I had to keep back tears
when I discovered
that the plant
which I had nourished over years
      first in a ***
      then in the tiny frontyard garden
      where it had   after a while
      found its space amid the dominance
     of  honeysuckle & the bougainvilleas
had simply been cut off at the stem
by the guy I had paid to clip the hedge

     which he actually butchered to a degree
     that it looked like shrubs by the trenches of World War I
     devastated by artillery, grenades, and machine guns

I think I will not ask
for his services any more

the year is new
the problems stay the same

the one or other
   may have gotten a new name
yet the proverbial hope
    that they would simply disappear
   with time passing
remains just that

still  every year begins
    with quickening hearts
    and firm decisions
    the best intentions
    and new hope
that we will finally do
those things which to achieve
we’ve had on our mind
all these 12 months
that now belong inevitably to the past

so   in the early hours
of the latest new beginning
we promise to be strong
always prepare to meet the unexpected
and get things done at last

but first   dear friends
first   we shall celebrate
our chance to see the new year’s sun arise

LET’S HAVE A BLAST

the real question is not
    whether god exists
but whether you believe in one
no matter which denomination

do you believe
    that there is someone
    who commands your fate
    created everything
    makes earth move and the universe
    protects the good and punishes the bad
    and will reward you after death
        according to the life you led
    with everlasting bliss
         or fiery hell eternal

or do you rather think
    that it is our responsibility alone
    to live in peace  
         not war
    protect all life
        not only our own
    and not pretend
        that hunger  sickness
        lack of water and clean air
       are simply  natural  

if you are a believer
     remember all religions
     respect all forms of life

if you are prone to think it's humans' obligation
     remember those who do believe
     may also strive  to do their best

the common goal of all
should be the recognition
     that whatsoever god
     may have created us
     would not have wished
     for our abolition

the rhythm of my life has changed o’er time
from hectic to considerate to more relaxed
things that pressed urgently in previous years
now suddenly can wait a bit, and without fears
that anything important might be missed

the wisdom of maturity, or just the laziness of age,
allows me now to cast a much more probing look
on our daily world, watching events and people
with more distance than in younger days

whether this is a  blessing in disguise
I dare not say, I’m not the sage
who tells you where the long-sought treasure lies
but just a greying man who tries to figure out
what his life and the world are all about

it seems we got it wrong
in reverse
man made god in his own image

For the first twenty years since yesterday
                  I scarce believed thou couldst be gone away;
            For forty more I fed on favors past,
               And forty on hopes that thou wouldst they might last.
                    Tears drowned one hundred, and sighs blew out two,
               A thousand, I did neither think nor do,
               Or not divide, all being one thought of you,
               Or in a thousand more forgot that too.
          Yet call not this long life, but think that I
               Am, by being dead, immortal. Can ghosts die?

I walk between life and death,
The hours when the days are like
Stakes to the nocturnal heart.
   And I know a walk among tombstones
Is a like a fresh death when the earth
Is covered with scarlet and scenic
Flowers,
    I can already write my death on
The slab as clearly as I see the onset
Of the dusk upon my sun.
   And I know to be dead is but another
Interminable word,
   Like the carnival rides of my childhood,
Lost in a crowd but thrillingly unknown.
   Tonight the stars speak a hope
In a new year, and all the years disappear like
Geese to the North,
   Like Gnarls of teeth locked in a mongrels
Cry behind enclosed yards.
     I am ready to die,
But instead I will write death and
Write a verse to make one think
One knows the true beauty of life,
    Like the insufferably brilliant
Deaths of heroes told in myth
And legend,
    A dissolved illusion to the real illustration
Caught between worlds of perceptions.
     I see death on a dance floor,
A psalm sung and written by me
As my soul whirls the words in spectral
Atoms and lost in the momentary
Eternity.
       And I remember I'm a just a man
With Latin blood spitting
From the womb of my mother.
    And I am on the same side as my heart,
The hourglass fades,
The brutal eyes of truth facing me,
Fierce and unredeeming,
I dance with death,
And there is nothing I can do now.
I have nothing to prove I was here,
Except the poem
And even the words will fade.
Except the song I wrote for death,
It plays over and over
And death dances eternal.