Sunday, May 31, 2015
Dalai Lama, present, quote
Past and future exist in relation to the
present, but if the present cannot be positioned, how can past and future be positioned?
oednis der blauen himmel
oednis der blauen himmel
blassblau und ohne versprechen
der weite himmel hier.
in meinem herz ein nagel,
rostverloren, abgebrochen
aus den tiefen, aus blut
alles erscheint brüchig,
du blätterst ab, und ich
gehe langsam in mich
hinein, verdichte und wachse
in langsamen ringen
eine neue haut, aus den
poren wachsen ginster,
disteln und thymian.
in meinen grenzen
blühen narzissen, und
pflug und egge ruhen.
hier ist die wildnis, ungezähmt.
hier bin ich stumm und singe.
another letter not to be read
nobody even dares, nobody can: to talk to me as if i was an insect ready for vivisection.
a non-identity,
strange and quite curious to take to pieces.
it doesn't feel very good and it is demoralizing.
for me, it is a pointless torture to suffer.
for the explorer a never ending work to be done, an effort to understand the mechanics of my universe.
i let it happen to a point, a sharp point as fine and as painful as the tip of a needle because i accept when we meet we must be true and naked.
i cannot truly love you as long as i cannot reach , am not given access and cannot understand the needs and drive, as long as no door opens between words and being.
though i may feel your essence and long for it, i may have to stay
away forever.
howsoever, i move out of these unstable orbits, the restless mind, the peaceful mind, out of quiet moonlit lakes and out of solitude, i move out and meet. i dare.
i only touch, hardly, then i may again pull my skin across my head, my ears, my eyes.
i am naked now, i even shed the skin, your voice comes deep in the inside of me,
it echoes and reverberates like a hoarse flute in a cavern mingling with the delightful shrieks of small bats flying allover.
you are not there to wipe away my loneliness,
and i do not come here to look for more of it.
i come not only to share the last rays of sun.
when you want nothing, you want too much.
i want to listen to the voice of silence,
deep into the shells from oceans unnamed,
now,
together with you.
and it may be necessary to shout to be heard,
at first, maybe.
or to whisper, so you have to take care.
only please, please do never think anymore that you are not unique to me .
stop this circle of paranoia, this spiral of mutual frustration , together with me.
i cannot breathe.
i feel no flow now.
i am an old man in the shadows of this night here, and this night
appears endless as all nights do by now.
i was not invited, i am alone, i am one, i am now, and there is not much time.
i am here wheresoever it is, at home with myself. this must be enough.
i have no other place to go.
and there is the sound of the sea.
it swallows all, nothing makes a difference.
memmingen to porto
between shadow and light
a~flight
i
this is how this world looks to me tonight,
oblique
what am i doing here.
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