Good Night and Good Morning
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
new year's eve
out, at night, snow melting and dripping down from the roof, a tomcat on my lap. it is ok. at the end of the days i will die into sleep but trusting in life and awake reborn in the mornings. i will create my New Year....
relevance of a human
today, travelling. from Marrakech to Berlin where i found near to 20 cms of snow on my car. on board of the plane, reading Murakami,Colorless Tsukuri Tazaki and his years of pilgrimage.excellent. and dreaming, feeling, thinking. always , i try to run away from what is most important for me. an old feeling of fear of attachment, of experiences of loss and failure. always, before experiencing possible loss i tend to try and avoid it by running away. sitting in this plane an incredible feeling of warmth for another human being filled me again, as before, for a long time now, light, even happiness. feeling has no reason. i thought what i would feel if the plane dropped and crashed. no crying, not wasting time, no whimpering, just extremely intensified perception in slow-motion. what am i, what would be important in my last thoughts? well, though i have done some bad things and some good things, i cannot be very important, i will cause some short-term trouble for a few people depending on me in some parts. i will be forgotten easily, washed away like sand on the beach. maybe i am less than a fly in the universe , a fly carrying a spark of light, nothing to care for much. and i will have been nothing if i didn't fight for the only woman i ever loved as a human.i would regret this in the act of dying.
i think , well, i should think about my own relevance and about other humans needs and about what is essential in my life always as if i could die in a few
minutes.
“The habit of despair is worse than despair itself.”
A.Camus
“The habit of despair is worse than despair itself.”
A.Camus
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
at sea
the ocean promissing
far horizons, glittering,
and shimmering clouds
filled with the cries of gulls
i am at sea
again, out,
sailing to unknown
shores and marks
now, rolling
and rocking
with the waves
sleepily awake
aware of the weather
spray in my eyes
at the mercy of wind
a child of the universe
Monday, December 29, 2014
Temenos
e-motions can be stray dogs
on the road, hungry,
wild and out of the pack.
desire has wings,
it carries you everywhere,
it is there,
can never never be filled.
longing,
this can find peace.
it can.
loving
finds peace in itself.
it has no condition.
desire does not
find peace,
it fills all.
but cut one wing,
you will fall.
longing
is being
homesick.
there should be
a temenos
where hungry dogs
can be tamed
and fed
there should be orchards
and the song of birds.
a holy garden
in which the spring
of peace can be found.
but each garden
has to be built
in patience.
and should be
built and shared
together.
in new silence.
so we can listen
and hear the birds,
the spring,
smell the flowers,
breathe
and sleep
temenos: A sacred circle where one can be oneself without fear.
now i will sleep
last thoughts this night:
i have had and have executed enough de-construction and de-struction in all parts of life and thought.
what about some courage for con-struction.
even if to re-con-struct, is it bad?
all sandcastles will be taken down by the wind and washed away by the sea.
why do children keep on building them?
because the process is fun.
good night
very definitely i do misunderstand words, language, sentences.
it made me act last night like a drowning man, pushing all away in panic.
i hope the damage is not too bad but i fear it is.
i fear for both of us: even more not for me now.
i would so much like to be more gentle and kind.
there is only one person in the way:me.
Sunday, December 28, 2014
language, words, re-discovery
thoughts ... words are only alive because of the human using them. at the same time they have a difficult background meaning rooted in personal taste and experience, in history and in sociological context. but to analyze words coming from another human is to analyze this human. it is to find access to another human through language. and this is so much more difficult via written words than in spoken language and presence.
meaning: whatever i write will be misunderstood.
but then, i can re-discover myself in these misunderstandings.
a challenging process.
darkness
this is the dark time
of the year, when
black tides roll over
the moving land
these are the nights,
long and filled with rumbling
when the wind roars
in the chimneys
and blows through windows
and you shiver in bed
and wake in dense blackness
creeping into your soul
there is nobody
but blood drumming
in your ears
and listening is all
what remains.
it is, they say,
what stays alive
longest when you die.
there is nothing to feel
next to you,
not even in mind,
all is bleak.
and you wait
for a full moon
to shine on frozen worlds
snow softly falling
bringing silence
and the breath of roots
covered may green
in your soul.
though hope
appears so far
you know
a new life will rise
and then
you sleep
in domes of blue
letting all go.
you do not know
the promiss of mornings.
they do not disturb
the rhythm of such night,
of such sleep.
now in the deep
i am alone.
sand between my fingers: the firemen's shuffle
love is a word
words live
but it is too delicate
i spread my hand
and words turn to
sand and ashes
they will mingle
and green grass
will sprout up there
i trod on a spiderweb
and tripped over
my ankle hurts
tears are in my face
in my shoes,
they form a puddle
it looks clumsy
i talk to a door,
it is a real door,
i called a name
but the answer
was expected.
the door is a door,
shut,closed, bolted.
so i am a child
who has nobody to play.
from far away
i hear mantras
they do not reach
me, i see mandalas,
they sink into themselves,
cannot draw me in.
i see doctors
with pills against suffering,
liars, all i would need
is presence.
i see a substitute universe
filled with impossible promisses,
escape into eternal skies
of detached happiness.
why,machines can do that.
no lies and gurus needed.
a lobotomy will do.
best going with castration.
this my friends,
this,
is the secret of adult
life:
go,
be peaceful,
let things happen
to you,
let your blood
flow
until it seeps allover
the orderly floor
of hospitals
and nursing homes
and fcn,
don't make a fuss
about it
or anything.
be quiet,
be peaceful,
what does not come today
comes tomorrow.
maybe of course.
well, now getting desinfected,
should i work on it,
re-arrange intestines,
stitch up oozing brains
and wombs and hearts?
no, fear is the root
of sublimation,
evolution has its price,
it lives in palaces of wind
and spirits become
lonely ghosts
holding flowers
in withering hands
i can write
but my hand will
fall off like a leper's
unnoticed
dead words
aborted visions
driftwood
broken dreams
i cannot
love
alone.
sadness, solitude,
loneliness, my sisters
took me to the moon.
but tomorrow,
tomorrow i will listen
to the birds
singing the new day
i can die
again
later.
i can be
in a wheelchair
dumb and deaf
later.
the crows called me
black and noisy
they said
i am still a man
and i should
call my desire
through the evening skies
and sleep in the trees.
the sheep came
and they told me
come closer
we keep you warm.
the cats
walked up to me
they purred
and gave me comfort
dogs sniffed
at my hands
and put their
heads on my knee.
women came
and took off
their clothes
and mine.
i let them do
as they pleased
and i let them go.
friends came
to talk to me,
so what,
it does not change
my way.
i let them go.
i will not follow
their path.
i don't hold on,
they might make me
stumble more
when i am not aware
horses, yes horses
are free
but even they
come and kiss me.
i didn't try
with crocodiles,
vipers, giants,
fairies, but yes,
maybe monsters.
we being human
live in darkness
and have to feel
our way
walking in light
open eyed:
morituri te salutant.
Saturday, December 27, 2014
Thursday, December 25, 2014
Wednesday, December 24, 2014
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)