Team Clean Extremes poem

When outlooks are bleak and I'm feeling weak
Understanding is the only thing I seek
Even though I was expelled from college
I always thrive off knowledge

Catastrophes happen and i stay composed
This trait is a gift and curse I suppose
I'm glad I'm a king with a my queen, a pillar of strength
Don't think I'm cocky, that's not what I meant

She keeps me standing when everything around me crumbles
I always remember to make sure I stay humble
That pays homage to the way I was raised to be
I owe all i am to Roberta Lee Peay

I experience life in extremes
Famine, feast, kind, mean
Dirty, clean, red, green, manic, serene
This is one hell of a ride with Team Clean
I try my best not to be hindered by pride and things

I find it difficult asking for help'
I feel like I can handle anything by myself
I am a martyr, I am a menace
I am a sinner that prays for forgiveness

I will not lose
Prepare for war if my ego gets bruised
Are you confused
I am too

Fetishes Fantasies Fatalities (Romance Novel Synopsis)

I just started working on a new erotic romance novel from the perspective of a man.  This should be challenging and interesting to the say the very least.  Enjoy this synopsis and comment with feedback please...

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 Benjamin Hudson, a recently laid off massage therapist falls on hard times financially and finds himself facing a perplexing proposal from and older woman named Cynthia Stone, a potential benefactor who promises to pay off his debts and help him open his own business, as long as Ben upholds his end of the bargain.  Cynthia doesn't mind investing in Ben financially by being his sugar momma as long as he can satisfy her every waking need sexually.  It is initially awkward, but the arrangement becomes erotically enticing and beneficial for both parties.  Eventually, feelings get involved, which complicates the whole deal, not to mention the fact that Cynthia is a recovering sex addict and retired dominatrix.  When Ben begins to suspect her ulterior motives, bizarre events trigger a relapse, so Cynthia struggles as she regresses to her old ways.  This, in turn, tortures Ben throughout the whole exotic ordeal.   Benjamin is so conflicted.  While the experiences escalate exponentially, and he endures the madness and punishment, Ben enjoys the eroticism.  His torture is arduous mentally, yet erotically extreme physically.  Ben knew having a demanding and dominating sugar momma as a madame or mistress wouldn't be simple.  He is
astounded and frightened, however, after he discovers Cynthia is not only a wild sex fiend who's into all sorts of kinks, but also a serial killer in hiding and secretly on the run from an overzealous FBI agent by the name of Rhonda Banks.  Benjamin is unimaginably confounded and astounded as he encounters conflicts with Cynthia and Rhonda.  Benjamin is a very confused man.  He doesn't know whether to be aroused, afraid, or both...

Another Excerpt from my old spy novel manuscript.

I'll likely be making major modifications to this spy novel manuscript i worked on years ago.  Mainly I'm considering switching it from first person POV from the perspective of the 4 main characters to third person omnipotent POV.  I had originally intended on posting it as a series on JukePop.com but now I'm thinking it may be a better idea to publish it self publish it directly to Kindle via Amazon.com

Enjoy this free sneak peek....


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November 1, 2005-D.J.

            My new burgundy Mitsubishi Galante was in cruise control zipping down I-95 towards Miami.  I used my knees to steer he car while rolling the third blunt of my short road trip from Okechobee.  An instrumental version of Cypress Hill’s Insane in the Membrane chimed out on my cell phone.  I looked a he caller ID.  I read Black.  He was one of my friends from Okechobee.  I turned down my classical music to answer the phone.

            “Yo, Black.  What’s poppin’?” I asked.

            “Hey, DJ.  Wassup?  I stopped by your place earlier, but you wasn’t there,” Black said.

            “I told you last week I’d be outta town in Miami for a couple days on the firs of the month.  Black, you smoke too much homes.”

            “Word, but you’re one to talk.  I be you’re burnin’ right now.”

            “Ha ha.  Of course.”

            “What you got going on in the MIA?  You hittin’ up a party?”

            “Bad, I might hit a few clubs as well, but I’m really here for that casting call they’re doing for the new season of the Real World.  I sent in an audition tape, and they called back.”

            “Bad, say word?  You’d be perfect for that show.  You’re quite an interesting character.  You might be too real for the show though.”

            “We’ll see.”

            “I called ‘cause I was hopin’ to cop some reefer, but you ain’t around so….”

            “Well, you can call Doc.  He’s usually holdin’.”

