I like to do it

in the spotlight. Do you think --


I'm looking at you?

Who are you, you elusive
mermaid in my story
of desire and boredom?

My story, my story
of shipwreck and beach
beach, beach, pebble beach

Washed ashore, thirsty
and shivering of exhaustion
awakened by the hot sun

Beach, beach, pebble beach
washed ashore, delirious
from hunger and alone
all alone with you

dancing in the waves of the sea
the sea, the sea, the waving sea
and my story, only my story

is sailing past this beach
beach, beach, pebble beach
mama, mama, grandma

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday
Thursday, Friday, I'm doing my best
come soon, soon, don't leave me alone

Duties fascinate

me, but when they're done I know --


they don't mean too much.

The buried people

are present in the silence --


rustling in the wind.

We say goodbye, short

- long - stop, the signalling code --


of: I think of you.

Going for a walk,

mama says: "Mouth shut!", so scared --


that I will get sick.

Freedom is doing
something for one's own
reasons, taken from nothing
and no one

A child is free
in its game, everyone
can be it and learn it
in friendship

Grown-up free
every new day
own agendas only
to live and let live

To do what you do and
to say what you say
for your own reasons
and not wanting it any other way

I came for you, not for the wood
that you make me touch, polished
with a gold-jointed split here and there --

the simplicity-beauty
of the song of time on the lute
of life, your life

You show me the snaps
and stretch the evening, you stretch yourself
to the goodnight in the hallway

In the guest bed, I caress the wood
of your heart, so much do I want
to make it burn

not to sleep alone, not patiently
wait, but start the future
which you are now dreaming

great, not patiently wait
until you want me, I want to love you
at first sight

Climb up the ladder

and look next to you, a snake --


is waiting for you!

The ritual after work
in the dark at the end
of the evening twilight

The dim light of the low clouds
in 1883, when the nights in the country
were still black

The farmer stoops
poking a dry smell
from the weeds of the day

It lingers
in a plume of smoke
above the sparks

Although you like me,

I'll be alone again, once --


you got to know me.

I thank him and he

says politely: 'No problem' --


That's not: 'With pleasure' ?

I drink the passion

of his body, of his love --


always thirsty love.

Springtime in my blood,

I want to do a whole lot --


that really can't wait.

In between the ships

I'm swimming over to you:


your side becomes mine.

My attention, where

does it go, what do I want --


to see of the world?

Don't ask 'How are you?'

if you really want to know --


Behaviour tells you.

The guests run away,

the staff is left with the feast --


left with the rumours.

The nest with swallows:

a squadron squeaks and swishes --


down onto our cat.

Between the words, I

write my anxiety: white –


that doesn't disappear.

Young people are poor thinkers
You must first feed them

on the fruits of that one
special tree of knowledge

of what is useful and detrimental
before they know anything

and once they get that
they understand

that it is the way it has to be
if one doesn't want to remain a paradise child

for whom everything must be ready
in a world without dangers

What is detrimental to that, is good
for humanity, although it is a pity

that many adults do not continue to eat
the fruits of that tree

Beyond the ideas

of we and they is a field --


where I wait for you.

The actor knows what

it's all about: pretending --


you're really human.

In empty places in the city
I stop for a while to see
if something is there anyway

Because attention must
be lead away from what you want
to keep unseen, like

God being unknowable, dressed
in the universe and hidden
under the invisibility cloak

of a religion, that gaudy
robe of customs
and holy words

Just like voids
they show nothing, just the nothing
if that existed

And yet I pay attention
whether something is noticeable
of the secret of everything

Here is the hotspot:

a meander of people --


queueing for a shot.

-------------------------------------------

The Welcome signposts

lead me deep into the maze --


At Shot I am out.

New Year, once again

things remain the same as I --


experienced them.

We wanted to say

so much, we told everything --


with our eyes only.

Thin sounds, far away,

from the small strawberry fields --


inside the teapot.

If your ambition

listens to wise words, then you --


only hear yourself.

Dad did it unnoticed
I was his princess
he fulfilled all my wishes
and I had no suspicion

We moved to France
I didn't have much to do
besides my lessons, enough
time for Eddie, a nice boy

I had the age
and suddenly it went fast
the engagement, the secret
of the rings, tailor, hairdresser

and then finally the wedding
Afterwards, I asked questions
Mama taught me that there is more
than the things that happen to us

more than what goes wrong
between people, we walked
away from the men
and counted our blessings

Memories, I had

few, in my youth, yet I thought --


they were worth nothing.

People only change

when someone else forces them --


They can't change themselves.

The sun goes down and

comes up again, endlessly --


I lived, as a child.

I dare to get into bed with you
Your big mouth is too small
for the world, your heart too big

for me, here I am
Well, tell, then I'll dream
with you, about you

in a purple cloak
the skin of innocence and power
Very discreetly, very discreetly

you take revenge
on anyone who does not get into action
and just lets everything happen

You issue wise orders
that camouflage your agenda
Much trouble for nothing

for though you loathe them
they are not another species
they are like you

only not angry enough
to be able to choose
what is important

That is the seed
the seed of your anger
Everyone's passivity

They are old, they laugh

at us men: the childhood friends --


still flirting like girls.

Alone. Between lonely hearts
understanding misunderstood others
with attention, my password
the master key in my genes

Kicking I already did it
not yet capable of anything else
as a baby, as a grownup
no one should unlearn it

no one should claim it
when he feels hurt
by hurt people, wronged
by the world

of sham adults
Come, I'm coming, just swallow
your reproaches
for a kiss

Bright flashes of light,

the rigging and the heather --


screaming the loudest.

Disillusionment:

seeing the ridiculous --


ignoring beauty.

They look at me, what

did I say?, I thought I heard --


someone else speaking.

An automatic

pilot does not make mistakes --


fatal ones at most.

A downpour, open

the door, then we all watch it --


not saying a word.

She bends over, her buttocks on show
while she puts her shoes away
She never looks through the window

I never can make contact with her
across the street and expose
me and my desire

It is hot, it's blowing so hot
through the city that I would leave
space in between us, caress her

only lightly, not lie against her
and first put out the light
or close the curtains, with a *****

by the window, happy to lie
awake from the heat, next to her
close to her body

The single greatest

economic power is --


bribeandcorruption.

To keep her and me

from being alone, I put --


an arm around her.

Our beautiful life, preserved
against the cold that may return:

cans with beans, old newspapers
worn out clothes, jars of jam
up to the ceiling
the hard land, and the hard way
of the great leaders, and the little ones
who fought for their own advantage
the heroes of steel, later torn
from their home and from the books

But we are still there, in our musty house
we still share - a beautiful life

Sand lays a ribbon

of rolling shapes covering --


the edge of the land.

Time is different:

not eternal, it follows --


itself by itself.

Oh, these good old days...

how elusively little --


is left of them now.

My world doesn't have to be bigger
than as far as my eyes reach
yet they see a new horizon
when I look around over there

.....Give me your hand, wait
.....a while with going and come
.....with me, together
.....we can be at home

I will always stand still
on street corners
looking where the sun is
where the clouds go

.....Take off your jacket, your fear
.....be happy here
.....take a bath
.....I'll give you a massage

Indefinite scents
blow over the beach
my feet push
bow waves in the sand

There are still places,

as usual, in the seats --


next to the bosses.