Be still. The words I thought of when you were ill. I prayed with you every night, then God let me feel your heartbeat. Time was collecting your bloodflow. Heartbeat. Repeat, repeating the pain I felt that day when cousin' came in and said,"God took your mother up today."I was nine years old. You died about two weeks before my birthday. All I got was, packed up cardboard boxes with scotched taped ribbon that glistened in the sun as we made room for it in storage. Stored heartbeats. No one could take your place. The sad thing is I barely remember your face. Chemo. You had to take all those tests, and in the end they still cut off your left breast. Heartbeat. Time finally took your breath. Time ended our time. Why was it that after you died the doctor's found a cure to this genocide? I wish you were still here by my side. I was your baby. I asked the doctor if you were going to live, and all I got was, "maybe." Maybe you might come back someday. You used to appear all the time but then you drifted away. Heartbeat. I saw you laying in red. That red that, filled my eyes with hopelessness. I wished that red were still hanging in your closet in the dry cleaners bag, and the your aroma were in the stiches. After 7 years, I still can't believe you're dead. Even though you're not here, I think about you everydat. I ask a question that every child asks. "Why did God take my mother away?" Heartbeat. Time has finished this poem.

I am the *******,
and poetry is my ****.
slapping me around with its,
enriched vocabulary,
scarred vowels across my face.
A-E-I-O-U,
i owe you,
1 minute of sinful poetry.
I put a ****** on the mic so I
wouldn't pass off my poetic S.T.D.
infecting the dictionary.
but my grammar was incorrect.
after 9 months-
OOPS!
out comes the alphabet.
and when i gave birth to English,
you took it from me and created tongue twisters,
poetic metaphors that will have you,
speechless.
and I'm back at point one.
I am the *******,
and poetry is my ****.
scarred vowels across my face.
A-E-I-O-U.

For the past few days, my friend has been sick.
He hasn't been able to eat or drink without anything staying down.
It's gotten worse.
He's been stuck in the bed.
He was asked if he wanted to go to the hospital,
and he said no.
I feel like if I would have known,
He would be alive.
It could have only taken one conversation to change his mind,
Now he's dead,
and I want to go with him.
My friend Chloe sent me that in a text message.
She's going through depression.
She blames herself for her best friends death,
Because she couldn't get in contact with him.
She hasn't been at school for 4 days.
She's not answering anyones phone calls,
So I text her:
Chloe,
Now i'm in your shoes.
Your'e my best friend.
Don't slay your soul because a part of your life has disappeared,
I still need you,
Like you needed him.
Even though he is no longer here,
I can be your comfort zone.
This feeling should not choke hold your final decision,
Visions of your grave should not flash before your eyes,
Your'e only 17 and your epitaph should not be created yet.
Don't cut your life-line because his phone line is disconnected,
I'll be at the other end.
Instead of popping pills, lets pop conversations everyday,
I'll be your anti-depressant.
Life is too short for you to cut your life short because your best friend is dead.
I walked in your shoes,
Now it's time for you to do the same for me.
Tighten the laces,
and see how it feels when your best friend tells you she wants to die.
Chloe,
I was able to have this conversation with you.
I pray that it changes your mind because,
Losing a best friend,
Over losing a best friend,
Isn't worth it.

Soulquarians, gather round.
Hear my testimony. Representin’
Chi town to the fullest. Given the
Name Lonnie Rashid Lynn,
I earned the name Common.

I am, put on this stage for a purpose.
My verses give you, common sense.

I am, the role model to the past,
Present and, future. Being the
Loquacious man I am, I am,
Finding forever in you. So, keep me
In your mind because my time, is
Unforgettable.

Unforgettable I am. I speak with clarity.
Satisfying your starving eyes as I,
Feed you knowledge. I am,
That reflecting image in that young
Persons mirror. Watching them loose
Motivation.

And it’s sad cause’, we got arms,
But wont reach for the skies.
Our ignorance is in the same breath as
Our innocence, subconsciously, seeking to
Find an impressionable mind to convince.

I found one. Mani. One who is beautiful
And sweet. She told me, your lyrics inspire
Me. You are the rarest piece of finery,
And I would hate to lose you. She said,
Find forever in me. Lay upon me,
Your exquisite gift of poetry.

She said, I remember sittin’ in my room
With my boom box bangin’ so loud,
That your rythmatic vibrations caused
The pictures on my wall to form a
New image.

Listening to the game over, and over,
And over until my ears were filled
With beats that flowed from my pen,
And onto my sheet, of paper.

Papers, stacked so high with the words,
I love Common. Common. Nonsense,
Is what we’re seeing these days. So,
If you find the pursuit of passion,
Use it.

I am, here to restore our black maybe.
Cause’ maybe, we’ll get to the top
Someday. Instead of having our opinions
Stored away. Cause’ you see, common
Sense is quite rare. But, those that doubt
Com will soon believe. That-

This is where, Forever begins.
The start of reality. Wars and battles, we
Fought for ours, caught in ghetto tragedy.

