ten minutes ago
i was talking to a woman
whose background i'm
aware of

this woman was pretty and she looked
at me with ****** interest

however: i moved my left arm in
a way that is related to my background as
a fatherless boy

rejection in her eyes the consequence

BUT:

i will never stop to move my arms as i learned moving them
–– precisely this way –– in my childhood

nobody –– male female animal or object –– is able to change this:
i do not need anybody trying.

feel me. that's how i am.

self-acceptance. self-love. courage.

"hell yeah?" the burglar asked the pusher.

(the burglar: wirily, ambitious. plain appearance, dressed in black.
the pusher: wealthy, strong and well-conditioned. sumptuous leather jacket.)

"hell yeah", the pusher answered. "now i got what i like and you got what you need."

both grinned. after a day of extensive work, they relaxed in a hellish pub. it was visited by diplomatic creatures whose faces were recognizable like shadows.
this pub was called babylon 8.

the burglar and the pusher touched glasses to celebrate their deal. they drank.

"nothing to be written down",
the pusher added. burglar nodded. voices of the diplomatic creatures surrounding them; satanic sighs; bold laughter; their sentences sounded like orders that are dictated by judges.
  
snakes and rats. gravelpitbulls and red cats. creatures with excellent memory. guys who swallow their plans after they had learned them by heart.

a while later, a lady entered the pub: adorable like a man's fantasy; imitable like a woman's strategy. her hair color was your desire; her skin color the color of your dreams.
her name was fantasy girl.

suddenly, the lights went out; suddenly, a lightblue sun illuminated the room. no one noticed. everyone so busy hiding something that nothing was hid.
the creatures of babylon 8 therefore didn't perceive the light.

fantasy girl ordered a drink. she told the bartender: "i need freedom. that's what i want from you, the people of babylon 8."

the bartender a giant with a face full of shining scars; his right ear missing; flashy shirt; an ancient first name; speaker of all world languages combined: the omerta.

fantasy girl took a sip from a silver brew which had been served to her by the bartender. she took out a single match and there was no box; a long cigarette between her unknown lips.

bartender looked at fantasy girl. without saying a word, he turned his stubble cheek into her direction. fantasy girl lighted the match.
lightblue fire. inhaling. smoke. iceblue cloud.

the burglar and the pusher had been looking at fantasy girl all the time.
fantasy girl held a white fountain pen and took a black sheet out of a green handbag. she began to write.

writing without music is like











eating without food

there is a cage
inside this cage
there is a man
inside this man
there is his soul
inside his soul



ghosts are debatting
about the pros and cons
of darkness and light

between three oceans
silver rocks and the desert
is a place

undiscovered;
a secret that no one knows about
hidden so openly:

a secret right in front of
your eyes.

it's never cold there
it's never hot there

this place is populated by
only one creature:

GOLEM

countless nights
the same dream:

awaking in black water
dressed in jeans and a
rugby-shirt

legs under water so i
am trying to protect my
cell phones from

damage

family:
nothing worth more

i am listening to my
people's words

i am listening

i am
i will be

monday next week would
have been my last day
inside the rehab

today i was told by another patient
that he has nothing to lose
anymore

he confessed to me what he
might do very soon

it was horrifying!

i will not write about it

therefore I am going to
leave here today
in the evening i'll be
meeting good-hearted people
who believe in a
power much bigger than
all of us

a good man does the right thing
that's why i want the good in my life

may god bless us all.

the ward physician said
to an addict: YOU are going to relapse
anyhow

the chief resident told
me: if you want to have  
the numbness in your
right shin examined
you are free to leave

my reaction was a
calm one

no resentment because
i found something
inside the rehab
in the addict's stories

in their human faces
i found a healing secret

righteousness
care
siblings

mom
dad
son
wife

eden

are built by






human beings

have you guys
ever been to
großburgwedel?

