"eins" poems
Electricity is talking; we understand
losing interest in conversations. creating land.
droplets of ice define the day
August ends in the middle of May
intrepid peeling; scabs of the earth
the hands fail; a dumbed feeling
Eins, the seeing blind have never seen
on screen, a shape of many faces
in through the open windows outdoors
smoke dries the unseen. air dry.
so paragon goners repulse the cleaver
the system has failed
so much detail to attention
when pink isn’t even a color
time is wasted on time itself
unfortunate cookie
wires once made you. complete.
ask for the answer to the question is nothing
Zwei light birds on a wire
the happenstance, the fire
where hell listens, there sight is drawn
selfishly we glare and mourn
******* ice cubes yelling “Jesus may…”
cold as **** the cesspool lay.
So, maybe I’m over thinking this.
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 4:38 AM UTC
Þú keyrir í gegnum æðar eins eldingu Boltinn
Og sál mín sleppur frá endalaus myrkrina;
Hljóðið af hugsunum mínum í gröfin:
Þú kveikja stig af sálinni í neista.
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 3:27 PM UTC
Ja, er hat dich gekuesst-- aber ich auch
wenn er nicht da waere-- wer sonst?
Ich bin ohne dich geflogen, und wohin?
Keine Frage der Zeit, Schlampe
ich bin's
Ich bin's der bei dir sonst waere-- ich bin's, bist du wirklich so bloed?
Wieso fragst du >>WER?<<
Du bist ne Schlampe, und das erkenn' ich schon
aber das macht mir nichts, ich bin alleine geflogen
Und all die Menschen die ueber mich sassen
haben es gewusst und wollten mich kaum antasten
Sie sind ohnehin weiter-- immer weiter-- gegangen
und, ohne dich, Schlampe, bin ich heruntergefangen
Mit den Hunden und Paeckchen diese Leute staendig nach- duersten und mitbring'
Lag ich
Bin ich auch zu ueberfluessig um oben drinzusitzen?
Schlampe, willst du dass ich wein', so ohne Wasser
im Dunkel, in Einsamkeit, im Gefaengniss der Lust?
Am Kartenkasse drueckte ich 'eins-Plus!'
Vergiss dich, Schlampe-- ich hab' fuer dich kein Benutz
Du bist nicht wer ist, das bin ich
Tschuess.
---------------------------------------
Yes, he has kissed you-- but I too
if he weren't there-- who else?
I have flown without you, and where to?
No question of time, *****
I am the one
I am the one that would be by you otherwise-- I am the one, are you really so stupid?
Why do you ask "WHO?"
You are a ***** and I recognize that already
But that doesn't make a difference to me, I have flown by myself
And all the humans that sat over me
have known it and hardly wanted to touch me
they have regardless further-- always further-- gone
and, without you, ***** am I caught under here
With the dogs and little packages these people constantly thirst after and bring with
I lay
Am I indeed too superfluous to sit inside, above?
***** do you want for me to cry, this way without water
in the dark, in isolation, in the prison of passion?
At the ticket counter I pressed "one-Plus!"
Forget you, ***** for you have I no use
You are not he who is, that is I.
Goodbye.
Mar 26, 2012
Mar 26, 2012 at 1:21 PM UTC
A tri-pod death
One-two-three
You should have seen
The way my sister looked at me
It was such a surprise
I looked at her widened eyes
She didn't understand why I cried
Sadness turned to rage
It wasn't her fault, but her age
I crumpled up the page
That brought the news
My parents sister, niece, and nephew
My fists turned black & blue
I was only six years old
Didn't grasp how fire made them cold
Of all these things that I was told
I screamed and couldn't understand
Why God, had used his hand
I think that's when I turned my back
On the promise of his promised land
The hardest part was the coffins size
One for an adult, a teenager, and a tiny child
Older, I later went and apologized
To my sister for the things I said
She didn't remember the words I bled
But it relieved me when she said forgive &
Forget
Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 10:23 AM UTC
Veins that hold
A talent only his.
Not confident, but
Great masterpieces.
Oh, what a shame
Gogh died without
High hopes for his art.
