This is back when the first streetlight let you know you had about 5 minutes,
5 minutes to "get your black *** back in this house!"
"But, Mom..."
"Boy, if you but me one more time Ima come out there and wear you out!"
Think I'm playing...

And all along your homies laughing, saying "better get back in the house, don't wanna see you laid out, boy!"
We could never have fun. At least that's what we used to thought.
But there was methods to our mommas madness, cause every night a body got caught.
Without protection.  
But Moms was our confidant, our bully tamer, and our lethal weapon.
Against anybody.
Got a problem? She will solve it.
Her verse the whole neighborhood if she had to. She would be glad to.
And I am glad too, now that I look back.
In memory of my youth, the best times i ever had....

We're still staring each other in the eyes, it's nearing 6 am.
We're still in that dingy hospital room, us and 5 of our friends.
You're still a mess, and broken down.
I still wish it was from being loved.
I wish like you wish, that my love could make you real.

Where did the time go?
I nearly begged my father for more.
So, I gave you all of me.
The serious sides,
But it wasn't enough to settle scores.

It wasn't hard to give away, it was just more that you was searching.
I remembered your smile at me your eyes had made it worth it.
The baby smiled at our world with warmth and so much love.
Held your heart in his hands, promising no matter what, it will be safe in his touch.

Tonight you're alone.
We're all split up, for some reason.
You're back in your room having visions of the park we used to visit.
Where our love was literally made tangible by etchings inside of wood.
Our barks now crumble,
As things no longer seem so good.
"The gradual corrosion of what once was,
And what will never be, again."

-Lij.

when we hear the silence
in our closed eyes
direct it into our soul
let it conclude its work
become our consciousness

far from the world’s noise
if only for moments
in secret    with no audience
we become one
with nature quietly shaping our lives

on the first day of spring
my mother died

she had always loved flowers
and had turned
our interior hallway
into a luscious greenhouse
   father was not always happy
   about the falling leaves

in her later years
when skiing was no longer hers
she hated winters
   their long nights
   their waning sun

she was always longing
   for spring
waiting for the day
the morning sun lit up
the kitchen desk again
in her parents’ house
where she was born
   and had grown old

the night before
I had called and told her
that here in the south
the first flowers were already
   dotting the gardens

she had smiled on the phone
   almost inaudibly
speaking had become difficult

   maybe her last images
   were of colorful spring meadows

today at 7.10 a.m.
my mother died

spring has come

hardly a day goes by
without the news
of yet more suicide attacks
that **** mothers and children
     innocently playing in parks
     listening to their favorite songs
friends chatting over tea and coffee
expectant travelers on their way
     to business  family  or lovers

the perpetrators of such deeds
must be a very lonely crowd
with eyes as empty as their hearts
and frozen souls that harbor the illusion
       that cowards will turn heroes
       that killing innocents is brave
       that the world will recognize their great importance
            when they bring ****** ends to happy lives

it will not come to pass

no peace
     in this   or any other world
can find its way to them
who ****** in cold blood

perhaps it is the weather
a prolonged absence of the sun
or presence of the winter cold
or just a temporary fashion

the media as well as many webbéd sites
simply abound with dreary blather
     of lovers lost and death so cold
     the lonesomeness of every single soul
     and how s/he suffers when s/he writes
spelled out at length with no discretion

we know that people suffer from depression
or unquenchable anger at the world
and how through proper treatments
you can considerably relieve the pain

fix them in words is one of them
    but may not be enough
sometimes a mix of pills and pen
may do the trick and help you
    write yourself through your misty prison walls
    discover unlocked doors hidden in plain sight
    step out into the sunshine
        from the darkest night

you are the sun
    whose radiance illuminates the world
    lends brilliance to your life
    sheds light on everything you’ve done

and soon you’ll notice
even the weather is getting bether …

You damaged my heart slightly that night,
little pokes here and there,
And my blood is calling out to me,
wanting to be released.
And my razors are sitting smiling at me,
because they know my demise and
they love towhat they're seeing.

but I won't give in, I'm not that weak.

You wrecked my emotions slightly that night,
and it's a emotion crash
in my heart body and mind
"Crime scene" tapes hanging all around
because my happiness was killed
and along with it my laughter died.
And my tears are crashing against the walls of my eyes
because they too know my demise.

but I won't give in, I will not cry.

You took my sleep slightly that night,
staring in the dark,
creating my own sky
It's beautiful and so was I.
And my insecurities are awake
they're by my side
trying to hold my hand
and mock me tonight.

but I won't give in, tonight I'll smile
even if it's fake, I will smile.