it's in germany

i am there right now
to have my right leg
examined

sure: it's raining
the sky is grey
and all that
well well

but one thing i am
certain of:
i wouldn't come here again
except i want to gain
certainty

i have nothing against
the people
from großburgwedel

i simply don't want to
live in grey lands:

grey faces
grey voices
and many right-winged persons

I LOVE COLORS
I LOVE THE GERMAN AND THE ETHIOPIAN FLAG
I LOVE MY BI-RACIAL FAMILY

kiko i'm breathing
your lust's air
storms of our lifes
and our pasts

we share childhood memories
we sleep together
we feel each other

we are one body now
a body made of
two halves

we are one person now
no need to hide anything

playful lights
warm winds open windows
the ocean inside our body

we are coming together

long ago
the dead would drink
from a certain river to forget
their mortal lives

shades and silent voices
populated blank shores
as the dead patiently
waited to forget

their memories vanished into
thin air
yellow heavens
sparkling bits of color
would lighten up
the dark lights of day

shadows scurried from place
to placelessness
voices sighed and you couldn't
tell if it was the sound of last breaths

gökhan is turkish
it means: ruler of heaven

first time i met you:
september 3rd 1993
first day at school

we looked at each other
we wanted to sit together
we became friends

how sturdy you were
people always thought you
were much older
but me?

i had a babyface
hated my babyface
wanted to look older due to my
fatherless childhood
always wanted to be my own dad
wouldn't work though

so gökhan became my daddy
father figure and protector
i looked up to you my man

ruler of heaven

six years later you died of cancer
i rushed to the hospital
countryside germany

when entering your room
aware of your death
i saw your stiff body

and you were smiling
i will never forget that
gökhan

an african-turk growing
up in germany 1990s
called gökhan tatchouop
lost the battle against cancer
sixteen years old

and he really died with a smile
because he was a good man
who did the right thing

as i get older year by year
i could be gökhan's dad by now

you're with me

our car is burning and there is nobody
to drive it
our car is going in circles


8

been living in a rehab
fifth day
telling myself: don't relapse


STAY

you want to stick
around don't you?

you wanna be part
of our crowd?

well you gotta
learn something now;
it's painful like ****

you'll never be one of us
you'll never be one of us

don't ask and don't try
a second time
we know your family
we know where you live

we won't say a word:

omertà

did you really believe
that time would stop?

did you really believe
we could get away with
it?

did you really believe that
mom couldn't express the
word "sin"?

did you really believe that?

we were invisible
we were invincible

we were dreamers
we were sinners
we were brothers
who had forgotten
how to write
their own names

do you really believe
that our past would
forget about us?

you can forget our past
our past won't forget about us

do you believe in
anything my brother
my sister?

your warm heart
is the pulse of my life

the sweetest speech is when
i speak to you anna

my salvation
my destiny

the sweetest blood is
your blood anna

your warm heart
is the pulse of my life

the pulse of my life
is your warm heart

my savior
my salvation

the pulse of our lifes
are our hearts

travel with me
i will take you away

forever anna
anna forever

a: absolute love
n: neverlanddreams
n: no other woman
a: absolute love

your name is a
frame

your reflection a
painting

anna+tizzop
tizzop+anna

and this white page has become a bole
our lovenames are engraved in wood

and wood never sinks in water

repression is a matter
of trust

if they'd trust me they
wouldn't repress me

yet they don't trust
me

there is no right
life in the wrong one

...is a purple curtain

behind this curtain
is your flesh

behind your flesh
is your ego

behind your ego is the real you
we've been on a journey
like grandpa and grandmom
take me away
take me to the place of the real you

they call me a half-caste
yet i'm a whole human being

my grandpa was a black slave
my grandmom a white writer

they came together
they stayed together
unwavering love

till they died:
first grandmom who was suffering from
a writer's block
ridiculously white paper she
couldn't cope...

after she had passed away
half an hour later grandpa
took his last breath pressing
his face
against her
stiff face

after a long and full life they
joined their ancestors in death

i was thirty-seven at this
time and their only heir
i received a letter containing their
will

a black sheet
one sentence white ink
and by the handwriting i could tell
they had written the will with
two hands and one pen

what do you think the sentence was
about?

don't push my desire to
write regardless
  
if i am about to write a
poem
song
short story
novels

hand me a shovel
will you?

i need to dig now
i need to dig deeply

no stress my dear
baby-faced sweetie

imma eat you
i need you

log me in
i need...







