Wednesday, December 12, 2012

saved from the dragon

on the edge, papercuts
saved from the dragon
the beard growing long
a glacier and a mountain
if only I knew time
all life began in autumn
the colours of a leaf
weighing on my shoulder
no false expectations
winter is to come
erratic affection
I hope for spring

Friday, November 23, 2012

I turned the pages

I turned the pages wondering
Whether I should eat them
Letters without sense
You invented the game
I changed the rules
And braided my hair
Burned your necklace
Into my skin
I soaked the flowers on my shirt
They would not grow nor wither
You opened the door and
My windows turned dark

only to be closer

before you I am
all vulnerable
cannot hide
the depth of my water

the sun
makes the river smile
evaporates its water
only to be closer

one day
earth was wrapped in clouds
hiding the sun
all rivers were gone

Thursday, November 22, 2012

hold on

lay your hand into mine
small and fragile
how could I fix
the leak of your boat
but  hold on
to the pulse of time
dragging my boat
through calm and storm
yours in tow
I will drag it
no matter how long
into waters of hope

Sunday, November 11, 2012


Are we falling
Apart in a dream
All hesitation
Autumn leaves
Wrinkled edges
Hot summer nights
Leaving their marks
A stamp of a moon
Look at me
Smiling, maybe 
I walk alone
When you 
Come along

Sunday, October 21, 2012

The book of leaves

I read the book of leaves
Every night
Telling something new
Filigree lines
Embracing all poems
Made by humankind
These ones
Were collected by you
A collection of blue
In a purple ocean
If I set them free
Your breeze
Would turn them into kites
Dancing in circles
A melody
Only the oldest tree
Might have ever heard of

Friday, September 28, 2012

a sky without moon

the depth of my well
take a glimpse
over the rim
dark water
a sky without moon

Thursday, September 27, 2012

sometimes shaken

sometimes shaken by this steadiness
earth keeps turning around the same kind
in each morning’s encounter of absentness, eyes
looking slightly passed my steps, the man
who sleeps behind the smell of trash containers
I almost fall
over the dirt, while cows keep chewing plastic
with this sturdiness, big black birds land on their backs
a few metres up the road, a tiny old woman sits
on her wagon of vegetables, people buy
meat, freshly slaughtered fish on ice,
nothing stays long
in this heat, except for the smile of the guard
waking all night, walking into my dim room 
with bright eyes, making me wonder, how on earth
can I be sad

Monday, September 24, 2012

full dissolution

all is
desire for union
longing for life
artistic expression
sexual passion
spiritual longing
union with god
full dissolution
journey to nowhere
we whimper
we strive

a lake that swallowed the sun

you are just one
your scent
are the flowers
the sturdy ones
they never die
i touch
all leaves in my garden
with quivering fingers
sensing your skin
i see a bright moon's image
in a lake that swallowed the sun
rain touches my face
melted glacier dew
cooling my fever
salty lips of an ocean
i imagine
without, i cannot survive

Thursday, September 13, 2012

giant wave

a giant wave
standing at the shore
all save
i overthrow you
take you
into deep water

A glacier fighting

A glacier fighting
against melting and then
the entire avalanche
comes down.

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

blue flowers on a wall

world of dreams locked away
how to access those sacred places
palaces in huts
visible only after passing three doors
caves under caves, mountains in mountains
at the end of the corridor
a giant hall
crystal lights and silken curtains,
drawings on the wall, carvings, pillars
and behind that all a little secret door
fragrance of spring,
blue flowers on a wall
green hills and a river,
always alone there
no one to share,
no one to dare
silent and rare

lunatic cycles

exuberance, laughter,
sudden destruction
in me a storm,
a warning from the deep
three mountains
hanging in the sky,
to reach a peak
i need to break
lunatic cycles
captivating my body
carved into barks, those words
a knife couldn't swallow
while frost ate away
the leaves i held
onto in spring
i had them watered
when your sky
was still blue
and mine

dropped onto a stone

sometimes i flow in deepest ground
become the river, carving not only
the outer part of rock
i shape a hole, right in the middle
of hope, deep hanging clouds
embracing a mountain, somewhere
in the distance three twigs
growing from a misty slope
a leave has changed colour
dropped onto a stone
waiting for rain
rinsing its stains
while i am streaming up

