a diary note

this morning i watched a tree and some birds above the sea. sometimes i do not know if i talk to the world only or if the world talks to me. when i was a child the world talked to me all the time and in many ways. now i got older, experienced collisions,fusion, grief and suffering. and off and on pain takes me out of the flow of the universe, keeps me locked and crystallizing in an unwelcome process of individuation. i am still the same, branded by the sign of aries on my forehead, wanting, fighting, throwing tempers and tempests, more often than not walking in a cloud of fire, wounds  and violence. i learnt to live with myself better than some around. and now, getting older, i feel the ground on which i walk getting thinner and thinner, and i know that i thrive on pure imagination. of course there is no reliable path at all, and escape is no option but a waste of energy. so  i keep on walking and inbetween i try to listen to the trees and the birds and  the wind and the rain.

?

Ich solle ein Kochbuch mit Gedichten schreiben?

Lissabon

I feel these holes

in my astral shield.

the tides of time

make me sleepy.

but i walk

and see.

this city is beautiful

and strange.

i collect perfumes and smiles,

a scent of power and presence

my mind fills with ships

and poets

with sheer splendour, arrogant,

built on a past of wars

i walk on

meet faces

music

sensuously slurred words

which i cannot understand

just as i don't know

anything here

i listen to the wind

the Tejo slapping the banks

and i know, for each moment

we all pay with blood

Europe was raped

and she bore Minos

who kept a monster

in his maze

now the poor

need to find a thread

to help them out

i know

and you know

there is no garden

for the heart to rest

but for a short time

and time does not exist

for now

i sit in the sun

the coffee is good 

Adeus,Lisboa 

nachts

nachts

aufwachen

nachts

leise tritt

die einsamkeit

über die ufer

kein saxophon,

mein herz schlägt

in einen schwarzen raum,

verstrahlt

die federn

der toten engel

legen sich auf

mein gesicht

ich kann

nicht

mit dir

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