"kleine" poems
She wears t-shirts of the Beatles
And she loves the Rolling Stones
She wakes up to David Bowie
And she dreams of the Ramones
She goes out to dance clubs nightly
Till her ear drums both get blown
But, she has a deep dark secret
That her friends will never know
At night when she is by herself
When the room is nice and dark
She slips beneath the covers
With Johann Sebastian Bach
She's a closet classic ******
And her name is Amber Clark
She just loves orchestral music
The rock and roll is just a lark
Her friends think something classical
Is something for your folks
They cannot play an instrument
They cannot read the notes
They think that chamber music is
What people play on boats
But she has a deep dark secret
She loves the stuff that Chopin wrote
At night when she is by herself
And her friends have gotten ******
She slips beneath the covers
And she listens to some Liszt
She listens to it many times
In case there's things she's missed
She's a closet classic ******
She has "Baroque" upon her wrist
She listens to the music
That her friends like to be cool
If she told them what she listens to
They'd laugh her out of school
So, when they go out clubbing
She will join them as a rule
But...ah that deep dark secret
This girl is no ones fool
She listens to Beethoven
And she knows each piece by heart
She knows where one bar ends
And another one will start
She can play most every instrument
And she knows most every part
She's a classic closet ******
But she still knows Boyce and Hart
She has cds in her library
And most sit there untouched
When her friends are gone they don't get played
She doesn't like them much
She would rather hear a symphony
By a composter who was Dutch
But there's that deep dark secret
And she won't use it a crutch
At night when she is warm in bed
She listens to Mozart
She needs a little Nacht Musique
To open up her heart
It's a piece that sets her mind a blaze
It hits her like a dart
She's a closet classic ******
And she keeps her worlds apart
By day she sings Bruce Springsteen
At night she listens to
Composers that her friends don't know
They're so old they're new
So she keeps her world a secret
For she knows what they would do
If they found she didn't know
Where were you in sixty two
But at night she is a ******
And she listens to Mozart
She needs that piece of music
To shoot an arrow through her heart
Eine Kleine Nachmusic
She conducts every part
She's our Closet Classic ******
shhh.....the song's about to start...
May 4, 2012
May 4, 2012 at 11:35 AM UTC
Du warst meine kleine Aufklaerung
Obwohl ich noch lange nicht erwacht bleibe
Ohne dich fuehle ich die Waende
Und dreh mich den Kopf im Kreis
Bevor dich war der Horizont leer
Jetzt scheint er unfassbar, so wie die Erinnerung an dir
Und alles ist ok so, weil man sehnt immer nach
Unmoegliches
Unmoegliches bist du
Ich werde immer besessen davon
Besessen von dir
[You were my small Enlightenment
Although I long since remain unawakened
Without you I feel the walls
And turn my head in a circle
Before you was the horizon empty
Now it appears intangible, like the memory of you
And everything is ok this way, because one always longs for the impossible
You are the impossible
With which I will always be obsessed
Obsessed with you]
Jun 8, 2010
Jun 8, 2010 at 1:20 PM UTC
Vandag vloek-groet ek die verlede
en spuug die suur naam uit
en rig ek al my groot gebede
om gistergoed ook weg te smyt
Maar koester ek die kleine vrees
in die diepste van my hart
sal more net soos gister wees
breek die ook van die smart
en deel ek in vertroulikheid
my woordsopregte eed
as more soos 'n spiel wil lyk
sal dood my uit ellende sleep
Tog, mik ek vir die kruine
- droom my silwer droom
, vermy vergete pyne
van 'n toekoms palindroom.
Want as my lepel andersom
dieselfde as tevore lyk
wees jy ook nie te verstom
as ek na sagte doodsoen reik.
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 11:47 AM UTC
They had not seen each other in fifty years.
In between, a world war and a concentration camp.
Then my pop,
Erwin of the Homburg hat clan,
Went for the first time to the land of Israel,
From the safety of the United States.
A side trip, an unscheduled tour visit-stop,
A private memory to re-collect,
To a special hospital,
Where the survivors who did not really survive,
Live in tender care until there are no more.
A childhood friend to see, a dust to be disturbed.
In comes a man, now an American, a family man,
But with a European goatee, un-accented English,
Yet a boy, a young man from the Hamburg clan,
When last seen in the 1920's.
A voice calls out happy,
A miracle I call it.
Meine kleine Ervin!
My little Erwin!
What can I say other than
I weep as I write.
