Something keeps me awake,
in the midst of the storm,
and makes me want to fight,
instead of hide.
It lets me take up the battle
that others have feared to fight,
and diminishes the fear,
that has threatened to eat me alive.
Courage....

it makes you take a step,
when you could have run away,
makes you throw stones at the enemy,
and watch and wait,
it makes you move,
when you could have stayed trembling.
Courage...

It gets you on your feet again,
after you have fallen several times
it makes you push,
when there's no more strength in you
and leaves you waiting
when there's nothing to wait for.
courage doesn't await victory,
it works it out.
Stay courageous.

#P.J

It was an unusual fight,
soldiers and surroundings were primed right,
war cry and emotions were taking flight,
I wasn’t sure how I was going to spend the night.
Who's better in the war of love?

Tears can’t replace war cries,
War horns can’t drown out deafening silence,
Armed armory can’t beat out lonely foot soldiers,
Seeing eye to eye can’t wish away looking past each other.
What’s right in a cry of despair?

I wasn’t Napoleon,
she wasn’t Helen of Troy,
we were made for each other,
yet we seem to be from different eras.

Even as we were battle ready,
it didn’t matter who won,
peace doesn’t come at an expense,
indeed it came at no cost,
'cos you can’t buy love.

Now, who wants to argue about that?

Glare at me all you like,
I won't throw you
the detonation charges.
You'll have to find another way.
I lost sight of things
from the very beginning.
Blindness is such a relative term
though. I can see you,
I just can't see me.
Why? I can't justify.
Bias will fry us
for sure, but at least
it'll be a clean burn
--spiritual and environmentally safe.
Giving up cannot be an option,
so I will soldier on.
Death should be its own reward,
but I always hoped for more...

She was winning!
She had the poor sod
on his knees,
one more tongue lashing
and this nemesis
would be vanquished!
Only...
he really wasn't
her enemy at all,
but in truth,
her most beloved.
This raging battle
had so swiftly
mushroomed
from such an innocuous start
your head would spin
(like a top).

A passing observation
fueling outright war,
but he valiantly waved
the white flag of surrender.
Suddenly victory
was not so sweet to her,
thus with sword drawn
and poised at his throat,
she called a truce,
and confessed, "forgive me, my darling,
I was wrong."
Pardoned she was,
and peace ensued.
One lovable turncoat,
she traded in her uniform
to became a cowgirl instead
(like on top).

Her passion was life
Her agony was divine
Her choice was death

Helicopter water ballet
And Charlie's on the grid

Front and centering feng shui
Choreographed in the fields
Where ****** sticks to kids

War is the fashion
That never wears out

Smell its smoke
Sickly sweet and orange
In the early decay of morning

Air soaked with yellow heat.
leaves shaking the dark-green dread,
Silence on the narrow street,
Where our fathers lost the battle,
There! The firing squad is loud
They cried to history and fear
They cried to death and uncertainty

gökhan is turkish
it means: ruler of heaven

first time i met you:
september 3rd 1993
first day at school

we looked at each other
we wanted to sit together
we became friends

how sturdy you were
people always thought you
were much older
but me?

i had a babyface
hated my babyface
wanted to look older due to my
fatherless childhood
always wanted to be my own dad
wouldn't work though

so gökhan became my daddy
father figure and protector
i looked up to you my man

ruler of heaven

six years later you died of cancer
i rushed to the hospital
countryside germany

when entering your room
aware of your death
i saw your stiff body

and you were smiling
i will never forget that
gökhan

an african-turk growing
up in germany 1990s
called gökhan tatchouop
lost the battle against cancer
sixteen years old

and he really died with a smile
because he was a good man
who did the right thing

as i get older year by year
i could be gökhan's dad by now

you're with me