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Dec 2016 · 320
Consciousness.
He watches the moon and feels the blood rushing through his head.
It starts, an explosion of causality.
No way back on this merciless expedition.
Only the destination keeps its value.
A breeze comes up from the east, invisible tongues lick his face. It turns to night. The sand underneath his naked feet has lost all previous warmth. The chill tickles. Seconds succumb in symbiosis.
The marram grass rustles against his arms, the warning of a friend.
He feels the fire of candles burning in his bowels.
Feeling comes. No escape.
Surrender the only art.

There is light.
From inside out.
Something fluttering in earliness.
Reverberated and repeated endlessly.
The lonely game of gods.
Consciousness.

Light. From inside out.
Dec 2016 · 313
Danaë
Danaë
we share the same roots
thrive in sacred soil
unbounded by frontiers
and the countless prisons
of this lethal reasoning

Danaë
in you I find the echoes
which invalidate my voice
the silence between my snares
the precious flower in my snow

sometimes I wanna escape with you
like wild luscious hounds

Danaë
for you I hide in vain
the soft scars of my wounds
Nov 2016 · 373
Sparkle of light
sparkle of light, human being
this appears to be our sharing
inventing terms like cartoonofobia
and abortion tourism
endlessly debating about the sense
of everything and eventually
having to conclude that
everything is senseless
here where corporations profile
themselves as being ethically correct
as if another alternative should exist
and we should praise them for it
here we are but wandering a bit
shoreless in the alliance of shadows
human being, grow into a fire
to consume all ignorance
and please, for a change
give yourself a long harsh glance
circles I am

getting smaller maybe

endlessly pouring in myself


the flooding of the dirt that hides the lotus


there is no sense in denying

everything worthwhile

is fragile
Nov 2016 · 479
Untitled
you exist like a pendulum
everything pushes you
- everything.
Nov 2016 · 353
Footprints
we are the footprint
of an unfathomable
supreme being
this writing a desperate scratching
with naked nails in a pressure wound
we blast breaches into time and space
happiness may be volatile
but not in vain as long as we
reflect each other’s inner light
and only today are we really alive
for only today can be taken away from us
the animals remain innocent
they are brought in front of our court
slaughter cattle guilty for not being human
this lifelasting denial
an oh so unjust silence
once we will have to finally
pay the toll for our sinister fate
the first time and the last
Nov 2016 · 308
History
betrayed czar
tsunami
ear cut off
free fisherman forced back ashore
prince mumbling revolution
forgotten ice age
driftwood stagnating like a forest
on the ***** of a mountain
sound of a harp slightly out of tune
carried by cello’s of cedarwood
envy of a ***** teenage girl
dreaming of love but forced
to stay with her hardworking parents
shy painter of nudes shivering
and hoping to fade himself with paint
seed carried to a new continent
by a lost bird
catching the penultimate fish

these things decide our humble history
before we perish
Nov 2016 · 391
Marian's Dream
the joke of spurted *****
sticks to her smooth skin
spider silk waiting for
some long-lost splendour

her eyes puddles of misfortune
full of double layers and his flames
violently demanding refuge spurred
by a heart taking hold of hers

somewhere
behind the human stench
a man must live
to gently grow old with
until nothing but the essential remains
small and slow and helpless
Aug 2016 · 1.6k
Wanderlust
fly sweety
your eyes were made for wandering
but please stay homesick
for your bed will always be made
just in case you need some warmth
my fridge will hold your favourite fruits
                             I’ll keep them fresh forever
and according to the gravity of your mood
I have red and white wines to ease the night
countless candles and I’d love to make a bonfire
                           if ever you’re in need of light
for your heart  I’ll be a refuge
even if you flew
out of sight
Aug 2016 · 1.3k
Tribute to Buckethead
there isn't all that much to worship
but the long fingers of some unknown
god granting us with melody
and meaning

or maybe this girl of my dreams
she sells sea shells by the slaughterhouse
a real diamond in the rough
saving dimes to escape from ****** mountain

I found truth in a forgotten library
the rise of the blue lotus
watered by the flooding of pain

dawn appears
Aug 2016 · 231
Nectar
your body is not just a body
it is filled with you
and you are the nectar
Aug 2016 · 283
Untitled
after too many moons
he slows down time
looks outside in anger
refuses to let anyone in
the bed unmade because
it will only be him for
the rest of his life

after too many moons
there is no return home
home a long lost throne
giving memory colour
sharply against this
endless white of
endless walls

after too many moons
he will be forgotten
by so many who once
were just like him

after too many moons
any tear is welcome
to create a new ocean
Aug 2016 · 495
Ancient Present
leave    me    be

every guidance
a misguidance

growth is all I need

my inner law is strong enough
i won’t need any lawyers

no one to judge me but
two blue eyes in my mirror
ancient present from grandma

the first step - the highest -
was acceptance

what follows
should be equanimity
Jul 2016 · 547
Resource
for years I searched for new paths
  as if the only thing that really mattered
    was to get elsewhere as soon as possible

this shoreless thirst connects
    my little matter
                           with my oceans of dream

           everything breathes solvability

     and my mind creeps up
      only those walls that
          I cannot handle
      and lurks like an owl
       through your woods

over here you don't drink coffee
without some liquor

the temple was built
for naked dancers

and this love is my resource

my resource for some divinity
Jun 2016 · 585
Wanderlust
wanderlust thirsts for earthly scents
the farewell of a soul allowed without fear
for gratitude becomes unnoticably purer
on cracked lips above ****** sandals
and searcher is the silent word in my most
valuable friendship with this kingdom
we feel the temporary darkness trembling
and point at birds that refuse to stay
despite our crossing footprints despite
the black hourglass of our history
full of secret horniness

