Brass Knuckle

Photo - Essequibo River

BrassKnuckle2K8@gmail.com (Brass Knuckle) — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 14:16:00 +0000

This was taken around 5 pm. The sun wasn't about to set but I thought with the dark clouds approaching it should come out great. And it did!

Photo - Essequibo River

BrassKnuckle2K8@gmail.com (Brass Knuckle) — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 13:58:00 +0000

Little Island in the Essequibo River. I want to explore it when I have the time. I wonder what kind of animals live there. Are there any rare birds or plant species there? Who knows....

Corruption

BrassKnuckle2K8@gmail.com (Brass Knuckle) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 17:13:00 +0000

Many things have happened since I last posted. I made several trips to the interior, some memorable, others more memorable than some. I took my camera with me so I could capture interesting places and objects, got a few lucky shots. I cherish the time I spent home, my daughter is growing, I take photos almost everyday, I probably have close to 500 photos or more. She gets more beautiful with each passing day; her mother also.

The talk around town is the torture of the 14 year old. It's sad and sickening. Our rights are being trampled upon daily. I can't help but think we, collectively, have played a role in what happened.

We break traffic rules daily; such as the speed limit and adhering to road signs. We litter without regards to the damage we cause to the environment and our contribution to fast track global warming. We refuse to discipline our children, limit the numbers we make and live as a complete family unit (one parent missing), all recipies for bad parenting, lack of proper parental supervision and a downward spiral into a life of poverty, criminality and instability. We pay the police bribes and lunch monies instead of demanding a ticket. We beat our children mercilessly without explaining to the child what he/she did wrong. We encourage our children to steal and become bullies.

We are not responsible, we see wrongs being committed and refuse to speak out. It builds up slowly and in the end it boils over. We saw it with the killing of Mr. Ramdass by the Coast Guard ranks - his crime: having money in his possession that they wanted for themselves. We saw it again with the poisoning of "Biscuit" - his crime: complained successfully that he was tortured to give a false statement. Now it is the 14 yr old - his crime: not known but now mutilated for life at the hands of the proctectors of the state. They are seeking to punish the decent minded person/s who emailed that photo to KN instead of punishing the rogue officers and their superiors who facilitated this atrocity to occur.

Ah yes, are we law abiding citizens? It is in our nature to do wrong. We have no Government, no Police Force, no Army and no Public Offices that are free from corruption and who will refuse to take the bribes and carry out their duties according to the law. So we have become corrupted......

Aerial Shots

BrassKnuckle2K8@gmail.com (Brass Knuckle) — Fri, 09 Oct 2009 23:27:00 +0000

In tribute to Providence Stadium

BrassKnuckle2K8@gmail.com (Brass Knuckle) — Fri, 09 Oct 2009 15:45:00 +0000

Near Parika, East Bank Essequibo

Ogle, East Coast Demerara

Lift Off! And away we go!

Work

BrassKnuckle2K8@gmail.com (Brass Knuckle) — Thu, 24 Sep 2009 13:15:00 +0000

I stared at the four walls surrounding me; creamish with evidence of neglect splattered all over them. They will be my company for how ever long I decide to remain in the profession I unwillingly entered. No television, internet, telephone or books are present. I would have to buy these things if I want any sort of comfort in this prison I voluntairly placed myself in. I will not buy these things as I do not want to feel at home here, this is supposed to be temporary and I will not tempt myself to have any sentimental attachment when I leave.

Work we must, to support our family, to buy that X-Box 360, to enjoy the simple pleasures of life. Work we must! Nothing of substance is acquired easily in life, if it is it would be treated with disdain and it's value only recognised after it has been squandered. So I am here, in the middle of nowhere, with the feeling of acute fear, shivering in the morning air, working for my daily fare.

So I picked myself up and set about my daily routine. "Good morning Sir, the maps have been prepared, the teams are ready to move in we are awaiting your command." I looked at my eager assitant and gave the order. Today we will be responsible for the destruction of 500 acres of Amazonian rainforest, 1 native tribe will be displaced, hundreds of animals will lose their homes and some may lose their lives, a huge brown patch will be noticeable from space using Google earth and I will contribute to global warming as I do everyday. The work must go on......

