Tales of being puréed.

At the far end of my shaft,
I fought a freckled spot of gloom.
Roaming up and down the blunder,
my grimace in original sin asunder.

I have this vision of a dune in the desert. Caressed by the wind, the dune moves forward. The sand blown off the top of the dune curls into the future. The weight of the dune keeps it in the present. The height of the dune represents its ability to change. Sand blown away from the top of higher dunes can reach farther into the future, than sand hurling from small dunes. Height offsets weight in the stretch for tomorrow. High, progressive dunes, are more agile, but can easily dissolve. Low, conservative dunes are more stable, but can easily loose traction.

Claire needs no boot camp. She is void of slack.
Tight as ever, she tires never. Power she pretends at no effort.

I shot up like a rabbit in despair, in the morning,
In the mirror I hoaxed myself, in a puddle.
Like a fly into a bulb I bumped into the shining,
On my bike, I was hunting deer, deep down, I was,
I ate like hungry, and hunger ate at me,
Later on I turned rosy like Flamingo in fertile mode,
I kissed ass like no animal, and turned silly like all animal,
I slid around obstacles like snake around confinements,
I worked like ox and lashed out like pregnant bitch,
I dug holes like dog, and spread wings like hawk,
I moved like cat and cut like crab,
I did all that, and still feel brainy, at dusk,
when I lick my wounds like bear, and realize,

To sing with birds, you have to sing like bird.

The November sky is an expression of the space where mundane realities meet with faraway glories. No other sky is as deceptive. No other sky is so close and so far.

Der November ist der Monat der Heimkehr, der Kälte und der Wärme zugleich. Der kalte Himmel glüht. Der November spielt mit den Zeugen des Jahres, die der Herbst von den Bäumen geholt hat. Im November legen sich kristallklare Schleier über das Gemüt, in die man hineinschweben und hinwegtreiben kann. Die Tage werden kürzer, der Schlaf wird länger und die Bewegungen langsamer. Auf kurzlebigen Windböen huschen Hoffnungen durch die Gassen und treiben unsere Sorgen vor sich her. Aus den Schornsteinen steigen die Zeichen der Liebe, Andacht und Gemeinschaft, die jeder zum Ende des Jahres sucht. Nur die mutigen Vögel bleiben hier, und nehmen unerschrocken den weißen Dezember als Kwartier.

Alexôme

Hands harpooned to the dusty ground,
he is a slave to his country´s wound.

Young, iranian, and laden with outdated myths,
he recoils from clerical juices.

2005

I shun the day. Every truth-seeker is a darkist and should have a fondness for the dark. Counsels who are daytime lovers cannot be true truth-seekers because they like the apparent, and since they themselves are living in the dark they are confined to reality.

sweetheart
sweet heart
heartless
less hurt.

I wish i could fly as high as far,
to be next to you like a star.

Hustling from situation to situation, you are
vainly promoting your short-breathed venation;

Chest in, chest out in a hurry, in your quest, you are
Subject to mild violence depriving you from you the best;

cool fishing son
lemon pepper son
sunburn and reckless one
come and save your last dish

raw meat such blood-sweet
mushy guts eat´m and sour ribs crack´m
your juicy soul pour out some
before they force and render thee
a dead and solemn one