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Schon in frühen Kindheitstagen
hörst du,
Alles muss Sinn haben.
Nur Sinn im Leben
kann dir Zufriedenheit und Glück geben.
Das ist der Beginn
der verzweifelten Suche nach dem Sinn.
Doch man sollte die Zeit nicht mit Suchen vergeuden,
vielleicht ist
der Sinn des Lebens,
sinnfrei
zu
bleiben.
Er will nichts und niemand
bis auf seine liebliche Verlobte.
Er möchte ja nichts mehr
als mit ihr Liebe zu machen.

Sie will nichts und niemand
bis auf ihren vermisste Verlobte.
Sie hat keine Lust je länger zu warten
um wieder so nah zu ihm zu sein.

Die Schöne seines Lebens
ist so weit weg gewesen,
doch als ihre Lippen aufeinander prallen,
jede schlimme Dinge werden weg fallen.

Wann diese jugendliche Lieber
wieder zusammen sind,
nichts wird sie trennen
ausser ihre Haut und Schweiß.

Sie werden ja zusammen schlafen,
doch wird wenig Schlaf bekommen;
sie lieben einander weit zu viel
die letzte Monaten gelitten zu haben  
ohne solchem vollständige Ausgleich.
Lovers like to make Love
-
He wants nothing and no one
save for his lovely Fiancee.
He would like nothing more
than to make love with her.

She wants nothing and no one
save for her missing Fiance.
She has no desire to wait any longer
to be so close to him again.

The Beauty of his Life
has been so far away,
but when their lips collide,
every bad thing will fall away.

When these youthful Lovers
finally are together again,
nothing shall separate them
except their skin and sweat.

They will indeed sleep together,
though little sleep will be had;
they love each other far too much
to have suffered the last Months
without such thorough compensation.
[Please scroll down for an English translation.]

Keine Hoffnung toter Träume:
Ich dreh mich nicht mehr um mich selbst.
Ich lebe zwischen Streichhölzern
Und glaubte, mir gehört die Welt

Warum soll ich die Wunden lecken,
Die Zeichen meines Lebens sind?
Ich denke oft an stille Post –
Vielleicht hörst Du mir doch mal zu.

Und abends geht die Sonne auf,
Weil ich es will in meinem Traum.
Antworten sind Gift für Seelen,
Weil die Fragen sie erdrücken.

Denkst Du oft an mich beim Schlafen?
Ich weiß nicht, ob das wichtig ist.
Ich bereue nur, Dich nie gefragt zu haben:
Vermißt Du eigentlich Spanien?
___________
ENGLISH TRANSLATION:

No hope of dead dreams:
I do not revolve about myself any longer.
I live among matches
And presumed the world belonged to me.

Why should I lick the wounds
That are marks of my life?
I often think of Chinese whispers –
Perhaps you will listen to me once.

And in the evening, the sun rises
Because I want it so in my dream.
Answers are venomous to souls,
Since questions stifle them.

Do you think of me often in your sleep?
I do not know whether it matters.
I only regret never to have asked you:
Do you ever miss Spain?
Ich wollte dir ein Gedicht schreiben
Aber du wurdest mein Gedicht
Jetzt verstehe ich, als ich bei dir war
Dass die besten Tage meines Lebens verbracht habe

Ich wollte dir ein Gedicht schreiben
Weil du der Grund warst, warum ich mich verliebt habe
Und glücklich wurde, und träumte

Umarme mich von weitem
Lass mich nicht gehen
Länger zusammen bleiben

Ich wollte dir ein Gedicht schreiben
Weil ich wusste, dass Gefühl in mir richtig war
Und du warst es wert
RJ Days Mar 2014
Fanwisdom gedachting a hearth-billow in my Herz
Ich hab' gedacht it fairer still to know
Than amongst dein Welt it predisposes is perplexed aloof
Extraños kann nicht go where I must go

And von und an die spinniest of Hund
In peril and with Angsty tougher Hands
Will not crepuscular desecration sofort ensue
Für nichts ist wichtiger nur ein Liebling mood

Versucht wir probs and totes adorbs
But still zu schieße tired and hasst to sein
Während wir sollen in the proper sense
Man oh yeah das Man sagt en vino absorb'd

