“I feel no more that I am
I was
or ever will be”

let it be your freedom
not your prison

I breathe in
and you fill my lungs
I exhale in love

Don’t you know?

I wish i could just call you and
say: “Heyy, i know we haven’t
spoken in a while. But i would
love to just get in the car with
you and drive away from this
all. Hide in the woods, travel
with only some books. Buy
some groceries on the way,
cook some lovely dinners and
just enjoy each other’s
company for a few days. To
simply sit in silence together or
talk every minute or two. Me
not wanting anything from you
and you nothing more from me,
other than breathing together
while exchanging our energy.”

To believe in art
you need to be a bit mad

or a bit drunk.
At least.

How else can you show the world
the inside of your mind

without being called crazy?

How else can you explain
that what you create
is your version of a reality

that lives inside your head?

It’s a gift of sharing
in words, colors, forms

or expressions born for impression.

To create art
you need to be a bit mad

or a bit high.
At least.

to be able to walk on the border
of worlds unexplored

but explained by a single thread
stroke
or word.

To grasp with your hands
where no man has hands to reach

let alone dare to walk on bare feet.

To be an artist
you need to be a bit mad

or a bit delusional.
At least.

To understand
that what we see

only lies in the one who beholds
not our vision
but what they dream.

That free form is mere
a bridge
built

between different worlds
and we hold the keys.

To be art
you need to be a bit mad

or a bit dark.
At least.

For what we see
can only become real

when we’re feeding of virtues
believes

or simply of how deep
and intensely
we are able to feel.

Unmorally explaining
without apologies
that there is more

than just here.

Showing off
without meaning to
only to please

and silence our own voices
that scream
waiting to be set free.

To Art,
you need to be a bit mad

or a bit drunk.
At least.

You don’t know when the bullet is gonna blow
and when the trigger gets pulled,

I don’t care which way the barrel is pointed,
I don’t care which way the bullet goes.

“'Sweetheart, stop running around
breaking hearts and start healing hearts.”

“Only then you can heal yours.”

A bow around the present

————-

He opened the door and I walked in,
the air was intense already
heavy and thick
laced with all the things
we were both feeling

and I almost couldn’t breathe

I was nervous, yet calm
it was the seventh time we would meet
my body was tantalizing
but my heartbeat slow and steady

Until then, we had touched briefly
he never went straight for the ****
and neither did I

Anticipating and building
a momentum
shared already in dreams

We had talked about it,
shared our needs
discussed all of our desires
and how we would like to feel

Mind-fuckīng
at best
exactly as it is supposed to be

He had cooked for me
a fine dining once again
but this time made from his own hands

As if he knew precisely
what I am into
the level of life I like
and it smelled almost as amazing
as he did

He showed me around
indulged me in his taste
for another round of perfection

We headed for the kitchen
he grabbed a second glass
to pour in some wine
as I reached for the bottle next to him

My arm grazed his side
and we exchanged a look
we both instantly deciphered

Before I knew
I was up on the counter
with him between my thighs
who needs dinner
when we can have a full course
with an exotic palate to explore

It was more than desire
lust or want
it was roaring
down from the deepest parts

And I was lost
in this perfect combination
of high-end while downright *****
ready to bend in ways
I didn’t know I could yet

And man,
we went to heaven
and back
as he lifted me with one hand
from the table, couch
up against the wall
and into his bed

Looking down on him
with his body between my legs
it must have been
one of the most sensational
pictures I have captured yet

My hands on his chest
thinking he is sculpted as a God
as we locked eyes
and I moved as the waters
waves crashing on the sand

Until I heard my name escape
depart from the shoreline
of his lips against mine
hands above his head
my fingers entwined
as we both let go our release
perfectly at the same time

Dinner was served
and dessert in its finest class
both fresh out of breath
we looked at each other
our eyes laughed
as he pulled me onto his chest

And he said
“I’ve never had the pleasure before
of meeting a Goddess,
let alone having her in my bed.”

It has been a while in time

-—However not out of reach

I was trying to climb highs

-—I’d dared not before dream


The whisper that followed

-—My every step into more sorrow

Softening with thy gentle hum

-—The less of the hollow I become


Not in view but within my range

-—I’ve settled a life within a place

Stiller, the quieter, the strange

-—A hymn has me filled my gaze


Covering the eyes, I have them closed

-—For it’s in the heartbeat, ye old drum

The beat swung with wings that started to sing

—I thought I recognized the song


Laying still, bathed, I bask in your suns

—-I absorb thy lights and the winds blow in my back

All so I can let them move me as one

Every once in a while I see you sitting on a branch

The beautiful nightingale in its form

Always singing exquisitely beautiful songs

Why the mind never stop seeking

To which frequency it belongs



With absolute stillness, there is able to find

The music that plays, is made to hide

Verses that cannot put into words

What the galaxies describe



With a universal language

If one listens, can unwind

The wool of what is spun

Structured and wired

In the most delicate way

From the beginning to every gentle laced hum



Now fly away again; with all of the harmony lifting notes you sung



My love, for I will follow the thread

As far as there is no more

Untill I can feel the wind move between the feathers

And the beauty of true love sounds embraces my hearts warmth