will we ever get enough
be enough
for our greedy selves?

is there a saturation point
for our needs
our demands
to always have
more of what has made us
   feel so good
      or bad?

   you do not work enough
   you do not care enough
   you do not love me enough
   you do not speak enough
   you do not have enough

   not pay enough
   not sleep enough
   not say enough
   not learn enough

   not enough exercise
   not enough fun
   not enough suffering
   not enough dancing
      with the wind

yet we are able to
have enough
   drink
   food
   time
   trouble
   & cetera

enough is enough
we say

somehow
it never is

       * *

a glass of wine
   too many
can make us talk
may cut through layers
   of defenses
we’ve built around
   our core

and suddenly
we find the words
for thoughts we did not
even dare admit
   to ourselves

if we are lucky
it is the ones we love
   who listen to us
   in those moments
and understand
what has been growing
   deep inside
   unspoken
and gropes towards
whatever light
a slightly slurred voice
   may provide
in the wee hours of the morning
   speaking it all

I feel so uninspired

maybe because I’m tired
of all the nicely rhyming jingle
I’d rather wish that just a single
great thought or image would appear
of love or hate or lust or fear
unfold its plethora of riches

     no matter whether clowns or witches
     the sky  the stars the moon the sea
     and all the creatures there may be
     nature’s eternal universal charm
     the friendly dragon that means no harm
     fair maidens pining for their knights
     vampires haunting stormy nights
     fairies benign and leprechauns
     protecting all the loved ones

so that my lines be generally admired

alas, I still feel uninspired…

they are infinite in number

from our most frightening childhood dreams
to terrible nightmares in our later years
born from guilt, disillusionment, trauma, shame

they glare at us all of a sudden

apropos nothing they flash into our minds
disrupt what little peace we may have found
in our busy lives

when they arise from their sealed chambers
undo the locks we put on them
    to keep them quiet and remote

we have to face them
    eye to dreadful eye
    face to frightening face

then   gradually

    surprise

the closer our  stare
the more we are aware
that all these faces share
what we find hard to recognize

they look
    quite disconcertingly
like us

maybe we should
    rather than banish them away
acknowledge them  as what they are

the different facets of our selves
that we present to our world
from day to day

once upon a time
the presidents
of the self-declared beacon of democracy
did not feel the need
to bully everybody
with threats and insults

they led the nation
by shining democratic example

remember…?

a business person
     of somewhat dubious reputation
ran for president
promising to drain those swamps
we all believe we know exist
    around centers of power

he delivered on this promise
in his very special way

draining the swamps
     of all the alligators
that are now in his government

go figure

when your president
     old friend of yours
pardons you even before
you are legally sentenced
for assorted crimes

what do you call that?

talkshows and the yellow press
get excited in excess
over his shenanigans
that delight his faithful fans

rumors of these *** affairs
strong words for all macho players
     in the game of social thrones
texts with threatening undertones
     for minorities and women
     treating immigrants like demons

neither fans nor his opponents 
seem to notice the components
of the white house strategy

     throw them bones
     fodder for the yellow press

and while  they fight
clandestinely out of sight
works the Trumpian policy
 
money laundering   blatant lies
scolding allies   breaking ties
adoring foes   praising those
     usurpers of democracies
     experts in atrocities
slowly yet persistently
     undermine  civility  
     with foul language 
fill all courts with servile judges

court the aristocracies 
         of oil sheikdoms in the East
praising communist dictators
who have helped him build his towers

step by step he‘s leading US
from the groups of international powers
to an isolation desert
at the margins of the world
slogans we have rarely heard
over decades  
      now re-nourished
twittered with presidential flourish
make America small again

warning voices call in vain

no wonder the statue of liberty
is hiding her face in misery (*)

when the majority claims the need
to violently fight for its minority rights
something is rotten in this nation

a few thousand migrants
from run-down middle American nations
join together for a march
to reach the US border
and apply for immigrant visas

the tiny president
of the great United States
sends out the army to protect
the nation of 350 million
from this terrible threat

the master of fake
playing his power games
on the back of the most needy

dreams of April
turn into snow

swirling in the wind
under a leaden sky

growing dark
with lost memories

my world of phantasy is one
where I can save the universe
by the sheer power of my will

my force of thought
deflects the course of meteorites and comets
from collision with our globe