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 11:09 PM UTC
ale czysto w tej E - U - Ρ - Ω - Π - J - Η.
islam leiben historie, nicht Ottoman,
Ottoman pseudo Khan, islam leiben historie:
eins, zwei, drei und vierte maulkor'bzeugè'naussagé
(sausage marathon); they love their history
mind you ψι and τρι... kaganiec u stóp w
krok stu odpowiedzi w jedną droge:
raz jeszcze, w las i w cienie iglą tej tętnicy wybryk chęć
na gre, by zadać zbyteczne pytanie! na odpowiedź
oskarzyć czas z wiedzą zegara,
i tą ostateczną, wartą końca, namylsnością...
ponownie oskarzyć jako począt narodu -
tylko golasa, warte imie kroka ka ka kar Kasymir'ah!
wedle Tsara, czołem w tło wymagań na wyryte
zapomnieniem lat: oddech'u Uzbeku chafta
wspomnień wiatru i chorongiew latawcy
jak niby urojen konceptu narodu...
ja człek tylko w psiarni! i tak powiem, tak,
wiara, panem na zbyt wiele pamięci Janosika
i Radio Maria;
o tyle czerpie zgon, ponownie, ponownie,
by ocalić, niby swiętego, i pogrzebać swój naród...
ale wstyd! wstyd! by ocalić jednego niby
swiętego, lecz nadać obszar rodem Polak'a
ponad Polske i w ramach Irlandie; jaki to wstyd
nawet ten mnie wart, co nie nada snu!
co za wstyd - nie warto umierać wiele razy,
kiedy ten ostatecny oznacza raz jeszcze -
quo vadis, qua lectio? -
ten raz jeszcze, i ten ostatni, o tyle wiele poradni
przed wieloma nocami snu.
Jun 7, 2016
Jun 7, 2016 at 9:54 PM UTC
In a rejuvenated hope I remind.
A wise collection of words,
My memory shares with you.
Some days are really bad,
Others are even worse,
Reign they who have the reins,
Reins to their own life,
Yet in synch with love.
Kindness may soar high,
Routing away is no solution,
If you let patience prevail,
Problems will be solved,
In fact, you lose nothing.
Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 2:19 PM UTC
A C H T U N G
acht neun acht sechs vier fünf zwo
sechs drei eins fünf sieben acht null
the radio spews over and over again
void of meaning. or so they want
us to think as the concrete wall
keeps standing. they came to liberate us
which they did. of thought of speech
of word. see the ashen blocks sit
aren’t they pretty? as dark red blotches
stain their smooth surfaces like lipstick on
wine glasses. an old fan turns slowly
in a dusty room just south of
Leipzig. men dream of hazy Stalinist façades
as she brings a cigarette to her
rouged lips. Belomorkanal. the rusted olive uniform
pulls tighter as she draws in. octaves
bellow from the speakers. it is time
to hear from the homeland. how sickles
gleam for the Union just like they
did for Lenin. we don’t talk about
him now though. sickles don’t gleam here
like they ought to. the reels revolve
unforgiving to the cry of a winter’s
night. the ruby snow glints in torchlight.
the night goes on. it has to.
sieben sechs vier zwo neun drei sechs
eins sieben null sechs acht fünf sieben
E N D E
May 13, 2013
May 13, 2013 at 8:49 PM UTC
respectability argument: to be honest, being british, i think you're being asked to be required in kenya.... unless french, and much needed in the ivory coast; unless of course bound to south america and resurrecting aztecs; but that's you, snogging Pocahontas: and there's me still thinking about L'vov in Ukraine and Vilnius in Lithuania, like some Greek torching Athens in order to reclaim the stature of being enclosed by the Koranic identification of being once named Byzantine.
i make children in my sleep. parisian monkey dogue;
i'll sell my mother for a chance to salute!
seigel... heil! is that drowned
or drunk monkeys? is that the fluffy ********
or the furry moustache?
vexen ßeß -
i'm getting the itch....
the children rebel,
they read:
azure eyed
and the keeper: those americans
aren't selling the idea of democracy,
they're selling patriotism...
we can't find patriotism
after vietnam...
i told you i sold the children
the idea...
they're hanging with me in the night...
they're engaging everyone with
drunk's antics... and 9 depths of Dante...
when no-one aims to be
intelligent, rather drunk...
high-streets of Aleppo...
only when children take to invoking
a priestly Saturday...
caste-made worth's of a ********
i charge to culprit the salutation...
for whatever coaxing
i too mind the hoax -
veneered in vex -
broadly gathered with a klux.
x x x... x x x... wind-farms of Bavaria.
tragedy in Dortmund, and navigating
the E34... i think they call it the Bermuda
spaghetti tangle...
schloss... Mathias Pfred...
y'ah, dirt-ridden with the Rhine...
neun counter eins...
luft, feuer, wasser, erde;
zahnseide nach naiv chittern, denken bürste;
ich nehmen die kontinent für schweinkratzen:
kichernd beifall - cacao Brad Pitt... suede
in foxtrot a vexing the ***** of mustard with
merging ginger and brownshirt; skunk
marching the heb toward allegiance texan,
for that pretty period of living in the 1960s
and the early 21st century...
and god said: either a german or a pole
will be my puppet joker, or i'll have
a resurrection of israel! **** why not, i'll
have both.