Tuesday, September 11, 2012


They are in each of my heartbeats
The ones in my veins
Bleeding out
At point of departure
Stop looking for me looking at you
My mind is a clockwork
With no way out of turning the wheels

Tuesday, September 04, 2012

Marry me to the sky
The world is upside down
Must I always drown
When I decide to fly

Monday, September 03, 2012

Nothing else

I took up this route without a plan
Sitting behind the driver
From a to be, ending up
At c where I need to bargain
Over the skin price again
I step on the side walk
Where a blind man
Waits for the moon to smile
At him
And I wonder, when
Was the last time I danced
In the streets without bodies
Flooded by rain
Sleeping too close to traffic
Almost killing my sense of direction
I keep walking,
Nothing else makes sense

Friday, August 17, 2012

I lost the water colours

A circle of fire,
drawn around the moon.

I lost the water colours
to silent curves
that never knew secrets and pain.

A smile hides behind a mirror,
everything gives way,
paint crumbles off,

When I opened the door
creases of a curtain swallowed
the sun.

I lost my hair in storms.
You jump and I toss a dice.

Keep telling myself
to hold onto rain.

Watching fishermen

It’s a longing for the sea
A walk on the shore without sunset
When will I come home, I wonder
Watching fishermen
Pulling their boats off shore
The smell of fish
Weighs down my chest
But then, can I grudge
What I was not
Meant to be

Sunday, August 12, 2012

dropping sand

in a hot air balloon
off to the milky way
dropping sand
we forgot the music
maybe our flight
is meant to be
light in

Sunday, August 05, 2012

Passing by

The fruit selling lady
Greets me every day with 'bye'
And I wonder
Why she does not greet me 'hi'
What to say to someone
Who just passes by

Saturday, August 04, 2012

she turns she falls

she cannot dance on this edge
of uncollected dreams
she turns she falls
blindfold sensation
a next step perhaps a step
back into a melody
she follows never off track
this edge is steep on both sides
of random direction

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

truth lies

sometimes truth lies
sometimes in what is not


desiring for pearls
in an ocean of tears
who else would collect them
who else would
cause those tears

my wave

i wished i knew
why a wicked storm
thought out to carry
my wave in front of you

fassade is wearing off

is there a way
out of your wall
too used are you
to sealing cracks and crevices
let them loosely evolve
the beauty of their randomness
you maintain and tie
no air to breathe
but sealed crevices
a shiny wall
fassade is wearing off

and still you cannot sink

one chains you on land
others come and go like waves
all you want is sink
the chain is too strong
the waves too unsteady
you refuse to swim
still you cannot sink
i cannot even imagine
your tragedy

mirror maze

in a mirror maze
every single mirror
a window of its own
holding one picture
one tiny part of you
all of them in silence
all of them in tears
someone must have covered
the other parts of you

but calotropis on the sidewalk

at last
the sea remembers
every creature
that has swum in its ocean
and crawled onto land
creepers not deserving
to be human
but calotropis on the sidewalk
will stand
don't drink my sweet soul
when all you need is salty water

deep blue sky

my heart beats so hard
i know i missed a part
tears are swallowed again
and again they form
the deep blue sky

Monday, July 30, 2012

with the tide

what a world of waves
only flooding the shore
when it is calling them
no movement in themselves
they just live with the tide
the moon is giving to them
and nobody to blame

Sunday, July 29, 2012

black pearl

black pearl kept
in furious waters
deep dark blue sea
i can hear its heart beat
but will never reach
deep enough to unlock
its shine haunting me

Friday, July 20, 2012

they drank

emptied clouds
trees sounding hollow
you took the resin
filled their roots with poison
and because they had chosen
to trust
they drank

Thursday, July 19, 2012

in midair

i just stood
and waited 
in midair, empty skies
for you
to make the last two steps
and then it started raining

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

some drops

rain fell on my lips, some drops
rushed down

the curls on my shoulder

a waterfall
played drums in my navel

I stood in the monsoon

drinking sweetness, swirled
in the misty light
of a summer night’s moon

can i not
stand by myself
i will lean on you
for wonderous hights
let me grow
will you

Monday, July 16, 2012

Merging more than eight lines

They seem to be locked up with me
Walking a step away from the sidewalk
Drains them for a while
Only to rise somewhere, unexpectedly
Into a moment of wanting
Stiffness spreads through bones
Entangled in a huge crossover
Merging more than eight lines
The heart never stops beating
But the veins empty out, sometimes