I make rain forests grow
   back to their former size
endangered species
   thrive and multiply

my will turns greedy politicians
into statesmen caring for the citizens
that voted them into their offices

all military hardware
becomes food
to feed the hungry of our world

wars are duels
fought between leaders
of contending states
no young soldiers die
for ambitions of their elders

cars only need hydrogen
recycling is the way of life
water and wind and plants
provide infinite energy

people I hurt
do understand
it was not done on purpose

and I can even tell my children
how much I love them

alas
my world of phantasy

remains just that

I release you, my beautiful and terrible
fear. I release you. You were my beloved
and hated twin, but now, I don't know you
as myself. I release you with all the
pain I would know at the death of
my children.

You are not my blood anymore.

I give you back to the soldiers
who burned down my home, beheaded my children,
***** and sodomized my brothers and sisters.
I give you back to those who stole the
food from our plates when we were starving.

I release you, fear, because you hold
these scenes in front of me and I was born
with eyes that can never close.

I release you
I release you
I release you
I release you

I am not afraid to be angry.
I am not afraid to rejoice.
I am not afraid to be black.
I am not afraid to be white.
I am not afraid to be hungry.
I am not afraid to be full.
I am not afraid to be hated.
I am not afraid to be loved.

to be loved, to be loved, fear.

Oh, you have choked me, but I gave you the leash.
You have gutted me but I gave you the knife.
You have devoured me, but I laid myself across the fire.

I take myself back, fear.
You are not my shadow any longer.
I won't hold you in my hands.
You can't live in my eyes, my ears, my voice
my belly, or in my heart my heart
my heart my heart

But come here, fear
I am alive and you are so afraid of dying.

holding you
in my arms

our bodies
straining
to jump
into each other’s skin

our hands
following
the contours
of strangely familiar shapes
exploring
caressing
tenderly

our eyes
   closed
have abdicated
   to other senses
shutting out reality

our lips
touching
gently
then hungry

our ears
listening inward
to body sounds
   beyond hearing
a symphony slowly swelling
   in the rhythm
   of our heartbeats
bursting
   into a sustained crescendo

feeling
us

     * *

the time your feelings
are only at your back
    and not in front of you
it may not be so wise
to start another tryst

emotions hanging in mid-air
suspended in a cosmic cold
might gravely chill
whatever the new fire

make your attempted new desire
dire

when we are young
we fill our days
with everything that comes along
seductive glances lead us on
pleasures delight our senses
we feel great and strong

then comes a time
when days are filled
with children  family  and work  
with barbecues perfectly grilled
the same old jokes told for a rhyme
and little else

transition to our later years
fills days with memories of earlier ones
life’s frost has whitened our hair
we may start thinking how we were
when blood was fresh in our bones
when we faced our future with all trust  no fears

by now we know what filling our days should hold
that our thinking may be clear and bold
provoking to the young and make them dare
think their own brilliant thoughts and be aware
that we have all the time the world can give
but none to spare

how does one end reigning
seventy years as Queen
of a former global colonial empire?

     elevated to the supreme icon
     of what's been right in Britain

to be sorely missed
after the most spectacular
of royal funerals has become history

when we feel strong emotion
we often have no words
that seem to fit our commotion
we coo and chirp like do the birds
   or moo like cattle in their herds
and only gradually we find
the words connecting soul and mind
so we can speak our feeling
rather than reeling
   speechless
in some unspoken power’s bind

