Check out my latest episode of Real Free Flowing Words podcast below. Click the link to listen and hit the follow button so you stay up to date with my future posts.

To write the real, you have to show all the rawness, which has its harsh beauty and this is my platform to do just that. Not shying away from any subject matter or theme. Blog entries, Poetry (Free verse, Haiku, Narrative poetry), Black History,Photography, and a full course of wisdom quotes. Peace, TheRhymeRula
Check out my latest episode of Real Free Flowing Words podcast below. Click the link to listen and hit the follow button so you stay up to date with my future posts.
The dawn began spreading faster and faster
Grasping a pen with hot fingers
Eyes radiating with focus
Staring at expressive hands
That wouldn’t relinquish determination
The sharp scrapping of his pen picking up strength
The sunrise horizon his muse
At first, the pen ran dry
But suddenly with much persistence
Words began pouring with great speed
Nothing to impede the message
Every stanza more exquisite than the last
Dark quivering thoughts painted on an old canvas
But with every passing minute
All the dark spaces illuminated like a series of matchsticks
All anger growing watery and blended with sudden liberation
Glutton for an intellectual feast
Nourished with a new disposition
Every word made his pupils dilate
The sunshine emanating on every corner of his page
He inhaled a cold draft of fresh air
Which brought forth a memory
Of a friend from the past
Restoring balance and confidence
To continue writing without inhibitions
I longed to hush my sleepless nights
from the darkly depths of resentment
that torn and bruised my soul
and left me standing alone.
For many days and months
I felt numb and desolate
not even the sun’s distillery
could save me from my misery
Yesterday,
by the close of day
the eastern winds whispered gently
even though gentle touch had lost its meaning.
They spoke of my home
reminding of sunlight on my skin
and of the magic of autumn weather
where flowers scatter in poise and glamour.
The same winds knew
how long I cried in the cold
those days should burn and die
and pave way for my hidden smile to appreciate greener days
Dreaming without end
Warming up to a new scenario
At my home
the sounds of leaves
and the songs of birds
now bring me back to life
every time
Sometimes I wonder
if anyone’s watching
how despair torments
the lone wanderer
Under the quiet moonlight
a currency of shadows
encircles him
sinking him deeper and deeper
the surface of life is on the verge to seal shut
He watches those around him
carry the same strangeness
dreadful in the shallowness
of their damaged hearts
One thing was certain,
The morning storm
couldn’t distract him from his voyage
The wanderer cries silently
not for the loneliness
that accompanies him
but for the pity that rains his soul.
Embarking on his darkest chapter
the blackened clouds
the only compass
he can trust
Profoundly engrossed
In his own self-styled
ethical standards and ideal religion
The wanderer takes no notice
of the wheel works of rays
in the sun that shines brokenly
or the moonlight that hides his identity
His heart moans for hyperactive temptations
The Wanderer knows that there is no easy path to happiness
So for now he’ll endure the dangers
until the end of time
(This is dedicated to all the African beauties)
The sky ebbed and flowed
Curious winds centered my focus
Feeble petals flying perplexedly
From the dark petals that painted the earth
As if ready for the arrival of a new but old force
Announced by the distilled sweetness of a bright day
Colored by a million golden strands of sunshine
That offered a thousand promises of a woman’s spell
Falling on her dark skin like a ripple of starlight during half moon
She was an African goddess
Her uniqueness was well hidden just as her luscious curves
Each footstep escorted by a different tune from the former
From gorgeous hips worshiped by long legs and full thighs
Slightly covered by sunny feathers speaking my entire language
Soft breeze slithering seductively through her long tangled hair
That seemed to spew secrets of an infinite beauty
Her eyes were decorated with a wondrous darkness
That fought so bravely to dim my sparkle
Encounter with the image before me
Seemed like all revelation fulfilled
Her beauty blessed my morning cup
filling it with clouds of dreams and worldly perspectives
Our complexion protected against the sun
That’ll never stop testing our resilience
Appreciating her exuberant confidence
That begins simply with a ravishing smile
Address to truly yours
I must say that this is one of those fortunate encounters
I call her a treasure trove that’s inside my grasp
Doing my best to stay course
to her rising paradise that’s not easy to hold onto if unprepared
TheRhymeRula’s Verses
Within me there are direct connections to the motherland in my DNA,
An American born African man whose ancestors land was the grand stage for tribal wars,
A diaspora of natives escaping from the daily torment to new nations,
Not oblivious to the conditions my people have been and are living in for decades
That’s understood well and good,
So I beg the question, can we really stop violence from manifesting?