            “Man, his shit is garbage.  I can’t smoke that Bobby Brown.  It gives me a headache.”

            “I guess you’ll have to make due.  Try C-Money.  His green is aiight even though his sacks always weigh out light.”

            “Bad, you’re right.”

            “Imma let you go.  I’m a little behind schedule.  I gotta get to this hotel before they close auditions.”

            “Okay, I’ll holla.  Peace.”

            “War.”

            I arrived at the Holiday Inn near South Beach in the nick of time.  I introduced myself to Bruce Copeland and Nicole Bush, two of the show’s producers.  They escorted me to a conference room where a camera crew was waiting to film my interview.  I sat in a comfortable chair in front of the camera.  Bruce and Nicole gave me my cues.

            “Okay, we’re rolling,” Nicole said.  “Don’t be nervous.  Speak clearly, and look into the camera.  Don’t worry about making mistakes.  We can edit the footage later.”

            “Start by introducing yourself and telling us a bit about yourself,” Bruce said.

            “My name is Dewaun Jenkins, and I’m eighteen years old,” I said.  “I’m from Okechobee, Florida.  It’s a small town, but I ain’t your typical small town guy.  I’m kind of a modern-day transcendentalist.  Don’t let the big word fool ya.  That’s just a little something I picked up in a humanities class I took in high school.  I’m a real nonconformist, but I can relate and mingle with folks from all walks of life.”

            “Very interesting.  What do you do for a living?” Nicole asked.

            “I, uhhh…..” I hesitated.  Drug dealer didn’t seem like a plausible answer.  “I’m currently unemployed.”

            “That’s fine.  Just tell us an ideal career you invision for someone like yourself,” Nicole said.

            “Okay, I’ve always been intrigued by the private investigation profession,” I admitted.  “I think that’d be cool, but……”

            “But what?” Nicole asked.

            “I’m a real thrill seeker.  I’d want to do it on a grander scale,” I answered.

            “What do you mean?” questioned Bruce.

            “You’re going to think I’m a silly goon, but I was really into James Bond movies as a kid,” I started to explain.  “I always thought it’d be cool to somehow combine private investigation with the field of espionage.  It could be like a spies-for-hire firm that handles controversial cases the other Alphabet Boys won’t touch.”

            “That’s a unique idea,” Bruce commented.

            “I think it’s a stupid idea, but a boy can dream, right?” I added.

            “That’s true,” Nicole agreed.  “Dewaun, why don’t you share one of your most embarrassing experiences with us?”

            “Sure.  I actually spent some time in a mental hospital recently,” I told them.

            “Really?  How did that happen?  Are you crazy?” Nicole inquired.

            “Do I look crazy?” I laughed.  “It’s a long story.  To make is short, my big brother had me committed.  The doctors tried to analyze me and mentioned something about a chemical imbalance in my brain, but there were not enough symptoms for a legitimate diagnosis.  I was released with a fairly clean bill of mental health.”

            “Alrighty then.  One more question, Mr. Jenkins.  Why do you think we should pick you to be on the Real World?” Bruce asked.

            “I’ll keep it short,” I promised.  “I don’t like to toot my own horn, but I’m the shit.  Enough said.”

            “Okay, we have all we need, Mr. Jenkins.  Now, we need you to sign a release form.  Even if we don’t pick you, we might use footage of you for a casting special that will air before the season premier,” Bruce explained.

            “That’s fine,” I consented.

            I left the audition feeling relatively confident.  When meeting someone new, I was always mindful of the last first impression.  That basically means you don’t get a second chance to make a first impression.

