Dementia: rats

gnaw your head empty, softly –


their fur is itchy.

The yellow glow scares me
Already this afternoon, when things got blurry
yet I seemed to be awake for a second
from the pain in my belly

It shouldn't be, I don't want it
My belly must be safe
for the baby, hopefully
it will soon be over

here, in my own bed
oh, what is happening?
I gotta get out, close the curtain
against that dreadful moon

All is well, the doctor said
but I couldn't get up
and not thank him
I just lay there

Guy smiled and the doctor shove
something into me, not as nice and sweet
as I am used to with Guy
not even in my wildest dreams

Demonstration and

imitation, play and learn --


to play together.

Depicting the Now:

vibrations of the breakers --


the wave of Being.

Depressed, no feelings,

I think I see everything --


without illusions.

Design angels, then

you get beautiful humans


(just try the reverse)

Destruction, and then

the dust settles, the wind blows --


Of a new era?

Sometimes thinking is making difficult
what is simple, but uncomfortable
to admit, yet the children are happy
with what their parents explain

for example that they have to learn
to mistrust Evil, which is talking idly
and giving free tickets
that you will suffer for after your life

You know that it isn't true
It isn't even from hearsay
and far from everyone
is thinking about it that way
so, as long as nobody gets serious
you can just do as you please
the older children have found out

What else does Evil
harm than the tender soul
of the adults and the good
they have devised for you?
To be a victim, or an offender –
it is a devilish dilemma

The morning dawns, I step out of bed
Because I want to feel it, I go through

being born in public, I undress myself
in the street and it feels funny

I caress my goosebumps, it's embarrassing
that I have to *** on the waterfront

We're standing still not to fall
Shoulder before shoulder all together

We're standing still for the picture
like athletes at the start, we stretch, forget

the small hard shelves, the extending toes
and the cold iron between **** and legs

We're standing still as if we hover –
an arch of bellies soft

stretched over the canal
Venuses for a moment

Our relationship faded to some

words loaded with feelings
around a heartful of rust
Beautiful memories

The colour of your eyes

That first time, lost
in each other, together
we found the way

Everything you are good at

that you have to let go anyway
Gifts without pretension
given hand in hand

for the hotel, in falling leaves

Breathing clouds without text
Snowflakes adorn our hair
It might last forever

Did someone call me?

I listen and I answer –


to the empty air.

Did something go wrong

in this phone call? I don't know.


I don't think so. Right?

These circumstances, difficulties
and your behaviour
lately

I don't know myself that way
although I see a bit more
who I am, and you, we

and how things are going
Unsolicited
I just have to

make the best
of it again
What should be different?

Two, three things
now you that you ask
If it's possible

And then
make the best of it
together

Difficult questions

are no fun, you don't ask them –


to yourself, do you?

Dilated pupils

in a swollen, white face, that's --


what sadness looks like.

I walk through the village
The sun shines, the wind blows
a little through my hair

The shutters are closed
with chinks thin as needles
with long narrow eyes
      
My shadow doesn't fall inside
anywhere, there are none
in the dim rooms
      
where the light drearily
obscures what is going on
and what the consequences are

of everyone's comings and goings
The peeping people press me
as compelling devils

out of their eyes
out of the chinks in their lives
The sun upon me is insufferable

Before we can no longer
seal the cracks
of windows and doors
against betrayal
we must take other risks
to preserve our dreams

Until we can no longer
dance away our common
powerlessness in love songs
with our hands and hips
and sing along with
the happiness and the longing

Then to dance with eyes and lips
and to sing along together
to drown out the sorrow
of the unwanted
farewell that we take
without saying goodbye

The apples taste like oil
the wind erases our traces
on the cracked skin
of the pale earth where
nothing flourishes and nothing thrives
It erases our contact

In the dense net of roots
lives the dog, the ***** dog
that everyone knows, but never
speaks to or looks at, a glimpse
of that ***** old dog is enough

Persephone takes him
above the ground, hidden
between her legs, he looks
at the Queen of the country
waving in a golden coach

He is a King himself
in his own world
content with his fate
content with his fame
as a ***** old dog

Life is fleeting
but human knowledge
feeds the earth, new roots
grow new rooms to
the old dog's home

the ***** old dog
***** old dog
old dog

Disabled people

evolve, as human beings --


they become braver.

Discontent: standing

like a cow in driving rain --


your *** to the wind.

