Collecting little

bits of happiness: fresh bread --


and filling the bath.

He sniffs and he *****

all air out of the bedroom --


Open the window!

Dark clouds in the sunset glow
there's an invisible death below

Amidst apartment blocks, I stroll
around and around a new black hole
of concentrated matter

A broken-winged cargo plane smashed
friends of friends of friends of mine

It is quiet after the blow
I want to hear what I don't want to know
and then kiss away the danger
be it with a stranger

Caress me, caress me, make me glory
for a night, let me forget this story

It is the silence

that I notice all night long --


as if I'm dreaming.

I've been here before,

in this bed, and in this love --


room without a view.

Along the Lost Cost Quay
the cargo ships are almost drowning
while we party

in Oslo and Ghent, you dance
sparks from the floor, you dance
the delicate velvet petals

up, let them float
and return to the flower
Your shirt falls open

just enough to wish
for more, for no reason
just to experience

the lovely wonder of feeling
what I feel, myself, as if
your beauty is ******* me

We talk searchingly,

confidentially, as if --


we are weaving dreams.

Events flow through my head
faucets spontaneously spray
memories over my feet
Frogs jump out of the pool

What seemed so ordinary
is now demonstrating
and keeping me awake
Smashing the window panes

I hide behind the lace curtain
Shadows beat the drum
They live on the street
and declare me guilty

I am no longer safe
from the straight faces
and the doubts of my family
They slink through the house

It is peaceful here
       but this peace is suspicious
      
       warns the king
       Many inhabitants move
      
       to a palace in the clouds
       of Internet-land or they retreat
      
       to a high tower, sender and receiver
       of their own right, just listen
      
       to the echoes, just listen
       to my disgusting words
      
       Yes, if only someone did listen
       If only someone did listen
      
       unsure
       and loving
      
       back on earth

Unexpected things

never startle me, I just --


respond too slowly.

Her lips, and then she

runs off, leaving me, my lips --


on the cold hard glass.

The world is asking:

Love your neighbour as yourself –


It is the answer.

A big party, we

laugh and sing, louder, wilder,


and more and more -- free.

The hour has struck
Immediately we forget the time
and wish each other all the best
and boredom

that blessed can do everything
with the peaceful ticking
of grandma's clock without the hands
of an agenda that calls Action!

New Year, the realization
that time in ourselves never passes
In one body we are years
of experiences that are not closed

but do themselves well
on new discoveries and occasionally
set us thinking
about how it all comes together

Goats bleat on the roofs,

people wade to the market --


buses blow the horn.

Children ask questions,

and they learn a lot from that --


Just like adults do.

A glimpse of grandad,

he left immediately --


yet I still smell him.

The farmer has cows,

some poultry with a watchdog --


and holiday guests.

Mama is angry, she's letting me
I just should
be big enough
Her mummy time is over

since the divorce
No new beginning yet
I just should
be kind to her

indulge her and help her
until it's getting better
I just should
not mind the voices

that spit at me
with swear words
and cover my thoughts
I just should

listen to her and see
how I get rid of it
Is there anyone
who is not deaf to me?

I just should fix it myself
and if I can do that, mama
you can succeed as well
in being my mama again

I'm longing for him,

to fold himself around me --

wrap me up for good.

Narcissus prefers

to play alone, with mirrors --


as his string quartet.

I am so in love

that I must confess to her:


I don't write poems.

Is waiting waiting

if you start having a talk --


about who you are?

I almost started

kissing the lips above me --


but it's a doctor.

My things keep quiet,

they are absent in my home --


till I pick them up.

In the beautiful

merging of lovers, love turns --


out to be self-love.

Then, at the abyss,

a flame shoots up from us, licked --


by the total fire.

She has packed her things,

she is the moon with the sun –


shining in her eyes.

They can be loving:

father talks to the dog and --


my son lures the cat.

Behind the tears between my heart
and my head love is shining
inexhaustible I think

the clouds are just knots
and in rain love is pouring
too because it's the time

of Aquarius, the sun
of dear people shines
in my heart my open heart

I don't fly I am
strong because I have become
so and that makes me

beautiful you say with the seal
of the giving moon
and the all receiving

sun on your heart yes like you
see me I want to be, a flower
in our season

A poem he wants

to write about me. Do I –


have to pose for it?

People are party

to politics for the peace --


of self-interest.

We live a sober life, enough
is enough for me, and reserves
are necessary according to you

Everything is insured, luckily
no loans, we are working hard
because otherwise one has nothing

The children have their own lives
they won't take care of us
and are already asking for part

of their portion of inheritance, but it's stuck
in stone, in vaults, and in your head
that also wants to cover the coverage

People should grow up
and take care of themselves
reap their own harvest

though we could share more
relying on mutual aid
not just on our own character

in which lies the seed
the seed of greed
Our fear

Differences draw boundaries
and there are words for it:
baby, child, man and woman

red, brown, yellow, stupid and smart
black, white, compatriot, barbarian
We know all about it

there is a reason
that we are innocent
and others offenders

There are words for it
and answers too: punishment, pest
crash, bombs and grenades

manslaughter, hunting, gas and fire
all within the boundaries
of own laws first

At home, on this side and
at home, on that side of the border
people wish for peace

Something isn't right, if

you live more than usual --


during holidays.

The underworld is

close at hand: ****, poo and junk --


slimy and rotting.

Poverty teaches

in supermarkets: you must


kneel -- to the cheapest.

Some people blame me

for my normal, daily face:


You should have a rest!

Kiss as often as

you desire and kiss more, still --


you'll kiss too little.

New Year's Eve: we face

an abyss, dangerously --


we stand hand in hand.

I didn't learn
to live, I just
got used to it

and try to be myself
with friends who don't make demands
and are available

when I come or shout
that I'm lonely
but with you it's different

Sometimes I don't know afterwards
whether we were connected
and then I get lost

in my thoughts, so
there is no contact
and I must embrace you

feel the firmness
of your body
to believe in us

The war is a thief

of cries of despair, stealing --


until it's dead still.

I'm scared by a foot-

print in the sand, exactly --


my foot does fit in.

I get up and feel

that weather again, the sun --


on those Saturdays!

Between star and night,

between black skin and white skin --


our fire is burning.

We have competed

a lot over our fathers –


which of them was worse.

I'm looking for words

to understand my unease --


Oh, it is so vague!

The geese: satisfied,

lying back in the meadow –


dotted with daisies.

Dear grandma, I remember you

and a few of your stories

of the war, the little big

dramas to commemorate



my children only hear them half

because of the bombardment

of images of wars far away

daily in the news



so

we play reality today

to feel, to know

how rending it is



I am the grandma and my daughter

is her mother, the street breaks

after a shot, the air creaks

and we hold our breath

People read stories,

the travel maps of the world --


travel maps of lives.