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Samira Meroe Jul 2010
sie kniet mächtig unter über unter ihrem Haar
du bist süchtig, ihrer blicke, deren Anmut, feurig starr
sie erhebt sich, ganz entblößt, doch vollkommen und bestimmt
und dann erzählt sie, in ihrer Schönheit, dass sie ist doch noch ein Kind

Dieses Mädchen, verworren wild, voller Kraft und voller Geist,

OH DIESER ANMUT 
DIESE SCHÖNHEIT
DIESE BLICKE

sie sagt leis,
oh liebe Freundin,

du willst doch nicht,
mir weis machen,
ich bin du,

deine Reinheit,
mit meiner,
nicht zu vergleichen ist.

Und mein Ich, es schaut mich an, so licht, leicht voller Seele.
Und als ich denke DAS BIN ICH, kommen die, die fehlen,
tausend Mädchen, sie bin ich, ich bin nicht mehr zu zählen.
TAUSEND GEFÜHLE: DAS BIN ICH
dann versinke ich in Tränen
Okay, wenn ich mich recht erinnere, hast du gesagt:
"Wenn ich nach drei Monaten immer noch keine Gefühle für sie hab',
wird sie wohl nicht die Richtige sein."
Wenn ich mich recht erinnere, hattest du es verneint:
"Es gibt tausend Unterschiede, die uns teiln'."

Hast du dich blind gestellt
oder konntest du nicht aufpassen?
Sie hat dich längst in ihr Herz geschlossen...

1.) ... und die Tür zugeknallt
Wie ihr lachend auf dem Rasen spielt
dein Lächeln ist eine Kurve, die alles wieder gerade biegt
2.) ... und den Riegel vorgeschoben
Wie ihr euch wissend gegenübersitzt
und wir zwei plötzlich wieder Fremde sind
3.) ... und den Schlüssel dreimal umgedreht
(ich bin cool damit)

Okay, du hältst mich weder für clever,
noch bin ich aus zuckersüßem Kaugummi,
aber wenn Anfassen so simpel sein soll
und Berühren eine Kunst;
um was wollen wir dann wetten, dass sie schwach wird,
wenn du deine Hände benutzt?
Also bleiben deine in den ihren,
so lange du sie dort lässt

4.) ...und Martin:
Der Deckel muss nichtmal genau passen,
wenn er all die Hitze hält
JA
Samira Meroe Jul 2010
was ist es nur, dass es tut
dass ich nicht mehr bin ich selbst
unter tausend, selbst bei dir
Sonnenstrahlen fallen gut

lassen glitzern
lassen fallen
setzen sie in Ironie
lassen los
und trocknen leise
was ich nannte Melancholie

was ist es nur, dass es tut
dass ich weine, nicht mehr rede
selbst bei dir, du der meine
du sagst es ist vier Uhr vier

lassen sagen
ohne Worte
was ich nicht zu fühlen vermag
halten fest
verlieren sich
verlieren mich
verlier ich dich

sie flüstern leise
du bist so stolz
Souleater Feb 2018
Komplett durcheinander
Herz übernimmt,
kenn dich doch kaum,
andere würden sagen:"die spinnt"

Und ja irgendwie stimmt das auch,
hab bei dir ein gute Gefühl im Bauch
Ein warmes ziehen breitet sich aus,
so viele Gefühle, die müssen alle raus

Macht mir Angst der Kontrolle verlust,
verbreitet zeitgleich die Wärme in meiner Brust

Werd dich in mein Herz lassen,
also tu mir nicht weh,
geb mir keinen Grund zum hassen
Wie wird es sein wenn ich dich endlich seh?
Wirst du mich noch so wie vorher wahrnehmen?
Oder willst du dann das ich geh?


Das Chaos in mir übernimmt
die Uhr unaufhaltsam rinnt
will das du bleibst
weiter offen zu mir bist und nicht schweigst
will deine Nähe spüren,
will dich auch berühren

Fühl mich peinlich berührt deswegen,
macht mich halt einfach verlegen

Kann mir es nicht mehr ohne dich vorstellen,
wenn du mich berührst durchfahren mich tausend Wellen
gibst mir das, was ich immer wollte,
gebührend Respekt ich dir zollte
du mich mit all meinen Macken anerkennst und liebst,
mich in den Arm nimmst und mich nicht wegschiebst
Will die Ewigkeit mit dir verbringen,
werden gemeinsam mit unseren Problemen ringen
Bin dir dankbar dafür,
öffnest mir eine neue Tür
wo leben bedeutsam ist,
Und man vorgeht mit Wahrheit und nicht mit list!
Souleater Feb 2018
Hoffnung hintern Berg vergraben
hörst um dich herum tausend stimmen die etwas sagen