Like you, I look
for the distinctions to understand
what has been

different in the womb
in the neighbourhood where we grew up
and with the people who lived there

And I do not know
We look alike, this or that way
we rolled down a sand hill

whistled on a straw or acorn cap
discovered the zero after a lot of counting
learned to write with bread

and tried our best to get permission
to eat the letters, it was
all differently the same

Also the uncles and the aunts
and the children from the neighbourhood:
the differences are numerous

but too small
to be able to catch them
So I have to swallow

and admit that it is true
that you are just as good
as I think I am myself

We are living in a poor country
since we took it back
and whoever stays must pay

in kind, we take it
very personally, man by man
with violence, we subject

the last woman to our right
to penetrate her like she
and the other foreigners

have, for six generations
penetrated our lives, that's how
we ****** our daggers of hate

in her, she is defenseless
her dogs stay still
in their blood, she too has

to resign herself to her fate
the disgrace of life
and the grace of death

Disillusionment:

seeing the ridiculous --


ignoring beauty.

Divided country:

many carry two buckets --


as a lighter load.

To take care of you, help
others, perform projects of my own
undisturbed, without being troubled

by anyone or anything, or
being
obliged to anything

Show what I'm worth
and then do something
very different

Sit at home together
cosily on the couch
reading about adventures

and suddenly set out
just like that, being free
and still belonging

I want it all

Dividing people

into friends and enemies --


that's just indolence.

Divine help is for

young people, and then they have --


to do it themselves.

Do as he does, stare

at him, scan his body, and --


see his discomfort.

Do create something

beautiful, just practise and --


pay close attention.

As if I mocked him
or Love, so wounded
he dreams me

on swift legs
a doe-woman
without bow and arrow

graceful, and shy
slender, and modest
wise, but a woman

subject
to his desire
to possess

my desires
sharp in view
as I run, longingly

looking at him, panting
entangled in his hands
until he is satisfied

As if I mocked him
or Love, so wounded
he dreams me

on swift legs
a doe-woman
with bow and arrow

the graceful
counterpart of the centaurs
equally shy, but more slender

equally modest
but not didactic
equally wise, but a woman

equally free, but subject
to his desire to possess
my desires, and to let me

do as he pleases:
to stay sharp in view
as I run, to look with longing

at him, and panting, entangled
in his hands, to keep looking
until he is satisfied

Does a girl really

need to learn to see herself --


as their *** object?

My love, why are you still dreaming
of the Madonna I don't want to be?
Why are you standing at the window
with your back to the woman
who wants to take care of you?

Do you see only short circuits
in the depths of the city, car in
car out, while you want a woman
who is above that, averse
to backseat fiddling?

Why do you dream
of escaping? What makes
her nest, my affection a cage?
Why do you dream
of Mona Lisa?

Is there no power there?
Is it only sparking, faintly
somewhere between your belly
and your head? Does it spark
with her too? You hope?

Does society

choose my friends critically --


from people on hand?

Do I hate my job?

No, not enough to quit and --


start doing nothing.

Do I know myself,

now that I believe I see --


that you look like me?

Doing everforth,

no slowscurf by lingersmoke:


feber neverrest.

Do I prefer to

remember, forget, forgive --


or be forgiven?

Do I see the tree

or do I just remember --


the image of it?

Do it, blame me
that you get little attention
It's true

I am
occupied with myself
I'm very well aware

that my life is too short
to postpone

what is important
not only you

also my peculiarities
pleasures, habits
and responsibilities

for my health, at home
with the neighbours and at work
I am proud of it

whatever you think of it
so do it, blame me
that I love myself

Do I want to know

your suffering to get some --


idea what mine is?

Do love thy neighbours,

ánd practise what is better:


the love for farbours!

A sphinx in the desert grabs my feet

.....What is small, soft and weak
.....but stronger than the hardest marble?

.....Do not count on what you have learned
.....do not count on what you think now
.....do not count on what you will know later

.....but surrender to the answer
.....or burn alive in the sun!

The standing heat and my resistance
against this exam dehydrate me

I lick the salt from my lips
fold my hands over my head
until they sting and get exhausted

my sweat evaporates
my skin is bursting
sand fills the slits

I dream of drops
that close me
one by one, slowly

making a way deep
into my fibres, and the sphinx nods
She releases me

.....Here's a roof
.....here's a well
.....take a rest and move on

Don't ask for the sense

of what's happening to you --


no, you must keep heart!

Don't ask 'How are you?'

if you really want to know --


Behaviour tells you.

Don't be sad, let go

of separation rush, dive --


into a wide life.

Don't constantly strive

to be happy, then you live –


a lot happier.

Don't dream, only then

will you see the light, won't you --


be blinded by it.

Don't ever leave me,

if you do so anyway --


please, let me find you.

Don't fear disaster,

grandma says, but I dream it --


happens anyway.