Dec 10, 2016
Dec 10, 2016 at 8:12 PM UTC
Ef veröldin vissi að hve miklu leyti
þú þjáðist á krossinum þínum,
myndi trú hjá oss brenna eins og þúsund sólir.
Þeir munu aldrei þekkja
þyrnana sem stungu í þig,
eða hvössu flísarnar sem brunnu á bakinu.
Jafnvel þú, Drottinn vor,
spurðir Föðurinn af hverju;
Æ, sjáðu ekki vort trúleysi!
Fyrirgef þú oss syndugum mönnum;
veit þú oss þína miskunn;
börnin þín erum týnd;
þó ég allra týndastur.
Jan 19, 2018
Jan 19, 2018 at 7:18 PM UTC
Eins, Zwei, Drei
you look me in the eye
I felt the breath of cupid,
Along where roses lie
And **** do I see
Why love's an ecstasy
It pulls me in then pulls me out
To make a fantasy
Cause hearts will always teach
The lies we always preach
For I can say and lie
The words, ich liebe dich
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 11:19 AM UTC
I’ve woken up
No longer under your spell
Sobered up
And realised I’m in Hell
You played me hard
But you did it well
You built me up
But in the end I fell
Eins, zwei, drei, vier,
The truth was blurred but now it’s clear
Eins, zwei, drei, vier,
My scars are now my souvenirs
Eins, zwei, drei, vier,
I’ve lost it all and now I have no fear
Eins, zwei, drei, vier,
Now I see that the end is near
Now you’re gone
And I can heal
You were too good
To be real
My heart was always
yours to steal
But you burned it up
And I can’t feel
Eins, zwei, drei, vier,
The truth was blurred but now it’s clear
Eins, zwei, drei, vier,
My scars are now my souvenirs
Eins, zwei, drei, vier,
I’ve lost it all and now I have no fear
Eins, zwei, drei, vier,
Now I see that the end is near
Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 3:55 PM UTC
Das Land verbreitet Hass Tiraden,
Jetzt ist der Zeitpunkt, stellt euch auf die Barrikaden
kämpft für euer Glück
ihr bekommt es nicht einfach so zurück...
Es ist klar das es nicht einfach wird!
Habt keine Angst und zeigt euren Mut, tut nicht so als ob ihr nichts hört
ansonsten sehen wir alle Blut
wenn ihr jetzt nichts tut,
schürt ihr nur weiter die Glut...
Die Welt ist eins
Donald Trump nicht nur deins!
Ist Freiheit nichts wert ?
Ist das der Grund warum jeder weiter fährt ?
Wollen wir uns wirklich selbst zerstören?
Es ist an der Zeit zuzuhören!
Wie konnten wir es nur soweit kommen lassen ?
Wir haben doch keinen Grund zum hassen...
Nach all den Jahren nichts gelernt aus unseren Fehlern
die Friedhöfe werden voll sein mit Gräbern...
Macht und Gier, das ist es worum es geht
eigentlich verwunderlich das sich die Welt noch dreht
es gibt genug Grausamkeit auf dieser Erde,
der Grund warum ich nicht aufgeben werde.