...to be logged in

please understand my
behaviour as a sign of
rejection

no one no
one no one
no no one

is entitled to judge
me

really: no one

(except my family and
god feel me)

wuof
wauwau
wfff grr

wf wf wf wf
grr
wau grrrr wooph
gr grr grrr wau
wau




wauwf
grrr

willpower
doubts
self-esteem
insecureness
strength

a fighter fights:
day against night

that's why i want
the good in my life

that's why the game of the sun
will not harm me

dear love i need you to
fill my soul you feel me...

yours sincerely
tizzop

antwone the gang leader always
be like: imma make a call; two
minutes and they here

regardless what the issue about:  
antwone always about dat
(and they always come for sure)

me? i ain't made for that
me just tizzop
ain't belong to antwone's
brotherhood

even if i wanted to:
they wouldn't let me

dem dudes roll heavy
while i note down outsider dreams with white ink on
black pages
you feel me?

antwone's dudes addicted to
drive-by-shootings
i'm deep inside; yet no part of that;
my handz not made for glockz

my hands are made for pens;
i'm from the ghetto; who cares?
my hands are made for pens
and if i'm broke i will
write with sparkling fingers

that is for certain therefore my death will be silver
my eyes be shiny like gold then
god is always by my side

you feel me god? good cause i feel you god (HEART)

last breath: tizzop's dead body will be floating on air
because a good man does the right thing (i want to be good)
dead brotherhoodlums be munched by icy blacktop
you feel me?
eternally doomed down there without air
i won't be there  

i am from the ghetto
who cares?  
my hands are made for pens

* WRITE TO SURVIVE

females
lovers
yachts

forbidden fruit (eden)
little hole (eve)
Yahweh (tizzop)

friends
luck
yack

turn every letter around turn warriors
into choirboys allergic against weapons

turn vampires into
humans

turn around: somebody behind you
spying each letter you gotta

be better
don't turn the page NOW
the paper'd simply fly downwards into hell
with you

besides: the book of your life will end soon enough

the last game of the
sun

was meant to burn us
all

so we stayed
inside

pure so
pure purely pure

heavily addicted couldn't
stop even for an hour or
so i became a lie living a life
of lies;

me the lie gave birth to following
lies which caused a clash:
i against i

soon the addict within me wanted to
die he longed for the excellent
death

made me jump on the outer window-sill fourth
floor toying with ideas
enjoying ideas

didn't wanna live anymore
longin' for the excellent
death

yet here i am
remaining
standing

i will remain
i will be remaining
i will have remained surviving each form of
the excellent death

cause you know what???
******* death!
god already planned everything.

it's logical and more than anything else it's
love

i see you god daily in my children's
smile
and every day we look at each other for a
while

you're my reason to smile you're the reason to
laugh although i could
cry

I WON'T DIE

true inspiration is hard to
find since inspiration will
find you

don't you sleep ever again; you
could miss something

three husbands
three wifes

don't try to find 'em as
they will have found you
long before nighttime

somewhen in-between-time
yeah baby i know it's fighttime

but don't try to opppose your
destiny as you've been watched
by satellites / surveillance cams /
your friends and your aunts

they're not against you
yet none of 'em is gonna thank you
for nothin' you feel me?

