The evening sun pours

a dayful of deep colours –


into the fish pond.

The evening twilight.

Tipping up, I see the white --


scuts of the rabbits.

The exercises

just stretch the right body parts --


to straighten me out.

The fairy tales are

over, since then they just tell --


how it really is.

The famous writer

is awfully shy, no one --


attends to his clothes.

The famous writer

never needs that many words --


just: The sea is large.

The farewell party

is especially festive --


for those who can stay.

The farmer has cows,

some poultry with a watchdog --


and holiday guests.

The feast is over,

there's ***** in the gutter –


feast for the starlings.

The feeling you are

being used is not as bad --


as being unused.

Attentively
humans have created
problems, throwing one after another
into the empty foreworld

They lacked norms, invented them
and were content with all the virtues
and vices to live from day to day
and also at night

They wanted to control everything
and created gods and leaders
with power, to be cruel
without strife in their hearts

The leaders organized it
with secret police and militia
with torture and contempt
and the people agreed to it

It became evening and morning
the morning of the fourth world
of the taboos and the dreams
of elusiveness and afterlife

Anyone and anything can be dangerous
be careful who and what you touch
also with roommates, neighbours, friends
dear colleagues and nice people

Better keep in touch virtually
just let the machines work together
because for us in the fifth world
it could be fatal

The fire is blazing,

so are the stories we tell --


setting us aglow.

The fire of my love

melts the ice of his deceit --


into many tears.

Men are cautious
they rather spurn their chances

than to rely on their noses, but
they can be seduced to take a little bite

if you insist and
have not gotten sick from it yourself

Indeed, it started
with the famous apple, a fig

After the first one he too wanted more
We learned

to look through the foliage
to remember where the trees are

and how to get there, to smell
where the fruit is ripe

We got up earlier than the others
and left in the moonlight

to be the first just a little further away
and get the prize

We grew in our head
and became human

When the child was playing outside
without mum and dad

without anyone, by itself
with a bee and the blow-ball

of a dandelion
there were horses too

further out in the meadow
it said aloud to love:

How many we are!
Looking around in delight

with a deep sigh
without wishing anything

that was not there, the child cried out
with wide arms: Yes!

The horses pricked up their ears
and indeed, love was there:

they felt it in their hooves
they breathed it in, and out

and all their skin began to glow
Excited they looked at each other

Do you feel, do you feel it? she blew
Yes it's wonderful, he whinnied

It is awesome! they all
snorted and stamped

The foals were hopping around them
For them, it was the first time

The great sea
foams impetuously
The ships are struggling

through, dive up
from the waves, again and again
on their way to the port

that tames the wild water
The fish fly
out of the hands of the skippers
quickly ashore, to high piles

under the brown-red sky
of the setting sun
and the ships leap up

On the dark horizon
the sea is dreaming restlessly
in a night without time

The fish requests for

asylum, with a suitcase –


I open my mouth.

The flag has long frays,

like her hair when she left me --


Her hair in the wind.

Under the Peace Flag
there is the most freedom
to continue the war
referring to provisions
in the Treaty of Peace

There is always a story
to tell about the past
an era to choose
in which is founded
what was lost, a Golden Age

to which the people are entitled
and in which they will arise:
everything will be fine
as long as you have the last word
and silence the dissenters

those traitors of the truth
and the ideals of the revolution
Fight for equal rights
of our oppressed brothers
Free them!

Restore the territory
the foundation of the wealth
and the power of the leaders
then they might grant you
a large statue

The flags are blowing:

a miserable view, these --


ostentatious flags.

The flawless bellhop

carefully lays my suitcase --


down like a loved one.

The floor is ceiling:

you see a metal flower --


spinning beneath you!

The flower necklace,

she throws it away, doesn't want --


to be manacled.

The fluctuating

flood-mark, a boundary of --


dry seaweed flowers.

Humans can be strong
like a bear, with a gun

or a cannon, and swim
like the fastest fish, with sails

or a motor, they can
even fly with large wings

that don't need to strike
and therefore are not real wings

An airplane is a thing
the true flyer is the Fly

All birds are jealous of it
because it wears the crown

of its name, credit
where credit is due: the Fly

The fly explores me,

tickles my arms and my hands --


It cannot be caught.

The forget-me-not

on your grave sows on your grave --


more forget-me-nots.

I've celebrated it
forty, fifty, sixty, the ten-
year steps of my life

have been preserved as memories
among the countless parties
of others, just like me

aging and remaining who they are
even though something starts
not to correspond in the mirror

When did that happen?
Was I present?
With my friends?

On forgotten in-between days?
When my hair thinned, my skin
weakened, and I became different

from how I feel – everywhere
where I touch myself
it is still familiar

I am ageless in life
with a deeply rooted pen
that wants to continue to enjoy

the taste of the deep
water, filtered through the earth
sunk from the present

The fountain is clear,

I dry myself with some grass --


The nightingale sings.

The friction between

I am me and you are you --


is love and loveless.

The Friesian horses,

stepping in black cloths with hoods --


and snorting with life.

The front wheel drags, grr,

short of breath I cycle on --


panting like a dog.

The full moon enchants

the city, I wonder why –


no one is looking.

The full moon is so

beautiful! to keep looking –


is só difficult.

The further I am

travelling, the less I know --


actually know.

The future eats me,


which I don't mind, as long as --



I feel the chewing.

The future hides it-

self like a chameleon --


in the blackest black.

The gate has no bell,

no one opens when I knock --


It comes down to me.

The geese: satisfied,

lying back in the meadow –


dotted with daisies.

The geese: vigilant

next to their grass-green droppings --


Sated in the sun.

The giantess likes to eat
cake pans, crunchy
fishshells with fishink

cheese boards and cell goblets
gland sweat, salad Russians
peachicks and bean runners

she sniffs up sausage smoke
and krautsauer, munches
on fruit stones

takes tomatoes for desert
with white cheese goats
and always hungers

for Himmel und Erde

The gigantic wheels

of light emerge from the sea --


like super spaceships.

I think a lot about the girl
from the camp in Guantánamo
she is a flower among the flowers
a mountain in the mountains, she lives
and never has to go anywhere

There, birds are singing in the palms
a stream flows through the valley
the water shines softer than gold
and she is a white rose
in June and in January

About her, I want to write
sunbeams in the eternal forest
a sparkling song from my heart
in bright green words
and flaming red music

She is my soul, she melts
weapons with feathers and coral
water, with laurel she heals
the wounded deer, the girl
from the camp in Guantánamo

The girl I follow

would really like to kiss me --


if she just knew me.

The girl is staring,

thinking hard of what she thinks --


she really doesn't know.

The girl just watches,

her parents build tall towers --


till they fall over.

The girl keeps wriggling,

at her wrists and her ankles --


tossed into the sea.

The goats bleat among

the audience, bleat among --


lines of poetry.

The goddess of love

likes to sleep with the strong god –


of war and killing.

Again it is happening
thoughts I have more
than the urge to participate
I'm dreaming of a kiss

and more lying ahead
Again I don't know why
also tonight I don't
just take action

even though I see opportunities here
I still don't find a way
to join, to take
a step with a joke

or careless gesture
I wish I could
but
we run past one another
like gods without a sun