The devastating blow
Was coming slow,
And finally, it never came.

Everything is for a reason,
Mostly, for a stupid one.

Would you like to come up for a coffee?
- (smiling) Just a coffee?
- A good coffee is never just a coffee!

Dusty second-hand books
Are looking at me
Quite nasty.

Be careful where you move,
What you think,
And with the ways to obtain an another drink.

I wouldn't panic,
But I am afraid
To be too late with the begin of panic.

My immortal soul
Is ******* with me,
I wonder why.

Now, I would like to shift the blame from me
To somebody else
Inside of myself.

I welcome the void,
I enjoy the emptiness,
I need my space.

The last minute,
The last kiss,
The last piece of pizza.

I'll be waiting for you,
And whatever you think,
Just come,
And I'll be waiting for you.

I wanted to tell you "that's it",
But you weren't available,
So, no "that's it ".

by the afternoon,
the last crumbs of the morning were eaten,
like the evening's hors d'oeuvres.

all-too-few feelings,
with strange endings, without beginnings,
in a no man's land of my soul.

a glass of beer, please,
a promising smile, please,
I will gladly accept both.

Too much of a cold wind,
The mailbox is empty,
And the shadows are too pale.

I thought about you,
And you thought back,
It was nice, to be thinking together.

Don't walk away,
Don't run away,
Just stay,
With me forever stay.

At the beginning was the Word,
And the Word was on the Screen.

Across all borders, and also nations:
Birds are flying from south,
Cars are reparking in different formations,
Cats are excited, from tale to mouth.

The whole afternoon I walked through the fields,
Looking at the occasional birds
And thinking about the Universe,
And then I watched TV.

Don't look at the picture,
Be the picture,
You can be any picture you want,
You can be a very pretty picture.

Fires are begging for our attention,
They are like teenage girls,
Convinced that looks are everything.

"How to lose extra weight,
And to write only bestsellers,
To find your soul mate
And ***** all your fears".
/ That's a book we we would to have, isn't it? /

The sun will rise,
And the birds will be chirping again,
Non regarding the fact that you will now eat
Or not eat this last piece of pizza.

A lot of me
Is nonessential,
The rest is precious and existential.

Your old emails
Laying on my imaginary table,
Waiting for a wind to be scattered.

I will take my car,
And I will cross the continent with my car,
I will come back with my car,
And I will tell to my car, that I am very sorry.

In my little kitchen
There are little people,
Who are secretly doing my dishes.
Although, that's just a wishful thinking.

The range
Of the things, that are strange,
Is limitless,
Which is also strange,
And therefore from the same range.

There's a pawn shop
At the next corner,
I went there this morning and asked,
Whether I could have my life back.

I wish you a bad luck,
And then a good luck,
And then a quiet life,
For which you'll be ripe.

A sudden horror
Or a sudden joy
Are equal in my life,
My life is their toy.

Zen-eternity is coming to get you,
You over-excited achievement ******.

I would like to tell you, if I may -
There is a "crazy",
There is an "absolutely crazy",
And there is my ordinary day.

You knocked on my door
Quite unexpectedly.
I opened the door and kissed you on the cheek.
As a mailwoman, you weren't expecting this.

(he, timidly) You should be with me, I think.
- (she, pensive) I could imagine that, yes.

It was a period of time,
Or rather a period of me,
It was something, that first ended,
And then began,
And timidly asked for the directions.

I got it out of my system
Straight into yours,
Straight into yours,
I did it for us both, my love.

It is very dull
To look at a skull,
Unless you are Hamlet
Or the skull is somehow yours.

A summer wooden table
With unfinished books
Is warming up for you.

I am going upstairs,
Opening my hotel room,
Looking at a new landscape from the window,
This weekend will be mine,
This weekend will be mine.

The poet killed himself,
As he accidentally understood
That he could have been always happy
Without ever having written a line.

The good music is timeless.
The best music is eternal.

Queues of our lives
Are not moving,
We are standing in them,
We are groaning and we are foaming.
We are getting mad,
We are getting dead,
We are suddenly getting happy,
We are waiting to meet a yeti,
Or to write some spectacular book,
And be off the hook.

I want to be this thing
And you want to have this thing,
How could we not be together?
And forget about this thing.

There are three things to burn in your fire:
to get inspired,
to get lost,
to come back to inspire.

In this castle, I only go upstairs and knock on the doors.
Once they mentioned, that it would be also possible for me to be falling down dark tunnels with bright stars, shining from below.
For now though, I keep knocking.

There is no sense in being like the others.
The others are already there, you see

The child in all of us
Is making fuss.