believe it or don't: by the end of the
year YOU gonna say: thank you

welcome to the
you-place

tizzop is the lover of
a single mother  

years ago tizzop
knocked at our door
nighttime the remains of
day splattered across the floor

when you think of tizzop:

think of your last
déjà vu and what you
felt
think of early immigration:
the german belt

tizzop: a combination of
people lovin/people hatin'
pride of a nation yet
last letter standing in a
poem without ending

long time ago tizzop
knocked at our door
nighttime the remains of
day splattered across the floor

tizzop hungry; he asked for
food while slowly taking his hat off
to my mom; she delighted since she
saw into the eyes of a warrior acting
quite politely

then tizzop fainted and fell on
the floor obviously he was starving
mom fried some chicken

later at the table tizzop gobbled
bonez'n'skin;
the more i looked at tizzop's
traits the way he moved his
cheeks and chewed his food
i sensed that we were  
kin

nobody talked: familiar
silence filled the room

the more i looked at tizzop's
bossy smile and his
black teeth i was
reminded of something

like the déjà vu of a  
déjà vu

strong connection between
tizzop and me: he
stayed at our place and soon became

my brother
little by little mom turned him
into her lover

wanted to **** him but
didn't
**** it this poem gotz to be
hidden

dear poetry
i have to tell you
something

there's something i
need to tell you poetry:

;-)   OINK   ;-)

just wanted to say
hello... ehrm [deep sigh]

"hello poetry!"

behind a dark curtain
you're going to find
the lord of the blind

the lord of the
blind isn't able to
walk and talk

like others; well
you'll miss him when
he ain't there

who is he the
lord of the blind?

what remains if












nothing remains?

would you mind telling
me the answer to all the
questions i'm
having ?

every day
every hour
every minute

every time you
are blinking an
eye

i can't answer most
questions by myself

you feel me?

i need you to
learn what the
world is made of

you feel me?
i mean don't misunderstand
that baby

it would just be great
having somebody
answering

what's the weather
like?

what time is
it?

which date is
today?

and most importantly:

where is the
love?

will you protect our
heritage?

will you tell mom the
truth about us?

would you die for
me when they shoot at
us again?

last time nine
bullets hit me as i hustled
to save
tizzop

dear mr. president do
you know

timothy & bao
ikram & erhard
puja & timon
folami & leonardo

shannon & kavi
kenzō & shaquille
meklit & aleksej
gabriela & hugo?

they all work hard to
make a living

honor diversity america
has been a great team

four years ago a
three-year old astonished millions

twenty-seven years later
pe’tehn raighn-kem
will have become
president of the united states

may ayim
african-german
poetess
essayist

co-established the
term "black german"
decades ago

until then germans would
call a person of color a "neger"
(and too many still do so)

however one
of the most inspiring
talents
took her own life:

august 9
1996

that's it.

god bless you
may ayim

damals meinte bonez:
"ey wir sind bald stars!

und jeder aus der gruppe übernimmt
sein'n part" (he)

er hat zu mir gesagt:
"setz dich hin, schreib bars! (los)

"denn von den meisten
gangsterrappern stimmt kein satz!" (nä)


back in the days bonez
told me:

"we gonna be stars
every one of us
gonna write his part" (nä)

he told me to sit down and write
bars (aight)

cause german rappers be
phony (nä)

one hit right here
hit right here
hit right here

went through right
there

feel me?
hit up here n###a!

we really in the hood tho
we really with this ****

n###a this **** ain't for
play play this **** ain't
for fun we

really do
this **** we

really live
this life

!

son
far away

daughter
far away

stray old
buddy stray

pray think
come back

stay

ashima abraham
teenage girl
needed love
desperately

she thought the reason for her
despair might been her longing

while her longing was nothing but
normal and the origin of her
despair might been
fear

one day she met an older guy
his name **** black he a
forensic officer

investigators like him look for
traces under dead body's fingernails
stuff like that

until ashima met **** her
love was exclusively reserved to
her pitbull
his name was branko

a fearsome creature

in england they say
"get me?"

in the us we say
"feel me?"

you get what i
feel?

****, i'd die for you
****, i'd die for your
justice

get it baby