I would prefer to distillate your tears
drink them with a smile for everyone
and sadly point out the sparkles of hope

what keeps me from doing so
some call wisdom
Jun 2016 · 948
At The Edge Of My Deluge
I dream
how her morning nakedness
overshadows the depth of old plants
and how her tears of joy twinkle
at the edge of my deluge

I forget
how in a gray black past
my pillow was wet with tears
and I kissed it because I could not expect
ever to embrace someone like her

I honour
forever how I found her
the pearl  in a sea full of mines
and how she quenched my sadness
as if it had been hers for many years

I cherish
how on a late day in June
on an ancient brigde in Prague
I asked for her hand and how her eyes filled up
with the light that keeps me warm

I hope
she will stay
wrote this one just now, two days after I asked my girlfriend to marry me
Jun 2016 · 640
Our Flock
our flock creeps blissfully towards the abyss
we do not feel the tightened leash any longer
our heads full of beaming ignorance
because the network keeps us socially
alive

our flock ***** judgements and squeezes them
laughing in other eyes until also the exaltation
that still remains becomes ordinary and slowly
extinguishes into a darkness in which no child
can read

our flock could graze upon new lands
but prefers to stay in a barren circle
pacing up and down

up and down
Jun 2016 · 1.1k
Despite Everything
despite everything, stay with me
(even if it is just here in this world)
share hazelnuts music with me
dissect the seconds
make the morning turn more pink
and intertwine the noontide smells with me
together – beg in me for evening
thank the candlelight and afterwards
lay your skin on mine

listen, let me protect you and whisper
as if I am an orphanage
without laws, rod or anguish

just for the pleasure of whispering
Jun 2016 · 1.0k
Denial
a raw beast slouches towards my native soil
the cradle holding our innocence rocks wrathfully
back and forth in the ruthless wind
the windows are shut the door locked
and still I hear the helpless cries
of whole communities collapsing
and crumbling because there is no center remaining
no mental balance left to connect the old
with the new and one day when the beast arrives
we will stare at each other with bloodshot eyes

and muse
*wir haben das nicht gewusst
Jun 2016 · 2.1k
Quiet Magnetism
he feels the silence between them
becoming heavier, pregnant almost
and he knows that it cannot take much
longer in the way an embryo knows
that nine months will be over soon

she feels him drawing near unnoticably
or maybe it is his aura which proceeds
him like a premonition and somewhere
between the stars a constellation
twists itself in their direction

he tries to think of the right words
but knows that letters fall short
to convey what he wants to
share with her like a child

kiss her mind and
her body will follow
written for Sergej, who has a fascinating blog Thesensitiveintrovert about introversion, high sensitivity and a lot of interconnected subjects
Jun 2016 · 440
Meticulous Tracks
like an old farm wagon she scratched
meticulous tracks throughout my heart

a fierce fear endarkened her beauty
when a cloud covered the moon
and myriads of scenes vaguely
protecting against penetrating entities
have preceded her

like a cheeta on the verge of dehydration
sensing the prescence of a water vein
from miles away across the plain

like that she silently understood
my shadows
Jun 2016 · 1.2k
Eternal
I am nothing but
the expanding universe
within myself

galaxy after galaxy
of twinkling neurons
together in infinity

my eyes exist solely
to reflect starlight
and gain insight into
things that still must be

they sparkle as if man
has suppressed so many
tears for so long that
within my gaze oceans
are waiting

and they shine as if
the light was eternal
Jun 2016 · 878
When Did It Die
deep
primitive
human being
running through forest
growing in your amazement
learning to distinguish cure from poison
what happened down the way
where did you lose your
sense of magic
when did it
die
Jun 2016 · 465
Night Tide
you were the sweet dream that faded
when the first rays of light came
when the sun gave birth to her daughters
and collected the dew from the grass
when darkness became day like a phantom
and warmth came down descending
in the soft valleys of my dreams
your name was the end of the cold
the veil which sneaked through trees
and the stuttering plead to behold
what would never come back
because tears refuse to return
when they flood down human cheeks
and you are the most precious tear of my tears
that will always dwell in my heart
and that eventually will
bring me back from my sleep
almost torn apart
this is a very old one, 1999 if I remember correctly...
Jun 2016 · 921
Psylocibine
I lay here waiting in my skin for the tearing of the membrane
that seperates this world from the next one and I let myself
get carried along by a fresh stream of reasoning until I
flare up in the dark like a new species of amoeba

this balancing and spinning around on an atom and just not
falling off it becomes boring at times and maybe because of that
sporules once landed here to grant us the possibility
of another possibility

I lay here waiting and I manage not to drown just like only
an almost newborn baby can and being born in 1983
means nothing here in the swelling infinity
of the abnormal

my skin has been waiting for new atmospheres for decades
and the touch of unknown forms makes me shudder with
raw impervious happiness because invisible energy
effervesces alongside my arms and the eyes in my skull
could be anyone’s right now

suddenly the waiting is forgotten and I wallow myself
in the gathered fairy tales of every soul that preceded me
carelessly astonished and uncapable of understanding
the seriousness of this absurd life

inside me irrational poetry dances
like a tribe jumping around a bonfire

outside the universe
dances her own eternity
round and round
Jun 2016 · 2.8k
Shipwrecked
dying in your arms
I would accept laughingly
like being shipwrecked
on the coast of Venice

— The End —