Two poems

earned short circles
short cuts
hair cuts
and the looops not suggested anymore
are the obscene flair
of focusless wilderness
originized now
in look-back feedback
grungelized
recycled
concrete
grabitude


you can object
anything
i would not resist
just the words and mimes
pass me through
and i will continue
looking at you


please forgive
that other times
i will be forced
to hesitate
when both we hang in the air
wondering front to front
palm to palm
seeing the other
and slip through into


some other time
we stare at clouds
forget everthing
that´s nearer than them
we´d loose ourselves
and panic did show
in hysterical fun
of the wideness and thrill
our embracement would hold.

another now
we would choose our selves
just not frantic but slow
each a multitude and still one

switching strong will
and forgetting untold
the cloud still wide
and arousing the look



- - - - - - - -



flying sources



i´m reading a book
it takes quite long to read it
thin little book
somebody wondered

the woman who wrote
didn´t take it too bloomy
not immersing with fogs
like it would happen to me
if i´d long to close my eyes
which sometimes i love
flying up like a dove
that is playing the cello
then i might yell
“o, you dove
i know you´ll return
with the tones
of the sun burning
stronger the higher
and wider you fly
--- only to know
what that´s worth
you come down and go
for a walk
and to play a few notes.”

but that book is a wake dream
the more it awakens
the more it´s a dream
made of streaming moving webs
flashing up and relating
to the someone
who becomes one
another
time
and again
all along
wake-streaming mumbling
“o, yes, i can see” ---
sometimes noting
the sources of this phrase
as changing
and moving
and digging
and trying
and some, at times,
flying
with a picture in mind
and no picture in mind ...


.

(sept 2009)

.

… and the other lonesome people

Way far too long

While slipping away from beforehand accused enemies

Used entities

To effect however selftought

Fraud dynamite silk pillows

Under one´s own head behalf

Of sighing tales

Piled up

And the letters hooking in

Head over heals then

Patterns of illustrous greed

Vectored in no direction

A fillup for space found.


After all initions

Visualized coolapse

Talks about gates

And wound up grace

To balls of yawn

Spinning multiversed laps

Cored not yet


Strictly self though.



Counting the figures passing by,
obscurities on demand gather conference style
Orders alike all orders ever given from who to where.

There´s these decisions…
Rawing distinguishing
Yeho,
Fellow citizens boys and girls men and women
No dare laming the speeds of the surround.
Put in and held back
Melange a troi
Looking into three eyes.
Towards meaningfullnessmenthood
As staying by one´s own two

Zip and sew

An old saying only:
All that´s open deserves to get caught, naughty friend.
A flash and
Wambam
Thank you mam, man
Ouff, come withoff
No, me getting almost crazy, see?

Right
The little mirrors show balls of water.

.

(Jan 2005)

.

The Blind Song

As the stone didn´t manage to burn

For the warden broke the bar on this neck

Thoughtdriven to tears

Cellophane honey

I´m carving your skin


Forged a lifeless frame

Once upon a time

Lisle stockings in my brain

Glowing husks – bashing my teeth

Doubling each hit in neglection
Puffing free and demerge
From the air they unfold
And the void comes undone
Lock you up look you down
See the eyebrows are burning
You told me once
But I would not hear
Hence you´re smiling so bright
That the crowds are disturbed
With the sunset´s decline
Your eyes unfurl
Like the velvet lips
When space becomes time
I can´t lick them all
So I play trying
What would stick out me man
What would stick out my hand

While a while the jaw sinks down







With this high building

Scraping your foot

I can´t cut the beauty off my heart

Not on the screen

And not on the line

And not any cyber

Will kill this desire

And when it transforms

It feels so near

But when the rules strike
I´m living the time
That surrounds me like wads
I don´t feel our touch
As I´m making my day
How would you reject
My strange words and my voice
When I´m weak from a trip
I should not write at all
I´m not sure you exist
Or was it a dream
Or did we forget
Time and again
You will feel my skin
You felt his worthwhile
We´re flying through fogs



we´re flying through fogs




That´s for you and for me


We can´t say what we want

We can´t talk what we want

Cause history is strong

And caught you up whole


But we would not care
As we´re changing it both
We´re changing it both
We´re changing it both
This is our yearn
These are our lips
This is our skin
This is our sex
And our liquids within

You would not lose strenght
No matter how weakweak
I would not lose strenght
No matter how weakweak

These are our hands
Like the moaning voice
These are our teeth
Like the moaning voice
These are our eyes
They´re not here at all
Like the moaning voice



Not here at all


Like the blind song

This is the blind song

I feel your blind song


And I would not cry
Cause it´s up to you
And I am not helpless
Nor will I grow blind
More than I´m now.


Why,

Believe

That I feel your blind song




(Oct 2008)