Poetic trash - lyrische Kritzeleien aus eigener Feder

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burning ice

we are not like you
we do not fear the dark

we are like a tiger
on a jungle path
as the monkeys cry out for
the antilopes to flee

we are alone
yet we see everything

we know things
you didn't tell us
or anybody

we feel cold in the summer
when you expect us to leave
our room

we feel the burn of your
judgemental stare
on the back of our necks

yet we don't even shrug

we have been doing this
for far too long

we know the aching exhaustion
in the limbs of an 80year old man

we are further up the mountain,
forced to see things from above

we pull away

we thrive in silence,

we suffer in silence,

we love silently.

we are at war, everyday.

We fear nothing,
except our own minds.
 

Malèna

You look at me
And I exist

You look at my lips,
You look at my breasts,
You look at my hips,
But you can't tell
The colour of my eyes

You look at me
And I feel your gaze

It burns my skin,
It reaches my neck,
It makes me shudder
And I feel shame

You look at me 
And think you own me

While I'm aware,
I show no signs
I just walk on,
I try to ignore
The feeling of dread

I am surrounded.

You look at me
And think I like it

But I'd rather been seen
Than looked at.
I'd rather flee
Than face you.

Let me be invisible.




 

untitled

I can feel you
right there
inside my chest

I can feel you.

I can feel you. 

When I focus
hard enough
I can almost 
feel your hand 
on the small of 
by back

But the second
I lean into it
You disappear
into thin air

And I draw wings
into the shadow
of your absence

 

the cheater

They say 
You can't cheat Death.
But I know better
Because I have.

The first time
my life had barely begun
when Death wrapped
the umbilical cord 
around my neck
and let my mother's
muscles do
the rest. 

They say 
You can't cheat Death.
But I know better
Because I have.

The second time
I stood on a bridge
ready to jump
and Death whispered
in my ear:
"Give up. Nobody wants you here."

They say 
You can't cheat Death.
But I know better
Because I have.

The third time
I came to my senses
staring at my white wrist
and Death was pressing
a blade against it.

They say 
You can't cheat Death.
But I know better
Because I have.

The fourth time
was only a
matter of seconds
for the amok driver
hit another girl
who just happened
to walk quicker.

They say 
You can't cheat Death.
But I know better
Because I have.

This time
might be the last.
For I know Death
keeps watch and
really, after all
his failed attempts,
I might be a 
good sport
and greet him
like a friend.




 

At the café

sitting at the café
a cappuccino
on the table
a book
in my lap

I look across and
see the empty seat
And suddenly
I remember
that I miss you
And I wish
you were here
with me.

But you don't 
want to be.

So, I drink
my cappuccino
and read
my book.


without you. 
 

 




 

The current state

heart?
- broken.

mind?
- off the rails but back on track.

body?
- way too healthy.

spirit?
- somewhere between rising readily and sinking steadily.

belief?
- what?

dreams?
- non-existent.

phantasies?
- as wild as ever!

plans?
- move on.




 

The Wall

There's a wall between the world and me
there's a wall between you and me
I hear what you say
And see what you do
But I don't feel it.

There's a wall between the world and me
there's a wall between you and me
You see me
But you don't.
You listen
But you're not hearing me.

There's a wall between the world and me
there's a wall between me and you
And I try to tear it down
But I'm too weak.

There's a wall between the world and myself
And it's made of protective glass
And self doubt
And guilt
And my worst fears.
And it keeps me 
Locked up with them.

There's a wall between the world and me
there's a wall between you and me
You can't reach me, you won't.

I'm trapped.
Here.
Alone.

All I can do
is watch
and sleep.

So, I sleep.
 

Connection


You need to
connect mentally
First
the rest comes
afterwards

what is the point
if you don't know
how they're feeling?

What is the point
if you have to explain
everything about yourself?

What is the point?

You need to
connect emotionally
first
the rest comes later

you can learn someone's body
pleasure can be taught
signs can be read and heard

connection cannot be learned.

It is rare.
So, cherish it.
Embrace it.

Feel it.

It cannot be controlled.
It's like air,
like water,
like the sun.

It's there or
it simply isn't.

You need to connect
mentally
first.