Was wicked waste and After it schmeckt schleck
Über ist nicht was es ich verpassen now
Most mehr mit Menchen kommt wieso I ask?
Wenn wo I know it is so very untoward to cow

Kuh oder a coo cannot redeem from drain
Zeit and Mal scent rempeln us all or push
Klar we cannot stop the starkest Zug
Nor yodel holler up the lane for ****

And just wenn denkst du, dass eyes is mad
Know that for Worten the harshest Lebens macht
To get you just to see and versehe sum
Unwertens none of us will ever be ich gedacht
Thomas Shepherd Jul 2016
Wenn es dich trifft wie aus dem Nichts,
dieser Moment hart wie ein Schlag
"Oh Nein", zuerst das Opfer spricht,
will niemand doch des Schmerzes leiden.
Doch hat der Schock sein positives
zum Denken er anregen mag
der Reflektion sei wahr geholfen
Trotz Schmerz, es ist ein schöner Tag.
Der Mensch sich sehr oft ungewiss,
was soll er tun mit seiner Zeit
Entscheidungen, zu oft befragt
konfrontiert mit Einsamkeit
Das Paradox des Lebens ist
wer sind wir, was soll ich tun?
Doch fällt die Lösung auch so schwer
jeder steckt in eignen Schuh'n
Schau vorwärts, denn nur dort kannst finden
dein Glück wenn du noch suchend bist
Bleib dir stets treu was auch geschehe
des Rätsel's Schlüssel in dir ist
Marie Nov 2020
Deine Worte erzählen von
heimatlosen Eisenbahnschienen
und vom wohlhabenden Fleisch,
das goldbehangen über seinen Rand hinauswächst


Von flügellahmen Fenstern,
von blattlosen Türen
und dem blumigen Duft eines Lebens,
dessen Atome längst im Staub der Zeit verloren gingen
Marie Nov 2020
Deine Worte erzählen von
heimatlosen Eisenbahnschienen
und vom wohlhabenden Fleisch,
das goldbehangen über seinen Rand hinauswächst


Von flügellahmen Fenstern,
von blattlosen Türen
und dem blumigen Duft eines Lebens,
dessen Atome längst im Staub der Zeit verloren gingen
Mateuš Conrad Dec 2023
am ende meines lebens angekommen, möchte (meschte) ich armer sünder auf diesem pergament zeugnis abgeben / having arrived at the end of my life, i want this poor sinner to surrender to the parchment-transcripts, handed over...

i haven't really listened to pop music in a long... while...
o.k.: i'm lying, there's a rubric of pop songs
i revisit habitually
like the religiosity implosion of church
from church-state (which, given the Vatican,
still exists) toward the church (one end)
state (the other end)... as with the disillusionment
of the concept of state... or is that nation, ethnicity
etc           etc            etc             ?      ?
                                                   ?      ? woo! a question sq.

i'm feeling very much **** clerical...
i'm a cleric of the Third *****...
times are great, given that someone had the *****
to put the unfair Treaty of Versailles
to some well-earned rest...
         rest assured: i will not be grieving the death
of letters, names, locations of birth
with some Auschwitz'ian sudoku...

nāmé (vornàmé)
  sur... name: nachnāmé... surname...

Grzegorz... Brzęczyszczykiewicz...

      (jak rozpętałem drugą wojnę światową -
how i unleashed world war II)
borrow from the film

verschließen! verschließen!
    
what is a V to a ******? Y has a name: igrek...
and V has a name: fał...

den mund halten? sort of confusing...
ver-shly-ss-en...
      my y oh why not not an i
when sometimes also an e...
ply-i
            Plymouth... Y done there right and proper...
say Plymouth one more time...
do you say: Plemouth or Plimouth...
you don't even utter mouth in the name
of an English city: plYmΩΘ

      the Y is a "hollowed out" iota or

ị: given that English, language, not the people
do not use diacritical markers
expect for i and j: aye, yes, affirmative and
jay... which is squeezing in jade... too...

