reads

___

poetry

a stream of words and rattling trains of thoughts going just about nowhere

a

 

a restless wanderer and wonderer

 

a friend of company, a son of solitude

a complex question, a simple answer

a pragmatic dreamer

an admirer of change and uncertainty

a guerilla against blind conformity and standstill

a sucker for life

a lover of dim alleys and moondrunken piers

 

a traveler who missed all junctions

an invitee of the road

a mere coauthor of chance encounters

a partaker of beautiful struggles

a believer in meaningful contrasts

a flood of longings, passions, curiosity and Fernweh

a writer lost for words (who stole this line)

 
 

Crowded One Way Streets

 

Crowded one way streets are viciously viscous.

They’ve slowed me down for the longest time.

Their neon has left me colorblind.

Trudging them I feel rough and my guts turn sour with sorrow,

bitter with disbelief.

When bleak Tuesdays enact muzzles, blinders and haste,
dreams are deported to life autumns in standard coffins.

Now leafs are falling to splash colors over grey,
and the wind picks them up, foolheartedly spins them in a spiral dance,
and soon the wind picks up, hurls them into the baffled faces.

But they perish most unconsidered.
 

No one dares to stop.
No one cares to turn.

And yet the lord breeds his slaves to populate the dull streets.
And yet they smile just as widely as any escapee, who took a turn,

when they reach the corner.

 

We Met in the Moment

 

We met living in the moment, freely attached to nothing but loose ends. The melody of potentials swung in the air, guiding our frail steps in the halls of pressure. So lost we were in dreams that we forgot that the biggest dreams choose us. You showed up just in time to say goodbye, so now they say you came my way when you shouldn’t have, too late, too early. But I say fuck it, this moment is as good as any. Only when it hurts to risk everything, life will be raw in its imperfect purity. If you ask me, whether I mean it, I will tell you that I feel what I don’t know to be true. I will be here, where no place coincides with time to see you grin at me in madness one more time, wanting it against my will. Who’s to say that we don’t hold each other’s fate in our shivering hands? Between meaninglessness and a kiss the ways departing from here are thousandfold, but our moment will be remembered in a puddle of frozen tears, while we moved on like snowflakes in the January sun. I like to think that days can mean more than years and that storms align with fires to burn it all down until ashes dance in the air with nothing to lose. Leave a light on in the alley behind your desires, so that a stranger wandering the dark can find you. A spark will do really. May you punch, grin, bleed, fall, fly, run, blink, touch, scream, cry, suck, love, ache, dance, drink, sing, smash, hum, kick, miss, tumble, break, write, long, sink and swim until we meet again.

 

May

 

May's weather may wither

and so may all else,

but no day I overstay

without spinning us back thither,

to that day in may,

do you?

 

Overcast

 

And as long as shadows overcast my path, I know of a star in the skies above the voices in my head and solid ground neath my jaded soles. And hadn’t I longed for the shade the more I had lived in the bright shallow sunlight, just as much as I curse it now, lying in the dark? So tell me what’s it gonna be, or better yet don’t tell me. I keep living blind, but not blinded for I fear certainty more than coincidence, more than a street paved with the shards of shattered dreams, more than an unlikely desire. I keep my eyes open without looking for something, keep longing without knowing better, keep desiring without loving, loving without appreciating, learning without understanding, torn between a grin and a tear rolling into my wild heart's furnace. Melancholically smiling at my sadness, I reminisce about a lost paradise or faintly hope for another. Happiness flows through me like the blood in my veins, at times like a torrential river and at times losing itself in a thousand creeks. And every now and then I wonder, if I live life or if it is living me. But at the end of my days and nights I can feel nothing but gratitude without even knowing where to direct it.

______

shop

__

Like what you see? Get these and other images, digitally or in print:

________

latest

Show More

Nepal

Himalayas / Hiking Alone, Astray & Everestless

b/w

when inked in black & white

work on the ground & online

Spain

Barcelona / Revolution in the Air, But Where?