Truth

My society is very progressive.

Just recently it 
built a new street.

The people, who work on and around

The layers of concrete, sleep

In the parking lot, under plastic sheets.

In the waves

Why such a fuss in the waves
when all that counts
are currents under ground.

slave and master

words were my slaves
now they are my master
contentment in silence
is all i long for
but i must speak
because i am lost
ending up further
from what i had asked for

A gentle breeze

Miracles do not come with thunderstorm.
They happen silently, almost invisibly,
A gentle breeze tingling the skin.

I end up confused
Between what is real and what is
Imagined within.

A hundred thousand ping pong balls

I grew this shell for protection. I burn inside and then I cannot get out because of the very shell that I grew. He called it shelter and placed it into a wood with trees that would not burn. This wood had no time but a beautiful couple with fire. He borrowed from their heat - as if it could ever be anyone’s - and set the house on fire. Ladders grew from window frames. They grew and ended up nowhere. I wanted to climb them but I could not. Everything was locked. He told me this joke of ping pong balls making fume while flinging from walls and I imagined. A hundred thousand ping pong balls trying to enter my body. Through nostrils, ears, the little space between eyeballs and skin. I was speechless, breathless, when I opened my mouth the balls started crawling in. The fire came closer. Heat began tingling my skin. I was still locked into the shelter. So this would be my fate, I thought, burn or be conquered by a hundred thousand ping pong balls. Isn't it funny. But I couldn't laugh. Sensation set in. It started with the cheeks and the right shoulder.  My hair, I recognised this distinctive smell, soon, all over my body, all of it would be gone. And I opened my mouth, and widened my ears and my nostrils and eyes even wider.

In my memory

In my memory I will always love you more

I will see you in a white desert

Searching for the tree

It is leafless, weightless, does bear neither fruit

Nor memory, I will add up and subtract

And love you more, it will always be more

Endless towards infinity, in my memory

Every dream will dye itself blue
To be woven into white fabric
And I will love you more in the desert
Under the tree where I keep waiting
Endlessly, in my memory 

only love

my compass forgot direction
does not remember the meaning of north
longing madly to be dragged
to this palace called only love

The water bearer

There I sit, quietly

Between fish and silver moon

Watching the water bearer

Leave the weight of his footprints

On the tide washed shore

storm tides

a well causing storm tides

nobody may drink of it

too full of you, I

drown in your existence

let me make
a world without you
so i will not hurt
when you are gone

you, where are you

it instantly knew

slowly giving in 
to the sun and its blue companion

dark earth shimmering 
under water on surface

traces of birds disappearing, fading

into solid patches of grey, 

here and there white spots - for the memory

maybe it could exist only 
because it instantly knew

it was made to die

All that keeps flying with entangled claws

In my mind it keeps flying with entangled claws

Sweet bitter illusion, infection of heart

Cannot be traced, wings on a rooftop

Fluttering, why, so much effort!

For things that are far, cannot be saved

In our minds they flutter and fly

Drive us mad, out of reach they are

All that keeps flying with entangled claws

Flooding a village

You drank what I hid in my pocket

Because I tried to be reasonable

Though all I desired was going mad

With you maybe or with the idea

That you had planted in my soil

One night when

I was still sleeping, unsuspecting

And naïve, to a certain extent

Not anticipating that rain soon

Would leave the soil wet, create

A hatchery of saplings overgrowing

Houses, corroding all that

Cannot be reversed, I didn’t dare

To speak and then had to say it all

In one go, a waterfall fed by a glacier

Flooding a village and a town 

The entire valley of things under construction

Because objectives didn’t matter

And neither did I or you for that matter

What would have been better

To never know or to drown

In the glacier's hidden meanings 
That you and I had shared

What it had meant

And then we both started missing

Each other and each another one

I still believed in dreams, you in adventure

Sleeping in streets, wandering

The end was always nearer

The sunrise always close

Somewhere we had dropped the pleasure

Just dropped it with the overcoat 
That had grown too warm

Or we had grown too cold

Fires were better in younger winter

Also the snow had grown too old

A shimmer, I knew if I would touch

All would fade and you

Naked under melting surface

Would be illusion, something I had made up

In my heart, a romance with bansuri

There would always be this melody

And I wouldn’t know why it had enchanted

What it had meant, being in love

Down there

That night, I knew you were down
There I saw you walking

Down the stairs, steps crossing the threshold
In my mind you
Walked down the alley

Shadows of old houses touching shoulders

Fingering, I saw you 
Holding the bird

Couldn’t move till the last piece

Had been swallowed, all the sweets

All of them, only then 
I washed my hands

Extinguished all candles, each one 

Extinguished the shadows, looked for you

Outside in the cold, down there
Where I knew you kneeled and 
The nightshade's feline approached
Your entangled bird

Ganz nebenbei

Zu schwer wiegende Insekten

Tummeln sich im Fieber Glas

In dem Du Medizin
Verabreichst als ob nichts anderes 

Lösen, Mond, könnte

Ich nur diese schwarze Masse

Aus zuckersüchtigem Juckreiz kratzen

Blutig mit wochenlangem

Heilungsverlauf, damit Du
Fragst ganz nebenher, im Vorbeigehen so

Ganz nebenbei, wie geht es Dir?

Seine Kälber

Beim Drehen der Flasche

Kam der Geist nicht. Du 

Probiertest Hampelmann.

Aber auch das konnte nicht

Umstimmen. Besser. Ich blieb

Beim Alten. Überließ das Hampeln.

Doch den Tanz wagte ich und Du

Wolltest auch, konntest aber nicht mehr

Als probieren. Und dennoch

Wagte ich mit Dir einen Satz mehr
Als einen Tag, mehr

Als einen Sitz mehr als

Die Fahrt und die Idee

Vom goldenen Fluss, in dem
Der Mond seine Kälber tränkte.