Jeden Tag fröhlich pfeifend losmaschiert
im trott drin, den Schmerz mit einem Lächeln kaschiert
Der Rückweg zeigte jeden Tag das Ergebnis
war meistens für mich ein traurig Erlebnis

Stumm mit leisen Tränen
der Körper ausgelaugt
kaum zu sehen, nur am gähnen
war tapfer daheim,
zeigte keinem mein trauriges dasein

Wenn ich rede, wird es schlimmer,
da standen sie mir drohend gegenüber, die Gewinner
mit ihrem breiten Lächeln geschmückt
waren von meinem leid mehr als nur entzückt
Genießten die Macht die sie umgab,
immer wieder aufs Neue, jeden verdammten Tag
Seele brutal zerschlagen
nicht nur die Taten, auch das was sie zu mir sagten
ohne Rücksicht auf die Auswirkungen die kommen werden,
hatte mir in der Zeit mal vorgestellt wie es wäre zu sterben
keinen mut mehr zu haben,
sich unter seinem eigenen wert zu vergraben ...
Jiali Jan 2021
Dein kahler Kopf leuchtet
wie tausend Äpfel
Ich bin sehr ungeordnet
Aber du bist eine Freude für meinen Augapfel
20/02/21 00:49
and what of the other tree, that bore fruits of truth
and falsehood,
by now we should have summed up: realised
that of the tree that smothered us with
a supposed confusion of not being able
to differentiate good from evil and evil from good:
we could attest with the good evil
and the evil good: in algebra the equivalent
to: a quadratic equation...
in a world where the established binary order
has become binomial... all because of ***-strangulation
akin to how the fusion of swan-monogamy
and chimpanzee polygamy - arab harems still
legal... just like slavery was still legal
for those camel jockeys as far as 1970s "officially":
yet still unofficially: the Bangladeshi slaves
of Qatar...
surely the supposed bonum ultimatum ex deus
suggests: a deity without a rigorous campfire
storytime, not plucking of the eye no hardship
of an Odin... not accountability of man
retracting, netting his existence with that dreaded
omni- prefix attached to some Prof Xavier (ex saviour)
type dynamic demagogue (gnostic gnomes
understood this, only recently i honed in
on the pronunciation of the word: yacht...
it's apparently YAT... not yαχτ -
the ch is a surd compound... unlike CHange...
unlike CHasm... no wait: Napoleon, wait...
             that's Kasm... Charon? or Haron?
i.e. Xaron? no, not kss kss... not QW QW off of a C or K...
i'm getting flashbacks from reading
James Joyce's Finnegans Wake...
     which in a time where only Orwell's 1984 is cited
with mass recognition like it's some dodo
retraction from reading the Bib'le to the dot
almost blindly... eh... m'eh...
            so i was watching this Tucker Carlson
interview with Vlad the Putt -
and... i switched off from the history lesson up
to the point where Vladie ol' Boy (he's getting old...
he's becoming irrelevant, sorry, but the guy ought
to take a Pope Emeritus stance... too much John Paul II /
Elizabeth II imitations... those ******* would cling
to the throne and sceptre and cross
all drooling, slobbering their clinginess to power...
respect for Pope Emeritus I - Ratzinger Ratz...
i switched off when he mentioned how the Polacks
collaborated with the Nazis... sure sure...
and the Soviets didn't invade Poland from the east?
right? they didn't... 123 years... ABC timespan
of "lost property"...
         bullies... ganging up... oh never mention
the ******* Swedes and the Turks have a stab...
1772, 1793, 1795 - oh and 1939...
altogether: perfect... 4 partitions of Poland...
we collaborated... we should be thankful for Joe Stalin
taking away our pride of lions: Lviv...
for what? Posen? we already established that town...
Breslau then... thankful?
thankful as in: the Katyn massacre of our intellectuals
service men of the army that the ******* Cossacks
blamed on the Nazis?!
to be frank... war = education... and let me tell you:
the Nazis were by far the better educators
to that ******* lump of red of Siberia:
those KACAPY... kaptur (hood): kacapy?
hoodlums...
                            the Nazis were by far the better
educators than the Soviets...
i'm just wondering... were we seriously on the NEXT
list should the Holocaust have been completed?
we sort of were:
    i do feel a grudge thinking that "my" people were
used as slave labour to build those futile camps...
but there's no knowing that logic went into
speaking about establishing a tausend jahr *****
and negating as a downfall joke: arbeit macht frei:
what work?! the working up to slaughter?
that's what happens when sophists come into power...
talk daisies all day long but end up
skewering potato *******...
          it's almost fascinating though: how eastern
rulers are historically conscious
while western rulers are: out to lunch when it comes
to any historical reference(s)...
living a journalistic insomnia of day-to-day...
i'll give Putin that much credit: he speaks history...
can an American president do the same?
unlikely... Russia is old... and the worst thing you
can do to a Russian is gang up on him...
bear and rat... corner a rat: say goodbye to your
artery in your neck...
you can't isolate a Russian: esp in this fair game
fair for all spirit of the Olympics...
strip a Russian of a flag, allegiance?
                    i'm defending an enemy because:
i have respect for him...
      only recently i was speaking to Charlie the Cypriot
and we were both like:
conscripted into the English army...
and fight for what? what?!
gay marriage, pronouns of transgender... what?!
what continuity of life, what existential integrity
are we... ******* talking about?
fight for a ******* dead-end? cul de sac existentialism?
i'd probably switch to the Russian side
if push: and it's being pushed: now comes the shove...
or... is there something not masculine about
me whereby: "daddy" comes in and says: look...
with that grin so diabolical it can allow him
to use 6 human bollards to control a rough estimate
of 10,000 people... dictating traffic into a tube station...

