She was a sea girl
but
apparently things change
and
She is a river girl
now.

I don't know what he thought
or wanted to accomplish
coming over to my shop
and bringing over my mail
of course
to enlighten me on her hair
to elaborate on her curves
some ****** nerve
you have to go against my wishes
to bother me at work
to hurt me all over and
again.

shells in my left pocket
train ticket in my right
it takes a lot of
travelling to feel part of
the world again

Still in love with the image
Yet in doubt when the clouds
Come in, move away from me
My sun sparkles blue
The ocean stays dark
A birdsong is white
It's all tattooed on me
On shoulder and back
You wanted me in a line
Without reading between mine

I wanted to write you
a letter and now and here
I am
in a hotel room I
suddenly
feel the freedom
have escaped again
you know my score
So
I wanted to write you
to say that
after all and still and here
I love you, my one
I'm sorry, we were
so
mad unable
to stop that
the better version of me
got a hold for
stronger or worse
yet feel all this time
to
leave your anger, my calls
allow the sun, our laughs
Rather than to forgive
I wanted to write you
How to never forget
the sounds we shared

Love, always,
your one

about people who call
and
people who are being called

Listening to this singer singing
about a rubber band for the soul
I wish I would have thought of
that, word-wise and soul-wise
Do they really make those? I'm so
irresistibly attracted to soreness to
happiness with heartbreak with
no brakes but I do have a ribbon
though suffice to keep my
curls from messing up

and she's not ready to leave
yet although she knows
she has known for a while now
That he is her true love
Still her true destroyer
she just cannot let go
it is no masochism of any kind
it is just balancing out the pain
with the effort with freedom
with feeling lost
and finding joy again.

Too addictive and you know
it's wrong cos resting is right
yet to continue seems better
to just drink, talk, be in the company

Too nice and you know
it's tentative cos working is right
but to create feels better
to just film, sing, be in the mood

It probably leads to nothing
nor nowhere
but what does in life
anyway

It probably leads to enjoyment
or wastement
but why not in life
waist time.

Why's there a sparkle in your eyes?

Burning my daylight
on being social
Getting drunk only occasionally
now and a smoke on the side
Not figuring my things out
Not starring in admin or taxes
But it isn't true I am letting life
passing by I think
grabbing the same amount of
opportunities as the threats
passing by I say
So in the end I'm fine doing
my funky job, my walks with
the dog, my looking for friends
Not loving it but it keeps me
on the street and I am happy
slipping by I imagine

High expectations
Low self-esteem
Loud mouth
Little heart
Fatal combination
To love x life
Still some hopeful days
Left though

I guess it's not about
tempting faith or not
testing fate I guess
it's more
me testing me
how far to go
figuratively - literally
I don't know
buying tickets on a high
thinking intimidation on a blue
or even confusion maybe
retrospectively
Still and all setting off
literally - figuratively
merely
assuring that answers and lucky
are nothing more than that

All of a sudden she turns
why you're looking at my legs
all the time?
I didn't know what to say
Everyone looking
Stealthy laughs and
silence and the real reason
was just so lame.
I was just wondering
How can anyone drink
so much orange juice
all the time
and stay so skinny and free?

When I was little I only watched Pippi plus
a series with a wizard and his daughter
who was able to make time stop by
simply clapping her hands, saying now
I do this and time stands still. Don't
you just love the idea of being able
to be in a shop and try sweets
to be in a queue and just skip
to play your favourite song forever
to wear your dearest dress every day
To kiss you over and over and
over again.

The veins in her legs
more x more apparent
the lines in her face
more x more profound
Eyes still sparkling
Power of age

Would you mind at
all that much to live
with me, he asked her
All hope and cool
while walking their
city river running right
on the square where
her father had his shop
First spring light, the sun
tries a green blushing
Could it be that she
completely missaw what
embraced a home?
A silence so sensefully
inclusive, momentously
marked by this choice
so serious and whole hearted
she could not say anything
but yes. Justified her soul
that moment, that square
That made her lose sight
of her father's protection
in view of herself never
capable to choose
boundaries nor homes.

In a sudden silly moment
of madness
she thought she should
be able to tell the truth to
the one she loves
Flat on the table
a loud bang, his cup
jumping up from its saucer  
rolling off away
He had no intention to go
though
and she was paralysed anyway
like she is and always will be
when someone's so so mad.

It's NYE and I don't care
where we're going
as long as
I don't need to read
a menu
a sunset
Is what I need
a nother glass verily
a band rocking on
Make me happy
buy me ice cream
we've missed the eve
In the end
the clouds like a blanket
that other look in your eyes 
A new decade coming on.
Year of yes.
Together or no.

Glimmers of light
on the dining table
all set and she is
strong, tall, kind
to him. Moving
like a butterfly
setting the table
using crystal glasses
Not to impress him
it's her job she's just
fit to do. To please
him and to see him
without expecting
anything in return.

