Wer freut sich nicht gern auf Weihnachten,
denn es ist das Fest der Liebe.
Anders kann man es auch betrachten,
wenn geschenkt gibts erst mal Hiebe.

So ist die Freude leicht gedämpft,
die Bescherung muss noch warten,
bis die Tränen sind bekämpft,
dann kann man endlich starten.

Gedichte werden vorgetragen,
'O du Fröhliche' gesungen,
keiner will die Stimmung hinterfragen,
so ist das Fest dann noch gelungen.

i never write "anything"...
i'm claustrophobic when its comes to
exploring cognizance...

'wow! what a fancy word!'

i hardly beg to differ...
i hear of people fathoming the novel...
and...
i'm a monolith monstrosity...
some bourbon, some german:

ich bin gut zu gehen: ja!

spucke bourbon au zu mein gesicht!

i will never write a novel,
i deal with butchering an animal
for: ein stück von fleisch...

"a novel" und barockarchitektur:
sounds similar?

oh but it's a freel available tattoo
in the anglophonic frame of ref....
Hastings, 1066...
hard to come by when the tattoo reads...
ahem...

Tannenberg, 1410...
Vienna, 1683...

clear-cut... almost safe-net catch-em
while you can...
the Hastings folk were pagans...
don't you know?
don't you know that only white
people can be racist?

pst... ask the russians "about that"...
see what you come back with...
i will have to...
S'****** at the reply...
no... honestly: "because" it's forbidden for
us former iron curtain "roma" folk...
**** dastardly's dog: muttley... S'*******...
giggles in...
we former folk from the eisenvorhang...
coming across the californian:
siliziumvorhang?!
where are we... polacks...
hunagarians... czechs... estonians...
lithuanians... ukranians...
yugolz... at?!
we don't fit the narrative... do we?

it's the 27th of december...
and i'm "thinking"... it's mighty fine...
to celebrate something with the aestigermani!

the children of ***** sought a father...
the children of gomorrah were akin...
i do not know whether i am
a father figure or whether:
there's that pointless safety question
to mind: did i wear a ******?
i was assured! i was assured there were
contraceptive pills involved!

i'm tired on the usual steaming-heap
pile of warm ******* and ****
to give a psychoanalyst his rhetoric
elevated status of disinhibition...

cocktail! madonna's papa don't preach...
dusty springfield: son of a preacher man...
and any other formidable calypso
study of salsa... should this sugar baby
this sugar baby be my baby
and if i would never become a sugar daddy...

and because i was only ever looking
for the six oops-stones of womanhood...
infinity: eh... bag 'em one weekend...
forget 'em the next...

god... let me this one type of racist...
Jefferson keeping "green things" akin
to Zoe Saldana in some variation
of a "basement"...
i'm good with green...
use enough cumin, coriander or
cinnamon powder in your cooking...
you'll ask: what's wrong with green?
i'd **** green! i'd **** green sitting down
i'd **** green of the sort sleeping!
i'd peacock myself in many variations
of drunk to stage:
that one sober sort of **** with her
and... it's no samantha 38g and...
classics come to mind...
homer, horace... and plump models
of: extra cushions!

ha ha... i make myself laugh:
i make myself laugh because:
there's about zeo chance of me...
conjuring up a novel ambition...
me and a novel...
a "supposed" schizoid and a novel...
ha ha! Noel! Noel!

there was a time where i grew a beard for a reason:
i.e. exercise less..
grow a beard, hide the pride of a walrus
minus the harem...
double chin and the...
Zoe Saldana in green skin...
octopus fucky-fucky or what?

- never mind -

grow a beard... hide the shar pei...
i figured over time...
my beard became a giza pyramid
focus of my eyes...
it took some persuasion...
namely 4 years and my grandmother
finally pointing out:
oh look how thick it is...
she wanted to play g.i. joe with...
prior to: my hair...
like some thor meets barbier universe
dolls extravaganza...
a hard-on waiting...
with an ava lauren limp twist...