Plymouth: my mouth is bleeding and i'm plucking out
teeth with my tongue...
i count 32 teeth... but only 26 letters in English...
i was getting assessed for an SIA license
today in Barking... the first Q that popped up
was: how many letters are there in the alphabet?

i should have written
a e i o u b c d f g h j k m n p q r s t

instead i wrote down:

a b c d e f g h i j k m n o p q r s t u v q w x y z...
yeah... with a Bachelor's degree in chemistry
you'd think i'd get that right....
apparently i have a blindspot for L...
jeez... i only had 25 letters...
had to check my phone...
twice... once for a missing letter Lil and El
and another time about what % and
the ugly baron of fraction (synonymous)
implied...

Barking Surrealism... i'm in England and yet
i'm being checked for language proficiency...
but i'm bilingual... don't talk to me about
schizophrenia and "losing touch with reality":
England has lost touch with reality:
outright...
my math wasn't so bad although...
i did get one question wong like wok desperado
because i answered the Q with
the better deal... not the worst deal
for a mobile phone contract...

now if i was an INDIGENOUS English fellow:
yeah... that would be intimidating...
but since i'm an immigrant myself...
well... (insert snigger): this is a bit of a topsy-turvy
tickle... isn't it?
i'm not ambitious enough for a middle-class
sitting at an office table gherkin festering...
but can you imagine...
being asked by an Asian or an African
if you speak the adequate English... in England?
which makes me think about the genius of
Russian hackers... do they speak proficient
Nigerian in Russia?! really?!

i was thinking about becoming a soap model
for adverts in Ghana half a year ago...
the pale complexion might give me a booster...
this is... absolutely, utterly:
Barking Surreal:
East End Surrealism...
i'm being assessed about my comprehension
of the English language... in England...
the **** do "people" speak in Antarctica?
penguin?! or do they speak chicken cluck cluck?!
and strut like geese? goose is the singular:
geese is the.... ha ha ha: mein *****!

this invention of a para-neo-**** cult of ideas
was bound to happen...
this is: a para-neo-**** cult of ideas:
it's a sort of bewildering scenario of: huh?!
it did happen, it has happened: it's happening, now?

personally i'm rather thankful that Europe has been
"invaded" by hordes from Asia and Africa:
i have a fetish for Indian and Latino girls...
i tried a black girl once...
she aimed at giving me a plum bruise on my
pelvis... she rammed down rammed down so hard
i almost forgot i ****** her in the dark...
it was pretty clear then that i was: no... she was...
aiming at circumcising me with her *******...
but i'm not a Heb' so no circumcision: thank you:
i have that excess skin for when i don't have
a ****** partner so there's no room for me to
make ******* a fetish...

but this was weird: i get the mathematical conundrum
but the language conundrum?
there are 32 teeth in the mouth of man...
as there are 32 letters in the Polish alphabet...
see! the wrong "aryans" lost the war...
Polacks from the 16th century onward
felt inclined to cite the migration of an Aryan
tribe toward the Vistula... the Sarmatians...
fake Aryans conquering truer Aryans...
drop the Q because that's like a faking C and K...
and drop the V...
and you get ą, ę, ć, ś... ó... ł, ż... ź...
technically you could also have š and č...
but then then Czech educator... theologian...
Yan (not Jane) Huß comes into play with Czech
and ž... and š and č...

to hide the Z in ****** or the H in English:
but then... no point hiding the H in English for too long
since: memories of Viking raids and the Norman invasion
you have enough free time to conjure up games
akin to football, cricket, rugby: goal oval ball H...
imitation of water-man and earth-man...
pass ball backwards but move forwards...

so much for meta-relationships:
i'm stuck in London, it's raining, therefore dreary therefore
i'm on reflective mode and melancholically adrift on
a memory-cinema of staying a month on
Kauai... funny how she says: Lay-che-ster...
Leicester... that's... Lester...
why not Lay-K'eh'ster? why does and who
advocates the C to become a K
and when did someone make his penny
on turning the C into a Σ?

   since that is the case, no?
ς = ç (transliteration-plagiarism):
there is no W or V sound in Greek...
R from P and P in Π - Greek to Latin transliteration
wasn't a complete plagiarism
that turned Zeus into Jupiter...
to this say Greek is reminiscent of Spanish whenever
employed in speech, or: zu sprechen...
sometimes even zu spreschen...

another quill... for my ugly peacock: -sch- / ś

grössenwahn - feindflug

a great motivational song to do bureaucratic
wordings of: filter the men who speak das zunge
from men who don't speak: dass / das das zunge...