Fall and flight

I want you to dance
On the rim of tumbling autumn leaves
Carried away
Carried so high
There is no difference
Between fall and flight
Tell me of its light
When you reach a star
Make it shine on my face 
When I cannot reach 
For you, I know
At least your direction

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Two coupled wagons

Maybe I missed the platform call
But then I realise
I have entered a train
Heading into every direction
We just need to open the door
Why is it so difficult
To hold balance between
Two coupled wagons

Friday, July 06, 2012

rain washed my heart

snow fell on my chest
leaves grew in my hair
rain washed my heart
slowing down my heartbeat
counting every second
that you have lost somewhere

Wednesday, July 04, 2012

tainted rush

intoxicating pigments
numbed all your senses
radiant choice of colours
looks grey and pale to you
thrusting fragile fingers
dull-tipped rusty needles
may hold a tainted rush
no justice can undo

Saturday, June 30, 2012

The Cat

The cat came to my front door
And asked her way in
Knowing I would not open
But she would try again
She asked at my backdoor
I would not let her in
The rats played in the attic
Why would she try again

Thursday, June 21, 2012

the right hand of sleep

the right hand of sleep strokes my chest
why is it so difficult to speak
when distance is rare
i hold my breath lest it is heard
in between every finger that is truly there

can we only speak of dreams
into the silence of a mountain lake
swallowing the strain of climbing to that peak
and all regret of leaving it
when we plunge our heads into cool water
strip off every shell and dive
into the relieve of a slightly bended morning

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

I am too small

Your vessel is flooded. 
There is no island. 
But you swim. 
Though you can’t swim. 
Water carries you. 
Because it must. 
I am too small. 
Can only
Empty lakes with cups. 
But I can keep trying. 
So long as you swim.

Saturday, June 16, 2012

red ambers

love is to dare
a share in two chambers
glare of red ambers
until despair

Saturday, May 19, 2012

longing for the core

the edge of a lake
framed me into his depth

now with each and every breath
I stir the glaze of his mirror

and every time I reach
for the sky of his grounds

I sink
into a gaping gorge

a mountain upside down
longing for the core

stretching its peak
for the bottom of a surface

Friday, May 11, 2012

At the peak of a storm

I cling to you
With one ribbon
You captured my fabric
I don’t know when 
I fell asleep
For a second
One stitch on the ground
Maybe all along
I only awake
At the peak of a storm

The Eruption

I’m obsessed with birds
They fell off my shoulder

Maybe they sensed
The Eruption

Not too far
Don't look, they chirp
Don't look,

I close my eyes
They lie on the ground

I overfed them
They lost balance
Am I waiting too hard

Don't look
When I don’t look
Will they return
To sit on my shoulder

Wednesday, May 09, 2012

Say it simple and in easy words.
The sense of an ending.
It’s over.

Friday, May 04, 2012

Cricket in the desk

How many decibel
A cricket in the desk
Blasting eardrums
Plugs in my head
Play a better tune 

I stare
At yellow stained curtains
Into the fan’s rotation
Again and again 
I left the closet open
Green metal, stickers veneering
Army style, armoured insects
Creeping inside, preparing for war

All covered 
In layers of dust
Mixed with sweat 
Protects from ozone depletion
Windows latticed, 
Smog burns my breath
If there is fire 
I lock myself
Into the closet’s dark air

Sitting next to a moth
Eating the nerves of my dress
I wait for the cricket
To burn to silence

Tuesday, May 01, 2012

the well

the well in the desert 
is beyond utility
a vision, revelation
ecstatic, enchanting hallucination
holding within
one drop’s reflection
all there is to die 

and die and live for

Monday, April 30, 2012

Within the river

Within the river
Stands a mighty rock.

Not one inch he would move,
Give way to the river.

With time you see
How much the river
Has moved the mighty rock. 

Sunday, April 29, 2012

The tulip

I sleep in a tulip's cup
under his window, waiting
for dawn to unlock.

A peacock is my guard
raising his feathers
when someone comes to pluck
my tulip's golden cup.