* * *

there is
a very fine line
between
news and nuisance

there must be something
about the shifting shapes of flames
that keeps us riveted

visual spectacle
combined with purpose
   burn it up

and when it dies
the desire to have
   more of the same

feed in another log
watch eagerly
how it catches on
bursts into yellow reddish stars
   *******
burns bright for a while after
later glows darkly
and dies unless refreshed

a suggestive
   yet illusionary
image
   for our lives

fire magic

that lovely night
     when suddenly
you put your hand upon my knee
and later snuggled up under
my paw around your shoulder
a gentle flame sprang into life
from dormant embers

when afterward the two of us
were rocking to a softer tune
than music would us have
     (we never made it
      to the dancing floor)
the brilliance of your eyes
shone through your flying hair
     the flame leaped high
      and built a wall
      hard but transparent

completeness was
          within

that lovely night
when suddenly
you put your hand
   upon my knee
and later
snuggled up under
   my paw around your shoulder
a gentle flame sprang into life
   from dormant embers

when afterward the two of us
were rocking to a softer tune
than music would us have
   (we never made it
   to the dancing floor)
the brilliance of your eyes
shone through your flying hair
  the flame leaped high
  and built a wall
  hard but transparent

completeness was

   within

           * *

like icebergs
we keep floating
through our lives
   tops in the present
   bulky bodies in the past

what lies unseen below the surface
steadies our course

above
we take it as it comes
sun, rain, and snow & ice & wind

sometimes it melts us down a bit
but overall
it makes the bulks of our bodies grow

the new weighs heavily and
pushes what was new before
   downward
day by long day

until
in balmy southern waters
we slim down
and then
   one day
a final ache splits
upward from the bottom
through the consolidated matter
    of all years

and we drown

* *

O fog,
shrouding the busy highways
   softly
muting their resonant roar
   to distant growls

Unfurl your smooth fury,
crumple these cars,
shatter their frames across
   and beyond their concrete tracks
   that separate forests and hills
   and thicken the air
   with acrid smells
   from exhausted horsepowers.

Embrace them,
   O fog,
and guide their screeching tires
   over the embankment

roaring hearses
unreigned
by your moist arms

                           * * *

     &) Discovered recently among H. D.´s unpublished papers at Yale University Library, malevolent scholars take this poem as proof for the poet´s befogged imagination during some of her post-imagist periods. More englightened critics, though, point to the stunning topicality of H. D.´s mythopoetic mind in its accurate presentation of mankind´s archetypal struggle against nature. There is as yet insufficient biographical evidence that the mature H. D. possibly had a short but intensive attachment to the infant Ralph Nader, who later became head of the U. S. Environmental Protection Agency. – For serious information on the poet, see  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/H.D.

food
the requirement of life
comes in all shapes and tastes
   and smells and quantities

to the starving
   a bowl of rice
   the bottom barely covered
to the obese
   a five-course meal
   or piles of junk food
   in bright packaging

the starving
celebrate their meals
   in quiet concentration
each grain of rice
   is tasted carefully
   and chewed with care
extracting to the full its scant nourishment

the last one disappears
   with unheard sighs
when junk food and the five-course meal
   have long been finished

forbidding just one word
spoken in public
opens the First Amendment
to the thought police

I wish you all
most pleasant days
   no matter what the virus says

and thank you
for your kind support
     now over several years
of my assorted verse
which can at times be very terse
and maybe disappoint your expectations

it's just that recently more often
    instead that politicians soften
    their people's usual competing claims
there come these guy who obviously aim
to sow divisiveness for their own good
      something no politician should
and then blame others for their oversights

such blatant attitude my ire lights
I then may harshly
     maybe unpoetically
let my opinion on the topic fly
'cause I believe
that poets should be anything but shy
and throw the power of their words
behind good causes

so far, dissenting voices have been few
discussions I enjoy  and always do
engage in them if the exchange of views
strolls not too far from fact-based arguments

And between all the daily politics
I often try to stop the ticks
that measure calculable time
try to find words for things sublime
that go beyond the noises of the day
find meaning not in what
     but how they speak
in vivid images try to present
     life's clearing moments
that may lead readers to some peaks
     of insight  provoke comments
or make them think outside
     their usual frame of mind  
reflect upon their role within mankind

if I can work such wonders with my words
I am content and know
my lines are not just for the birds

I wish for us
the year twothousandtwentyone
fulfill at least some of the expectations
we all have  
           secretly or not
  after the lousiest year of our life
           to put it mildly

as a colleague from India
recently put it in his Christmas greetings

      think positive, test negative

A better New Year to you all
reach to the skies, avoid to fall !!