30 minutes... from Havering Road to Barking Market...
compliments of owning a bicycle:
and using the Elizabeth line...
even by car alone the travel given
Bangladeshi traffic mantras would take me
close to 2h...
**** that...
every time i cycle in these "no go zones"
filled with Asians but no Ching Chong Wa's...
i'm worried about traffic accidents...
reminiscent of: niqabs are tunnel vision and goggles
and sometimes like crow-eyed
you see the first dinosaurs proper in chickens
before flight took off and chickens became
pigeons and it's scary to not find it funny
seeing how: i can't see! i can't see!
in the corner of my eyes those women
donning niqabs...

but i can get away with it
when i also see the "other Asians":
Sikhs... who... some even become proselytes when
it comes to the turban... shave their hair
and don western clothing because it's classy...
obviously the Muslims are an ****** hostile group
that need to feel comforted by
suicide bombings and shalwars and pajamas...
and those Palestinian headscarves:
but please... give me those guys
and not my ethnicity-shared-zombie-plot-holders
who came out of the Harry Potter transgender
apocalypse into the fore of political antagonism
a cause of causes...

basically ginger-bred foot ugly foo jimmy carr
typos... like typo is best defence for spelling
******* correctly?

i did listen to Edie though... every time i go
cycling, what do i eat should i feel peckish?
i eat 160g of chicken breast...
sometimes hot and spicy, sometimes bbq...
sometimes chinese chá-wah...
   but no carbohydrates... just the meat...
and oddly enough: i'm full for most of the day...
apparently i have a problem
because i sleep-eat... i also sleep-talk...
i truly miss being intimate with a bulb...
a woman... i don't understand *******...
to me... there's nothing better than an older...
voluptuous woman...
like my grandfather, Joseph, used to say:

a woman of full trim...
*******... ***... thighs...
and she is just that...
thanks to her i've forgotten what ******* is...

so we started talking about technology
how i use chatGPT to be able to write so freely here
for a canvas and an audience of 2
while also having to do the dreary prosaic...
and she sends me these filtered pictures
from tictoc and... given my access to AI...
seeing these "improvements":
but no no... she has the tenacity and the intelligence
to also send me the grotesque shots of herself...
in one...
she's the spitting image of: Schlitzie...
the pinhead circus freak!
and that's what's so fascinating!

the reality is: she's somewhere in the middle...
she's not some model
but she's also not some pinhead circus frrrrrr...
frrrr... (her daughter can't trill the R...
do the rattlesnake, ha ha)...

Edie: i beg to differ... there is no V in Greek...
ergo? Matthew...
last time i heard TH = Θ = F...
TH = PH:
phonetically... obviously these two letters
exist... identical phonetically
but when written down to exfoliate
in a change of meaning...

but now we have to be borrowing from Norse...
i.e. þought...
       and ðe: the thought...
how many times: it's not M'ah-view:
it's Math: mathematics...
how is mathematics different from Matthew...
the added T?
ma-th-ematics
ma-th-ew...
                  how on earth is that even phonetically
conceivable, that, i'm getting in "wong wonky"?

alðough ≠ alþough... clearly... all-foe?!
because given whatever Nordic letter:
although is said:
ål-v'oh... there is no T no H no G no H...
but that's how English is:
sort of French: two languages in one...
the phonetic said... and the counter-phonetic
written: of meaning off what is said...

å: owl - aul... even... or... that's plenty...
owl: ah! áwl! á = !
but punctuation dictate... surprise?

Maþew or Maðew? my view or my few?
thank god i don't like the sound of my own voice...
but this is good... this is good:
being brought down back to basics,
asked by Asians in England whether
i speak English in England...
this is good...
but like i choke-joked with her:
would a second language help?
people in these clerical positions are not exactly ready
for outliers like me who find this whole
schizophrenic-society funny...

i was once allocated the stigma of a unit
of schizophrenia i plagiarised and let go onto my environment
with stunning results:
well with bilingualism: am i not schizoid by
default?
oh right right... the intelligence typo:
must be... i somewhat wish i was born in a time
when people like Ezra Pound were committed to
institutions where no crimes were committed beside
wonk-fink...