Denkt nach was wir erreichen können wenn wir frei von Vorurteilen sind
Freiheit zu spüren klingt unglaublich, wie das Wunder von Kind
Dec 28, 2017
Dec 28, 2017 at 3:32 AM UTC
Gemeinsam stehen wir hier,
hätte nie gedacht das du hier bleibst bei mir
Freunde die einen nie verlassen,
können sich nicht lange hassen
egal wie verschieden wir auch sind,
wir kennen uns gut wer was anderes sagt spinnt
Hatten Höhen und Tiefen,
waren nie gefangen wenn wir liefen,
waren gemeinsam frei,
waren eins und dennoch zwei
Freunde zu sagen ist zu wenig,
denn das hier ist Familie und hält ewig
haben Fehler begangen und geweint,
sie aber gerade gebogen bis die Sonne scheint
sich gegenseitig unterstützt,
denn wir wusste das alles andere nichts nützt
Jahre sind bereits vergangen
doch wir hatten nie Grund zum bangen
denn wahre Freunde bleiben und gehen nicht,
das ist etwas wo selbst die Gesellschaft nicht gegenspricht
Hätte damals nie erwartet das du mal ein Teil von mir wirst,
werde bei dir sein bist du alt bist und stirbst
Tratschen wie die Alten omis über die alte Zeit,
doch leben nicht in der Vergangenheit
gemeinsam waren wir als Freunde eins,
was mir war war dir und was dir war meins
kannten uns teilweise besser als uns selbst,
das ist der Grund warum es ewig hält ✌
Dec 8, 2017
Dec 8, 2017 at 4:29 PM UTC
Beziehungen im allgemeinen
sind Dinge die einen vereinen
Dein Partner gibt dir Freiheit
und ihr wisst zeitgleich das ihr niemals allein seid
Kein Grund sich einzuengen
einen immer versuchen zu etwas zu drängen,
sondern Freiheit zu schenken
und nicht nur an sich zu denken
Gemeinsam mehr sein als eins
Gefühle verstehen solang bin ich deins
Bester Freund und Partner in einem
klingt komisch über dieses Thema zu reimen
Was lockeres schön gut
endet jedoch meistens in Wut
Denn irgendwann werden Gefühle entstehen
dann kannst du nicht mehr einfach nur weitergehen....
Dec 17, 2017
Dec 17, 2017 at 5:26 AM UTC
One Two, Three Four
Eins Zwei, Drei Vier
Quatre Trois, Zero Un
We sway to the tunes
As we maintain eye contact
The vividness of the day in when we once met
The promise to teach me your dance
You kept your word
That this wouldn't last
That these moments would go by fast
Step by step I paved my way
to this day
As you taught me the Waltz
The Cajun, The Classics
You swept me off my feet as we turned and twisted
In our own little world
Where the skies filled with glitter
And the stars no longer wandered
My naive self refused to believe this would end
That the fireworks I hear were not just hallucinations
I was blind, confused, oblivious to my surroundings
Unable to snap back to reality
And Time flew by fast like you reminded me
I was to return soon
Return to a place that was no longer next to your side
A Lonesome place where my feelings must hide
As of you, you will move on to much brighter filled days
Quickly forgetting the way we played
When the music controlled our swings, our sways
Oh the way you moved my heart
Feelings I shall not forget
For now you have taught me your dance
The steps that I learned hastened so fast
Those steps that led us to our Final Dance
Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 9:38 PM UTC
Mein Kopf er rätselt vor sich hin,
ist diese Situation ein Gewinn.
Vielleicht denke ich zu viel nach,
aber dieser Moment - der Moment als mir deine Schönheit in die Augen stach.
Ich komme nicht mehr los von dir.
Ich weiß ganz genau es schadet mir,
das alles ist nicht gut für mich und dann,
dann denke ich wieder nur an dich.
Mein Kopf er rätselt vor sich hin,
auf einmal kommt mir wieder deine Perspektive in den Sinn.
Ich bin ein vielleicht, vielleicht irgendwann, vielleicht wenn ich irgendwann kann.
Vielleicht auch nicht,
dieses vielleicht es gibt mir Licht.
Mein Kopf er rätselt vor sich hin,
dann fällt mir wieder ein was ich bin.
Ich bin kein vielleicht, ich bin nicht mal ein
wer weiß.
Ich bin ein nein,
ich werde bei ihr immer eins sein.
Ich gehe fort, an einen anderen Ort.
Ich kann nicht bleiben, werde zu sehr leiden.
Aber ich will sie doch, wieso will ich sie noch?
Aber das mit ihr das ist doch richtig, ich bin ihr doch wichtig - stop du warst zu unvorsichtig.
Geh, geh deinen Weg, schau wer alles noch bereit steht.
Mein Kopf er rätselt vor sich hin -
und ich?
ich bin da mittendrin.