for those who come home full of doubts
that they are still the ones
who bring democracy to foreign lands
  
let it be said that their specific orders
should be followed   no guilt bestowed
on any of their bunch

they have sworn oaths and their allegiance
to do their duty as defined by politics

if you want to distribute blame
hit those who from their safe positions
in comfortable chairs

send soldiers to their death
     and have no clue
what devastation this can do

you sailed the seas
learned to survive
on water and on land

and when you met your Mary
you gladly put an end
to roving all the globe

and settled down
to toil the land
of ancient heritage

you always knew a story
you always had a smile

you also knew that life was hard
and never fair

you loved it anyway
and lived it fully
until the very last

Bon Voyage!

I think that we will meet again
at that Bass Corner of Eternity
   and have a blast!

               * *

the recent decisions of SCOTUS
show the mind of the previous POTUS
who’s stuck in the past
and cannot but blast
everyone who belittles his SCROTUS

find love come back
true soft lips miss
body wrap arms legs
kiss

seeing
my father waste away
is painful

not so much
because I may look through a window
into my own future

rather because
his dignity has become
so frail
dependent on body functions
he has trouble controlling

it was difficult enough
to live with aching joints & back
and only one third of heart power

after the stroke
breath is even shorter
eating has become a challenge
walking is impossible

no go at all
without the little pipe
that blows oxygen into your nose

he tells me
he appreciates my daily visits
I am glad

trying to cope with the pain I feel
watching his deconstruction
smiling through unshed tears
trying to encourage him

to get up to eat
and grip his spoon
firmly

        * *

there come the days
when frost falls on the soul
tells us to shore up prudently
against the times
of shorter days and darker nights

gather your sticks and bones
and keep them well
so they will burn
   with life and fire
and warm you in the evenings
until that moment when
    in flashing rainbows
you expire

                * *

one summer night
on the shores of Greece
I almost lost myself
coming home late
from a walk along the shore
   gingerly stepping
between
sleeping bundles in the sand

the wind was soft
the sea warm
the moon full
    and hanging low

I shed my clothes
and swam
   southwestward
toward the moon

soon I left
the shore behind
swimming toward the moon
propelled by energy
   an ache
   primeval
   leg and arm

I swam
   like I never swam before

feeling I could go on
forever
very strong
swimming toward the moon

the moon now covered
all the horizon
and I swam right into
her golden light
in silken waters
that caressed my limbs

Dionysos calling

tonight the full moon
looks incredibly beautiful

making us aware of
how little we know
about our universe

frisky freckles frolick
over his fair-featured face
like a flickering fresco
of furious lusting frenzy

a vibrant flirtatiousness
fills all her fibers
she falls into his arms with finesse
foreseeing fond fantasies

******* with fearsome delight
after failure of foreplay
the foman farts in fectasy
his font flushes fondly

though he almost faints in the feat
for his front has become
far more fragile
than in former feasts

    fewer the forays
    more frequent the flops
    further away
    desires formerly frequent

yet his feelings
still flow to flowering females
forever fertile and fragrant

therefore
he never thinks
of a final
farewell

I gather
Johann Wolfgang Goethe
   in his whimsy wisdom
was right to have his Heinrich Faust
   forego eternal bliss

   (and make a deal with the Alternative)

in his desire to arrest
a happy earthly moment

   transcend its evanescence
     in the flux of time

   give life to it
     by shape of word

and happily perish thereafter
   due to godly script

          * *

in hard times especially
those of us who can afford it
should be generous

unless we want to have
tanks in our streets again soon

it is sadly obvious
you don't care about
Corona, or your people,
the unemployed, the jobless
the thousands of Americans you killed
with your procrastinating non-approach
to the most dangerous epidemic of the century

so - just get lost!!

cannot use my fingers
as I used to

cannot move my hand
as I used to

cannot use my legs
as I used to

cannot walk the stairs
as I used to

guess I am

getting old

when we look sideways
at a subject/object of desire

do we see what is there
     or what we want to see

glances may blur the image
    distort the view
    reflect realities of our dreams

yet often they determine our actions

and thus

the rest of our lives

the world today truly has become
the global village once predicted
by McLuhan 50 years ago

it took three decades longer
than he had thought
but now we have
all real time developments at our fingertips

