Since that day I

old striped out tiger
in a young body

stand in another light
that undresses me, inexorably

untying the laces of my certainties
unbuttoning my habits and dreams

kissing open my eyes
to the beauty

of the abyss
and with a soft hand

taking off my immortality
The abyss isn't an abyss

if I fly and you
accept my hand: look at me

I'm looking at you
standing in another light

since that day when I was so happy
to be still alive - I am

after deep sighs, ready
to jump

It's better to dream

of the future and not fall --


into its abyss.

'Do you know where you are going to?
Do you like the things that life is showing you?'

the way it is, today
my own life today
softly singing on

my way to the next
crossing in the park
knowing where I'm going

left or right, always
back to friends
with whom I'm happy

Even if I don't participate
with the neighbours, all of Brussels
Berlin, Beyrouth, and Beijing

I still participate
but otherwise, living
close to myself

indoors "viewless"
today's life, softly
singing on my way

Even when I can't,

I want to participate --


Life doesn't wait, does it?

Everything changes,

people often slow it down --


with their traditions.

If It works, it can

be satisfying to glue --


something together.

All he could do was

hiss like a snake: Hizzizze-


rezshzmeezezzymuzsh.

Winter light eats the wide hill
ever barer, buzzards hover over

the headstones in the fertile soil
which for centuries bore olive trees

The souls are elsewhere, where Israel
takes them, the remains perish

in black cloths, to be the first people
to enter the new world on the day

the gate of mercy opens
That is what the dead have lived

and fought for, for that
they have won against the god of war

they have conquered the city, with the source
that breaks out of the earth

Jerusalem, where I suffer
from divided togetherness

Will children of my grandchildren
collect their bones, honour them and

grow olives here again
with sky-high twigs of peace?

We have ordered musicians
but can we pay them?
Give them some tea

.....Listen, the trees are falling
.....Lovely, the sound of axes
.....cutting down the orchard

.....The times are changing
.....Play! I want to celebrate!
.....You can leave after that

I don't know, I want to go
Why have we grown so old?
I remember everybody

was happy, without knowing
why, didn't we discuss it
time after time! It is over

We'll die anyway
while life goes on
as if we have never lived

The insights in my notebook
have become riddles, I remember
having had today's hazy thought

once before
but clearer, a revelation
that I immediately wrote down

and to catch it again
I've been walking for hours
sniffing for a trail

I walk along the niches-hut
of The Northern Lights through time
the sky turns orange again, the sea green

I keep flies out, I filter
the thoughts of the world
and stand still from time to time

to make sure
I am awake, ready -
my hand on pen and paper

In the evening the dunes are flat
and swampy, watery grey
bushes darken with dashes
of red and blue

Everything loses solidity
land looks like sea and sea seems to be land
in thin waves of twilight
water coagulates to shades of sand

Clouds resemble a massif
and moonless, mountains
seem to be a night-black sky
in which there are no stars

Ideas are lifelike
shapes do pass
Know what you attach to
then you are free

The waves rolling round,

in wild curls, steady and flat --


is the horizon.

At night, full trains standing still
between the erigeron
The grass **** wobbles a bit

The water sighs
little waves over the railway
Geese splash around

Bye Atlantis
Bye floating gardens
Thank you, all the best

We're flying out
the earth is open
Where to, where to?

Rombom, the sun will come
Zirconium sparkles, colours
expectation everywhere

It paints our desire
promises us love and happiness
- a fabulastic home

The river bulges

up to the edge, I'm afraid --


must see it myself.

The sky is blue and cold today
as if the atmosphere is thinner
and I can sense the void

under which the houses are small
and low, meaningless
fleeting and interchangeable

The old timber factory seems to be leaking
On the right side of the base
smoke rises from the building

as if a reversed draught
through the black chimney hole
absorbs, from distant stars, seas
of gigawatts of power for the city

The black hole swallows

starlings up and spews them out --


*******, pumping heart.

A trunk full of coins, countless
too many to use them in some way
We dispose of them properly

by putting them away for later
in a safe place, buried
under the ash in the middle of our town

We have enough, with the cattle
the pans and the women
who we capture across the border

The men, we trade
for jewelry and silver
that way we get rid of them

without having to ****
or to fear a rebellion
After all, life is hard enough already

It is an honour

for me to be there for you --


Until you sell me.