Saturday, April 28, 2012

salted wounds

when you ask me to suffer
voluntarily i will suffer
when you ask me not to speak

i will be silent
when you ask me to sink
i will reach for the ground
i will stay away from fire
and drown in an ocean
of scattered smiles
evaporating into a breeze
that lets the world respire
who am i to raise
above the world's agonies
i will not, can not
i let them pass through
and offer a hand
to support your shoulder
to wipe away tears
to bring you the water
that calms down your fears
my body hurts
but i will learn
to live with salted wounds
and give the balm
to those who require

Thursday, April 26, 2012

The edges are blunt

I grow and shrink
In this rotating feeling
Hanging from a ceiling
Inside me a fan
How to switch off the world
Around my restless blades
The edges are blunt
Memories fade
I cut all air in pieces
If this is the purpose
For which I was made
Please switch me off

Saturday, April 21, 2012

They know best

You see sparkles
But what you see
Are reflections of light
Reverberating from panes
Of high speed trains
Having passed my doorstep
I had thought out
As entrance without keys
Swallowed all moments
Of in between silence
They stole all
My migrating birds
And unlearnt
Their sense of direction
When the world stopped turning
I saw them
Those birds without sense
They need tracks now
I saw them
On seats and in shoes
Without melody
They watch the world through windows
And I wonder
Who is the conductor
Does he draw the maps
He never goes for
Secret little archways
All he sees are tracks
Speeding up the train
What is the speed for
The world is small and round
The only route I know
Follows cycles and seasons
Of heartbeat and rest
Of fire and rain
I cultivate the soil
And throw out the seeds
Let them grow wildly
Without any fence
They know best
What makes a spray worth the harvest
They know best
What makes a field worth the rain

Thursday, April 19, 2012

In a room without end

I tricked myself
Only to end up
In a room without end

Could have wandered forever
Convinced to see a wall

But then I remembered
Closed my eyes
And took a step back

All my wandering
Had not taken me further
Than one step
From the door I had left
Days ago

I wonder, how often
Will I have to remember
And take a step back

Monday, April 16, 2012

And the moon became my boat

When the shade of a cloud
Touched my skin
I looked down to earth
And saw myself
In a river of shadow and light
Passing over me

It streamed into a lake and the moon
Became my boat
Carrying all my melodies
Into beautiful morning light
I know the moon can’t swim
But it wouldn’t sink either

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

let's not play with gravity

if every thing was light
we would fall into space
where no body can breathe
wings without pressure
seeds without ground
no rivers and trees

every thing floating
on currents of dust
all falling apart
into light within darkness
no need 
for love and compassion
forgiveness and grief

let's not play with gravity
things appear to be heavy
they only appear 
so we can learn, love and live

Thursday, April 05, 2012

flowers wither, rivers dry,
heat melts all fragile moments
you fly here and there and every second
we could share just passes by

Saturday, March 31, 2012

beautiful faces

in essence, who are we
i asked myself so many times
what remains is soulforce 
heading for the sunrise
a heart that beats and sees
sensing it must be east
we all deserve to be 
beautiful faces 
in glowing morning light

Thursday, March 22, 2012

a tree's leaf

when I cut a tree’s leaf
to make one flower beneath
shine in brightest light
I forgot that without shade
all colour must wither
all sap must dry
in my selfish deed
I see one flower die

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

My spirit is just a splinter

My spirit is just a splinter
Just one beat in the world's giant heart
But added with your spirit and all the million others
We push life
Into veins between the stars

Sunday, February 26, 2012

the mighty playful water

some things take time 
to let them pass, 
to be a leaf floating on waves
accepting the mighty playful water 
drowns leaves from time to time

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Face to face with a tree

When I was a child
I stood face to face with a  tree
He was young and sprouting 
Brim-full with sap
The texture of his leaves
Felt mellow on my skin
I loved his brisk and noble sight
Today he would have outgrown
All of us, wasn't it for someone 
Who chopped him down at night
I sit on his chair and know
I should kneel on the ground

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Winter had grown

I sat on the steps to my garden
waiting for nothing. Winter had grown
and covered me in snow. A fine layer 
gleamed on my fingers,
my hair, my chest and my naked toes.

I sat still, listened to trees tinkling
while all birds had headed South. 
After many days and nights,
my heart was frozen too. I didn’t hear a beat, 
my lips were blue, my lashes breaking,
didn’t know, was I dead or still alive.