so we know that there's good evil and that there's
evil good... because there is no good good
there is no evil evil... there is no purity dynamic:
good contaminates evil and evil contaminates good...
oddly enough...
salt water and fresh water...
can't drink the sea...
but isn't fresh water easily contaminated by
parasites? eh eh?!

cite Oliver Moody: Poland doubles size of army
to counter Russia...
heroic victory over the Red Army in 1920
known as the Miracle of the Vistula...
doubled from 95,000 to 200,000...
        ultimate condition for feeling safe:
300,000 personnel...
                   1,600 tanks... more than Britain,
France, Germany, Spain and Italy... COMBINED...
fringe master 3D chess (3D chess?
that's when you know how to orientate people:
i can't exactly say: tell people what to do...
but then again people behave differently
in a crowd, there is no individualism...
the only individualism is of those idiots that argue
that waiting in a queue in an egress situation
of a stadium is their rights being taken
while gladly queuing in a supermarket with
their groceries... the singlefile allure of "reason"
*****...)
he's right though: delinquents of NATO...
so happy that they don't know the stench of
a Mongolian horde... or the Ottoman **** slurp...
just stick to your ******* garden variety life
of an islander and be content with:
oh, only the Norman invasion, how many civil wars
did we wage (is that only two?
the war of the roses and that other one with Ollie
Crommie; only two?)
and that fun side project of Jane Austen,
cricket, football or rugby...
                            now that's the life... sitcoms and
Monty ******* Python wits...
have to start calling them the wits versus the wigs...

but what of that other tree?
we established that there is good evil and there's evil good...
Erwin James just died:
convicted murderer with a troubled past who used
his sentence to shed light on life behind bars
through a column for the Guardian (2016 memoir,
Redeemable)... hmm... algebra:
                           (a + b)² = a² + 2ab + b²
now: was "i" telling a lie when "he" said that you
will know the difference between good and evil?
he said that i don't so...
another pronoun game?! IT and NOTHING are also
pronouns... they doesn't concern me...
you can be it or nothing: you's noose a bit, loose?
you snooze: you lose.
oh i can address myself in third person...
only today i woke trying to rework Jungian psychology
with the "crudeness" of the Cartesian:
res cogitans, res extensa... with my neo-Cartesian
instigation of res vanus into the whole dynamic:
basically: as much as i'd like to think that i'm a thinking
thing... i'm not actually thinking all the time...
my thinking is not a ******* AC/DC momentum:
i switch off... by switching off i invite the dynamic
of res vanus... an empty vessel...
which allows me to drift into res extensa and
re-orientate my consciousness by sometimes
catching myself thinking: passively...
should the dynamic of res cogitans be kept integrally:
well then... no wonder i studied madness
throughout my 20s... res cogitans: over-thinking
creates a schizophrenic res extensa dynamic of
hallucinating audio... vox ultra...
why think you can control thinking to subsequently
wonder why the ego has been isolated and
is seemingly beyond our control to then couple it
with all that self- *******?
by now elaborating and nice language is not on
the cards!

what of that other tree, the easier one to manage:
we ate two fruits, i think...
or at least i ate from the fruit of truths and falsehoods...
that's easier to stomach...
you can tell a truth from a lie...
can't you?                good was always going to be
conflated with evil...
because this life is a paradox...
       a paradox with clear indicators of logical steps...
gravity for one but then
we found:
                       m₁m₂
           F = G. --------
                           r²

what am i alluding to? what Fall of Man?
to me God fell... after all: how come we came into
contact with words, encoding sounds
to subsequently elaborate what we meant by X?
the Rise of Man... coupled with the Fall of God...

maybe i'm just put off by Cyrillic thinking that
it's a cheap knock off of Greek: which it is...
no one is going to convince me that
Cyrillic is half baked half arsed wholly drunk
when it comes to ensuring there is no Latin influence
protruding with some of the letters...

