crown is upon the throne,
As the full blue moon brilliantly glows
The queen is an epitome of royalty
So says Buckingham.
This is a little poem, which I composed for the famous, eyebrow raising and mind-blowing Buckingham palace situated in London, England. This is quite an amazing site, quite differing from the statue of Liberty and the famous gigantic statue of Jesus in Rio, Brazil. Those were my seventh and ninth wonders respectively, but this, right here, was the eight wonders of the world.
Its beauty was like you staring at a perfect art portrait done by one of my greatest men of all times, Leonando da Vinci.
A splendor of beauty adorned in glory with an extraordinary magnificent touch.
I could see the palace guards as they changed shifts from their respective guard posts. The land of Queens or better yet, I just would call it the queen’s territory.
Unlike Brooklyn, New York, which is known as the territory or hometowns for Dons, Mafias, and Capos, Dirty Business Tycoons, Drug Lords and even sex traders, London, England, was a whole new world entirely.
After staring at the magnificence and loveliness of the palace for quite some time, I had to board a taxi to my place of destination in search of a man whom I had always looked forward to meeting all my life and for the past seventeen years he had absolutely no hope of my existence.
The man called Gregory Obika.
Never again would I have to stare at the FBI or the annoying NYPD. Some gangsters in the hood dreamt they could put an end to this cops, but such dreams dare not come true or Arlington Avenue would only end up turning out to be a grave Town.
The streets of London looked clean, though they had the smart looking metro-politan police patrolling the neighborhood and stationed on some parts of the streets but they looked as gentle and mild as the snow. I called them the snow touch. This was very much unlike what you would see on the streets of Brooklyn, where every time we saw the cop, it was a black or white boy getting arrested. But right here that’s all different as both races walked peacefully without any arrest being made or anyone being disturbed.
We reached Merton, a small town in London, precisely at 7:20pm. The cab stopped at two hundred and forty-two Oxen Street, the residence of Mr. Gregory Obika.
I walked towards the brown door and pressed the doorbell. A slim tall white lady opened the door to attend to me. I showed her the picture of the man I was looking for, but did not mention his name, and before I could say any word, she banged the door at my face. Now that’s something you do not do to an Arlington lady.
The weather climate started changing, as little snow balls began falling from the frenzy sky. Well, New York also had a whole lot of snow but never had I felt so cold. I felt almost as if the snowballs here were more freezing than those in the United States were.
Out of great desperation, from the cold, I pressed the doorbell repeatedly and had no intention of stopping until I got a reasonable answer.
The same young white lady came out, but this time with an entirely different hair style; I wondered how she could change it so fast, she definitely ain’t Barry Mr. Fast, the flash guy or something. As I handed her the picture, she patiently stared at it and from behind her, a tall black man approached. It was Gregory Obika, my father; you had no idea what it meant to me to see my biological dad, and not the foster ones in Brooklyn.
Gregory, who looked like someone in his mid-fifties, received the picture from the white girl, stared at me with what looked like a disappointing frowned face. For a moment this made me wondered if I was at the right address. But the frowning face suddenly turned into a beautiful smile, as he asked me to come in, welcoming me into his home. He definitely must have had the idea of where the picture came from. He introduced me to his whole family and asked how my mama was fairing, but I only replied fine. ‘Finally some relief,’ I said to myself, as I was served a hot cup of tea.
The Obika’s was a simple and beautiful family. Gregory had already settled down with a white woman who is a classical dance instructor, ballet to be precise. The beautiful woman who hailed from Southampton had given birth to a lovely set of twins, who were now grown-ups, for Gregory.Now I could see why I kept pondering on a Barry flash guy, kind of thing on the team. Both ladies are identical twins except for the fact that Emily, who initially banged the door at my face, wasn’t quite friendly and had an all stre
At 8am, on December 25, I received a phone call from the United States, it was mama, and she had found me as she promised.She got my number from her best friend and prison mate called Medley. who has been sentence to jail for multiple hacking of different bank accounts worldwide. Though stinking rich yet, she had to serve her terms in jail.Mama’s voice sounded very well on phon
The dance Empire had greatly grown from a local street dance battle organizers to an international multi-million dollars dance entertainment company.As revealed by the internet, Mr. Tsung Lee, a very greedy and brutal Chinese multi-billionaire known as the king of Hong Kong, had become its new president taking over from its former president Mr. Bradley, the Canadian American. He had been the president for the past three years using his leadership and powerful connection to help the company grow bigger, stronger and ever bet
The next day came up so fast, after getting myself already prepared for the show, Dad called for a brief family meeting with all members of his household and insisted we all prayed for my success.I for a while really did not buy the idea. I wondered and reasoned in my mind ‘If the same God had created all mankind, why will he wanna go so bias, supporting one team over the other?’ However, Gregory noticed my reluctance and still insisted on my being a part of the family prayer.
The Rock Boiz, Evan Cole’s dance crew, has been on a low-key for quite some time. They had refused competing for the preliminaries of the World Dance Championship this time around.I wondered what could have caused one of the best dance crew in Uk not to compete at such a prestigious and global dance challenge, and also knowing how much was involved. They had a better chance of qualifying than any other British dance crew, and they had extremely wonderful skills on the dance floor.
The next day arrived and I had my bag all set for the journey, as dad started with some family prayers again, just then the doorbell rang, and kept ringing. It was The Prime, all set for the big finals in U.S.A.I gave my step mum Sarah, a big hug and my half twin sisters a good hug. I knew I was gonna miss them a whole lot, since we’ve really grown fond of one another. Mr. Gregory and Red Hair Harry’s mum drove us all in their vehicles to the airport. Finally, it was time to say goodbye and we just had to say th
Great power lies within the scepter and so is the image of the man behind the mirrors.It’s been more than six hours and yet there has been no sign of light, still trapped in a state of coma or would I just most preferrably say the world Nightmares. Trapped between both worlds, that of the dead and the living.I can hear a heartbeat, but I wasn’t sure whose heartbeat it was
This were the list of dance crews that made it to the semi-finals, the defending champions, the Invincible, the Black Dragons, the Red Scarlets, and then my dance crew, The Prime.I got discharged from the hospital, after just four days and for some good reasons worth celebrating the semi finals had been postponed for a week due to a heavy wind that rocked New York and part of the builings affected was the Base as it now needed some minor rennovations and the correction of some technical issues.