I hold my breath
(cannot even get to ten)
Glue myself back together
(ten-second untraceable)

Watching music day out

Feeling the words
(ten tabs open @my Apple)
Echoes of encounters
I happen on the train
(the ten fortyfive)

To travel is to come alive

I am not thinking
I am not back home
(ten times no)

Really really wanted to
write a few
lovely lines        
about you and about
our years and
about our love
and about the blue
flowers 
you showed me
that day and
I closed my eyes
I needed to

so extremely tired
dressing up exhausts me
******* for bed again
the effort of cooking too much
but I never liked food for one anyway
cannot bring myself to do anything
else than drink and watch shows
in abundance
like i like it
like we used to

Those tough little mind games,
hunny...don't.
Those smooth empty promises,
please...don't.
Those arms around me,
please...do.
And these kisses too.

Nothing else needed.
You're fine as I am.

you called me to explain
you weren't sure you
wanted to talk through
still I knew enduringly well
you shouldn't stand a change
not yet, not now, or
just not
without a kiss and a house
without some things worth
remembering together for a longer  
time, for which you drew closer
yet I just relentlessly estranged
away, for which you given't me
that much space as we needed
It is never what you want
so much to dream about,
this
better be devastatingly excellent
yet I knew it was the one about
the man I shouldn't have dreamt 
about the example I set years
before then, so it became indeed
confounding to make this decision
myself, unexpected and curiously
misleading to have taken anything
you love away from you whilst 
being part of your own decision,
for which
I’ll never love you as much as I loved you 
then.

No, it's not that far
I just remember how
to turn to long hair
your mini skirt, to
climbing trees
jumping streams
and make it through
Graduating in '75
we would rock 'n' roll
that summer your smile
made the sky spin
hanging around to
eat oranges and trip
the shade of the trees
on our flat stomachs
and your white top
Those days in heaven
we just believed we
had a birth right to
swim in Jason's pool
cruise in my dad's Ford
Born at the right time
Listening to the music
for the rest of my life

when growing up what you wanna be
when grown up who you want to see
perform before...well, you know.

for their 10th anniversary she
bought him a new tv set
for her 50th birthday he
a new car - wrong colour
for Christmas a ski trip
for Summer a new kitchen
everything purchased
with best wishes
for the perfect memory
for a perfectly happy day

an orange in the morning
yellowy sunlight sets through
the clouds, blueing up the sky
gets the green in another dimension
gets an evening red that glows
up trees in Mondrian's blue and violet.
But the moment I open my eyes I
feel the winter grey I'm not good
at. The desert deserting the ocean.
The gusts and waves through a coat.
So in black I draw the shades
around the heart, heeding for the
white light of Sun and Moon discs
always. The stars out of reach,
one can only see the seven rainbow
colours through the water drops
once a strange new day has begun
once the sand dunes start to move.
I cannot control foreshadows
I cannot measure the shifts of dunes.

You have to come with me
It really doesn't seem much
indeed, merely concrete
we don't know nice cafes
or satiric entertainment
Yet the waves sound
And the shore looks
different from up there
So they did, and she is true
Why was I not up here
all the weeks I walked
to follow the sand rather
having looks deceive or
focusing on the idea that
all these extra thoughts
I'd thought 'm away - missing
the clouds hang over the hills
hinder sundown in spring -
the birds all out; now, finally,
there I was catching a perfect
eventide, towerend waves
while azul shines through the
boys in line for a perfect surf
No cloud to strike
No thought to mind
No wish to wait for
storm anymore, anywhere
else.

Mustering my army of coats
without knowing why this tower
why nan and uncles were always on
about a proper robe, the sturdy winter
one, a cascading summer one.

One for every fall in order that
when you parade, you still see the
seasons, you feel no shivers.
So we started with costly coats
though I marched for fleas or thrifts

Doing life the other way around
for richer then poor, cast-offs
outside the high street as new life
to your older self - my boundless
battle of beauty and staying warm

I still find you even before
we really realise each other
His lean figure jigging down the bridge
in our former harbour city
With my friends on a boat for drinks
they sense him after my stillness
loss of composure and
successful office smile
They sense him changing body
and words easy but vain
the right moment to do so
sticks and stones remember
You pass unnoticed in the mob
I return to the warmth of mine
We will never get rid of each other
But reality ever on the lookout

The silver rippling of a lake
so vast she couldn't imagine
ever reaching for shore.

She plays nice weather
although her waves stir
roar around the rocks

he is when he
behaves like he does
which is not and he isn't
Finished yet.

They settled his head on two pillows
one extra behind his back, supporting
a weak smile, comforting a strong fear.
Ill follows death; his fall-down, failure
to rise to old heights, unplanned for
such young days.