If only the little animal could
understand everything
no questions unanswered
when it dies

It does not live long enough
and flying is the time
of hundred wonderful times
of playing to die, the time

of asking again and again why
thus, this or that, and how
curiously cutting and pasting
knowledge, screaming

and throwing away angrily
lying down exhausted
and cry, but still
starting over once more

rearrange or discard
the half answers
and go looking
for new data

always ask another question
principally blind
full of confidence
that there will be an answer

Children ask questions,

and they learn a lot from that --


Just like adults do.

Believers give God
a portion of His abundance
not as a sacrifice, but as a person

who helps neighbours and fellow villagers
spares pack animals and allows butterflies
to flutter and who is not only sweet

to stuffed animals
but builds fountains
to water the noble horses

Unbelievers decide for themselves
whether they sell their yield
what they eat and what they share

God and greedy people too
choose themselves who benefits
what the henchmen get

for taking, and the front men
for hiding the abundance
in the heavenly clouds of Moneyland

Be responsible,

and legitimise nothing --


with a nice story.

The bell, an unexpected visit:
a gentleman who asks me

to come along, I have to
I am arrested

but only for further investigation
'Please don't make it any worse!'

At the office, I get a seat
'Please wait here, then it will

be fine, it takes time
You do understand, don't you?

Accuracy is required and you are
not the only one. I wish that was true!'



We get food, just enough
in our own stench, silently

arguing around
the growing puddle of *****

over the rotting mattresses
a soft bed of worms

from the breathtaking **** barrel
It seems we've been quietly forgotten

Sometimes someone whispers
if he dares and faces

the angry glances of fear
of caning, so as not to get crazy

Spring, time to go out!

Although winter is nicer:


not all those people!

With the inconveniences that
would embarrass me in company
I stay at home as much as possible

It has already happened
I just laugh about it
Being attractive isn't that great either
      
My friends keep admiring me
only my sister doesn't
call pretty what isn't pretty
      
She sees me
like I don't like
to see myself
      
There is nothing more
than this, but I
I want
      
so much
more
than this

After the garden

party: deflated balloons --


Colourful cherries.

Drinking tea in the rain
in the smell of rain
plain tea, plain rain
but, the two of us, full
of expectation: touch me
touch me, feel me

Lips, hands, all
of you, dear darling
touch me, touch me
nicer much nicer
than dreaming
dreaming the past

If you like you can
silently shout a stick
into the sky, climb
and climb higher, higher
sliding looser, looser
down and up

higher higher up
colours around the sun
diving deep into them
wallowing and wrapping yourself
and sparking sparks
from my hands

But stay with me
want me, want to
see and feel me
keep me whole
see me, feel me
touch me, touch me

Talking and joking,

with you, here, at my home, but --


it's not a visit!

World citizens run around
Busy parasites in the thin crust
of earth

kept at work by her
and digested in her. She sweats decay
from her pores, a delicious smell

healthy to live in, but intoxicating:
some think they are astronauts
on spaceship Earth

They race nearly 800,000 kilometres
per hour along with the sun, spinning
a pirouette at 1,670 kilometres

per hour. Say them goodbye
adieu, whatever that means
wish them a pleasant journey

to heaven
and upon arrival the realization
that they already were there

Life gives me a lot,

and I still have no idea --


who is the giver.

My perspective between the rusty leaves
is a dream house on the edge of the forest
picked up on the way, in the fall

Rich colours in the sun caress
the wooden skin flakes
of Mother Earth

and I am passing by
just a moment
a guest

I don't know how much

longer, but now, I'm with you --


now, I laugh with you.

The hilly country

gives us to drink from its lap --


heavenly nectar.

