the darkness of the mind
has gorges fathoms deep
with asphalt bitterness

tar babies of the soul
abound and toddle clumsily  
around in endless orbs
that neither know their center
nor their course

a ghastly crowd
   of orphans
floating by open doors
   unaware

what do you call
a more or less elected leader

who is unable
    or unwilling

to work for
    the health and safety
of his nation?

LOSER!!

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

all poetry is personal
some more than others

to just spread out your private feelings
     in your verse
may not be everyone's delight

but if you choose words
so that the many find their voices
    in your own
you may be lucky
to achieve all poets' dreams

your personal voice
becomes the public

one of the Orient’s oldest
and most beautiful important cities
inhabited for thousands of years
by generations after generations
of craftsmen, merchants, artists, dynasties,
famous architects of all styles and religions,
the western end of the old silk road
home to over 2 million citizens
until not long ago

a few weeks of modern warfare
were enough to destroy
what hundreds of generations had built
for their living as well as their sense of beauty

     rockets exploded churches, temples, and mosques
     artillery pulverized ancient palaces and new houses

     barrel bombs and poison gas
     killed the people

on tv we now see acres of urban wasteland
miles of rubble with no life
except for occasional tanks and soldiers
proclaiming victory over these ruins
in the name of a dictator whose regime
has become a puppet in global power games
no matter what the cost in lives or things

     to destroy is easy
     building things up is hard work

     with friends like these
     who needs enemies

my world of phantasy is one
where I can save the universe
by the sheer power of my will

my force of thought
deflects the course of meteorites and comets
from collision with our globe

I make rain forests grow
   back to their former size
endangered species
   thrive and multiply

my will turns greedy politicians
into statesmen caring for the citizens
that voted them into their offices

all military hardware
becomes food
to feed the hungry of our world

wars are duels
fought between leaders
of contending states
no young soldiers die
for ambitions of their elders

cars only need hydrogen
recycling is the way of life
water and wind and plants
provide infinite energy

people I hurt
do understand
it was not done on purpose

and I can even tell my children
how much I love them

alas
my world of phantasy

remains just that

the chandelier in the Venetian Room
   crystallized tears, perfectly shaped
   and transparent
alive with the glow of ancient candles
   reflected on mirror walls

I hear the mirrored gaiety
  of well-clad people

  imaginary music playing softly
    ancient tunes
  keen flashbulbs working
    to transfix the moment

I remember the separating laughter
  in the downstairs hall
  bland smiles and secret glances
words unspoken
occasions pass into history
  possibilities remain
forever

"And how rewarding to have had all
  of you here with us!"

Hugs, taxis, kisses, busses
  early breakfast
"Write to me", " Send me
  the photographs"

  "Of course"

When your are undecided, remember:
The left is always right!

                  * *

even on a day
like this one
   when

   with all the blue sky
   and the sun

life suddenly
looks grey in grey

so different
from the day before

I do love you
even more

   *  *  

time & space contract
into one single
   flaming
    point

blazing its way
through future memories

of will have been
has been
and of was

brilliant star
on a night journey

          * *

the time we spend
on sorting trivialities
one should not always
see as wasted

it can be a reprieve
     or an escape
from life‘s important questions
that tend to overwhelm us
now and then

solving our little problems
helps us establish
the much-needed illusion of order
in our life
encouraging us
to tackle bigger questions

in restless sleep
under a full moon
the mists of rain
swarming with demons
of the hidden soul
I keep dreaming
   I hear
the ringing of the telephone

my lifeline
to my beloved
so distant   and yet
almost painfully close
behind my half-closed eyes

so I stumble down
stairs in the dark
grab the receiver
and listen
   with freezing heart
to echoes
   of silence

           * *

Especially in bad times, giving up is not an option!