Sweet and ever considerate on his bed,
as snow in the sun when nurses, smoking
doctors laughed aside. While my alarm
clock tells his time, a heartbreaking bye
to his mum. Two o'clock too early, yet
15:45 just right.

His punctual big heart.
His way to stay in the end.

the waiting room of my psychiatrist
where I need to be because
he enables me to see reality
to master the day-today
to hold back on the tickets.
We laugh a lot and always run late though.
The flowers do calm me down
the weekly cup of tea nice and strong
and the magazines show me the best
destinations anywhere in the world
but therapy world
anywhere the flowers grow
but this crystal vase.

And I do know that place,
only once, Puerto Angel,
and every new memory
constructs itself around
that shore, learning to
read the swifwater, to
my waves being safe,
my extant outside time -
timeless quality is what
I always seem to need
and find in this haven.

For all the sweetness I
give and the caring I do can
you just for once
let me be mean x ugly?

Never serious arguments
Never big lovely gestures either
We just don't do those,
do we?
We just say "I know"
and not "I love love love you",
do we?
She wonders sometimes
if this reflects their connection or their
Calvinism or their sense to
silently compete whether there
is this connection or
whether together reflects actually
a distance inevitable or natural
To survive together
Don't get her wrong, they
love love love each other
on every occasionally

Instead of bread the chocolate
comfort from dark matter
indoor picnics too when rain
Something she deserves
for being left alone
for building on alone
To hide at home when
Desire leaves and food comes in.

i'm in raptures
a sort of an unexpected mini holiday
you've called in sick
and we're cruising the city
early drinks late lunch
looking at the river the high-rises people
tucked away
in offices and raincoats
we're high and dry and unreachable
together

Hair up
Dive in
Professional fitting
room conduct

As long as I stop thinking,
Nature stays with me and
Future stays away.

The soundness that fell
when she let go
one that was so intrinsic
yet so uninvisible
for taken for granted
I cannot do it alone
she thought
for you were my backing
she told.

Like travelling is not escaping
a city shepherds the way
how could I be so mistaken
to think the boy
was the sanctity only
my father can give
she trusted.

I need you for some love
and at the kitchen table
All love for the world
and unhindered by me
Fish on a Tuesday
my papers all over
Your eyes my dance
with thoughts to feel
My heart your keep
with solutions to view
Head wind is not the
prevailing kind where
fore your mind ought
to be the rock of us when
the days wash away,
over me, bleak rainbow.

[After reading: ''He's all pine and I'm an apple orchard'']

Out of blue
he starts talking
the first time
his father after 30 years

Starts showing me
the worn picture
shiny satin, wide sleeves,
blue 70s shirt, broad smile

Like his boy with
his golden tooth
skinny and young and
imagine he never asked

for him nor the lad
for his dad while an old bloke
starts shouting through his phone
the same time the end of the park

It's just a Saturday and this happens
when with dog, who seems
undisturbed while boy and I
act emotional sharing
with strange eyes

On the way home I take a
picture of a boy with the elephant.
Trees keep on
whispering, the rain starts
dog is happy back home.

My own little
private hell

In a way it moves me
strangely to be
so insecure so grey
so hollow in a way
black tide's back
fire slowly fades
along all I wrong
my storm my sanity
the art's to abide
and enjoy the ride
to hell and back
and back again
to feel real again

Would you stay and  
sit with me please?

spend a lot of money
on therapy
or a lot of time
on self-help new age battlefields
when you can write a poem and
shake it off?

In the gloomy ink of an autumn afternoon
she carries back, her youth - lately travels
To feel       freedom
                  timelessness
To free from
what she won't want to know
To everlast
where she will want to go
Keep going my love
To wish,        to search
Her wish,     her search
Riven by past
Consumed by curious
Future travels as the
cartography of her new book
the subtle wave of pages
                  or
the subtle wave of weeds
she looks up, discovers the
deep deep blue above
deep darker blue below
Graced by beauty
A vast landscape of coral
without dividing, the same
depth above as beneath
To feel           freedom
                       timelessness
To free buoyancy
what she wants to show
In the shiny part of the summer afternoon
she thinks forward, still young - forever travels

I actually do
like to wipe the
kitchen, eat a whole
load of crackers,
waist a sound
morning on YouTube
and my whole eve on
box sets, dress up in
a satin skirt, wear
my gold, miss the bus
to talk to you.

The only thing I need
to have ... like a routine
is dancing every day
and to love again.

Some necessary meds in the morning
call for
more necessary drinks in the afternoon
Balancing my life
because
I'm shaking anyway

Two recollections and one thought
Coming up and making sense
One: i'm little at the window
knowing there's something out there
engaging hopeful tempting valuable
it sings out from the clouds
but i cannot yet hear it
Two: i'm 24 work is done weekend
starts and i'm alone truly at this age
there's an antique market and the groceries
but i cannot but think
One: is this my life?