"oops".

now the beard is all about...
being 34 years old... while donning
the *** leftover skivvy look
inflating the organic body for a media
frenzy to "compenstate" it to be aged:
49!
ha ha...
i keep forgetting why i'm in such a good mood!
today is today! and i'm...
and i'm not allowing myself to succumb
to an anglophonic seriousness
of staging an elvis costello seriousness
of: everyday writing the novel...

pst: sounds better than that obvious...
"nook 'n' cranny"...

my alternatives!
minnesang - neidhart:
meie din liechter schin!

weihnachten ist erledigt!
weihnachten ist erledigt!
weihnachten ist erledigt!
weihnachten ist erledigt:
lassen uns singen!
lassen uns geben loben!
lassen uns männer verlassen
der mutterleib!

ensemble für frühe musik augsburg -
mayenzeit one neidt...

jetzt kommen der lieder:
zu gesungen! für alle das jahr!

i guess i grew a beard to hide a shar pei...
then again:
perhaps i grew a beard to pretend to
fiddle with a throng of violins?
perhaps i found growing my hair long...
i had to compensate!
i had to exfoliate in the downward
spiral and exchange...
oi! baldy! baldy!
i can juggle! i can juggle!
i can grow long hair and a beard!

but never the two at the same time!
germany and the nazis...
i just can't stiop thinking about
the lucky... those frivolous drunks
of the holy roman empire...
esp. when peering via their folk songs...
i call it: having to succumb to
english prune and pristine pressures...
even these days...
being wholy saxon is to be:
most unwholesome when it comes
to the german federation...

it's called cheating:
eatin saxon white soy
and not... riddling oneself
with Bavarian rye!

i'm drunk! it's the 27th of december!
the little ******* is born!
now i can celebrate!
chevalier, mult estes guariz!
on the 27th of december i can sing
german, and french crusader songs!

on the 27th of december i can celebrate!
nothing has to be left so innocent
and passive! so coddled!
and if they weren't singing byzantine
chants... prior to this day?!
let them sing no more!
i have found my happiness! once more!

Ö dies freude!
jetzt ich können: singen!
einst die kinder und engel...
ar legen zu bett!

if i am to be the integrated kind...
now i rejoice!
for i have all the reasons to rejoice!
i do no have to pander
to a babe!
i do not have to force myself
into elevated expectations with
a pre- litany of the omni- suitor...

now i can champion the romance
of the crusade...
i am... freed from the utopia...
that only one heart is allowed
to feel... and its feeling is to be contested...
solely by the sacrifice of a crucifixion...
not by iron maiden outlets "etc."...

now muttererde...
ihr liebhaber: wind - seine unterschrift!
weihnachten ist erledigt!
weihnachten ist erledigt!

it's the 27th of december and i can finally
celebrate with songs...
that... celebrate the sort of christianity
i am accustomed to...
french crusader songs...
german folk...
that i can stomach...
not this... pandering...
expecting the nuns to not...
somehow, not, become...
the ****** of the christ-harem!
a nun is a nun is a nun is a nun...
is a nun...
but i very much like...
being considered...
for... the better part of the feminine whim,
outside the realm of:
the usual rejection tactics of:
the aborted... i like my exercise of yielding:
DAS WORTE... ooh... chisel that
with a base goosebump strut to be worth
being added!

em... it's almost like that...
time-travel question of:
why not travel back in time...
and **** the baby adolf ******...
dunno... no point doing that with a jesus...
since... m'eh... his cross is our
genuflexion... yes: kind sir...
yes mr. greek and mrs. hebrew...
esp. in this script...
esp. when its alive and "we" debate...
the pronunciation of:

nil admirari prope res est una, Numici,
solaque, quae possit facere et servare beatum...
hunc solem et stellas et decedentia certis
tempora momentis sunt qui formidine nulla
inbuti spectent: quid censes munera terrae,
quid maris extremos arabas ditantis et indos
ludicra, quid plausus et amici dona quiritis,
quo spectanda modo, quo sensu credis et ore?

there's nothing to be surprised by, Numicious,
in this life's mainstay, peace of soul and happiness;
others, onto the sun, the stars, azure bodies...
on the round year of orbital changes, look with
a calm... and you would, upon the gifts of earth,
pearls of the sea, what of the distant Arabs,
Indians beyond the Arabs,
on the Kwiritow (googlewhack...)
Quiritus' honours, questionable plaudit: peer
raptured in awe without measure?

