Another year of poems, and i'm not sure if they're getting better. more serious maybe. Last year was about the hof, and being in this new world, and trains, from here to there and back again. This year, or at least the latter half of it that i can comment on from memory, has been about the forest. These poems are pretty much arranged back to front, the first poem being the most recently written. The last poem is really a faded snapshot of a period this year that i didnt enjoy. The poem is perhaps the best thing to come of it. However in it I see what has become a compulsion to write about the countryside. It is nothing more than a desire to describe this place, and to give in a small way to anyone that cares to listen, how it makes me feel. It makes me feel like a full, and bulging balloon. Like a courting pigeon with a puffed breast strutting through paradise. I cannot believe my luck in having found this forest and in being totally free to explore it all alone. In this perfect loneliness i talk to all of you, and i wish you were here to see it with me. Or i take this loneliness as a blessing and i'm with the crows and other shy friends that write to me in the dirt. The winter is rolling in, and all I know is that things are changing. I won't be able to keep my fire lit, and the single paned windows will suck my room dry. The cold will get into my bones, ill jangle along to the toilet where the water still runs, half man, half icicle, and i'll jangle back again to thaw off, pressed agaisnt the glass of the oven. Nothing will dry! I will shower once a week, i'll forget how to talk, i'll smile sparingly to conserve energy. And then when the fresh leaves spring from beach trees, and you all come to see me, you'll see what a pale imitation this all is in light of the forest. I'll be reborn, having learned again the essence of seasonal myths, and will smile giddily at purple fir cones, erect on their branches, in ecstasy under the checkered rays of the sun. Until then..
Birthday poem
28 in the wg
UFO out the window
We are not alone!
Pigeons crows and kittyhawks
25 pushups by the mouse traps
Put on my birthday suit for a scalding hot shower
For the woman in me
2 in 1 Sport dusche for the man
Shoes shined
Chin tanning
You can see me from space
Nothing better!
A walk on tempelehofer
Nothing better!!
Man cycles past with a stogie strutting from his lips
Dogs rolling in shit
Making it look so good
I might join them
And the wind sock’s got a chub on
Head long into it
It’s pulling tears from my eyes
That rollerblader makes it look like the tarmacs moving
Whilst she stands still
Don’t imagine it
I’ll tell you
It’s not all sunshine in this world
Not now
Not ever
But I’ll nurture my piece of it
Have to
Can’t not
In light of darkness
Happiness is the small resistance
Gravity is the weakest force
Honesty is a sword
And sincerity is a shield
Don’t let me spell it out for you
Tell me if I’m teaching you to suck eggs
Have a birthday
Treat yourself
-
Love permeates
It oozes through you
And love reciprocated
The sweetest kind
Is soaked up
Like a sponge pushed hard against a bowlful
And slowly let go
-
If you’re looking for god
Look in the lightning
Now as then
Blooming faster than the eye can see across the clouds
Nothing happens in a concrete box
But outside where the trees sway,
And confection is lamp lit in the flash
The fire breathes heavy in fresh water and casts it wildly around
Until the ribs of trees remain glowing thirstily in the rain
-
A thousand leaves fall
And put the forest to bed
The field lays fallow
Beneath clover
And the wild boar wallow in it
Nothing turns grey
Even the dead stems of grasses pull hues of golden blue from the light
And what’s left of the beeches coat
Clings to it
Against the wind
When will the last leaf fall?
Green still, orange and yellow
Cascading down branches fluorescent with moss
A breeze urges a single leaf onto its tide
And it takes the stage
It flips along the air, dancing to thin birdsong
On its way to greet the earth below
To be played by my boots
The belly of the beast is rumbling down there
Never sated
Forever hungry
Stay there I say
Come no closer
-
ill ill ill
push through my bones
So my marrow sloshes around
Like the sand in an hourglass
My head
If it is still my head
Flops forward and backward
Like the natwest bulldog
-
A bowl
Round like the earth
And made from it
Is
Already filled
And impossible to empty
-
Wind come find me on The Rennsteig
As the horses lead each other by the tail
Dare me to push on against you and I will
The bay and black mare stand amongst
Their freshly mown lawn,
The trees cling to their green leaves
The crickets ring their bells
Tonight among thousands
As if nothing ever changes
-
I’ve had to stop and look
At that slope
mouth spilling over
The buzzard circling over its brow
Until it stops where it chooses
Letting the wind blow over its still wings
Keeping it afloat
And motionless
The wind and the bird
And the trees and the shrub and the grass
Blowing in it too
A westerly
Dragging the manes of the horses
And its fingers across the heads of wheat tops like the velvet on piano cushions
It pushes leaves against each other in the tree tops
And the cascade
Can you hear the individual leaf rustle among the thousands
The winds instrument playing to you
And there the lone fox is hopping
Towards the young broilers adjusting in the barns endless night
Soon to be strutting around their cage
Behind the counter
For the hawk and fox
Who don’t pay for their food yet have expensive taste
Bums for the finer things in life
-
I slide the cup of my foot
Onto your cool calf
And roll it over and back again
To soak up the cold side of your pillow
And my knees thigh rests below your cheeks
As the fan sings
To the heat of the night
-
Panna Cotta fields
Yellow top and blue stems
Poppys red in purple fields of wheat
Uckermarkt fields
Bachelors button, chicory ultramarine
On a navy sweater
‘Blau Blumen sind normalerweise giftig’
Ist das wahr?
‘Isst du!’
He says over and over
The bosses son
Grass and daisy’s
She collects a light bouquet for Mutti
‘Tot tot tot total langweilig!’
Just grasses and yarrow
Thin, and of course perfect
Unexpectedly lacking in colour
Held tight to save the arrangement
Because a bouquet must be carried
Held from the moment it’s picked
To the moment it’s given
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