As long as we can we'll walk
in circles together
the youngest in the outer lane

acquire meters and learn a lot
are handed more and more
sticks stories where we are

heading a finish line
behind which no one needs
to run anymore hand in hand

we will walk on we will
live in peace we will all be
winners no relay race anymore

the youngest in the outer lane
grandma's on the inside bend
close to the black hole

As a baby, I

had a lot of fun falling --


into daddy's hands.

You snooped on my phone
but didn't discover any shame
no naked confessions
you searched in vain

for a double life
exciting intimacies
a corps in a wardrobe, secrets
between the lines

I have breathed in those
old statuses, for you
they are empty, boring rooms
dusty and cobwebbed

Keep them as memories
It doesn't touch me that you were
where you shouldn't be
I'm already somewhere else

The silverfish slips

away after exploring --


the floor, which is cleaned.

The bird-watcher hit

a pole in the meadow and --


now he lies in wait.

As a child I crawled invisibly
away in the lower house
under the veranda
to see the rats
potter among woodlice

I felt big and strong
I pressed my lips together
against the little weak creepy cushions
and let their hard tails
whip my Gulliver body

I liked being their Atlas
under the adult world
upon my shoulders
which I separated from the earth
to keep it as it is

Thousands of slaves of The Saviour run
bent over to a place to sit, belly to buttock
nose in the back, sections full of light pink
shoulders under the violet
shaved crowns

to open the brain
under sun and moon
to the Great Soul
and to gain self-knowledge
from the mirrors around you

the exchangeable bodies that
under the discipline of loneliness
among silent fellow sufferers
no longer can die
from everyday life's dangers

Everywhere you see yourself
among the hard faces
of armed guards
and you cling to
the changing of the light

the rustle of rain and
scents brought by the wind
"He laughs best who laughs last"
But what kind of laugh is that?
A laugh which is not shared...

Dozing, I vibrate

along with the world outside --


A leaf in the wind.

All the elements that we arrange
in the Periodic Table, the very first
bacteria and also we humans
are creators of the universe

In time and space we transform
the energy and co-write
the imperishable facts
on the edges of black holes

That information already existed
as Creator
giving it space and time
with a big bang

It's inconceivably
and inseparably both
energy and information
are aspects of each other

My mind doesn't get that
Even if in deep meditation
my consciousness unites
with all that exists, I am ignorant

Causes and effects,

implicated in something --


like the One and All.

My clothes are heavy, pack animals
with bags full of worries, I have them
washed when I sleep, dried
in the light of the moon, breathe

Water ripples in the dark
of the gorge between the mountains
here and there fireflies
wanting to ***, they dance

in front of me to the bay
the water is still warm
like when I was a child
with mama in the bath

her soft body
the sweet, lukewarm air
that I still can smell
in the light of the moon

I spread my arms and legs
like a peacock
and draw a circle around me
only my body is still here

The bellowing wind,

the seagulls and the surf: noise --


that still calms me down.

When my conscience cannot get out
afraid of fainting of myself
I have to settle for laws

the books of emergency dressing
for blood that I don't want to see
for a wound they should have prevented

If necessary, we fight it out
in court or with God
on our side, I have help

of lawyers and soldiers
priests assist me
the loudest word is up to me

If necessary, I will stop the world
until there are new laws
and then I'll start anew

if all goes well

So, the Minister

of Justice cycles to work:


no privileges.

At home, in the sun, I watch
the news intently, I study the photos
the parabola of a mortar
like a shooting star
and the grey ruins after the impact

There are cameras everywhere
I shiver from everything
I do and don't want to know
but I wouldn't know anything
if I didn't know

I read of people
who woke up and
ran to a cellar
their children crying
in the pale morning light

The wounded crawl over debris
scramble past the charred cars
An ambulance drives away
Daily corpses, daily news
with survivors

with a dry mouth
speechless, pale in the sun
in which I follow the news
with my sharp eyes
my cool heart

Oh dear, my best friends

are already making plans --


to make me happy.

She is a goddess,

wearing a long train of boys --


like a Golden Goose.