So, what is my life:

my existence, being there --


plus my history.

Without any tears,

her eyes are crying sorrow --


and love into me.

I'm looking for words

to understand my unease --


Oh, it is so vague!

My kisses ask you:

please love me, I do love you --


because I kiss you.

Repairs all the time,

to stay myself, my meta-


morphical body.

A jar full of worms:

they're trying to creep away --


without a leader.

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

Depicting the Now:

vibrations of the breakers --


the wave of Being.

The truth in the lie

must be recognizable --


or the lie won't work.

I wandered through the village
in the woods of densely formed trunks
and I was told that it is not a forest

but a tree, I drank sweet tea
under the ******* aerial roots
and the thick foliage above it

The woman I spoke to, laughed
at my wonder and took my hand
She led me to the middle

where our surrender embraced the trunk
which was too thick for four outstretched arms
The red ribbons touched our head

Back on the terrace on the edge
where the young trunks in the lake
form a living canopy

we saw a flight of parrots
The birds were shouting at us
'No Hurry', they yelled every time

when they passed in the bright colours
of their message: 'No Hurry!
Be Wappy!'

Clouds are approaching,

they are dark, I seize the days --


The sun is still shining.

Today, an excursion to a temple
somewhere further along the river
and we don't take anything with us

although no one seems to be there
so there will be no daily rites
This must be a lesson

We walk single file
through the forest, we walk
over the edge

of a basin, we are there
in the middle of the temple
a row of orange flags

in the open cave
of the waterfalls
of time

which overwhelm me
and carry me away, for a week
I can't be found

Only the forest sees me
while my body meditates
and does not know that I exist

We eat a fresh-caught crab fish
in the setting sun and as in the old books
of my mother, we count the ticking
of the clock from time to time
you say old books also are okay

Another carrot and a pun
once more delaying
the unavoidable farewell kiss
no more calling on each other
I really don't know what to say

The riches we have

are limited, we want more --


attention, on call.

Hi boy with the bike on the vase full of bloom
.........................................................pl­oom ploom
hi chair by the table
hi bread on the table
hi fisherman-fish with the pipe
........................and
hi fisherman-fish with the cap
.................cap and pipe
..........of the fisherman fish
..........................hi

Hi-i fish
hi sweet fish
hi little fishy mine

His brotherly love

carries a knife, in my life --


nothing may go wrong.

My things keep quiet,

they are absent in my home --


till I pick them up.

People read stories,

the travel maps of the world --


travel maps of lives.

A streak of perfume

across the floor, I am scared --


by the intense smell.

Maybe we were once stranded here
on the slopes of these mountains
between the white peaks and the low land

We certainly came up with words
to tell that story
and we went into the world

with that answer to the question
Where do we come from?
From the belly of the boat

as the image of our Mother
Earth, who is born where she is
in the lap of heaven

above the Holy Mountains
which kiss eternity
on the border of our existence

We move on and give names
to the world we discover
Time and space embrace us

I am not myself,

I'm in love, I am waiting --


for him for hours now.

The castle ruins

have an imposingly high --


ceiling with real stars.

Together we pick

handfuls, there's gold everywhere --


the buttercup gold.

Kiss as often as

you desire and kiss more, still --


you'll kiss too little.

He sniffs and he *****

all air out of the bedroom --


Open the window!

Quiet as a child

in his mother's arms, quite so --


even is my soul.

My love spell on you:

take only notice of me --


only care of me.

No one is themselves,

people are always leaking --


in each other's lives.

If you don't forgive

you'll drink poison, hoping that --


the other suffers.

Covered by the night

I visit you secretly --


That is the rumour.

Are there aliens

inside the clouds? Who is there --


rummaging about?

We only 'conquer'

our own place in the world by --


living together.

*** since the helminths,

derailed into a big deal --


for human beings.

The perfect woman

is from marble, and barefoot –


she stays where she is.

Automatic face

recognition: wearing masks --


for your privacy.

We shout many views,

are seldom examining --


our very standpoints.

He's vulnerable,

just look at the craquelure --


over grandpa's eyes.

Farewell: we don't eat,

it just seems that way, as you --


also see in plays.

When he concentrates,

his legs begin to tremble –


then he says something.

that it soon will be over

that I'm not here, not now
that I feel everything I don't want
that I feel nothing but aversion

that I fell into a sinkhole
that I might be filmed and
that I'm not recognizable, he is, so

that I have proof
that I dare to show
that I don't know who he is
that I'm afraid of what's to come
that I'm going to die painfully for the reason

that he infects me incurably, but also
that he himself will perish much worse
that he will be humiliated by everyone
that he wishes himself miles away, of misery
that he falls into a sinkhole

that it will swallow him up frightfully, yes
that it buries him alive
that it dazes him in a scary dream

that he roams in it for years
that he only after that will fall asleep exhausted
that he wakes up from his delusion again

that I stop him with love
that I receive him with love, but
that I don't get pregnant

that meanwhile, I'm thinking all
this

On the photo you don't see
that the water stands still
and you can think

that the sea has almost taken
the land and the house
will soon drift away

A person just has to take
other points of view
to find out something

and to keep living in the world
not in appearances, not in set
pieces of one's own fantasy

empty, unless actors populate them
of whom you no longer know after a while
whether they are acquaintances of you

but your own images nestle
in your head, they fit exactly
whereas the world is uncomfortable

The sun hangs on
just above the water
With romantic feelings
the old people look

at us on the rocks
where we read to each other
They don't see the ants
only our young bodies
and in mind, they add the lizards

A foghorn sounds at sea
but there is nothing to see
until suddenly around us
the bathers on the concrete blocks
become who they seemed to be:

ghosts cherishing themselves
in the warmth on their skin
They turn around and wait
sleeping for the sun

With their girl, tough men

melt, she is already soft --


she gets tough later.

The psychiatrist

desperately deals hard blows --


to me, to my thoughts.

From now on, dare to

be tough, firm and resistant --


more than a man's wish.

Shadows slide along

the tree line in the evening:


the wood gatherers.

Forgive me
I don't want to explain away
the fact that I needed time

to put the consequences
of one or the other
together

The appearances may be against me
but I didn't hold aloof
really, I never wait and see

I don't look away
I just look thoroughly
for a well-considered decision

because so much is happening
and often there is no clear line
in all the details

And I don't want to do anything wrong
That is the seed
of my passivity

My aversion to misdeeds

You did, you said: I.

How dare you! What do you think!


That you are something?

Retirement is nice,

grandad shows it in his chair:


never to get up.

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