Embrace her strength
Succomb to her very being
Recognize her pain
Be attentive to her needs
Know who she is
Be considerate of all that she's been through
Accept the knowledge that she holds
And realize with all these things nothing can replace
The simplicity and comfort of A Mother's Love
Love your mother
Hug your mother
Appreciate your mother
You won't get another one like her
Happy Mother's Day to Mother's everywhere!!
Thursday, March 19, 2009
How Dare He!!
How dare he!!
That nigga fucked my brains out
He laid that shit down like
He was on death row
And that was the last piece of ass
He was ever going to get
That fool ate my pussy
He sucked my clit till I screamed at the top of my lungs
He fingered fucked me alternating fingers
That nigga had me in the zone
I didn't know what he was going to do next
What I did know
It was going to be a long night
He started to torment me with the dick
He wouldn't just roll right into the pussy
Instead he rubbed ice all over the clit
Then teased me some more with his tongue
That son-of-a-bitch was driving me crazy
I just wanted him to beat the pussy up
But he had other ideas in mind
He dipped his dick in some warm chocolate sauce
Then drizzled it around my breasts
He then rubbed his dick across my lips
His dick was delicious to the taste
The chocolaty concoction was tantalizing to my taste buds
I licked his shaft like it was a lollipop
I sucked that dick like it was something sweet in the middle
Before long he was moaning and groaning
It wasn't until he exploded that I realized just how intense things were
You would have thought that we were done with each other
But that was only the beginning
I spread my legs open and welcomed him in
He rubbed that clit ever so gently
Then he slid that magnificent shaft in
That motherfucker was on a mission
And that was to fuck my perm right out of my head
We did on the floor
On the bed
On the sofa
In the bathroom
On a chair that only heighten the moment
That man fucked me all kinds of ways
And when we came
Boy did we come
Yeah he got some something something about him
I wasn't expecting him to get down like that
He fucked me long and hard
He made sure that he left a mark
I felt like he had planted his flag on my pussy
And what a beautiful flag it was
That was one hell of a night
That's why I said How dare he
What’s All the Hype!?
What is all the hype
Yeah I got a couple of pounds here and there
Hell I think I look pretty good
What's the big deal
Let me see you have three kids, a dog and a husband
Hell I like the way I look
I think I'm fine as fuck
I don't care what the experts say
They don't know nothing
They couldn't even make up their minds about eggs
So what's all the hype
It's just another fad
Just another reason for them to alarm the public
Forget them
I know how to manage me
And I don't need some expert telling me otherwise
There
Now what
He made me…
He made me…
Want him
Need him
Dream of him
He made me…
Warm inside
Tingle down below
Get worked up
Get creamed up
He made me…
Desire him
Pant for him
Get undressed for him
Think pornographically for him
Rethink life for him
He made me…
Undress for him
Lick him sensuously
Suck him dry
Fuck him senseless
He made me…
Dream of him
Need him
Want him
He made me…
WET!!
Saturday, February 21, 2009
A New Release
Hello, Everyone!
I just wanted to share my news about my newest release. It is entitled "A Spiritual Walk: Journaling with Christ". This is a journaling companion for individuals that would like to chronicle their spiritual walk with Christ. You can pick up your copy at the following locations:
Createspace.com: https://www.createspace.com/3364273
AnotherQueCreation.com: http://www.AnotherQueCreation.com
(All orders placed here will be autographed by the author)
If you have not ordered your copy of "Emotionally Unhinged: A Poetic Expression of Sorts", you can find this poetry compilation at the following locations:
Createspace.com: https://www.createspace.com/3346383
AnotherQueCreation.com: http://www.AnotherQueCreation.com
(All orders placed here will be autographed by the author)
SPECIAL OFFER: When you purchase a copy of both books from AnotherQueCreation.com, you will get both titles for $16. This offer is good until March 2, 2009.
So order your copy (or copies) today!!
Thank you for your support!
Que D. Jacobs
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