when we start our day
how it might end

whether we'll see
our loved ones again
after we say goodbye to them
in the morning

wheter the world
will kerp on turning
as we know it

we do not know

yet we asssume

a world built on asumptions
is the only one
we have

I deplane
   under a drizzling sky
and see little else but
rain clouds hanging low
over bare hilltops
  and a few wet apartment buidlings
  beyond the runway

knowing you are there
   I feel at home

           * *

I sit
   all by myself
   again
and look out
   down upon the streets
cigarette in hand
a glass of wine upon the table
love's sweet exhaustion lingering in my bones
   and smell upon my skin
feeling so young and yet somehow so old

a late night bus drones by
and takes strange people
   to their desired stops
in a city
where I know only few
that could say
  yes  
  it's him

a woman with unsteady midnight gait
secretly walks her dog
into the public park
   both little more than blurs
   of bluish white and brown
   in the half-shadow
   of forbidden bushes

a couple leans entwined
   forever in a parting kiss
   upon the doorstep
unmindful of the plane
   that comes in low and loud
   before the landing

why is it that these moments
   seem eternal and yet
I sense the rush of time go fast
   and pass me by
   and her
   who sleeps next door

and leave us lost among our memories
of what was lovely
   and so beautiful
   before

          *

When I consider how my days are spent,
with work that leads to work, with little time for meditation
except for a few moments, now and then
on trains, or planes, or in the car,
at times I feel our Western civilization,
may not have taken us so very far.

Not that I am ungrateful for electric light:
it eases one of our deepest fears -
of nights that cast a dazzling darkness on creation
until another sun returns it to our appreciation.

Yet I do wonder if our brilliant sight
derived from deftly harnessed natural powers
makes us indeed see more of that strange world of ours
than saw an old man's dimming vision under candlelight.

life on our globe has turned
truly ‘complificated’
and many struggle to maintain
a semblance of the ordinary
in our daily goings about town

face masks, regulations and prescriptions
have changed how we can interact
if we may at all
with each other, friends, family, or strangers

physical distancing may rise desire
for at least digital social closeness
yet in its wake
emotional remoteness seems to grow

hanging like a shadow over
occasional live meetings with old friends
children, aunts, uncles, grandparents etc.

we watch them with veiled suspicion
they somehow look a little less familiar
since we met them last time
who knows what they might carry

strangers watching strangers we have become
growing more alienated from each other

me is you
you are me
for a while it felt  to be

bliss and shine
we were fine
sailing on life‘s endless sea

came some storms
ship got worms
wrecked on islands we can‘t see

you are you
I am me
lonely lovers they shall be

predators of the soul
strike at the unexpected hour
having stalked their prey
for days and weeks and months

suddenly
the sun looks wan
and you know
they are there
waiting

when they attack
it’s almost a relief
and yet
the struggle is
for life
or death

the beast of the jungle
is very strong

it is that other side
of your core
that rears its head
in dark moments

listening to sweet string music
played by street musicians
on both sides
     of the now peaceful
    Austrian-Hungarian border
in a landscape beautiful
     cultivated  and serene

the knowledge
that over many centuries
in this lovely landscape
the border was serious
and hundreds of thousands
lost their lives
in battles   on minefields
in persecutions

almost brings tears to my eyes
in helpless anger
over humankind‘s inhuman waste
of lives

unknown morning birdsongs
make me aware
I am not home

the current occupier of the white house
is unable to lead the battle against the pandemic
sends unmarked secret police
    to push peaceful protesters into unmarked vans
lets police use tear gas and rubber bullets
    to clear a place for a photo-op before a church
    into which he has never set foot
    holding up a bible which he most likely never read
spreads birther lies about possible opponents

tries to defund the US postal service
    because he is afraid of mail-in votes
attempts to destroy anti-pollution laws
    that improve people’s health
wants to abolish Medicaid
tries to celebrate a wishy-washy peace agreement
    between UAE and Israel as his success
    throwing the Palestinians under the bus