One afternoon, 
just before the sun set behind the trees, 
a soft breeze rustled through their branches.
It was time for him to come.
He sang to me with a warm and deep voice.
Very close to my ear I heard the sweetest melody,
it captured me. My heart started beating,
a rush of blood danced in my chest,
flooded my fingers, flooded my head.

He kissed my lashes, woke up the trees,
tiny little flowers unfolding in ice, 
sending their scents to my garden's rearmost corners,
awakening beehives with all their fragile strength.

He picked a blossom from a nearby tree, 
very gently, placed it in my hair,
a cherry blossom melted me in sunset
and all my layers of adamantine ice.

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Äpfel im Morgentau

Äpfel tropfen noch vom Morgentau, Bäume halten reifen Atem an, während Vögel auf saftigem Astwerk sitzen, das im ständigen Richtungswechsel von Blatt zu Blatt überrundet wird. Ein Kater schläft in der Mulde, stört sich nicht an Läusen, die die Rinde und sich selbst unterhalten.

Und dann rief ich die Krähen, trainierte sie täglich drei Stunden, richtete sie regelrecht ab, mit Krähenfüßen auszuhacken, was im schwarzen Feld vergraben lag. In den Murmeln stecken Fingernägel, beim Spiel gebrochen, die du immer poliert, lackiert, an den Enden so fein geschliffen hast. Auch jetzt noch sind sie sicher vor dem Dreck, der die verlorenen Perlen beschichtet.

Eine Höhle zwischen Wurzeln diente als Versteck. Als ich nachsah, war alles geplündert. Ein Mader, ein Fuchs, vielleicht war’s ein Hund. Nur eine Locke, ein verblasster Schuh und die verwelkte Schleife, die jeden Tag das Haar umstreifte, blieben als Zeugen zurück.

Ich trug sie heim, errichtete einen Tempel, dem Gott der Glasperlen zu Ehren, opferte Haar und Seidenschuh. Was jetzt noch bleibt, ist die Schleife, sie hängt neben dem Kater im Geäst, und es bleibt der Baum, der alles trägt, was wir ihm vorgetragen haben, als die Welt schlief und Äpfel im Morgentau reiften.

Wednesday, February 08, 2012

learn what it means

why worry so much
about falling houses
it’s time for them

above my left eye
I open a door
for sloughs and tadpoles

swampy grassland
growing in headrooms
spreading with damp

it’s too wet
to make a fire
let’s come together

and learn
what it means to
warm up hand by hand

When all houses are debris

I must go to the streets
and protest
against houses breaking down,
and stars being buried

I thank every bird
who picks a fallen star
and brings it back to sky

every star holds a wish,
hell they don’t!

but one day
when all is in debris
stars are all that’s left
to look up to,
don’t bury them with houses

Tuesday, February 07, 2012

To find what you have buried

There will always be
Stars in my sky
Doesn’t matter whether they have 
Fallen into dark lakes
Or yielded fields of rye
Don’t hide them too deep
Else birds must cease to fly
I will turn around
Every piece of debris
To find what you have buried
So birds can pick them
Like worms to feed their fledglings
Please don’t ask me why
I have this eerie feeling
Without stars there won’t be sky

Sunday, February 05, 2012

We do not get thirsty unless we do not drink.

Saturday, February 04, 2012

swallowed a cat

a big and fat bird
sat on the antenna
i wondered what it had eaten
it looked as if it
had swallowed a cat

All we catch is fish

All letter writing peters out with time
Even the secret ones, the very secret ones
Where poets themselves sense nothing,
Of stars and hidden moons
In trivial discussions,
The tenor of events 
Has a stubborn melody

Who is to blame
That moonlight is nothing 
But a reflection of sun.

We keep reaching for stars in a lake
Well aware
That all we catch is fish
Which doesn’t mind the moon to fall
Off the sky, 
And sky doesn't mind either
To become a clear and yawning void.
Why is it so hard
To throw away flowers
When they are withered.
After all, we throw away
Those who have died.

The moon

Realizing the moon
doesn’t glow,
turns his existence
into a very pretentious 
reflection of sun.

Where the ducks go in wintertime

I was seeing this guy
And he showed me around town,
His town, he even knew
Where the ducks go in wintertime.

I was new in town
And curious to know
Every hidden corner.