          like the fetish for fascism is a...
in vivo depth-charge energy drive while
democracy is a cuckoldry in vitro sloppy seconds
of off "something"...

oh poor Amber... at the last Fulham shift...
she got a lesson in stoicism...
poor thing... maybe 17... came to the shift
without eating breakfast...
i sided with her: neither have i...
give it 30 minutes... she'll crack...
and she did... at first she was drawing doodles
in her notepad... then she approached me
about feeling ill and vomiting in the toilet:
wait there... i'll get someone...
found some safeguarding stewards:
apparently a grandma of sorts
who came round with a chocolate bar and an apple...
poor thing felt better... immediately...
girl: you don't go to work fasting
if you don't tease at the joys of
Stoic-Ramadan...
i like to feel the pain from hunger the the light-headedness
of not enough calorie intake...

obviously she went home: in tears...
but at least i found the help to pull her through:
this difficult task of mismanaging ****** fluids...
only recently i discovered i have bouts
of IBS: irritable bowel syndrome...

it's kind of funny: irritably so:
being of this branch of immigration that molded itself
into English society just at the right time
of seeing English Conservatism deplete itself
of any conservative credibility...
likewise seeing English liberalism turn into
a freakish illiberalism...
i too can become hyper-focused on grammar
and prune-those-nouns to "shape"!
i too: can become a grammar-****...
and with glee... not that i might mind to correct:

who doesn't like the odd schadenfreude of someone
buckling on a spelling of onomatopoeia?
because riddle me this: C U DER...
there is no seeing no you nor there, n'est ce pas?

nicht verloren: ein rückkehr:
schtill friedhöfe von Flandern:
             were once old foes of Europe fought for
bread and silk and the best societal ideal
to amass these billions of souls...
to be later scolded for... von ihre: fehler besitzen:
noch! würde nicht besitzen zu!

then again: the Hindu conceptualisation via reincarnation
is what? a pseudo-Vatican of the chosen / elected souls
migration through a zombie-land of flesh...
if it isn't then i don't know what 1 + 1 indicates
with = 2... reincarnation is a cognitive-caste symbiosis
for stereotyping the internal prejudices of the Indians:
lighter toned in the north:
oh don't you mind those Bangladeshi munchkin monkeys...

to think that only white people can be racist
is absurd... how did it come that i'm finishing this poo'em
on racism: page politics...
write two encouraging comments to get your poem
posted: another zombie sob story
white white white supremacy
patriarchy... kind of handy that feminism managed
to create a feminist platonism without actually
providing a female plato...
or a feminist german idealism without providing
a female kant...
because, you know: **** digs deeper than ****:
cognitively: some "bias"... must be the purple hair dye...

i blame white girls who haven't had a proper
**** but have only been exposed to ******* for this...
and "they" blame men and exposure to *******
as if: pedophiles are exclusively male...
and never, ever... female...
like it's all hush hush about female exposure to
******* that they spew these tangled *****
diatribes about white-fetish and father-double-fetish?!
missing... probably with some action: necro?
you'd hope...

can't get the decent **** so turns to political activism!
turns to narcissistic delusional licking of wounds...
can't use an AI chat bot because too busy
throwing on AI filters to save up on make-up when
catfishing...
Ken Pepiton Jun 2020
Ravens' swirl higher, riding wings silver in the sun.

These are Castenedas's silver birds,
or just as good as, to my mind,
held in animated state,
waiting,
still, conceiving the next frame,
in the film of this bitschen
auf
Das wahre Buch des Lebens,
unser eigenes, wo

Wir immer
slipping and falling in the confusion of tongue
authorized in truth exsousiated
by godly exercise, we
shift to a higher mind,
keep the slowandsteadywinstherace pace
then only be as if good, redeemed, as aword
good is god, or good as, right,
sword sworn to show off
phuckyew no longer tastes as foul,
taste the son,
kiss, not taste, yes, yes, all the yeses.. a flood

wisdom is first gentle,
persuasive in the gentle manly way, saying
you are beautiful,
inside out.

We seem to have ventured into further alone,
entertaining our selves into nevermind,
just in time to see the celebration.
A musical diversion... I intended to rant about how much I disliked Da 5 Bloods, but the timing is hard to miss, my art is making peace or I've been made a fool, foist on me own petard.

— The End —