Sunday, December 29, 2013

Ocean inside

I thought she would
Sometimes, but she died
While I listened to bulls
Roaring in darkness

She jumped and I did not
Hear, too much pressure
A rushing in the auricle
Anotia, all I want is silence

That birth mark of yours
I never got it, give me
Your hand and don’t
Pretend you like to grow
All of a sudden, being neat
And smart, hiding
Behind glasses, I know
What lies inside, I've seen
The ocean inside

Deep inside red

Giant slaughterhouse
Me in the backdoor
I watch secretly, eyes of cows
Red rivers in snow
Mark a trespassing

Kites dangling, empty trees
Grow ropes, transmission lines
Storm riddled skeletons
I watch

The swing in the park amusing itself
Back and forth slightly sideways
Trying that twist
It cannot, children
Record frequencies, satellite dishes
Made for vegetarians longing for meat
Red rivers in snow

I walk backwards, the doorframe
Head against wood
Leaning, watch in slow motion
The knife and the eyes
Giant waterfalls, melting
All is prepared and packed into
Transparent plastic bags
Sealed off with heat

A war behind mountains
It never comes close
Deep inside red

Saturday, December 28, 2013

thought exhibitions

scratched that image
of your book, Vincent knew
nights zonder limits, things
she says she soon forgets
whispers in my shouts
reversing love, so right but
so me, ti mess, a ride, momus I got
momus, got to keep, keep it
keep telling from far, never stopped
you, hitchhike to the crypt
cold with candles, you.

trying to understand that
fucking thing, drinking the choir
all over again, I like
peepholes in tin drums
wool in crust on your knee, losing
beaches in wet paper bags
wet from the ocean
thought exhibitions, all 
cannot be fixed, dangerous
animals on porches, deer
moms of deer wifes chewing snakes

I like to watch pixels on white
horses on a PC, I like
blinking stars, big wheels
in big bowls turning transcendence
moons kicking light off screen
on your forehead, I like
you not looking, 
I like you not 
looking at me
and then, suddenly

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

beat only

all my seconds, no distance
between you and the beat
dreams are car rides
falling apart
snow fields solemnly covering
dusk of the icy winter night

you walk alone, I watch
from above, falling
into the mouth of a giant city
turmoil swallowing
every thought
memories spit me
before your feet - out!

I hand over my wrists
the organism keeps crawling
for you to cut ! until I bleed
why do we want
to heal what we cannot
there is beat only and there is

Friday, December 20, 2013


and they come together
and they eat
and they drink
and they fuck
and they tremble
and they die

Thursday, December 19, 2013

Sleep dreamless

Reflections on a mirror frame
I smile into your whisper
Can u comb my hair?

What sleeps in defenses
Demands me to tame
A moon of blue flowers

Faces cannot maintain
Deepening flames of amber
Squeezed into a box

Sealed with fish bones, fences
The key, thrown into a river
I dive, we dive, we drown

Key in your hand
Hand in my hand

Under its surface, the river
Is an ocean and the sun
Is made of amber

Homeless camouflage
All destructive anger
I dream

Then close my eyes
Sleep dreamless, always

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Thursday, December 05, 2013

Mohini kam zu mir

Mohini kam zu mir,
O Schöne, wen machst Du schön,
Wem machst Du Dich schön,
Um mit Asche das Haupt zu begießen?

Er kommt nicht wieder,
Die List seiner Hand durch die Deine,
Lässt Blumen am Waldrand sprießen,
Für wen?

Dein Spiegel kennt kein Morgengrau,
Die Vögel fliegen nicht mehr
Weit, alles Zeitenlose muss nun
Gegen Welt, himmelwärts fließen.

Sie fürchtet nicht den Tod, die Liebe
Festigt sich nicht, Beben und Tanz,
Im kosmischen Öffnen und Schließen!


He had promised her a river. Not exactly, but when she had looked it up on the map and found that there was a river and she had told him that she had looked it up he didn’t say anything. So she came to her conclusion. When she told her best friend, it didn’t feel as much an illusion any longer. Now that someone knew, she had put it in words at least once. For those without, it would be a secret, in limbo, unsaid, demarcated by an invisible line.

When they arrived, it was dark, too dark to see the water, but she could hear it, the currents and whirls, chortles, pieces of debris, leftovers gone astray, pushed and pulled by the stream. She remembered what she had seen. She loved to watch. Water from bridges. Forests from hills. Sky in her dreams. They were always endless. Something beyond. Flowing with the stream.

“The sea gives and takes but it never gives in”, she thought and started looking for the charger. It had to be somewhere in the bag that she had thrown into the trunk just before leaving. She found it in the potatoes. “Could we charge mobiles with starch?”, she thought and then “Blessed are those who surrender to truth and not to illusion giving in. And cursed at the same time. Those who can taste colours, music and dreams. Artists and poets, ah! Shoot all of them!” She listened for the stream. The river had gone quiet, underground. Was it only a promise? Was it more than a dream?

Sunday, December 01, 2013


Purified flames
May not be touched
Drop, immersed in your river
Cannot make claims

Over your love

The empty side

You reminded me of the poem
Stuck in piles of paper
I switched on the torch
Walking through dark rooms
It was three in the morning
Your voice still in my head
My mind was restless
I had looked for shelter
On the empty side ...