the poet is a fragile me
that longs to gain eternity
by power of the word

the greatest fear is that
no poet but a nerd
    who cuddles into words
    and there gets lost
is what is heard
    outside this world of letters
and at the most
can claim illusions
    that may better
    the understanding of a verse
    of all the meaning it conveys
    the sorrow pain concern and love

and then again
    as said above
what reaches out beyond
     the mind that spins these notions
     of love and other great emotions
may just appear
as nothing but a comma
    in the ocean
    of words around the globe

that’s what we poets fear

my friends said last night
I should write something light
something shiny and bright
to the readers’ delight

no fights and no terror
no soldiers no war
no suicide bombers
no refugees galore

after all   it’s the season
when altogether we sing
of the love that we bring
to each other
    within reason

so I am doing my best
NOT   to make a clean breast
    of the worries that plague me
cuddle deep in my nest
only welcome the guests
who brings me good news
and carefully wipes
all bad cues from their shoes
ere they enter my house

so  
to rouse our good feelings
we all listen to the chimes
of the church bells a-pealing

and to a poem that rhymes

the power of the word
made our world
it alone can also save it

this is
a thankyou message to you all
who have accepted me in your community
of poets trying to articulate
what we feel is important

often it's love,
     with all its ups and downs
sometimes  it's death
     or loss of friends and the beloved
sometimes it is political
    because one cannot stand aside
    when human rights are stepped upon
    and hate speech threatens those
    who have already lost their homes
    their relatives   their children

as poets
I believe  
we have an obligation
     not only to make life
     more beautiful with our art
     find words in situations
     that tend to leave us speechless

but also to speak up in times
    when fuzzy rhetoric
    spewed forth by demagogues
tries to paint cruelties in friendly colors
    and lack of principles as necessary adaption
    to current times

the power of the word
    not only made our world

it  is the only way
to save it

a long time ago when
    according to the tradition
the three wise men
    already quite a bit exhausted
    for following that star for such a long time
finally found the right place
and looked at the baby eying their gifts
they were relieved to have reached
    their goal & done their duty  
    and   after exchanging the usual pleasantries
they turned around and went back home

little did they know
that their subject of veneration
    would make empires fear him
    and have him crucified
that his death would only last for three days
    and he would spawn a new religion
    of communal sharing and love
    that unhinged old empires and created new ones
that in his name multitudes
    would sacrifice  suffer  die   and ****

little did they know

Killing in the name of whatever god is always wrong!

Remember: Good girls go to heaven, bad girls go everyhere!