You think you are free?
Free to stand on our own feet.
Dare to cut the ropes.

Dark wooded hills
float on grey clouds.

Their raindrops
whipping tiny scars
across tempered glass.

My jaded mind
melds into nothing.

The day is past
and I past the day.

Moving in circles
without goal.

I love to lose myself
in those rare moments
without words.

Where music and imagery
synchronize to stir
my deepest feelings.

I love to lose myself
in destruction and sadness
played in G-Major chords.

Where tears flow
from my heart
and fiction veils reality.

I love to lose myself
in hope for a better future
without words.

Passive resistance.
With words against tyranny.
Beacon of courage.

Oh, that sweet,
intoxicating feeling.

So, addictive
after one-time use.

I want it
I need it.

That adrenaline,
that dopamine.

You keep the drugs.
You control the dose.

I’m just a desperate ******
who’s in love with you.

Rule by the people.
Depraved by politicians.
People by the rule.

This world is broken.
Hypocrisy everywhere.
But it always was.

I was born in spring
above a silent stream.
Called on by an ancient king
to serve after winter’s dream.

We fought a many battle.
Braved storms and other misery.
Always the obedient cattle
until death or glorious victory.

Time moved like the water below.
Day and night in constant flow.

I held on till the end
seduced by a promised land.
A place of plenty and open doors
across the distant ocean shores.

Then I fell, all brown and brittle
into the river’s icy wave.
I drifted happily for a little
before I sank to my murky grave.

O
          U
                  R
                             H
                                        E
                     ­                            A
      Y                                            R
          ­   O                                    T
                        U ­                   S
                                     A
                            R              N
                  ­E                              D
          M                     ­                 M
    E                                         ­    E
    S                                        B
      H         ­                    E
            W              C
                    O
         M                  R
    I                                    K
 ­   N                                          S
        G
       ­        O
                           N
                                         E

Snow reflects first light.
Silent winter wonderland.
Cold and stiff I sleep.

And the wolves are watching
the lambs fight among themselves.

Spin a white cocoon
of lies and self-denial.
Slowly rot inside.

An innocent smile
disarms the romantic heart,
arouses those vile.

... I may calm my fear
and unseen horror
with words light and clear.

... I may ease my pain
and tend gaping wounds
with verses of healing rain.

... I may release my rage
and spark fiery storms
of rhymes that burn the page.

And maybe, one day
I write about love's joy
in a dazzling lyric play.

not with bombs
nor with bullets.

War fed his soul
with torn up bodies,
and cut off limbs.

War drowned his senses
with the smell of blood
and rotting flesh.

War broke his will
with man's capacity
for boundless cruelty.

If you fall,
   I will help you up.

If you lose your way,
   I will guide you back.

But the choices
   are all yours to make.

I exposed my heart.
Love put on a silver plate.
She took her trophy.

There’s beauty after all.

A light in this cruel
poisoning
meaningless life.

A sad angel’s
musical antidote
against insanity.

Solemn promises.
Stern new year resolutions.
Lies sold to myself.

Blooming consciousness
transcending god’s creation.
Shedding feeble flesh.

An alternate universe
I created in my mind
to see reality in reverse.

Where stupid tyranny
is just a laughing matter
and serious chatter
only carefree pink irony.

Oh, what would I do
without this corrosive
intoxicating glue.

White clouds set on fire.
Ash blackening azure sky.
Infinite canvas.

I’m alone.
In this dark room.
Gasping for air.
Eyes closed.
Tears bleeding.
Sadness screaming.
Soundless agony.

Rust-hued sparks rise
from love fueled pain forge
into cloudless night,
merging with distant stars.

And my heart’s dreams follow
as white silky smoke.
Climbing ever higher
in search for eternal happiness.

At her first touch,
the flesh scattered
into ethereal fragments,
unchaining an immortal soul.

Shoving, pushing, a high pitched row.
Nerves so tense, lids to blow.
What an insane nuthouse show.

The life of two innocent souls
circling around their destiny.

Uncovering new sensual emotions
while drawing closer with each turn.

A shy curious glance sparkles and
turns into a pair of pounding hearts.

While the first awkward kiss
blooms into a firework of desire.

Yuri is love.
Yuri is life.

I can’t see their anger.
I can’t taste their rottenness.
I can’t smell their stench.
I can’t hear their screams.
I can’t feel their stones.

I’ve grown cold of this world.
Shutting out all the lunacy
by looking into myself.

And I’m content, calm, ready.
They can’t scare me anymore.
I’ve sent my fears to the gallows.

There she is, standing alone,
waiting, like every day,
with me as her silent shadow.