He was handsome and tall
And I asked him to jump
Into the icy pond.
I would if he did, I said,
And tossed his vigorous shoulder,
Just a little, it was a joke
But I was serious about it.

He laughed and watched the swans
Passing by. Taking each other’s hands,
Still kind of shy, we continued walking
Down the road, believing
It would be forever
For the next couple of months.

We were so young
And didn’t know better.
How should we have known.

Maybe we should have jumped.

Friday, February 03, 2012

His plight

When you asked me for a favour
You cried without tears, but I could tell
Snow covered your eyes, tiny little flakes
Caught up in your lashes, melting in light.

In a mix of desires my shadow serves your believes.
It is so cold outside, icecastles grow from rivers,
We skate around but never go inside.

When you come back, you said,
I might be dead, and the castles be molten.
Can’t you stay and wait till winter is over?

You know my wings would grow old,
unlearn to fly, I would turn cold or fall from the sky.
But then, is it too much to ask me to suffer.

I left you and your castles and remember
One window in the taller left tower.
To make me see his reflection
Someone switched on and off the light.

Sometimes when I wander in streets,
Tiny little alleys, pass around a corner,
I expect to find him waiting to hand over
His plight. Switching on and off the light.

Thursday, February 02, 2012


when i read your poem
i wondered, was it for me
but then how should i ask
for what was answered
by thinking out the question

words written by one
who has to bring forth
what is inhaled by the other
can they not only belong 
to all engulfed 
by subtle streams of life

a pretentious layer of sun

have been staring at this square
for hours, days, many more to come;

the right eye’s view flinches
into the left, slightly irritated

I wonder why it moves, observe,
monitor it closely, I know

it doesn’t move,
still I suspect the square

to play a trick on me, too proud
to think of my eyes

being tired;
they don’t even look baggy yet,

it’s just my skin,
pale toothpaste,

my natural colour,
everything else a pretentious layer of sun;

if I was still in school,
teachers would send me home

again and I wouldn’t mind
looking sick, for a day or two

to think about life and all,
what to do with my future;

but school is over for good,
nobody sends me home to think

and I keep staring
at this square on my desk

and wonder when
it learned to play tricks

Wednesday, February 01, 2012


This world leaves us with three kinds of people:
Those who cannot cope with reality and are diagnosed insane.
Those who deny reality and are diagnosed normal but are nonetheless insane.
Those who face reality and know they are insane.

Friday, January 27, 2012

Carved by a river

Just imagine a rock
Carved by a river
In millions of years
Just imagine
The patience, persistence
Continuous resistance
So that one gives
Little by little
In to the other
A piece of river
Carved into a rock

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Something else was the matter

Today in the morning
I read a letter
About roses and keeping them
Free of Rosegrower’s grief.
Something else was the matter.

What I read was a
Midsummer Letter
Enfolding a poet’s Midlife Belief;
How could I feel
So close to his grief?

When the mind of a poet dances 
Around universal constellations,
We are reduced to atoms and chances;
Not this one; he did not shout out
But reached into substantial relations

Infused with free will
And a dash of psychosis
Providing some form of crude explanation
For this creeping unease to chill
On stage of a drama

Called life. A huge play
Resembling the Simpsons or Futurama.
In comic lies wisdom, 
A humorous madman
In life lies decay.

Monday, January 23, 2012

For a fraction

I remember someone
Was with me
Sitting at the table
While I sat over there
In poetry
I looked at his chair
For a fraction
I remember silhouettes
In stereo
A song and a trumpet
Smoky off beat
Someone died in New York
Because he was special
I know I heard his voice
On radio
Because he was dead

Ermines die for them

I surrounded myself
With combs I never use
I count their teeth
Naming each one of them
After kings without name
Without beard and without golden crown
But I know of their cloaks

A drip of blood on snow
Melts with the Spring
Floats with a current
And trickles into soil
To satisfy underground lakes
Appeasing my thirst
While I count teeth

Completely out-of-vogue
Ermines die for them

Sunday, January 22, 2012

The other girl's smile

She danced
Pretending to breathe
He took off her skin
Hidden behind another girl’s smile
She had to leave
Only to have him follow
For one glimpse
She wished she was
The other girl’s smile