Аа contra Αα     see... half baked...
Ее contra Εε        again... half baked...
Зз contra Ζζ       half baked
Мм              Μμ half baked...
obviously i'll be more influenced by the Germanic
strand of what's the expected European...
history lesson Putin?
how about you align yourself to that shared
conflict with the northern crusades
after the death of Barbarossa
when the disillusioned Germans were still
eager for some crusade and if not the Muzzies
then the Lithuanian pagans...
how about the Battle of Grunwald 1410
and 1242 Battle on the Ice...
because isn't that how the northern crusades
started, from the disillusioned Germans
coming back with limp ***** after their great
Barbarossa drowned in a ******* puddle?
            hey hey: meet you halfway?!
because like i already mentioned: sooner the Slavic
people start a war against themselves
than succumb to this current western miasma...
myopia... m'eh to life...
have some ***** and a vitality: some life...
war is education...
and i do want a Russian for an enemy than a friend...
i tried having a Russian girlfriend
well obviously that backfired...
but St. Petersburg back in 2007 was such a welcoming
place...
Moscow too...
but i will not invoke Cyrillic... it's aesthetically unappealing
for me to erode whatever's left of my brain
cells on that: when i can have the beautiful Greek!
this heat is unbearable: there's no ice in
this night,
said the king of hollow:
and hallow replied: i see you:
clearly:
as the days of future Us allow you
to see me
but you are so captivated in
the orchestra of poet
that's the flutes of persona:

no... i am not a useless drunk:
deranged project of a missing
mother or a no-father...

i will go ahead...
show you
myself
before you stop being stupid
and loving me
how i sprain how i strain
how i flog you living
i didn't hurt your feelings
i didn't hurt your feelings
i didn't hurt your feelings
i just gave you negative emotions
to digest:
to experience:
i just gave you the bad apple: Eve...
i admit...
i am jealous:
i ate: the apple first:
i'm looking at your eating the good apple
of Augustus
while giving you the maggoty fruit
of Autumn and October...
what apple?
did i give you, dearest woman:
my Chaos in Order of One
in that's Woman:

i also want to write about the taming
business:
i want to be head of the household:
Prasutagus...
i want you to be my antithesis Lady Macbeth:
i want you to be my
Boudica...
Veltic: Celts: C / S belts...

         i am the sober drunk king!
i am the sober drunk king!
i am night!
eyes!
ice!
i am the sober drunk king!

saying goodbye to London
with Quarus:
but i did want to take Veronica Veroniya
to Paris...
for a photo-shoot:

even pets have human dreams:
to escape the ape
and embrace the grotesque god
found in Auschwitz...
for a second there i misspelled ms. pelled:
Giza: replacing it with Auschwitz:
nothing personal:
just biblibal...
just BIBIBLAL:
not allah...

although i wanted to recreate painting
via
piano into writing: from writing
via piano
into the realm of painting...

thought as unit
of memory,
of idea
of grammar
i think
you think
we think
our thinking
unit

she will not find me elswhere
beside the silence of philosophers
and there: i decide:

not a thousand year *****:
not...
a thousand year: war!
it must begin in the realm
of contemplating English history
and the 100 year war...

KEIN TAUSEND JAHR *****:
das der tausendjährige Krieg:
i wan't no struggle... man...
you will go silently into the grave:
democratically...
and with the help of A.i. i will slow
you down to your demise...
i want a war worth a thousand years
i want:
in that respect: a new religion, no?

ah dasha: ilya: hashem: nikita:
such... transgender names:
don't you think?
pronouns are grammar and grammar
is algebra:
that's also abstract: Aztec: Moor: moo!
moon: luminaries from the Baptism
Fountain that's the Vatican:

boys with girl names...
at least in Russia
boys have girls' names
but manage to sock
their feet and put it into shoe
*** shoe *** shoe?
at least the boys
didn't waste their time on
dogma:
propaganda:
but discovered Siberia
and Iberia...
                         Honey Gone Solo
Zalez...!

            mein kampf        contra
ich kampf:

in need of surgical tools:
the born and bred:
British Excalibur...
sorry?
a- indefinite article
+-the=+         definite article...

           but there's so much humbling to begin with:
i don't think you understand belief:
there's no belief anymore:
people are lost the concept of belief:
they have adopted a construct of: being humbled...

be a leaf... became::
be -ing hum: mmmmmmmmm: bled: dried:
not humbled:
i will Islam to convene after me:
bee:
i ask the surah: i don't ask Muhammad!
GDo spoke|:
j ensured
vowels remain leftovers....

i want a thousand year war....
not a thousand yawn of state....
i want a state of being
not a being of count
i will not count...

                   i want a war that
transcends states:
i wish as much USA as IRAQ
but then RUSSIZ>Ń
got involved:
pre to hey
presto: a Nero-Hey-Zeus!
ale to brat brata charata!
ty tycz: swoj czyn:
ja pierw: ty: o godzine: potym!
sra!         albo nie sra!

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