    & cetera   & cetera   & cetera

all he has managed to do in three-and-a-half years
is destroy many achievements of his predecessors
destabilize world diplomatic alliances
insult longtime allies and cuddle up to authoritarian leaders
killing 170,000 {updated 300.000] Americans due to his lack of leadership
sending tens of millions into unemployment and joblessness
and blame everybody else in the world for his blatant incompetence

today the USA have lost all credit
among the global community
and left a vacuum
    China and Russia are racing to fill

make America great again?
the best cynical joke of the past 120 years

governments who fear to hear
the voices of their citizens
are well advised
to mend their ways

times are
when words seem
to have lost
their power
to be spoken

they stubbornly refuse
   to form
on the same lips
from which they flowed
only a heartbeat
ago


difficult words
they have become

I love you

forgive me

I love you

there are moments
when in the daily busy-ness
questions slink into our thoughts
making their way slowly
through the distracting perma-noise
of our world

     what will there be
     after all obligations
     tasks  projects  jobs
     are no more

do we fall
     into a blissful black hole

find ourselves stymied
     by the absence
     of the pressure
     to accomplish

do we slowly fade away
     feeling un-needed
      
maybe  
      luckily
find our private obsession
that keeps us occupied
until we breathe our last

who knows

strands of hair on white linen
some smooth, some curly

           * *

Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy”
rarely fails
to shine his eyes
though he is not a man
    to shed tears easily

apparently
the harmonies
touch strong emotions
   spawn deep dreams

this time
the power of music
graces momentous acts

Europe is growing
75 million people are joining
decades of separation
are beginning to end

he looks at mediated images
of exultation across the latitudes
   fireworks  songs  speeches
   fears and hopes

and wishes
   wildly
      almost desperately
to believe
these are the right steps
in the right direction

             * *

to leave your allies
who helped you achieve
your often-boasted victories

unprotected

against their well-known
overpowering enemy
is abominable betrayal

a crime most foul!

THEY claim that their laws
protect the rights and lives
of women and children

that’s why they criminalize
women's rights over their bodies
children's rights for knowledge
     of their history, basic sexuality, etc.
     and a safe school environment
banning books on global warming
     and *** education from libraries

over 200 mass shootings with 264 deaths
in the first five months of this year
strongly suggest that information and
the right over your body
are not what’s killing people

yet THEY are unable to react
with tighter gun laws

     praying for the victims and their families
     does not prevent the next shooting

dangerous signs
of political and ethical impotence

poplar branches
embrace steel-blue clouds
so they would not
    driven by thunder and lightening
tear off their tender arms

the trees bend daringly
and you anticipate
to hear the hissing sound
of splintering wood

it does not happen
their postures grow ***** again
clouds disentangle themselves
and continue their wild chase
for other arms

survived once more

a whiff of green

promising to bring back
the god old coal mining jobs
drilling and fracking for oil
on federal land
loosening pollution standards

does not really jive
with sudden claims
to work for the purest air
and the best crystal clear water
of the whole world

yet another pathetic attempt
by a pathological liar
to make facts
fit his egomaniacal fictions

that whiff of fake green
does not smell good

right in the eye
of history
I walk
among the crowds
that taste
the absence of confinement

an unfamiliar space

between the band stands
on the avenues
where people
test a freedom
newly won
still strange
as yet in need
of daily reassurance

crossing and recrossing
the big gate
and the bridges
that for generations
connected nothing
marked divisions kept
   by guns and barbed wires
   and well-lit empty spaces
   between walls
   watched from towers

the new reunion
brings happy smiles for most
   quiet tears for some
new doubts for many
who  are uncertain
now
about their lives together
after decades
of separation

right in the eye
of history I walk

just now and then
a little bit afraid
that she might
rub her eye

just now

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

imagine a world
with no humans left

without
    man-made sounds
    street noise  airplanes
    laughter shouting fussing babies
    cars  radios TVs machines
    pop songs string orchestras
    
instead
     birdsongs  leaves blowing in the breeze
     sounds of rain  of springs and rivers
     deer splashing through a creek
     wild pigs snorting through the forest
     the sharp cry of an eagle
     owls hooting under the moon
     anmals rustling in the underbrush
     ivy decorating empty window frames

imagine
    all those poems
    nobody can read

at times it seems
your future might be little else
but treasured memories
from your receding past

open the door, look outward,
let some light shine in
and remember

your life goes forward
not back

my garden has a butterfly
each time I see it flutter by
I wonder why it is so shy
and does not want me to come nigh