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 8:31 AM UTC
A restless fire burnt in her blue Aryan eyes
And she wore a pretty dress
Because she loved to be beautiful,
Even though she was by then
No more than a bird in a bunkered cage.
But the man she loved did not see:
He had other priorities, affairs of state,
Still blindly fighting a lost war.
The others in the bunker wanted to live
And prayed they might escape to the world,
Such as it was in those closing weeks;
But Eva did not care, as she knew her destiny,
Finally coming out of the shadows.
She so much wanted to be young and happy
Even when there was nothing to celebrate,
Even when their world was disintegrating
In those final doom-laden Berlin days.
Eva wanted so to dance in the Spring,
But there was nothing to dance about
And no one to dance with.
Eva had no fear of death’s sad sting
As long as she was with her beloved.
But as the dark days went by,
Inevitable hopelessness set in;
And then the very last hours came,
When all hope of victory was finally gone,
Destroyed by the roar of the conquerors’ barbarian guns
And their wild revengeful **** and pillage.
So kleine Eva finally married him, her Fuehrer,
But to what avail and for what hopeless future?
Soon they would be joined only in death,
Despised by a scornful, hating world,
Their corpses burned by devoted soldiers,
And then fought over by divided allies.
Little Eva was not very bright,
But her eyes shone brightly as she died
Happily, died for him whom she worshipped:
To her, Adolf was her friend and lover
And a shining hero, not the devil incarnate.
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 1:43 PM UTC
me and collie took the town by storm,
black man and white man
drinking buddies? what a rarity.
uncle didn’t join us the old ghanian,
we had drunk sentimentalities, of course,
but when russel the schizoid rudolf came
up and told us the tottenham man city score
i went into the alley and almost ****** myself
prior shouting h and a into an ivory rattle of teeth.
but what a night, collie’s girlfriend i also met,
i remember kissing her dry brown skin
on the bone of finger, before being chauffeured home;
but of course, before all that, staring into
the gape of being centralised by the passerby’s eyes,
a lot of english pyjama beauties walked the talk
getting their score of **** -
if not more.
but as i pointed out to the white colt - the jeans below the knees
with... calvin kleine - ‘mate, you need flashy underwear to
walk with your **** exposed - primani ain’t gonna cut it for the hoes.’
Sep 27, 2015
Sep 27, 2015 at 8:56 AM UTC
As I drifted off last evening, I had no idea I’d see you again.
But there you were in my dream and it was wonderful to see you again my friend.
You made your way through this celestial space to meet me at the roily water’s edge,
And a smile came upon your face and it illuminated the skies.
….”and in the distance, I could hear Wolfgangs “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik” playing”
“How are you John?” I asked.
“I couldn’t be better Kurt because this Kingdom is so special” he replied.
And we tarried there awhile and shared memories with one another,
We reminisced of our childhood, growing up, and our happiest moments in life.
….“I felt as though something in my life had prepared me for this time with him”
As the clouds sped above us, you told me how much you missed your wife and children,
and how much you looked forward to helping them cross this river one day.
More than anything I needed John's help with this question... "If you see my Mom, would you tell her I love her and that I miss her every day?”
He assured me he would do his best to give her the message.
…”And just then, a quote appeared and it read “the smallest deed is better than the greatest intention”
And as I stood on one side of the river and you the other,
I flashed John the live long and prosper gesture and he to me.
He began playing one of my favorites on his Sax, and he disappeared into the clouds above me.
I awoke, still hearing his parting words resonating in my head….
….Don’t cry because I’m gone, smile because I live on”
Sep 12, 2017
Sep 12, 2017 at 3:50 PM UTC
Still lächelnd schau ich dich an
doch du bist nur der kleine fang
Dachtest du hättest noch Macht
doch stattdessen bin ich die die lacht
Warte es nur ab bis ich dich seh
dann liegst du mal mit gebrochenerer Nase im Schnee
Mir wurde immer gesagt negative Gefühle wären schlecht
doch sie zu denken ist nur mehr als recht
Denn wohin soll die ganze Wut ?
Unmöglich glücklich zu sein wenn man immer nur nichts tut!