a very ******* bad a very ******* terrible
translation... as you do...
as you do... sinking into bourbon...
thinking about... maritza mendez...
sylvia loret... samantha 38G...
and all those lost plump classics of *****...

i would have sunk the Potemkin!
drunk... i wouldn't even require
a sober catch / scrutiny of "character"...
because now i am yet to translate
some latin, use this... ahem...
pseudo-cuneiform text:
"LATINE QUOD MORTUS EST"

perhaps that's mis-translated as:
qua: i.e. "as being"...
perhaps MIT... some runic...
or glagolitic... we AWAIT: the revival!
of the grand h'american protestant church
of apocalyptic wonder!
maybe, perhaps... "then"!

but it's the 27th of december...
the... "messiah" is born!
now we can reroute and go back to our...
current year... ***** and gomorrah type
of *******...
the cosmopolitan whoop-t'd'ah is 'ere!
come easter, come spring....
come the crucifixion! come the resurrection!

one of my cats - bonsai tigers is such a recluse -
for the 24h in a day she could spend 28h sleeping,
and not be seen apart from taking
a princess dump and eating like a gargoyle...

my room always fascinated her -
i guess she like the smell of books -
and the chair - for the past few days:
her "modus operandi" for whatever else
happens in the day...

i turn on the computer... start typing...
there she is, geared up, agitated -
doing her little pagan prayer: standing on
the hind legs - outstretching her front legs
and paws - and then moving them in an amen
clasp up and down -

i once overheard "someone" instructing her...
the voice wasn't human -
the words weren't human...
i'm under the impression that she was told:
get him away from typing...
as if now she wants all the attention...

one of the last stumps of the old dwarfs is almost
out of the ground...
but this one is a beast -
           it grew into a heap of concrete where
the old fence posts were...
you can't dig this sort of roots' head up
with a tiny shovel - a tiny one handed gardening
fork... a hand-saw... a blunt axe...
a hammer: when needing to hammer the axe
in...
              one of the roots took forever...
tomorrow i'll take out the guns of navarone...
a hammer drill and an electric saw...
i'll turn these concrete blob into dust
and chew into the roots with electric eels...

then the waiting process -
i will have to burn the soil...
        either with vineger or salt or i don't know...
i'll get some proper gardening chemical
that will treat old roots like weeds...
until the wood becomes brittle and...
a future source of nourishment for new
growth...
   and the dwarf apple trees grew...
while bonsai tigers cackled-esque at the birds...
eyes growing tired into a murmur of
itchy blinking...

took a coffee break and... thought apps...
and technology...
   not much thinking in all honesty...
at 34 i should be somewhere in this field...
working on some minor detail...

they can have ****** recognition technology...
but they don't have an app
that allows you take a photograph of a flower
to subsequently let you know the name of it...
they have an app that listens to a song
on the radio... and hey presto!
you have the name of the song...
          but there's no app that has a honing
microphone... after all: a camera has a zoom...
why isn't there a honing microphone?
there's no app to record a bird song...
to subsequently: hey google: listen to this...
what bird is that?

well... good to know that i still have
some interest in that... give him 3 minutes
and you're listening to spy cables
from a mr. starling...

            it's not even beautiful as vivaldi
would make it appear in the imitation game...
it's a binge on mathematics... or the thought
that comes with it...

       how the old tongue came about,
as revised to latin standards by methodius
and cyril... i too met a greek once...
from Thessalonica... in Warsaw...
       astounded as to why my english was
so good...
                then again, one has to wonder
why the czechs did not succumb...
"succumb"... nor we their neighbours...
to...