My Daughter

BrassKnuckle2K8@gmail.com (Brass Knuckle) — Tue, 22 Sep 2009 13:50:00 +0000

I stared at her for a few minutes, bright eyes looking at me with uncertainty. Her head is unstable as I supported her neck with my hands. I peered at her with a scrutinizing look, searching for my features in her. The hair definitely mine, they say the lips also, the round face could be mine or her mother's, the wife says she has my eyes. I placed her on my shoulder and pat her gently, she makes herself comfortable pushing her head under my chin. The head is mine, she'll grow into it....later. I just hope she doesn't get teased like I was.

She sighs heavily as she wiggles around some more then settles down to sleep. Subconsciously she hugs me and hold on tight. Only a month old but already know that this is her safe haven, her protector. I hold her tightly and whispered a prayer to God. I thank Him for the life in my hands, for protection for her, for all the blessings he can/will bestow on her and for me to be a good father. Since she entered this world I've begun to pray more. The little things now matter, including my health. I want to live so I can enjoy her, I want to be there for her first word (hopefully dada), her first steps, all accolades and trophies she will collect, her wedding day and my first grand child.

My father did not live to see her, my mother cried as she knew he would have loved her more than anything in this world......

She lies there peacefully on my shoulder, oblivious to the actions around her, she is safe, protected, she is in the arms of her father.

Revealed

BrassKnuckle2K8@gmail.com (Brass Knuckle) — Tue, 08 Sep 2009 14:48:00 +0000

She sat in the chair breathing heavily, crossed her legs then uncrossed them, look up at the ceiling and let out a loud sigh. She crossed her legs again and vigorously shook her feet. Her eyes then settled on me, her stare pierced me like a spear made of ice. She began slowly as if searching for the right words to say (usually that was never a problem). "So.....you are Brass Knuckle? You are that lewd pervert who cusses and write a bundle of nonsense? Oh my God no wonder you wanted to meet Raptus to give her that turtle!!! You were planning to cheat on me!!!" "Honey that's not true I only wrote that Ice Cream piece for fun I swear there was no intention to cheat" I interjected. She paused for a while, tears streaming down her face "Why did you write those things? Don't you know how embarrassing it would be for me if my friends found out that my husband is a pervert? Did you not think of that?

She continued on for what seemed hours. I stayed silent through all of her rantings. I didn't know my writing were that bad, I never saw myself as a pervert. I thought I was exploring a creative part of my brain. I was channeling pent up aggression into something good. I was in a better place so I thought coming clean would have brought some sort of healing for us. I know I was distant for the past few months and I thought we could have both laughed at my efforts at creative writing and musings. I was wrong.

I got up and silently closed the room door, walked out of the house and into the cane field. I needed to clear my head, something about the rippled trench water provided that relief. I laid on the dam and closed my eyes as the cool midnight breeze gushed around me. Where did I go wrong?

BrassKnuckle2K8@gmail.com (Brass Knuckle) — Thu, 23 Jul 2009 23:16:00 +0000

dem seh it is good to talk to yourself sometimes.......problems does come when yourself answers back, especially when yourself doesn't agree with you and the argument start.

um....suh...

BrassKnuckle2K8@gmail.com (Brass Knuckle) — Sat, 20 Jun 2009 00:24:00 +0000

mercenary got another blog........this is complicated

awake

BrassKnuckle2K8@gmail.com (Brass Knuckle) — Sat, 20 Jun 2009 00:09:00 +0000

After a long sleep I'm awake. The world seem much different than it did a few months ago. Everything is a lighter shade of grey. Everything seems perky, even Raptus' breasts, which seemed droopy back then. I'm pissed I didn't get to send in an entry for CDV's short story competition but I had other things on my mind.

The world is a funny place with lots of funny people, not you Stolid, you de bass. I see Reuel announcing that he will make a post Living Guyana assessment of the blogosphere, who cares? I didn't post....much during that time.

I'm at a crossroad and I don't know which direction to proceed in, I won't be asking for directions though because that would be a loss of man points and would definately be an unmanly thing to do....according to Silver Dragon.

Frikken Soul Stealer stole my OMG! idea and pass it off as his own, him ass can't produce anything like that. I'd like to see him try. Fool thought I stopped blogging.........

Ah going by Edy's ....got a sudden urge for ice cream....wanna join me Raptus?

coolies............