Of the sun


At first, you are just nice.
You're polite but you sense my wall,
so you back off.
After the incident, I thank you
and I open up
just the tiniest bit.
Shyly blossoming.

But I keep my thorns intact.
You notice and you hesitate.
Unsure if I welcome you.
I do.
I lower my defences.
Slowly, carefully,
You're drawing closer.
I let you.
And I open up a bit more each day.
You see it and you understand
that this is something I don't do
for everyone.

Since then you look at me
as if I'm a painting
as if I'm magic.

But I'm not.
I'm a living creature.
With faults.
With issues
and scars.

So, I try to keep you
at a distance.
Finding more and more
each day
that I don't want to.
I want to trust you.
I want to let you in.
I want to believe.

I just don't know how.

But I feel your warmth.
And it doesn't hurt.
Not yet.

So, I'm stuck.
You pull me 
into your orbit.
You hold me
immobile
without touching me.

And I can feel myself
slowly, gently
leaning into your direction

like a plant
towards the sun.

 


 

The cycle


the pain
you feel
will eat you
alive

it will start as barely
an itch
in the back of your mind
but from there it will spread
like a wildfire

and like fire
it never stops
it destroys everything in its wake
always hungry for more

you will push yourself
for the extra money
for the better job
for respect and even love
but that love will be poisoned
and that respect won't feel like nourishment
but like betrayal lurking around
the next corner

and before you know it
your entire being
will be scorched
you won't feel a thing
because your insides will be ashes

the soft leafs around
your lungs will turn black and
all that's left is burnt soil
that has nothing left to give

but the pain won't stop
it will drive you to hunt for more
even though you haven't felt
hungry for days now

that's when it will force its way
out of your throat,
into your fists
to attack the next person,
to infect the next organism, so it won't die

and when you stand above
that raped woman,
that smacked child,
that dead body,
you'll still feel nothing


 and the pain begins anew.


 

As a child I didn't get it
why wear shoes that 
hurt my feet?
I might as well walk
barefoot

I did
and the asphalt ripped
my skin and tore it open

Since then
I wear ballerinas
and high heels
and pumps
and trainers
but most of all
flip flops
they only break the skin
between your toes

They don't 
bloody your soles
or rub away at 
your heel

Since then
I understand
why women go
for their second choice
and why men
just go for sex

Because the real thing 
hurts the most.

White dove, black dove

white dove, oh,
white dove
where've you been?

you look starved and thin

white dove, oh,
white dove
what happened to you?

you were once beautiful and true

white dove, oh,
white dove
your feathers turning black
and people ignore you at best
and kick you off at worst

don't they see?
don't they see?

white dove, oh,
white dove
they cut your wings
and fed you poison
yet wonder why you're sick

white dove, no,
black dove
you are cursed
with beak so sharp
and eyes so dull

black dove, oh,
black dove
what did we do to you?

coffee

coffee is
salvation on a cold
January morning

coffee wipes away
the clingy fatigue
and insecurities

coffee dissolves
the morning misery
the nagging nightmares 
it lifts my lids and
burns the blockades
in my head

coffee is
the oil and petrol
that keeps my motor
heart going

and my auto 
mind whirling

it keeps the words
coming.

It was about 5 a.m. on a Tuesday
When I came around
My head was blue, my veins brand new
Yet almost popping, heart nearly stopping
From the lack of oxygen

Most come out screaming
So cruelly deprived off the familiar warmth
I came out silent
Already choking on life before it had begun

But then I took my first breath
And I survived
And my mother asked the midwife:
"Is it a girl?" 

I guess she should've known
That I was gonna be a bitch.

on the train

I'm on a train
writing a poem

And people see
but they don't

I'm thinking hard on 
the words
try them out (loud)
on my tongue

And people hear
but they don't

Suddenly - pain!
a memory, old,
yet so powerful
rips through me
like lightning
slashing me in two

And people notice
but they don't

I created something
inside
for you

It was warm
and soft
and tender

It was fragile
it was pure
for you

"Let me see it once it's finished"
you said.
"Not yet, not yet"

So I let it grow
until it was not
fragile anymore
but strong
irrevocable

When I showed it 
to you (proudly)
you looked away.

It was too much
you said

Then you left.
And it stayed
inside me

But it's broken.
And now the sharp edges
pierce me with every
breath 
I take
 

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