how Ⰰ became A... was it to become T?
well... not if Ⱅ (T) was to be... W?
none of these letters could be "simplified"...
with the exceptions of 'b': Ⰱ that became Б...
'm': Ⰿ that became M
           'p': Ⱂ that became "p": π
       but even the glagolitic entry i'm reading...
Ⱋ: is supposedly symplified by щ...
   i'm not buying that...
                  i could be wrong that...
    Ⱎ was and that ш is... a letter intact...
                 or that Ⱇ was and that ф is...
and that it wasn't the greek φ...
well... ш + ц = щ - šarość + č = ščerość
                   (greyness + ch-                       +
                                             -atter ≠ honesty)
yet how many words can begin with щ / šč-?
quiet a few... ščekać! to bark!
                                    look... i too have my:
tail: bąk - bumblebee...
          or perhaps how Ⰶ became ж...
or }I{ / >I<                                   Ż / RZ / Ž    
if you have a caron...
                        and know why horseradish
goes well with beetroots for a salt "puree" side
dish...
              a problem from the start of day
rubric!

     infinity                           |           nothingness
noun                                                    noun
infinite                                              nothing
adjective                                           pronoun
          ∞                                                    0?
                                                         or   √-1       i
     ~                                                 last time i heard
         ÷                                               0 = negation
                                                        so much for Kant
                                                   and subsequently
                                                         so much for ¬
                                                               likewise...  
        ∃                                                         ∄                                                    

and this toiling with the grammar...
             last time i heard these terms:
cis-                          trans-
         the conversation was central to
chirality of chemical compounds...
well... cis-trans isomers: would i have dreamed
of chemistry being so popular among
grammatical anarchists?
                                          no... it's not about
chirality...

once upon a time a language so simple:
so brittle - so accessible -
            i would strain myself on the definition:
it better rhyme...
then came the drastic oops...
           even if it rhymes...
so what it rhymes... if it does not hold ground
for lyricism to take root!

      who is to keep hold of this brute this
language gott: gut: this alles gute?
               tweak that with a sly umlaut over
a yo-yew-you? yarl!
                 who else sings?
                    the three witches: thane...
of glamis - cawdor...
                                    borrowed time from the graeae...
or at least the tongue...
the eye-shared went missing when
nine cyclopses jumped into the couldron...
the tenth: offside or the racous...
                             perhaps even: nobody...        

since why would i come with all these gifts?
what if i took your two heads away...
what ιf: ȷust lιke that! eh?
                              where are your: "dιacrιtιcal"
markers... ιn a language wιth no orthography!
there's only... the straιtȷacket of metaphysιcs
beιng exhausted: yet agaιn!

at least between a ȷ and a j there's a raa'
and a zaayn involved... please don't mention laam...
( ر ) and (ز ) respectively...
                            ( ل )...
                                          must we always learn
about the romans?
                         mr. starling sang came noon...
while i was drinking my coffee...
no app for the recognition of flowers...
plenty of ****** recognition technology in place...
no app for the recognition of bird songs...
plenty of songs archived and a honing
microphone for the telephone to pick up on
and recognise...

my song would have been much simpler...

/
meie, din liehter schin
und diu kleinen vogelin
bringent vrouden vollen schrin
daz si willekommen sin!
ich bin an den vrouden min
mit der werlde kranc
alle tage ist min klage
von der ich daz beste sage
und ir holdez herze trage
daz ich der niht wohl behaage
von den schulden ich verzage
daz mir nie gelanc
also noch genuogen an ir
dienest ist gelungen
die nach guoter wibe lone
höveschlichen rungen
nü han ich beidiu umbe
sust gedienetunde gesungen
                                                    /

as i recall... i am supposed to have a date
with a medieval germany...
a romantic germany...
     perhaps even a romance of europe
in general...
           solely on a lingua primo basis...
                history... after the mass graves
at ypres...
                           even a *** would agree
with... there's a romance
and all that was shumann and was...
              how or why the prussian became
in charge of the german people...
the same prussians...
the same baltic prussians...
the same baltic prussians that
the teutonic knights of bavaria etc.
waged a crusade against!

                      even in england certain histories
of this continent are off limits...
so much for having learned
of edward the confessor's existence...
or the medieval genius that was
philip II augustus... the capetian...
                           so much: and thus mr. starling
sang for me...
midnight came and i started looking for
my shadow to take to bed -
steal him i will / had to from
            the harem of the candlelight.