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laijon liu

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A Writer's Prayer
by laijon liu
Tuesday, February 02, 2010
Rated "G" by the Author.
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           >> View all 15

Choosing Fruit 

By Laijon Liu 20090902 


Fruit, all shapes and sizes 

Red, yellow and green… 

In every land and corner 

They grow to fill our space 


And we, human beings 

Live upon this food source 

So we plant them in our garden 

And bargain for them in market 


When I was a little kid 

My mom taught me a skill 

That every child must learn 

How to pick a good fruit 


Each their kinds are different 

According to their nutrients 

And their skin and sizes 

Do tell their story and state 


So now I am an expert 

A specialist on choosing fruit 

I read their color, feel their body 

Smell their scent to judge them 


And daily I go to the market 

Standing by the piled up tables 

Examining each of them 

Like some sort of ritual 


They should be natural 

No chemical or biocide 

They must not be hard 

And should be fully grown 


But sometime I wonder 

If we pick all the good ones 

Then where the rest should go? 

Those ones aren’t so perfect 


Those ones that ripe early 

That we didn’t catch up to gather 

And the ones were not ready 

But we plucked them off anyway 


And poor ones never met good soil 

Been sprayed every damn week 

And not to mention the ones were taken 

Tossed into our truck for a bumpy road 


What would happen to them? 

Those should be nurtured by nature 

And each of them ought to be perfect 

But tragically failed by our cause 


Should they just pile up on our stands? 

Laying miserably for a clearance price? 

And still be abandoned again and again? 

Then waiting their sad life to rot away? 


For all the years I picked the best ones 

To fulfill this concept of living 

But recently I’ve just realized 

That we are all piled up on the stand




Toilet, What A Sanctuary To Be

Laijon Liu 20090218


Toilet, what a sanctuary to be

Whenever files piled up on my desk

I can always come to you

To obtain a moment of peace


No one would dare to stop me

If I loudly pronounce your name

Whether they’re enemies or boss

For they must wait for your sake


You’re stuck with all kind papers

Political reviews help me to blow

Porn magazines satisfy my drive

And clean roll tissues all we need


I wish I have your mighty strength

That all people sit on you daily

And you can take whatever they dump

Without any complaints


I know I can always count on you

Your space, my venting place

Where I curse and where I pray

After, I’m clean, and rumors never leak


I think you are the most holy thing 

But why I don’t pay you much respect

Watching you sucking in all the shits

Isn’t it what world really need?


I hope I could adore you as my dog does

For he knows you hold the living source

And I pray you never fail to flush out

Or else, all hell breaks loose, and I’m crying to God




Angel’s Wings

Laijon liu 20090310


Last night, I dreamt of myself

Growing a pair of wings,

Liked the soft feather of swan,

A snowy flare in a green pond.


But to Lord I urgently prayed,

Not to grow a pair of wings.

I rather had a pair of red eyes,

And using eye drop for whole life.


How could I walk among people

with a pair of feathery wings?

They would call me a freak,

And despise my saintly look.


Would people greet me as an angel?

Or fear me and jail me as a demon?

For I would never see a bright day

Till all my feather are plucked away.


Oh, I never want to be an angel,

And I am scared to grow wings.

For angels are welcomed in dream,

But in world, oh, they must cut off their wings.


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