Don’t answer, because conflict like death is inevitable,
We’re endlessly digesting daily hate
Only to excrete death,
There’s no way for osmosis to reverse and filter out the toxins
That invades our well being constantly,
One step removed from a disaster
if someone laughs or looks at you the wrong way,
From the Horn of Africa to the land where dreams are born
To urban terrains where for some reality is a staircase leading nowhere,
I write this a day before the 4th of July,
But what is there to celebrate for immigrants and black folk
who enter an unwelcoming land?
Finding no allegiance to a land that cripples them indignantly,
My soul is on fire with everlasting pain
For I’m an American born African
Wishing to retreat back to his ancestors land
That has not fully settled back to prominence,
So I’m going to leave you with this
As I give the spotlight to my African brother so he can reminisce
and let the world know that
you can’t dismiss the abundance that reaches out of this continents surface
Aston’s Verses
The smell of the rain felt prominent
Drops of rain hit the African soil
My toes sought to dig deep into the loose earth
Such facade of peace was too blinding
Nothing could invade the stillness of air
This moment refined all reasonable thoughts,
My only wish; to feel glorious
To live a dream within many dreams
If only by the whim of African gods
Whose loyalty is painted against my dark skin
Darkness that hides my aching secrete desires
To experience freedom, to use and feel it
These words had been spoken before
To the African child who had been exposed
To a cruel vulnerable past that acts as a reminder
A past that has bared the African soul
Eras had changed hastily
Home had turned into prison
Sons and daughters were sniggered into the dark
Today they think of all the humiliation and pain
Instead of cutting the weeds that grew out of cracks
To paint a picture that had never been reflected before
And breathe a familiar smell of freedom and reverence
How surprised they would be if only they knew the truth
That they possess a power that gleams in the shadows
(Aston’s Stanzas)
She wanted to plead
For forgiveness
For love
Touch
Tears of shame
Bared her self-hate
Oblivious of the smell
Of the earth and rain
The fog of mystery
And hushed emotions
Stood between them
The sky dead and overcast
She had broken him
She had betrayed them,
Had poisoned her loyalty,
Their past, present and promises
She was a small fly
Caught in a mesh of thorns
Needing to speak only three words
But “I am sorry” felt so insufficient
He was everything to her,
Many colors of passion
Her whole world,
Her magic
How could she say all these things?