The only leftover

He washed his hair
One hand fell 
Into the drainage
He saved one finger
It took a picture 
In a rollercoaster, years ago
The only leftover
And the scent of shampoo

I remember the frog

On the rooftop we listened to music
I grew a beard and you started shaving
Who was the last to grow wings
I wished we had gone to the movies
Carried away by pictures on screen
I threw the frog over the railing
I remember it could not fly
I remember all was a joke, always
I remember your hazy eyes
I remember your wings
Maybe I remember your smile
I forgot, was there an echo
I remember the frog
Your falling voice, I forgot
Was there an echo

Swallowing meat

Klimt’s girl has been with me for years
I realized I drew my grandfather
In a uniform
I leave behind what I do not tear apart
Traces in rooms keeping out the rain
I made some coffee and handed it over
Remembering wine and music
We share a table but we don’t share the fruit
I left behind an open bottle
Drowned some flies
Took a sip with closed eyes
And decided to stop
Swallowing meat

Melts with the oven

A grey cat in front of the oven
Melts with the oven
Into one hot machine
I know I may not touch
Scorching green knobs
Fur burns my skin
I know I may not touch
I know, but she asks for it
So darely
I will sacrifice, I will
I know I may not

Friday, January 20, 2012

thought sick

at times sick of thoughts
switch off without remote
stuck in drainage
circling around sand
grains scrubbing my skin
layers clogging exit
wishing for a thought bin
to run out
of words

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Beyond reach

Memory, wicked lemonstone
Squeezed into bones
During night they climb escalators
Speeding up speeds them down
Cannot leap, the top beyond reach, always end up
At the bottom deepening itself
Beneath the weight of my lemon squeezed feet
Tripping over twigs, trees grow underground
Remember something beyond reach I know sometimes when 
Waking up beyond when

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Making up road signs

No matter how far
We walk
Earth is round
We cannot fall off
It is just what we are already
Timeless. Placeless.
I am nowhere
Have never been
Am always and
Touching your path
That cannot be touched
Never was there
And still you are
Making up road signs
Leading nowhere

Tuesday, January 10, 2012


Time one cannot shake

Time one cannot shake.
It sleeps and it awakes.
It carries our dream.
It shows us what it takes
To burn to drown to break
Within a silent shadow
That never disappears though
Sun may hide unseen.

Monday, January 09, 2012

Sunday, January 08, 2012

Solid rock of patience

I will tell the bird in my heart
to sleep until you come
to untie her wings
from this solid rock of patience.

She will dream to fly
but she will understand
and wait while you walk
within your stretched self
to become world
and as this world
surrender yourself
to unfolding freedom
of purest nature within
your truest human being.

Friday, January 06, 2012

Life's a symphony.
When we kill birds
all is left is silence.

Thursday, January 05, 2012

hearts into time

what would mankind be
without fragility
to be thrown
into utmost despair
holding within decay
the essence of beauty
fading, transient
that ties
hearts into time

Tuesday, January 03, 2012

A poem of kindness

What does it sound like 
A poem of care 
A poem of kindness 
One that holds hands 
Embraces shoulders 
And understands 
A poem that walks 
Next to your path 
Listens all day
Without depart 
A poem that drinks 
Despair and your tears 
Strokes your dim hair 
Without hesitation
Or any fears
A poem that brightens 
Heavy mined fields
Collects all splinters 
Without fatigue
Stitches your wounds 
If only I knew 
I would read it 
With a warm and soft voice 
And you could hear it 
Pervade every cloud 
Lift the dark shade 
Enfolding you 
Holding you 
If only I knew 

Monday, January 02, 2012

fathoming II

is having a meal that grows by
eating it

Sunday, January 01, 2012

Mother with child

I looked up and behind the window sill
stood a mother with child.

I fell in love with this sight of beauty
that lasts for all of mankind’s time.

No matter what.

nightly detour

night is over
bombs exploded near my house

I tried to reach the crossing
my lung was hit by a major blast

coughing I turned
detouring the long way round

there I stood, before me the park
hazy, so much smoke in the air

all vague shadow
I decided to run

sparklers were thrown, faster!
hit the lady! a deer in the park

I lost my head, leave it!
behind me: WAR

air soaking wet, trees pitch black
breathless, smoke in my hair

how far? had I lost track?
no, there it was

I reached the crossing
ten minutes late, happy new year!