BrassKnuckle2K8@gmail.com (Brass Knuckle) — Thu, 07 May 2009 18:26:00 +0000

i see some comments about indians being repulsed at being called coolies. well lets delve into the matter.

coolies or bound workers were brought to the caribbean to work on the plantations after slavery was abolished. bound workers as the term indicates were contracted to work for a specific time, under specific conditions for a specific pay package. bound workers included chinese, africans, indians and portuguese.

now why should indians alone be termed coolies (bound workers) when africans and others were also coolies. one reason may be because the term originated in india. however, indians are not the only coolies in guyana. i theorize that africans sought to demean the indians so they called them coolies, after all they were branded niggers by the white plantocracy.

i think we should all concentrate on dishing out some pay back to those white folks put us in the situation we're in...... on second thoughts its probably for the better that my ancestors were brought here. since they came from the poorest states in india, today probably might have been in a line to sell my kidney to provide ration for my 20 pickneys.

getting back to the topic......today many persons are bound workers (coolies), when you sign a contract to offer your services for a period of time you are bound to the company. if you break that contract you are penalized......nowadays monetary as opposed to lashes and was the norm in those plantation days.

peace

ah hah

BrassKnuckle2K8@gmail.com (Brass Knuckle) — Wed, 06 May 2009 22:18:00 +0000

i felt the insides so warm and soft. it was like silk engulfing me. i thrust further and further, deeper and deeper. i pushed so deep and i touched it. there was a sharp pain and i felt a hot sensation on my finger...........

indian girls

BrassKnuckle2K8@gmail.com (Brass Knuckle) — Wed, 06 May 2009 21:41:00 +0000

why all the beef bout them indian girls.....dem aint anything special .....how yall gon feel if i start commenting on black, chiney, buck or any other race of females. this segregation bizness shouldn't be promoted.

i hear black girls bitching, in a rather brawling backdam voice and language over one issue or the other (most times bout dem friend man) but dat don't stop me from looking at the goods. i tune out the voice/sound and concentrate on the ass.

stolid you too stupit .....you mussee let nuff coolie gyals slip through you fingers....you aint no playa .......

anybody play sudoku

BrassKnuckle2K8@gmail.com (Brass Knuckle) — Wed, 06 May 2009 21:14:00 +0000

that shit is addictive........it cutting in to my blogging time

today.........

BrassKnuckle2K8@gmail.com (Brass Knuckle) — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 20:14:00 +0000

I went to town to hand in me tax return.......dem ppl tek out $ 200 and give me. I ask dem whats dat for. Them seh that me need it fuh passage. Me get vex and seh me nah undastand. Dem seh dat based on me income tax return dem need to collect a special tax fuh me cause me way below the bread line. Me collect de money ketch a bus and guh home...................

Next time ah gots to be more careful wid me figures.

why is it ..................

BrassKnuckle2K8@gmail.com (Brass Knuckle) — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 20:07:00 +0000

now that I'm married, nuff gyals interested in me?

Redemption 2

BrassKnuckle2K8@gmail.com (Brass Knuckle) — Thu, 23 Apr 2009 20:55:00 +0000

Chapter 1
I heard a faint bang then the lights went out. I must have been in that state for what seemed an eternity. I slowly rose to my feet and saw her there, bent, clutching something, crying hysterically. I ambled over towards her trying to tell her to keep it down, I have a headache. I reached to touch her shoulder but it felt like my hands passed right through her. I then looked at what she was clutching, it was me.

It all came back to me then. The trip, my plan, the note and every little shit that made me do what I did. Like a rational human being, I tried to evaluate the situation. I needed to know if I could see myself; I could not. I needed to establish if I could see others.....like me. So I went out, not sure if I'm walking or flying but it was a pretty good pace. I decided that I wasn't too adventurous at the moment so I went back to the cabin.

Seeing her there, holdling me, made me feel somewhat guilty, I knew it would pass soon. I thought I would stay for my funeral before moving on to.....God knows what......literally. I didn't go to the hospital and I definitely wasn't making myself available for the autposy. I hung around the house looking at some of my enemies cringe as they try to say something nice about me without sounding too hypocritical. I thoroughly enjoyed that aspect of dying.

The funeral was surprisingly well attended, a few persons were crying. Others were lost in their own little worlds forgetting where they were. Sometimes a few giggles slipped out and that was followed by a few shhhhhs by those nearby. The pastor preached a touching sermon, I was actually moved to tears. Finally they put me in the ground as I took one last look at my body; I was quite the handsome fellow, never mind the little extra in the middle.