Remember black brothers and sisters,
Origin is forever. Through these brown eyes
Are beholding black pride. So strive. Strive.
I, see my worlds tears, and I, want to wipe,
their weary eyes. I will be finding
Forever in you. I am Common.

Did you really think I could live with this?
Even though you didn’t protect me,
I trusted you.
Welcomed you with open legs,
And as your warm hand shook mine,
I could tell something was wrong.
My skin complexion became three words,
S.T.D.
Muscle aches and pains contracted from top,
To bottom.
No cure.
Everyday I have outbreaks,
Knowing that I can’t break out of this disease.
Burning leads to the nerve paths of my discharge.
****,
Began to ooze out like the secret you never told me.
Unlike you,
I was itching to try and make it go away,
But the itching turned into torn blisters.
Can’t cover up that disgusting smell,
Because if I do, it will only get worse.
Not that it was getting better.
These blue and yellow conversation bumps will never go away,
They just keep talking.
I trusted you.
But you only wanted me for your special needs.
Now I’m in an episode of symptoms
That keeps repeating every time I breathe.
Lungs, feel like hands that turned into swollen glands,
Squeezing,
Until it moves down to my stomach,
Causing me to throw up your guilt.
I should have known something was up when you refused to go get tested.
April 30, 2008,
I’m diagnosed with ******.

I should have known,
that you would leave me one day.
Our hearts were forced together as one,
even though we knew they weren't meant to.
One morning,
you left me-alone.
My heart was unbareable.
Bleeding tears,
I slowly placed it back in my chest,
and began to let the blood flow.
I should have known that,
you would do me like any other girl,
but i was too blind from that pearly white fake smile to..,
even let that sink in.
I was too caught up in the way you made me feel
when I was around you.
I should have known that,
that moment we had when,
I place my head in your chest and inhaled for the longest,
it would be my last deep thought of us.
They say love will do that to you,
but
I should have known,
you didn't love me.
I should have known that,
when we slowly stiched our hearts together,
I should have stopped sewing your lies into my body.
They were thicker than my blood.
How could I be so stupid?
I should have known,
I should have never let you mistreat me.

7 years ago, I lost you. Stopped the tears and engraved my mothers name into my arm to get rid of the pain, and remind me that this custom made tattoo would last forever. Haven't seen you in years. Why the hell aren't you doing your job? The one you thought would love you the most when you showed her how the needle worked. Injections, you, detected my fear as you dared me to a sample. So, I injected your seringe-based love into the veins of the center of my arm, and I loved every, single,dose. But then I soon snapped back into reality when I realized I was diving into hell with my father. Daughter, yours I am supposed to be, but I guess you can't handle what you donated to my mother. Why the hell aren't you being my father? Is it because I don't have your features? Your heartless ways or your dumb mistakes? I have your height, and, since you're not here, I guess you feel so small to where I should stomp you into the ground like a cigarette  ****; one puff and i'm tired of you. Why can't you accept me for Kimani? Is it because I chose not to let you mistreat me the way you did my sister? Or is it because the middle name you gave me doesn't fit me at all? Kichonne. But, never again will I be called by that name, for it reminds me of the way you used to treat me, like trash. I bet you, no, I know for a fact that if I was in the need of blood,you wouldn't give me one drop. You'd probably watch me die and say, "You were never my daughter anyway." Why can't you be a man? Step up and say, "I messed up", and try to be in my life again. Why? Is it because I look like my mother? Beautiful brown sugar coated skin with about 2% mexican? But, you won't dare look at me. Is it because, when she died you were not allowed to the funeral? But I saw you standing at the door,  and I had shame on my face because I couldn't cry on your shoulder. Why does it have to be this way? But, I want you to know that, if I died,you would be allowed to my funeral,just so you could see how your absence killed me. And when we're reincarnated, we will be father and daughter again, and you will love me for me. Why dont you love me?

When I look in the mirror,
I see,
The reincarnation of my mother.
Even though her eyes are now blue,
Instead of amber,
And her skin tone is now the shade of
Off-white instead of,
Caramel and honey,
I know she is there.
Even though her hair is now blonde with,
Conversation highlights instead of,
Silent midnight black,
This young lady speaks to me.
My mother is there.
I can see her,
Chemo vessels and her eulogy heart beating,
In rhythm to the number of days that she was alive,
16,790 solid.
She no longer has to look in the sun
For me to see the glare in her eyes because,
They now shine brighter than the 100million kilo-watt moon.
Even though her lips are thin
Instead of being filled with sugar sweet kisses,
I know, that this is her,
My mother.
She is no longer 5”8,
Instead she is 4”11,
Which makes it easier for me to place her into my heart,
And always feel her pounding into my nerves,
As though she were finally being revived.
Even though there was never a need for her teeth to be whitened,
They always shone brighter than stars.
This is a sign.
That we will be together again.
Even though her name is no longer La’Wanda,
It still clings to my memory.
Even though she is no longer here,
I see her face inside the shadow of another.
My mother…is there.

I always believed that when it rained,
God was weeping because a new angel was coming up to heaven.
Once,
God cried for two days straight.
His tears spread all over middle Tennessee,
leaving water everywhere,
like concrete that never dried....