Trump talks to Putin and Duterte & cetera
and we know about it
right afterward thanks to his tweets
that land on our mobile phones

suicide bombs exploding
in Damascus Baghdad Gamboru Kabul
hit us on our social media right away

so does the news about a bus
that fell into a gorge
     all 65 passengers killed
     somewhere on the globe

or of the cat caught in a sewer pipe
rescued by these brave firemen

little of all of that
adds to our understanding of the universe
or might be relevant to our lives

a bit more positive reporting is in order

at best served as sensational
as the bad news
     that keeps us occupied
yet more important for our daily lives
than all this hype about
the danger and the devastation that
     possibly
     or not
may happen if
soandso does suchandsuch

at times I contemplate
if it is better to be out of touch
and not to care about the news
so very much

my love is like a glowing rose
that grows in an ebony chamber
forever there to stay alive
forever to remember

forever to remember there
how strong once burned a fire
defied the sun and blinded day
so high it dared aspire

some day a storm again
will blow through open doors
will stir the slumbering ember
and raise a flaming rose of love
that burns the ebony chamber

it seems that our earliest ancestors
already felt the need to advocate
existence of such beings
     larger than humans
     yet created in their image
they could adore  
     pray to  
          ask for help
in their hard life‘s exhausting chores

     Egyptian  Hindu  Greek
     Roman or Jewish  Mayan  Christian
     Islamic, Orthodox or Puritan

they all see leader figures
     mostly male
     and patriarchal hierarchies
as necessary for the survival
of a firm belief and their religious values

where there are many god(esse)s
earthlings in need are able to appeal
     and donate gifts
to more than one

     other religions offer fewer choices
     or none

yet all are born from the conviction
that we need help from higher sources
we have created ourselves

out of distrust
that we could master
life‘s challenges
on our own

the real question is not
    whether god exists
but whether you believe in one
no matter which denomination

do you believe
    that there is someone
    who commands your fate
    created everything
    makes earth move and the universe
    protects the good and punishes the bad
    and will reward you after death
        according to the life you led
    with everlasting bliss
         or fiery hell eternal

or do you rather think
    that it is our responsibility alone
    to live in peace  
         not war
    protect all life
        not only our own
    and not pretend
        that hunger  sickness
        lack of water and clean air
       are simply  natural  

if you are a believer
     remember all religions
     respect all forms of life

if you are prone to think it's humans' obligation
     remember those who do believe
     may also strive  to do their best

the common goal of all
should be the recognition
     that whatsoever god
     may have created us
     would not have wished
     for our abolition

colorful paint
on a blue canvas

    runs
    down
    in
   strings

crossing borders
   & languages
flowing into hearts
   & minds

   slowly
      at ease

the bottom end
   of the canvas
   is not
   the end
of the message
          *
          *
          

the world
is with me
on my way
through rolling hills
   green after spring rain

metallic evening light
casts into sharp relief
the contours of young leaves
and orchards blooming

a daring hare
   abruptly stops
      alarmed
by the approaching car
and in one
arching
jump
vanishes in the underbrush

the farmer neighbors
have taken to their beds already
when I nudge my engine smoothly
past their house
   and up the hill

to pick up my life
where I left it
   after breakfast

* *

where have conversations gone
long time passing
where have all our love words gone
long time ago
where have all our love words gone
mobiles took them, every one
when will we ever learn
I hope they will return

where have all the mobiles gone
long time passing
where have all the notebooks gone
long time ago
where have all the kindles gone
turned to tablets, every one
when will we ever learn
there will be no return

where have all the tablets gone
long time passing
where have all the smart phones gone
long time ago
where have all these gadgets gone
been recycled every one
never they will return
never they will return

where have all the users gone
long time passing
where have all the texters gone
long time ago
there lie all the facebooks slain
people try to speak again
when will we ever learn
hope they again can learn