Dec 14, 2024
Dec 14, 2024 at 12:34 PM UTC
Einige wundervolle Dinge,
einige wundervolle Gefühle,
einige wundervolle Zeiten
wirst Du nie vergessen
ich hoffe, ich bin eins davon,
sagte das kleine Wort
Nov 23, 2020
Nov 23, 2020 at 6:55 AM UTC
Today I'm happy
Saying it proudly and loud
I met my one and only
The one that makes a perfect half of me
My other side in everything
She is my perfect imperfection
More than just an emotion I can see us in her smile
She kissed me and flashlight my darkness
I thought I won't ever love again
But a millions wrong brought me back to her
Friends are calling me crazy
But I don't really care
Cause I know they don't understand
That we are beginning of something that no one lives before
In the book of my emotions
I was writing my pain,my tears that no human could understand
That why I was not so surprise when I saw you
Cause I knew that with such kind of beauty you could never be a human
Shining blue eyes in the wonderful body of a queen
You were touching your hair like Goddess Athena
What else can I do if not loving you
You already makes me believe
You have me caught in every word you've said
Always looking into your eyes
I only see our strong connection
How free we are from lies
Our strong feeling that gives us the hope to walk this road together
It's you me forever that what I know for sure
My heart it's here for you like an open door
You know I love your smile that's the only thing I need for me
And sweat heart living my life with you it's the best thing that could happen to me
Cause when tomorrow comes and the power of time fake me
I'll be so proud of been in this world
I'm thanking you for lighting my way ,and got me in the brightness of your word
For been my medicine when I needed to be cure
For protect me from all those vultures that only want to make my heart bleed again and again
No matter what
Together - Forever
You're you
You're my love,
You're the best
It's our love divine
I LOVE YOU MORE THAN I LOVE MYSELF
PLEASE STAY MINE
LOVE YOU
Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 5:09 AM UTC
beginning with the circle, for there are three,
in an "abstract" sense of staging the Δ, i.e.:
Ω
Υ O alternatively:
o υ
ω
thus in deed... (macron as omega, in greek acute
accent on upsilon to extract omega, or the p(oo)l sound..
acute on the omicron?
gives you upsilon... omega = macron
on the omicron)...
however the Σ (totality) of this observation?
how many s esses are there, orthodoxically speaking?
s, ś, ß (a german grapheme, variant of the roman æ,
æsc, sszett - albeit the latter invoking consonants,
the former? volwels),
the greek will now provide the aesthetic twins:
σ, ς (whereby the latter, created the french
ç, which is another form of s... e.g.
in the word waiter: garçon) -
the final s form? akin to ß... but the germans
would write it as -sch-,
east germans say it when writing ich...
in english the compound is -sh-
sharp...
in slavic it's: either -sz- a variant of
the english -sh-, or with a caron, e.g. š...
like the car-manufacturer: škoda... which, when said
in adverts... omits the diacritical mark.
how many "satans" can you see? count:
s, ś, ß, σ, ς, ç, (-sh- / -sz- /) š:
eins, zwei, drei, vier, fünf, sechs, sieben...
you can site that seven headed hydra in the book of
revelation... right about now.
oh sure... let's go crazy, put an extra head on the beast:
the cyrillic ш... some sort of rigid omega, or worse still...
an uptight double-"u".... it's a V, a ******* V, a double V!
qui? qui? wee? wee? it's a soft-v!
May 15, 2017
May 15, 2017 at 9:20 AM UTC
lunch?
yes, lunch.
what will it be,
herr vielefurz? bring me,
oh noble page,
3 czech beers.
funny,
as a pole, i can
see the downfall
of germany,
and as nietzsche
predicted,
the deutsche:
wächter von kreuz...
and to see it,
well... i am seeing
germany topple,
and i didn't
even have to lift
a finger,
well, i had to do something:
so i farted while
sitting in an armchair;
in polish it sounds
a bit different:
mazel tov!
oh wait, that's jewish...
á jom patru patru na to szambo,
i se myślom... pinknie...
i se pier**dziáłem w fotel
na to ganz popierdolenie:
ojra ojra, hurrrrr'ah!
sto lat takich lat jak tych!
sto lat, sto lat, niech żyje nam,
sto lat, sto lat, niech żyje nam!
eins hundret, eins hundret,
damit leben für uns!
germany... it's your.... birthday!
wanna see the prezzies?
ah... go on... titanic is sinking,
might as well open them,
while the orchestra plays!
orchestra! play! play!
and let us sing:
sha! shtil! makht nisht keyn gerider
der rebe geyt shoyn tantsn vider
sha! shtil! makht nisht keyn gevalt
der rebe geyt shoyn tantsn bald...
and they took their root into the home
they made, and made their
language the mongrel ******* of
yiddish...
while in poland:
they still spoke with a "funny" accent...
as stanisław wokulski
would testify, in the novel
the doll, by bolesław prus.
p.s. i once heard a jew complain
that he be called that,
a jew...
ah... but wouldn't it be
more offensive, if i called you
a *** he blushed,
and took off his kippah;
well then,
hebrye.
Aug 12, 2017
Aug 12, 2017 at 10:47 AM UTC