I guess its ancestors detected
that many of them were collected
to end their lives pinned on a board
then eyed by beings they abhorred

as I prefer my animals alive
I love to see my butterfly
amidst all daily haste and strife
just beautifully flutter by

there is
a very fine line
between
news and nuisance

shadows of distant knowledge
   vaguely unfamiliar
eluding shapes
   never redeemed
crowd suddenly
   and make a whole

   instantly gone

          * *

as the biblical saying goes
we should love our neighbors
     like we love ourselves

looking at many people’s relations
with their neighbors
there sure is room for improvement

maybe we should love ourselves more

One for the NRA: Support your right to arm bears!

the  air-conditioned railjet takes me
with strangely whincing wheels
through winding tracks
along the mountains of my youth

clouds are hanging low
    after recent rainfalls
fog shrouds the forest hills
    in mystical silhouettes
rises slowly from the valleys
revealing an old castle here
     a younger hotel there

the next stop announces
     my birthplace
today's wet greenery passing by the window
makes me wonder what it was like
almost seventy years ago
     two years after the end of a war
     that destroyed many places on the globe
     and killed fifty million people
for my mother to give birth to the first
     of two sons
with a husband who
     at the age of 21
had just made his way
      not quite nine months before
escaping from a Soviet POW camp

     took him and a friend one month
     walking by night
          hiding by day
     through all of Poland
     to end up in a British field hospital
     from which they fled
           gratefully
     when they had regained some energy
     jumping trains from northern Germany
          to eastern Austria
     coming home just before Christmas 1946

and as my hometown disappears in fog and rain
I hear the muted noises of the high-tech train
     now on a steady downhill track
musing how easy my own life has been
no wars, dictatorships, catastrophes

how we are born into a world
so different from our parents‘
raised by their words and values
to make our way

Be careful what you wish for - you may get it.

my thoughts
   go wild
synapses flash
   in syncopated fright

left brain
   against the right

powers of reasons
battling fears
   unleashed
   from primal memories released
   by an unwatchful intellect
   relinquishing control
   in tired slippage
   at the end of day

I NEED YOU

I wish you all
most pleasant days
   no matter what the virus says

and that the year 2022
brings out the best
for me and you

      think positive, test negative

a better New Year to you all
reach for the skies, try not to fall !!

pain caused
by love
    and also death
not ever goes away

be honest

do you always
like yourself
   your partner
   all your friends
   your job

do you feel
at times
that you are quite abominable
   your friends are boring
   have turned into enemies
that your beloved has become
   an obligation rather than the joy of your life
and that your job is just
   a never ending treadmill

if all of the above applies
then it is time to take
   a step or two
   back from the everyday

look at yourself
as from a mountain top
and honestly acknowlegde
that you belong
   to the seven billion people
   on this globe

who struggle

weariness of the bones
often
entails that of the soul

each in itself
can be enough
to make you crave
a friendly touch
  a word of love

when both compound
and there is none
  of the above
your heart grows heavy
   as a leaden pound
sunshine goes pale
rain turns into a flood
your soul turns cold
   and shivers
with the absence
of a loving sound

I played with words
much like I fed the birds

    one morsel here
       another there

then suddenly became aware

they pulled together
     and made sense

have been a player ever since

seeing
my father waste away
is painful

not so much
because I may look through a window
into my own future

rather because
his dignity has become
so frail
dependent on body functions
he has trouble controlling

it was difficult enough
to live with aching joints & back
and only one third of heart power

after the stroke
breath is even shorter
eating has become a challenge
walking is impossible

no go at all
without the little pipe
that blows oxygen into your nose

he tells me
he appreciates my daily visits
I am glad

trying to cope with the pain I feel
watching his deconstruction
smiling through unshed tears
trying to encourage him

to get up to eat
and grip his spoon
firmly

        * *