A row of benches

bends along the garden paths --


for the elderly.

He jumped up
made a somersault with twist
and is back in the circle again

as if nothing happened
in those four seconds
(I guess)

(how was it?)
a flash of beauty
to meditate on now

falling into place myself
from the space of possibilities
and ignorance

Maybe I stay there
maybe it will shift
maybe it stays

Art is a shadow

play of life, both cannot be --


understood deeply.

Art misleads you to

think you understand something --


and to stop thinking.

In the museum, the wind blows
from everywhere to everywhere, like us
visitors from all over the world

We carry a culture web, nourish it
with the collections of the museums
which are larger than their buildings

We carry the art
with us, it is greater than we are
greater than our time and abode

We carry out the art
the history that connects us
and always does continue where it ends

A rubber bath duck,

croaking in an ***** pipe --


participating.

As a baby, I

had a lot of fun falling --


into daddy's hands.

As a baby, I

had a lot of fun falling --


into daddy's hands.

As a child, I didn't

look for gnomes in the forest –


I looked at the moss.

As a child I felt:

there is a secret in me --


big, for the whole world.

As a child I roamed

the grounds, barefoot through puddles --


and I still do that.

As a little child

I already cried and laughed:


don't leave me alone.

A sand compass rose;

I raise my finger and ask --


what wind is blowing.

As a priest one serves

in the churches in the hell --


of confessionals.

As a reader I

would like to buy with each book --


reading time as well.

A scientist fears

not knowing something, he flees --


into a safe niche.

A shelter is good,

I know, I have to get up –


and plant a tree now.

As if everything

revolves around me I see --


people flashing by.

As if God sees us

like the people on tv --


look blindly at us?

As if my body

is new, and I, again, have --


to search for the brake.

As if sweet Eve ate

the apple and handed over --


the core to Adam?

A silvery sky,

dark and quiet the mountains --


as if sound asleep.

Asking for my stick,

and for my glasses, that's it –


my life without you.

A sledgehammer kills,

or it may loosen a thought,


something from the past.

A sleepy village,

the doors and shutters are closed --


Dogs barking loudly.

Look, do you see it's me?
Don't mind the poppies
don't mind my skin, my head

without hair, okay, you may
see the earrings, they're winking
to the desirable gold

that you only know *******
tight above unadorned ears
It was only loose at home

I tried lipstick
and became invincible
a robot woman full of energy

The pain does not count, I'm alive
experience after experience
a different person

The pain does count, I like
to live, take all
chances, give

anything for it
as long as it goes, as long
as I can, as long

as my energy flows love

As long as we live,

we're living in the future --


when making choices.

A small hatch opens

in the fog, there's a small hand --


waving a little.

A sorcerer doesn't

need a wand or other stuff --


Words are sufficient.

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

As serfs of ourselves

we all do long to live free --


for one another.

A steel thinking-frame

may be the toughest of all –


but it rarely fits.

A steel thinking-frame

may be the toughest of all –


but it rarely fits.

The giant that stopped me
was a wall on the bank
of the big river, far
beyond the palaces

where servants like angels
provided a heaven on earth
for princes and princesses and always

there were naked sages before the gate
begging to warn the people
that they shouldn't have any illusions

There was a small hatch in the wall
which opened for an old hand a moment
giving me an ordinary pebble

It was a stone from paradise
on the other side of the wall
It was smooth. What to do with it?

I am just such a stone, polished
by life and in the future
falling to dust, pity us

stones from paradise
on this side of the wall
where the kings suffer in seclusion
from boredom and the trouble
to keep it that way

A stone on a stone

on a stone, that's how I climb --


higher and higher.

A storm is rising,

my peace is disturbed, I have --


to get on with life.

A stranger falls, and

as he falls he is breaking --


in into my life.

A stranger passed by,

we had to watch him: he went –


where we dare not go.

A streak of perfume

across the floor, I am scared --


by the intense smell.

A sultry evening,

with red veil ribbons, the sea –


wild, dancing naked.

A summer lover:

the night is over sooner –


than we go to sleep.

He is late, as usual
It's his car, he decides
when we go home
At least, if he does come

And after the party he will say: 'Come
it was a nice evening, wasn't it?'
but if he absolutely needs to
I'll let him, I'll let him

come until he screams
for mercy - nobody can hear it
The wind will blow, the grass will wave
and I will turn around to sleep

I love him, I know why
and he should be able to do better
I am worth it, and he too
If I only could teach him

As warm spring water

your hand flows over my skin –


I become liquid.

As we know, people

like to play, preferably --


with favourite thoughts.

A swelling clamour,

I hear it with my dream-ears --


they're never asleep.

A tangled patchwork,

bits of all kinds of people --


that's how Mumbai was.

At dawn, a sea breeze,

in the evening, a land breeze –


in between: my day.

The wash turns and hums
It sounds content
No birds, quiet
as in a dream

You got up early, I know
how you unfold a shirt
pull it over and enjoy
the cool fabric

...I don't feel like
...getting dressed yet, wait
...at the kitchen counter

...until the tea is brewed
...then I fold your clothes
...very precisely and lay them
...in the closet. What shall I

...cook for you tonight
...and what shall I wear?
...First something warm
...to do the grocery shopping

At home, I am safe,

bút… No, no But, Buts are No's –


At home, I am safe!

A thought is super-

ficial, not so is an act,


an experience.