RFFW Podcast ,Who got next? : An episode on the rise and fall of the And 1 brand

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.


A Horizon Help

  • Welcome readers, I’m glad to present a collaboration poem I wrote with Aston Kamunde, a writer who I’ve written poems with in the past. When he gave me the draft for this poem, I was intrigued immediately. I had to be meticulous with editing and adding my contributions. With that said, I’m proud of the quality of this piece, and I hope you’ll enjoy it. Lastly, I included below Aston Kamunde’s blog site URL so you can check out his work. Copy the link into the web address or search his name on WordPress. As always, peace and keep it real.
  • https://astonkamunde.wordpress.com/

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 

Hidden smile

  • This is the 2nd poem I’ve edited and contributed to for my man Aston Kamunde @AstonKamunde on WordPress.
  • My contributions are italicized

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


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

The Wanderer

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

Encounter with an African Goddess

(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

A motherland connection (collaboration)

  • I’d like to dedicate my verse to the Somali and all African diaspora. 
  • This collaboration has been in the works since the end of last month. Due to timing constraints and busy schedules it had to be put to the side until both parties had completed their assignments.
  • This is my 2nd collaboration with Aston Kamunde @AstonKamunde on WordPress.


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



I am sorry (Collaboration poem)

  • Aston Kamunde, @https://astonkamunde.wordpress.com/
  • featuring RhymeRula of Real Free -Flowing Words
  • Check out Aston’s poetry blog to read the wonderful poetry he expresses on WordPress. You will not be disappointed and make sure to give him a follow so you can continue reading his great writings. PEACE and MUCH LOVE


(Aston’s Stanzas)

She wanted to plead

For forgiveness

For love



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



A nationwide calamity needing liberation

  • 2nd posted collaboration with Patrick of @mycreativepatience, with more to come
  • I wrote the 1st verse
  • If you haven’t checked out our last one Majestic Muse please do
  • This piece is kind of long so take your time reading it and please don’t rush into liking or commenting on it, that is if you only have anything constructive to say. Thanks and Peace


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

Majestic Muse (Collaboration)

  • This is a collaborative poem I wrote with my homie Patrick @mycreativepatience
  • This is the first posted collaboration of a few we have in the works
  • I wrote the 2nd verse
  • @mycreativepatience ft. Real – Free Flowing Words (RhymeRula)

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

majestic muse pic.jpeg




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