Chapter 2
I wandered around the cemetery after everyone was gone, it wasn't easy watching my own funeral. There were many things I left unattended, so many loose ends that needed to be tied up. I found a tall tree and made my way to the top. From there I could see a good portion of the city I once worked in. I never took the time to appreciate it while I was among the living. The simple sunset seemed so stunning, the way the little lights appeared in the townhouses as the night stepped in, the anxious sounds of the night critters rambled on for eternity. I sat there, reflecting on my life, my accomplishments, my failures and my pains. I closed my eyes and drifted off........to sleep.

I was awakened by the blaring horns of the commuters making their way to work, A new day in my .....death .....has begun. No longer was I tied to the funeral and needed to buzz about the home, I'm off to explore my new world.

I did not see any others like me for the three days since I passed and I' m begining to think I wont either. I did not see any bright light beckoning me, no demons came with pitchforks and chains looking for me, its just an eerie silence. Its like theres no way out for me. I decided I would go to church, maybe there's a central point you have to go to be picked up. I took all precautions to avoid stripclubs and bars......just in case.

Lazy Ass Stolid

BrassKnuckle2K8@gmail.com (Brass Knuckle) — Mon, 09 Feb 2009 18:56:00 +0000

That fucker told me he was going to add me to his blog list ages ago. Its all good. Just reminding yuh.

Redemption

BrassKnuckle2K8@gmail.com (Brass Knuckle) — Mon, 09 Feb 2009 17:53:00 +0000

Every June we would go up the mountain to spend time together. It’s not like we can't do that anywhere else but the air is better up there, its peaceful and it gives us time to really connect. It was a quiet place, the clouds floated by like little sheep, the stream gushing over a miniature waterfall, the amazing view of the forest canopy from the summit. It was nature at its best, you could hear the birds chirping, the wind through the trees competed with them, the frogs and a variety of insects joined in the noise making session. It was truly a paradise, a place to get away from it all, to renew our minds and refresh our souls.

Joanne was an angel; tall, short black hair, green eyes, fair, sweet lips and fair. Put a sword in her hands and you'll think she's a character from Final Fantasy. We've been married for 10 years and as with married couples we used this time to iron out our differences, reaffirm our love for each other and try to recreate the chemistry from our younger days.

We packed our bags into the newly acquired Suzuki Vitara and headed on our way. We took most of the essential items and as a frequent traveller I knew of everything we would need. The journey was strained and long, not much was said between us; only the changing of songs on the mp3 player interrupted the tranquil path we were on.

We got to the log cabin and unpacked our stuff. Actually I did the unpacking while she went to bed. It was twilight and I wanted to take some photographs of the sky. I showered quickly, kissed her on the forehead, grabbed the camera and scurried to the lookout point.

I took a few shots then sat on the bench I created a few trips back. Things were not the same, though we were here, our minds seem to be somewhere else. I just didn't feel the same.
I took in the setting, sighed and exhaled deeply, I knew what had to be done but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. The walk back to the cabin seemed never ending. My heart kept pounding in my chest like with wanted to escape, it wanted no part of what I was about to do.

I reached the cabin door and opened it silently, she was still asleep. I went to the table, picked up the revolver, spun the barrel a few times and placed it back on the table. I got out the pen and a piece of paper and scribbled a note saying how sorry I am for what I’m about to do. I picked up the revolver once again and headed towards the bed. I bent over her and kissed her on the forehead, took two steps backward, cocked and pointed the gun then fired........

C.D. I want a book also

BrassKnuckle2K8@gmail.com (Brass Knuckle) — Sat, 07 Feb 2009 19:24:00 +0000

A chance encounter

Pradesh was nervous; sweat was dripping from his forehead as he bent over her supple form. She laid there, eyes closed, oblivious of the trembling figure above her. The earphones were fastened securely to her ears; he could hear a familiar tune squeaking out of them as she moved in tandem with the rhythmic beat reverberating in her ears. He bit his bottom lip, admiring her beauty. Light skinned and curvaceous, she smelled intoxicatingly edible. He edged his trembling hands towards her thighs, closer and closer, shaking almost violently now.
The noises in the background was getting very distracting, he tried fruitlessly to block them out. He could hear his friends shouting, “Come on! Do it quick!!!!” Without hesitation he plunged his next to her thighs and withdrew it just as quickly. He heard a faint swishing sound, actually three.

