You'll find pointlessness

when you search from the outside --


for any purpose.

Her neck, I remember
was a round ivory tower
not too short, not too long

Snow-white skin
Snow White her name
Who would not love her!

Oh, her shoulders, firm
and soft her arms and legs
round ******* and hips

straight back, perfect beauty
Magic mirror on the wall
who is beloved by all?

We all wished to know her
and hear words from her mouth
that bear witness to our existence

If she was only there
then I could hope
to love her someday

It is just broken,

but no one said anything --


that is the bad thing.

Well, is man still in

the cradle of Earth? Would it --


predict anything?

Those in power no longer torture
a palace guard to rob a garden
from abroad for their lusts

no, nowadays money is enough
the magnetic big money
which always finds servants

Look closely at this painting
the colors are darker, and old
is the paint skin, forever

masterful are the brush strokes
yet this matter is only
just an attachment

for the trade in big names
the derivatives of art
with which profit is spoken

I pity old friends:

the old memories they share --


can be so hurtful.

The percussionists

are counting, they are alert --


to the right moment.

The circus! Led by

the animal with the nose --


that can walk along.

He caresses her

tenderly in the moonlight --


at least her shadow.

I'll resign, I will

no longer bear and downplay --


what keeps happening!

I was seventeen,

with all my being I longed --


to offer myself.

How weird, your trousers!

You really don't care, that's what --


I like about you!

Closing time, the farewell
almost over, the seats free
the table full, the glasses empty

I have to go, I'm leaving
Don't look at me like that, you
old singers in old frames

It's quiet on the street, I'm going
The moon is shining, we are turning
back to the sun already

The dogs stand
The scent of our love
has evaporated

The sheets are cold
Put an extra blanket
over your memory

It is getting dark, we walk away
from the couples, who, just like us
have not seen the sun go down

The picnic baskets are empty
You pack up the peels and I
pretend to look past you

pretend not to attract attention
knowing that
our skin is glowing for more

Your body shines
sculpted tensely
like a Greek god

I brush through your hair
The sea moans under the rocks
Our room is still far away

but I can imagine you
hanging out nicely, kneadable
in the grip of my hand

Prosperity fat

cannot escape gravity --


it sags to the grave.

My lawyer comes in

with a very thick folder --


and I lie in it.

Vibrating around

the bow- and harp-strings: the souls --


of the listeners.

It takes a while
before it will be over
with room for someone else
For now it is too empty

where you have always been
People soon forget that
when we have a chat
and laugh at something small

Your mother is great
She does what she can do
so without a man
You know the drill

the neighbour mows the lawn
He's really old
time and again he asks
where you have gone

But if I had known it beforehand
I would just as well have been in love
just as well be that woman
still in love with you

I am as the phrase

goes, deep in thought, pondering --


just about nothing.

One two, up we go!

Together we do pippop --


perthepop, hooray!

In times when you're bored,

you just don't know what to do --


with your vague desires.

I pulsate shock waves

of pleasure that start pushing --


tides into the sea.

An automated

answer produces a queue --


Length invisible.

I am just floating

around and almost ready --


to wake up slowly.

Yet what does it mean

that you have taken my hands --


in yours just like that?

Vernal cathedral:

wide open are the doorways --


of the tall beech lane.

Yet your desires too

move on large wheels -- do not run


over anyone!

I sweep up the shards

of my feelings, it's more soul --


than I expected.

The dear family

photo, with a golden edge --


of melancholy.

Think of the office

as a madhouse, then the rest --


is pretty normal.

Only if I don't pay attention
I see my thoughts
reflected in the world

and myself as a full moon
in the light of mankind
with, here and there, some spots

of defects, blood
shrinkage and disability
and shadows of bragging

then I know myself so light
as if I were the sun
as if it were me

who makes the moons shine
and the seagulls scream out
the day over the canal

Only now that I pay attention
I see the moons of my life
we are old

my thoughts and I, my world
from the new to the old moon

Mind what you see
then you see your life
from the new to the old moon

When I am with you,

so close that I become you --


I sing myself out.

The evening sun pours

a dayful of deep colours –


into the fish pond.

Everything goes slow,

his walking, his answering --


Always three dots first...

The nights are silent,

the ferries out of service --


everyone in bed.

The wind blows, the trees

are bare and wet, the full moon --


glides pale behind them.

The corner café

must close, because times have changed --


There is a new law.

My neighbours make love,

oh, so outrageously cheap --


these thin chamber walls!

If knowledge is off,

there are only wishful dreams --


as moral guidance.

Vividly coloured

straw flowers in the snowfield --


but they do not smell.

My perspective between the rusty leaves
is a dream house on the edge of the forest
picked up on the way, in the fall

Rich colours in the sun caress
the wooden skin flakes
of Mother Earth

and I am passing by
just a moment
a guest

We were once ashamed

together, now I'm ashamed --


of you, against you.

Textbooks in a heap,

the pages held together --


by dog-ears only.

An automatic

gun does not fire by itself --


There is time to think.

I'm wearing flowers,

coarse, prickly, it doesn't matter --


I want to bleed them.

Automatic belts

work without having to switch --


Are they analogue?

The moon shines sorrow

into me, yet I'm looking --


through a haze of tears.

Come and sit with us,

just take that chair over there --


standing all alone.

As a reader I

would like to buy with each book --


reading time as well.

I've an aversion

to fighting and to people --


The fight of my life.