Silver rain falls in great drops
and a cold breeze gives her shivers
causing me equal agony.

Her raven hair makes the pale skin
shine white, clean like a statue.
A sight which stops everything around.

She looks my way, giving a sign
and her scarlet lips open like flowers
seducing me, making me blush.

But fool, now she’s gone
and I stand alone, waiting,
like every day, for her return.

Love, like sweet icing sugar
burns with yellow flame
blackening your common sense.

Thick darkness envelops my days
suffocating my will with idleness.
The gloom of being weighs me down,
but I keep dreaming of fairy tale endings.

Hey, that doesn’t rhyme,
what a ******* waste of time.

Do I really have to read this?
I don’t care about your mental fizz.

And btw, no one writes those anymore
only lonely people who hide indoor.

Honestly, what does this actually mean?
I prefer to watch a social media stream.

So, you better stop being a fool
and we might end to ridicule.

I found you.
Different. Imperfect.

A sad and sickly child
alone in a faceless world.

Bland with naïve thoughts
and clumsy manners.

I found you.
Alike. Perfect.

You mind your steps
   after you've stumbled.
You miss your home
   after you’ve left it.
You value your health
   after you’ve been sick.

But you can’t enjoy life
   after you died.

An Orwellian term
used by self-righteous hypocrites
hiding behind a cloak of morality.

Wake up.

Political correctness controls the narrative
by shaming and suppressing.

It forces upon us
the “one true” ideological orthodoxy.

It eliminates decent and
makes people lie and self-censor their words.

Stand up.

We must allow others to speak
and voice their thoughts.

Some might be stupid,
so let’s expose their faults.

Some might be outrageous,
so let’s pause and defuse.

Some might be hurtful and mean
so let’s self-reflect and steel ourselves.

Speak up.

Political correctness leads to sameness
contrary to the individualism
it pretends to protect.

It is a road into slavery.
First the slavery of your mind
and later slavery of your body.

Hold still for a moment.
  Appreciate that you are alive.
    Put away the distractions.
      Picture yourself
        Independent and free.
      Needing nothing
    Except yourself.
  Savor this inner peace as it
Shines through to the outside.

Poems are like a safety relief valve.

In them we can say
what we would never say aloud.

In them we can
  curse,
    cry,
      love,
        hate,
          destroy,
            and create.

All those feelings and actions
we never show in real.

Poems are like a safety relief valve
and they are saving lives.

Nestled up against you
I speak without a sound.
Whispering a warm love story
across your cold naked skin.

Crucify me with glowing irons.
Tear me into thousand pieces
or burn me in heresy fire.

Just do something
because no death
can be worse
than your indifference.

Writing to you
  made me endure the boring dailiness.

Writing to you
  made me forget my sorrows for a while.

Writing to you
  was like painting with my heart.

Writing to you
  was like loving you with my words.

I should never have stopped.

A silver moon engulfs a thousand suns
and sheds blue silky light across the land.
The wind plays its howling symphony,
with trees and mountains as instruments.

A cold body awakens from rigid sleep
putting tendons and muscles into motion.
Slowly, but ever faster it moves along
until spirit and body merge – creating life.

Consuming all its resources around
the goal has become a distant dream.
Then a jolt runs through the martyred figure
and it searches in vain for a familiar point.

From the deepest black it is driven,
without its doing and stiff resistance.
It must leave this beloved place
in exchange for coldness and piercing light.

However, all he sees is a giant devouring his body
to the sounds of his first screams.

But instead of terrible pain,
he now looks at the infinite cosmos.
Not with the spirit of an ape,
but that of a god, who experienced his birth, death and re-birth.

Poems are like sprouts of green
pushing through tarmac.

Don’t believe the media,
they try to deceive you.

Don’t believe others,
they may lie to you.

Don’t believe your intuition,
it is biased.

If you want to know the truth
go and see for yourself
before making a judgement.

Loneliness wanted to take my life.
And night after night I slept in coffins
which carried my empty soul.

But like a gentle spring breeze
have you quenched evil winter dreams.

Withered leaves became green,
bad turned into good,
tenderness penetrated my pores.

I've reached the highest goal
and find no fear in me.

Death can take me now,
but the soul
belongs to the dearest
who sleeps with me.

“Like a rough kiss's dark fruit”
your life juice intoxicates.

Mouth and spirit
feed on sweet bitterness
and new strength
holds your faltering heart.

Every day and night
my thoughts are on your lips.
That crimson temptation
and source of my life.

They smile in gentle red
and speak with unique truth.

Quench my heart’s fire
with sweet tender kisses
and revive my wilted soul
with dew from cupid’s bow.