Team Clean 2016

   This year has gotten off to a very stellar start.  Coming into the New Year, I anticipated 2016 would be a breakthrough year for me professionally and personally.  I rang in the New Year by signing a contract with the serialized literature website www.channillo.com to produce a MMA web series thriller titled Worth The Fight.  That alone was great news to kick off things.  Then I completed and submitted my Must Be Nice 2: Defining Moments of a Maniac manuscript and submitted it to my publisher.  America Star Books accepted my manuscript, and I signed the contract to have it published today. I'm guessing it'll be on book shelves and on Kindle in 3-4 months.  That's two big reasons I feel blessed in 2016.  Also, a little over 6 months ago I met a wonderful women named Brandi who has been a real pillar of strength for more.  As your love unfurls and grows, I thank God to have someone so caring and supportive by my side to affirm my ambitions and inspire me to be a better man and father.  She has played a big role in my sobriety from hard drugs.  It hasn't been easy, and I still encounter challenges as my sobriety is only in its infancy, but I'm proud to say I've had 45 days clean which I never imagined could be possible for me.  I used to party pretty hard if you don't know.  After a dozen years of going as hard as I did, it feels good to embrace things in life to be grateful for, mainly a good family woman like Brandi. Without her, none of this would be possible.
   Other projects I'm working on this year include a spy novel entitled The Smartest Phone which will be available as a series on jukepop.com in a about a week.  And once my Channillo web series Worth The Fight is complete in a couple months I will submit a Red Reaper web series to channillo.com  I'm also actively seeking out artist to illustrate Worth The Fight and Red Reaper, and I've only had minimal success with that thus far.  I found one interested party whom I haven't heard from in regards to illustration in about a week, but I'm being patient.  I'm very excited about doing a sports talk podcast which will be available starting February 2016.  I'm hoping The Patrick Peay Show will also be available and aired on ShoutBoxRadio.com assuming negotiations with their CEO don't stall.  I'm pretty sure I'll be interviewed for a second time on JP Explains It All via Shout Box Radio in the next couple weeks.  The next daunting endeavor I plan on tackling in 2016 is starting my on DJ business.  That's right.  You heard it here first.  DJ Queasy is making a comeback in 2016.  I hope I can get a few gigs hear and there, maybe an event or two with Shout Box, something at a small venue in Jacksonville Beach would be nice  I'm tentatively planning on producing a mix tape in conjunction with local artist to be released in the Summer or Fall of 2016.  I may even get on the microphone and record a few new original tracks myself, who knows.  So that's what I got on my plate this year.  Be Blessed...


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It Feels Good To Be Patrick...

I don't think my peers understand where I'm coming from
The coldness within me makes me feel so numb
Restless nights are filled with racing thoughts
Battles are fought daily to avoid being distraught

On thing is for sure, I'm not typical
The rumors of my trials and tribulations are a but mythical
W hen i look in the face of death, I'm not scared
I've been critically conditioned by burdens I've beared
dUnjust convictions must be appealed
I might be my own worse critic
I don't want this world to make me a cynic

I don't own slaves, but I feel like the Master
Kids these days are growing up faster
90's Babies still have no sense
They may be the death of us all in the end

My burning desire is hotter than plasma
These words should take your breath away like asthma
I'm the antithesis of status quo
When you swim against the tide, why go with the flow

I am unique, I am not practical
I often enjoy a reclusive sabbatical
So sit back and watch me work my magic
Right now it feels so good to be Patrick

The Death of Me

The risks that I take make statements

Trials and tribulations test my patience

I don’t want to stress as I digress

I might be blessed to be in the mess  

Grandiose schemes aren’t just pipe dreams

Justified means ensure I will be redeemed

Delusional delinquency may be the death of me

Half of me is sane; I don’t know about the rest of me

This may be the recipe; work then rest

I don’t let the work work me nonetheless

Maniacally laid plans just might work

I will rest in peace when I’m in the dirt

I don’t want to go to sleep; I don’t want to rest

I’m not stressed when I’m at my best

The company I keep keeps me encouraged

I always eat, so I’m never malnourished

I’m in another realm of feeling overwhelmed

I’ve been beyond the brink of how low a man can sink

I’ve been higher than the stars in the sky

Sometimes I want to die, and I don’t know why

Highs and lows, that’s just how it goes

I just take notes and get lost in my prose

Pros and cons are weighed on the regular

This world is full of prey for predators

I am a predator, I pray for my competitors

I mince metaphors, I don’t mince words

I’m my own editor, I rework words and move forward

Surreal World #writerslife

Back on the grid, back in commission

Though my last mission nearly beat me into submission

So much ridicule, it’s quite ridiculous

I can reach my pinnacle if I am meticulous

Prejudices are perpetrated against the mentally ill

With all this fake shit in the world, it’s so hard to keep it real

Yet I strive and crusade for the revolution still

My allies are maniacs, and my secret weapon is will

I know not the purpose of this daunting endeavor

I don’t know if I seek to innovate, motivate, cause shock and awe or whatever

I’m not sure if this is stupid or if it’s really, really clever

I’ll keep things light, light like a feather

Mom says I’m a rebel and self-saboteur

When it comes to this writing craft, I’m no amateur

The truth is I’m ruthless

My true friends already knew this