The quiet was hurting her,
His eyes were cold deep
And quizzical
(RhymeRula’s Stanzas)
Envisioning the requiem for a reconciliation,
Forsaken by a cruel distance,
Exhausted as she pleads for forgiveness
Towards the ones she neglected,
The same rhetoric repeated through every phone call,
Your “sorrows” are not accepted here no more,
Nothing to show for in a world full of karma
Except being cursed with a swollen heart,
Rupturing to the point of no resurgence,
Limp in her dying moments,
She stared at the full moon as it graced multiple presences,
Only the illumination would capture her last blink,
Finally relinquishing a dying apology that never came full circle
Verse 1: RhymeRula (@Real Free -Flowing Words)
As I sit back feeding energy to this pen
A silent roar helps release the beast from its den
My mind is reluctant to tame the anger that’s roaring from within
so for now I’m going to let it be,
Liberation is the mission to allow not only me
but my people from continuing to be placed six feet deep from centuries of brutality,
Fists raised as an assembly occurs for a change
while faces like mine keep returning to locked cells
with a harsh sentence for non – violent drug offenses
chasing that elusive crown to rule corners
Eventually becoming victims of the game
Concrete pavements stained with split blood and names of the “prey”
A reoccurring cycle built into a maze for the “predators” to hunt and walk away,
Mollifying the anguish and grief by compensating the pouring tears
so the attention on them can quickly retreat,
Nightmares of the slain appear constantly throughout nights
so it’s hard to sleep when you know they have you defeated
The caged bird has been singing the same song for centuries
eventually finding it exhausting to develop a plan to fly away
and find true freedom,
Doing it’s best to persevere throughout all the chained limits
On course to finding an army to help rejuvenate all the tired wings with endless unification
Who have enough energy to fly away
Towards a goal of relinquishing
the subjection and hold of the oppressors,
but with every needle in a haystack you’ll find a group of ignorant coons!
(You heard that right)
who’ll make their presence known
with statements that would make you think
that Amerikkka has them under a mind control
as they continue to build a new slavery in prisons as a new home,
If only we could dream of a governing a new nation of our own
and perceive liberation as a not an illusion but a foregone conclusion
Changing the flag into red, black, and green
gathering the largest team, the country has ever seen
So the revolution has got to be televised as I turn around and ask
my brother to pass me the remote so I can turn up the volume and analyze
The ending of a nationwide calamity
Verse 2: Patrick (@mycreativepatience)
Nationwide calamity
All this insanity is maddening
Keep your hands up high because one wrong move
and your life could be out of luck,
Friends can turn into enemies within a span of minutes
So in this moment my pen is only thing I can trust
My minds abroad so I’m swimming within the leak of this pen,
I can’t stand the attendance of governmental decisions,
Why society is split in many divisions?
Why politicians focus on what’s the vintage?
when they should be focused on fixing the society that we live in,
Why so many hungry men, women, and children,
The higher classes need to stop ridiculous economical spending,
Its reality! look at the statistics this cold world we’re existing in,
Did I forget to mention that we’re “fishes” in this ocean of “sharks”
Some pessimists needs to be beaten senseless,
lower down the gate so they can come to their common senses,
Let’s help create a society that helps unify human existence,
Let’s rise and co exist together so we can help make our world a little better
There’s too many lying
A list of the most wanted are still in hiding
Mourning for the unarmed lives that keep dying because they weren’t “complying“
Get high so we can ease the times, socialize, and replay our actions the next day
My pen is the angriest it’s ever been as I leave you with this message
with no return to sender if offended
as I stare at my watch that stopped ticking patiently waiting and wishing for the suffering to end
Photo credit – John Hain
Verse 1: Patrick, @mycreativepatience
Her remembrance is evidence not just simply by her sheer elegance,
An angel heaven sent rendering me speechless,
As her sunset erosion creates the explosion for my defense,
Nothing pretense will past tense as she preaches,
Carefully listening not just with my ears but within my heart as it reaches,
The soul, leaving my body out of place and without the ability to gain control,
Her therapy is the recipe delivering “food for the soul”
the nourishment to guide me while I practice what it teaches
Verse2: RhymeRula, @Real Free – Flowing Words
Consuming her fumes and savoring her words as it digests into something majestic
I remember the times when
Her presence was a safe haven bundling up my languished soul from the peril of a winter storm
The least I could do was spring her back to balance if she may fall.
On some days her heavenly tears pour down with immense intensity
Unfazed as I cup my hands to purify my past sinful actions
Sensing the powers of her tears quench my thirst
rejuvenating me as I stare up at a scorching sunrise
Majestic like a ruby stone her brave soul fights against daily adversity so I can’t leave her alone
Bridging the gap so she can meet me halfway if ever lost
Writers block dormant as I keep my eyes open seeing my everyday muse floating towards me