He opened his eyes, taking his time to adjust to his surroundings, when suddenly he felt a harsh poke in his ribcage. “What the fuck were you thinking? You think you can feel up unsuspecting girls on the beach while they are sleeping? What? Are you like some kind of pervert or something? I have a mind to call the police.”

His head was throbbing, however, the pain in his side was subsiding. The figure before him was getting clearer and clearer. “What did you hit me with?” “My electric fly swatter, now answer my questions!” “Okay! Okay! Just gimme a sec.” He took a few deep breaths and began. “I saw you there lying peacefully, and I didn’t want to disturb you, so I thought I would just grab it quick and go away.” She stood there, perplexed. “What the fuck are you talking about? My patience is wearing thin.”

He clenched his fist tightly and felt it there. Good! He thought. “This! He said as he showed her the red rubber ball. “My friends and I were playing softball and I hit it over here. So while they continued to play with the other one, I had to retrieve this one.”
With her eyes downcast, mumbled “sorry I hit you but you really should have asked me to hand you that ball. A girl can never be too careful with all kinds of perverts and freaks lurking around.” Summoning all his courage he stammered “Well....then you owe me for my injuries....how about you buying me a drink and we call it even.”

She was about to tell him that he has some nerve but she stopped. She looked at him blankly and as if someone was controlling her, she responded in a strained voice “okay”. He was half-expecting her to shot him down so he was caught off guard by her answer. “Okay? Seriously? Am well here’s my uh number.” They exchanged numbers and names then he went on his way.
“What took you so long” Gairy asked. “Uh.....nothing.....just had a hard time finding the ball” he replied.

For the remainder of the afternoon, he kept replaying the encounter in his mind.........Ahuradha.

will the real brass knuckle please stand up

BrassKnuckle2K8@gmail.com (Brass Knuckle) — Thu, 08 Jan 2009 22:13:00 +0000

Another year comes as the old one passes
Many reflections, many wrong choices
Would I change the things I have done?
Would I right the wrongs I have committed?
Would I wish I was a saint.....
Piously searching my soul for impurities?

Who am I really, who is this brass knuckle?
Does my nature reflects my name?
Do I even matter in the greater scheme of things?
Or am I just another wanna be attention seeker
Trying to leave his mark.....one way or another?

What would you say I if told you I'm a Christian?
Would you scoff and say "thats impossible it doesn't suit your writings"
What would think if I told you I'm a happily married man?
How about me being a logical thinker, a perfectionist, an organised person?
What I if told you I'm meticulous , a great planner and an introvert?

Do you know who I am?
Do you know who you are?

..............................

BrassKnuckle2K8@gmail.com (Brass Knuckle) — Wed, 24 Dec 2008 16:02:00 +0000

the day of reckoning is here.
what have i accomplished for this year?
what new heights did i achieve?
what was my mount everest?
what was my burnt bridge?

i don't know much of success
i don't know why i'm here
i do know that i'm lost
lost and alone, lost and afraid
why oh why do i self scrutinize?

useless

BrassKnuckle2K8@gmail.com (Brass Knuckle) — Fri, 19 Dec 2008 19:16:00 +0000

what happens when the dust settles?
who will be alive?
why are we fighting?
who are our common enemies?

i don't know
does it matter?
no one really cares.
again no one really cares.

we end up wasted for no reason
nothing accomplished in our dark demented minds
we may have gained the world
but did we at the cost of our souls?

i wonder why i'm torn

should i forsake the plight of the poor
for the sake of money
should i take advantage of these vulnerables
so that i can win

i think not
i can not

so..............fuck it

let the chips fall where they may

let the chips fall.............

a fucked up place

BrassKnuckle2K8@gmail.com (Brass Knuckle) — Thu, 18 Dec 2008 22:49:00 +0000

you see the master is going through some serious shit right now. being a branch from his personality tree means that i'm also affected as well. i don't know if he can recover from this one and right now he at his lowest. i feel his pain and his fear. i know its hard for him to think straight right now. everything is disorganized and disoriented. the walls are closing in. the pressure is building up and theres no escape.

how will he recover? that i cannot tell. the man is a silent fighter and the battle will be tough. a loner he is. who will share his burden? i can't, i can only stand on the side line and watch him as he self destructs. until he's no more. then i'm no more.

a fucked up place......watching as you slowly die and knowing you can not do anything to save yourself.

i'm fucked