27 11 2017

Take it out, this human heart! –

Acid running through the veins,

Word by word, each slamming hard –

Soar and puzzled, it beats in vain.


Turn them off, these grips of pain.

Prey to nauseating reason.

Shush you heart and use your brain.

Peace and comfort? No one needs them.



20 11 2017

Waltzing on the weightless ice,

Racing rage of rumbling reason:

Shingles sharp and thought concise,

Hazy thirst that can´t be seasoned.


Fever of the restless mind,

Wild, unchained, it raids ashore,

Whilst this quiet child inside

`s seeking for an exit door.


Singing gospels, see! – she flees:

Joyfully escapes her prison,

Blissfull smile across her lips,

Barefoot, numb, yet finally peacefull.


Tertius… scriptat – Aus der Naivitätensammlung

29 05 2017

Duobus litigantibus, tertius gaudet scriptat

The world goes round, we come and pass.

The grain of states runs up – and dies.

The first today – will kiss the dust.

Tomorrow’s truths – tomorrow’s lies…


Old idols fall – new ones rise high.

Saint Justice rules – yet can be bribed.

The two will never stop their fight –

The Third will watch. And will describe.


Futility, merry-go-round… – Aus der Naivitätensammlung

25 05 2017

Futility, merry-go-round,

Captivity of my days.

The price of the soul to pay

For all of the roads unfound.


For all of the doors unopened,

All of the problems unsolved

And those whom I never loved,

For promises ever broken.


The pendulum, heart inspiring

For heights I will ever achieve,

For those whom I’ll never leave –

Futility purifying!


If I were gone…

23 08 2015

If I were gone one chilly morning,

The coroner would find inside

Veins drenched in art, my brain unplugged

And butterflies instead of heart.

Batter me…

19 08 2015

Batter me, better me, bed with me,

Challenge me out of sleep,

Force me into a weep,

Reckless, courageous, deep

Sacredness of a blaspheme.


Fight with me, flout me and fly with me,

Shatter my slumbering heart,

Swinging from heavy to hard.

Let me invent you in art.

Burst me, my muse, to be.

I starved my soul…

17 08 2015

I starved my soul to mental anorexia,

Denying it food for months and months, and months

day by day,

peu à peu,

bit by bit.

Don´t take too much, sweet darling!

Don´t run that far,

be meek and petty,

finish the duty first

before you waste your time on creativity

of thought,

and hand

and feeling…

Don´t drift too far now

that you have found an anchor

to hold and to be held in bed at night.

There, there! No childish tears


take a handkerchief!

Don´t be pathetic! Now,

why can´t you shut your restless eyes


and rest a bit? – forever –

… Oh, soo loong slumber has it been!

How comes I know no mass, poor stupid thing I am?

If I should go for bond and steadiness,

Well then I should be steady, mind no further mental cause

but how to polster best that little holy world of matrimonial oyster-shell of joy.

Why can´t I be as others are?

The soul too restless, and the mind too greedy tear me

from what my sense of social roles demand from me,





multiple inside,

I´m full, but starving,

deaf, but hearing things

With cold numb fingertips I try to touch

here and there and over there

and end up

Being good at nothing.