Früher war ich klein
wollte doch nie mehr als glücklich sein
Hab heute mein Ziel erreicht
und du bist es der schleicht
Denn die Rollen haben sich gewechselt
nun suchst du das Schild mit Exit
Hab keine Angst mehr vor dem der du bist
denn bin stärker und weis das wenn du die scheiße frisst
Lasst ruhig die Wut zu und die Gedanken frei
dann ist es meist noch schöner als am 1. Mai
Denn Gedanken sind keinen Taten
und wenn du sie zulässt brauchst du nicht mehr zu raten
sondern nur noch zu warten
Es zeigt sich nämlich von allein
das auch du bewahren kannst den schönen Schein
Nur zu Gunsten von dir selbst
so das du nicht mehr fällst
Eure Angst wird zu Wut
einen Schritt den man nicht einfach so tut
Zeigt jedoch das du weiter bist als zuvor
öffnest die Welt zu einem neuen Tor
Lache jetzt nur noch über dich
bist du diejenige die zusammenbricht
doch Mitleid bekommst du nicht
Ist mehr als verdient was die passiert
vielleicht mal diejenige die sich geniert
mal wissen was es heist Schmerzen zu fühlen
ein Versuch im gewissen zu wühlen....
Dec 12, 2017
Dec 12, 2017 at 12:41 PM UTC
Like a road around a corner
never disappearing Michigan old
glory eugenics for German laws
Thirties’ ezratics racialist
limpieza de sangre, Velazquez
awaiting ennoblement, Ezra hound
reads Italian translation, 1940
Mia Battaglia kleine mein
stumpf, o sweet Alabama
his small light
utterly
erased, obliterated, negated
Cruel hygiene unmixed
hieratic Idaho’s
small pebbles, turquoise
tesserae, Roman, Babylonian,
and them Assyrian archers
Ever unstill Ixion ever turning
Re: Canto CXIII
2017.11.12.
Jan 20, 2018
Jan 20, 2018 at 10:09 PM UTC
Fehler gibt es immer wieder,
Manchmal wenig manchmal viele
Manchmal große manchmal kleine
Mit Konsequenzen oder keine
manche werden schnell vergessen
während andere stattdessen
sich tief in deinen Kopf einbrenn´
und nie vergessen werden könn´.
und wenn man so ein ‘Fehler mal begeht
und erst im Nachhinein versteht
was für Folgen dieser hat.
gibt’s mehr als eine schlaflose Nacht.
Und man sich nur noch fragen kann
was wäre wenn… was wäre dann?
Doch was man tat das ist passiert
Und auch wenn man es oft probiert
Lässt sich ein Fehler nicht umkehren
Doch wird dich eines bessren lehren
Denn an der Zeit kann niemand drehen
Und auch wenn ewigkeiten vergehen
Muss man aus sein´ Fehlern lernen
Und zu etwas bessrem werden
Fehler sind zum denken da
Und somit auch nicht unbrauchbar
Manche klein und manche groß
Gibt jeder dir ein denkanstoß
Feb 23, 2019
Feb 23, 2019 at 1:25 PM UTC
De eerste plek van mijn suikerfeestgebed!
Je was al oud, maar nooit een stuk antiek,
Je had ook nooit een mooie minaret,
Maar toch een moskee, vanbinnen klassiek.
Nu loop ik langs jou stenen, met gedachten
Die steeds proberen te herinneren
*** het nou was; wat mensen hier brachten,
Wat was het wat ik deed al die keren?
O gebouw van oudsher, nu ben je onbekend,
Een oude plaats alleen van nostalgie,
Door nieuwelingen word je niet gekend,
En nu een stukje in de poëzie.
Eerst kleine handjes, kleine gebeden,
Nu een jongeman, kijkend naar het verleden.
Aug 1, 2018
Aug 1, 2018 at 7:35 AM 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
I reel off a little revolution...
I reel off a little revolution
I reel off a little pretty revolution
I am no longer of land
I am back to be water
I wear creamy crest on my head
and some shooting shadows in it
On my back a mermaid asleep
and the wind well at rest
The wind and the mermaid sing
of the rustle of the creamy crest
of the falling of shooting shadows
So
I reel off a little pretty rustling revolution
and I fall and I whisper and sing
Apr 7, 2020
Apr 7, 2020 at 10:09 AM UTC
Het einde kwam te snel
Je was nog niet klaar
Je had nog zo veel te beleven
Je had nog zo veel te geven
Je leven was niet zonder pijn
Ik had graag al die pijn weggenomen
Ik had graag je wensen zien uitkomen
Samen met je liggen wegdromen
Toch kon je genieten van de kleine dingen
En wat was ik blij als ik je aan het lachen kon brengen
Jouw lach zal me altijd bijblijven
Jij zal me altijd bijblijven
Apr 21, 2020
Apr 21, 2020 at 7:53 PM UTC