A thirty-six year old dignified bachelor name
Lavelle L. Wellington
woke up from a dream desperately wanting back to his imaginary family.
The wife was name
and their five-year-old son looked just like Lavelle.
That afternoon he reconnects with his college sweetheart. Her name is Lady.
He hasn't seen her in nine years, and she has a five-year-old son who closely resembles Lavelle.
He shares his dream, and since they both know there are on coincidences,
Lavelle and Lady wasted no time getting married.
Evermore December 21, 2012,
Lavelle has had two distinct voices inside his head.
One does poetry leading him to a guy named
Lavelle and Lady Wellington were having dinner with their best friends,
Dexter and Yolahjuh Davenport.
London McCall approaches their booth with an absolute radiant lady airing graciously alongside of him.
“She looks so familiar!”
Lavelle says to himself.
Despite contemplation he's unable to attach a label.
Then London introduces her,
“This is my most astonishing wife, Sonji.”
And Lavelle's chin about breaks the table.
That same night,
another power couple draws near their booth.
After London introduces them, he kisses the wife,
and Sonji kisses the husband.
But they didn't kiss one another like sister and brother.
“Wo! Wo! Wo!”
Dexter says and continues his fixed position on what marriage is all about.
Then Lady antagonizes both couples with subtle judgmental comments of her own.
Both amorous couples calmly express their free spirited view.
Lavelle and Yolahjuh however, share a live and let live slant.
They say nothing leaving Dexter and Lady feeling betrayed.
Hence, leading the best of childhood friends and or spouses to
S.ome H.eated E.xchanges.
About the author/poet/spoken word artist
My grandmother named my father
Alan Theartist Duff.
I was born and raised mostly in
three years in
Grand Rapids, Michigan.
From ages eight to thirteen I cut grass, raked leaves, shoveled snow, and had a paper route. From thirteen to eighteen I worked at The Inverness Club starting at apprentice-caddy, B-caddy, A-caddy, and ultimately promoted to Captain caddy. At age eighteen I joined the United States Marine Corp. graduating boot-camp with a perfect score of 300 on the physical fitness test.
My nickname had always been Booby but while in the Marines I took my rap ability serious so my brother stage named me Booby-Trap.
I became a Toledo Firefighter July sixteenth, nineteen ninety-three and released a cassette tape called Booby-Trap! that same year.
This is when an angry twenty-three year-old learned to take full responsibility for what I recite, and what type of music I recite it to.
One of my songs were playing at a crowded club. People were chanting the chorus before the first verse started. But then the same crowd turned violent before the song even ended. Escalating to gun shots fired inside the club.
I didn't stick around to find out who
toward my car and witnessed another brotha' who would've got shot, if his would be maker's gun hadn't jammed. What bothered most about that night, I thought my song was showing LOVE to all my brothas' and sistas' from Out Stickney. I mentioned a lot people in the song. However I neglected to mention my biological little brother, and he took it kind of hard so,
“What's up, Lil bruh?!”Anthony Durell Duff. Aka
But anyway, after that dark night, I swore to shine the light and only recite positive words to what I refer to as therapeutic music.
AROUND AGE THIRTY,
I CAUGHT A SEVERE CASE OF WRITER'S BLOCK.
DURING THAT THREE YEAR HIATUS, I REALIZED BOOBY-TRAP AND ALAN WERE BOTH RELENTLESS AT FINDING WAYS TO RUIN MY INNER STATE.
I SAID TO MYSELF,
“I WANNA BE
AND WORDS CAME BACK TO ME IN STORY-POETRY FORMATIONS.
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