Will they dry up

When they come closer will they unlace

ancient tongues, will vessels remain

spreading through bodies

what damp spreads through tissue

or will they dry up what moisture contains

comforting fires no one should follow

abiding to virtues that make them the same

among many others who cannot unfollow

grey dried up candles without any flame?

Heartbeat

What if this one cannot be drawn

and she can only draw from within

heartbeat that ticks a little bit sideways

and only sideways the tick finds her hymn

Melody turning grey into colour

colour so easily turned into grey

when it is alloyed with heartbeat of others

not leaving hearts beat their own way

heartbeat.
is all that counts.

till their vapors dissolved

world has been always

fuzzy, hazy, a bit shaky, maybe

when I was a very small child

when I knew my grandfather’s garden

as the entire world

where I could sit between flowers

braiding wreaths

in a stillness of hours

a bee’s sting

couldn’t shake a ground

just raise a tear

that made the flowers blossom

and saturated leaves

till their vapors dissolved into a sky

that led their way to your ground

and made them appear in your eye

how could I care more?

earth surrenders

earth surrenders to

surrounding silent solitude

vacuum

shaping from emptiness

its inner ground of being

words

in some nights
nerves are tense
and all well meant
words
illuminate a path
to misunderstanding

HEADTANGLE
- no one said it was easy to unlearn.

Weavers within

It’s all entangled in metaphors

a fabric

that robes and hems our thinking,

concreteness hidden

beneath and within

the veil that ties truth into time

and keeps us aloof from

a world wrought by weavers

working in us and working us in

While you walk

Just a little gesture, one word, a blink of the eye

a hand on the shoulder

while you walk down the path

that lies so heavily before your body, always

dragging forward all you have

into grounds fractured within your shadow

which will never be even

no matter how much you try
to step over the chinks in your armour
they cannot be fixed

One little gesture

turns unopened letters 
piling up
in your mind

to harmless staples of lacerable paper

and day lightens its shade

in crystal clear mirth

brimming over 

the cup in your hands

They so firmly hold onto

its handle, they know

the only stroke they have

All your beauty

To save you from rain beats

I took the umbrella

In an instance its shadow

Beclouded your beauty

In a way a cloud could never have.

All your beauty dried up and I

Could see your ashes

Poured into soil

Making clouds burst
In a way my eyes could never have.

To see what is not there

This tiny spot

In the middle of my forehead

It makes me shy

Sometimes I feel

It is your touch

Placing this eye

To see what is not there

I wonder why

The door ajar

In the eyes of doubtfulness

he prevails, it is his house.
I follow Orpheus’ path, without hesitation

into first beauty-full morning light.

The door ajar
leaving behind nobleness

of heart hero(in)es, childhood

dreams I never remembered laying out

a trail to find their burning hearts

over seven hills that one day grew
larger than mountains.

In the midst of a forest 
hides a tiny kingdom’s ginger house.

Nightbirds ate the window frames

while I was asleep behind curtains 
parting me from chiming sounds 
of a vow

that has not yet been spoken.

Die Zusammensetzung der Teile

Und dann fühlte sich

die Luft im Raum ganz anders an.

Alles wie zuvor,

nur die Zusammensetzung der Teile

brachte ein neues Geräusch,
das die Resonanz im Ohr

unhörbar verschob. Besuch,
den der Raum noch nicht kannte.               

II.II.OII

The funny thing about now is that it is now and only now and at the same time it is always.

I coughed and he died

I remember mother’s bird in a cage above my head

to the left of my cradle from an infant’s perspective.

He lived between sill and kitchen cupboard 

in one of four corners framing a table

four chairs and a bench. A downy green feather 

fell in my mouth. I coughed and he died

I remember him singing. A high cracking voice.

He could speak only Tuesdays. Very dark eyes.

He bobbed his head while drinking water.

I began to forget when he left; for years.

I was younger than one, only asked once 

where he had gone. He flew away to live in the jungle.

Admiring his courage I took over his place

bobbing my head when drinking water

trying to sing with a bird's high-pitched voice

forgetting why. I never wondered why.

And I kept trying. One day I gave in

learnt how to fly. Now I remember.

Oasis always

Fountain fights fall
in streams across bridges
cutting dales

til storm-tost tents 
undershadow

the gleaming desert sun,

we sense a turning point

a clearing in the jungle,

an awe-inspiring tremble, 
where all that ends commenced

in bewilderment,
oasis, always.

your insight

met you between
party people, thinner, almost
didn’t notice, younger, a glazy stare

unrested me, the same

in my dream, years later i start 
to wonder about every step

by step since then

you’ve learnt to cope, channel, express

drugs couldn’t mute

your insight

creeps into me, recoils 

my energy, i learn to
take notice