you call me when you are stoned
even though you know
how i feel about that
you call me and you say
hearing you laugh
carries me through time
back to the place where my life really is
i say
but when you come visit you know
you can't smoke
you say
of course
i want to learn that anyway

i sigh

she sings the way i know
going her way
what can i say
words can pull it together now
not my words
anyway
they say that love doesn't go away
it's the people who walk away

never entirely sure why we say and do the things we say and do.
it could be clarity in your mind or hidden jealousy, crouching tigers, flying dragons, life to live by.
i understand now that you stopped interpreting. stopped dreaming. stopped weaving visions into the threads of unfolding life.
stories untold. fairy tales ignored. zebras and moonbeams and a circus mind that is running around.
you stopped believing. there is no faith, only resignation. diving into the unknown. without a safety net. just like that. free fall.
love couldn't stop you. you said, it is impossible. you have never resignated before. i have. i have resignated. we can't be together.

she looks at me in distress. that's what he said to me. he doesn't feel that he is worth being loved. what has ever been worth being loved? we don't know anything about that. love is because of the mysteries it unfolds. and enfolds.

we are lying in the gras. it is dry from the hot summer sun but the rolling meadow looks soft like elven-grass and the trees stand tall and hum in the soft breeze their summer songs. we are both topless. she plays with a blade of grass, re-drawing the contures of my body, tickeling my breasts, gazing into the sparsely clouded skies, reading me a book.
strange she says, with you i don't feel the absence of a man. i feel that it is completely and utterly okay, sufficient, i am just happy the way it is. i smile. is that a compliment? or does that mean i have more man-qualities than your other friends? no, no she says. you are just a woman that makes me happy the way it is.
we roll on our stomachs. somebody asks for a lighter. she squints her eyes and talks about life. about nothing in particular. about her friend. her laughter bursts out like colors splashing agains a white wall. her heart-rhythm is strong and beautiful. a dance to be involved in. to listen to. to feel embraced.
i lie on her stomach. her skin is smooth and light. her beautiful curves and the way she gives me a light but warm kiss on the mouth. she is like a sister to me. oh sister, when i come, to lie at your side.
she is de-tangeling herself softly and slowly from the tapestry of her past. her safety. her parents. her upbringing. ready to killing it softly with her song.
she is coming on strong.
i am either the best friend or just a sexual sidekick to men she says, pouting. i think i am not mysterious enough. i smile. i know these exact words. she is more mysterious than she probably will ever know. the layers of her heart and soul, the intricate complexity of her spirit, her feeling, her thinking, her moving in space and time. her smile. her embrace, when she holds me while i cry. the book she bought me just because. the things she says and doesn't say. her bare feet in the sun.

he will come. i say and i hope it is true for the both of us.

meanwhile i lean back and enjoy a perfect summerbreezeday at the lake. with her. naked. in body and soul. freely swinging, back and forth.

passing by

more and more often I have these flashes of images - you walking by and us not recognizing each other at all anymore. in the way we did. when we loved. further and further away you appear from the inside.
i would see you with your wife or your kid even and we'd just pass.

aren't you happy now you ask, we both got what we wanted.

you are married
and i am in Berlin.

ich radelte
und die musik in der nacht brachte bilder
janis joplin
santa monica blvd at night. envisioning you in your car, coming to a halt. asking me to get in. i felt like your bride. my heart was pounding. heavy. quivering.
but no tears yet no well.
dry.
other images in layers
i am sitting at the tree in berlin
at the spree
i see you walk in with your wife your girl on your arm
and you would walk by and we would
never meet
because it was a short time window that had opened
for us to meet
usually i was aware of the fact
that i would still pulsate
in excitement upon
seeing you
entering a room or a party
but that night
was different.
i knew, simply knew,
that we would have never talked.

time differences and spaces
making bubbles and protecting what is
it s good that way
it s just that i am watching
from the outside
i never had the chance to access
that well
of forgetting.

listen as the wind blows
crows disappear at night into the black
black in black
like my hopes.

i have the strong feeling of being a stranger in my own life.
my room feels good and homey and home, but i am a stranger in my own life. i am only visiting.

spa e

the vastness of the other world is consuming my music
or is it just one point, containing it all
the seed to let it grow
the tree into the spiritual world
a ladder to the heavens
a ladder to sweat and hard work
every day
a little bit of will

forget about discipline
it is in the steps
the getting up after falling down
like children
when they learn how to walk they say.

miles davis reveals in a silent way
i am a bit pouty
something my dad said upsetting me

the world has many more problems other than just that
you know it makes me think
the vastness
and the things we do

do they have any value
at all? when they feel good....
i mean, that doesnt' say anything after all.

it s not really a problem. it just stirs.
i cannot say anything about it.
the rain said it all.
early morning murmuring outside my balcony.

your wisdom is beyond my comprehension.
but it is beautiful.

hope sandoval

the sun is softly crawling through my open balcony door. red, black and white. hope sandoval sings "for the rest of your life" and I fade into blue.
it is, it is, it is a new life.
I look like a buddhist nun almost. hair shaved off. my blue red scarf from India is sighing, hugging my curves.
I am not, I am not, I am not caught in your webs, no, no. There is a big world out there, I know that. My heart has left seedlings all over and blood and velvet tears.
Dreams come to haunt me with horrifying images. Your smile is a faint consolation. I know that she bares your child. Your shield. Your life. She is your wife.
Dead men tell no tales, I hear. Oh, hope, can you let me fly, fly, fly?
I am not fully standing now. Don t really feel the ground. So I must be floating on the wings of now.
Oh bluebird, she is gone. She is gone, so far, to places we can t reach, no, no.
I hang my head and cry to the bandoneon wailing. To the violin crying. To the banjo tickeling my wonders.

I will not think about this now. I will go play with the sun crawling over my floor. Letting the red curtains caress my cheeks, dry them, let the shell tell me of shores unreached and unfathomable. Let the black girl with the curly hair stare into the unknown. There is nothing, nothing, only now.

Ah, hope. Let the trees blossom and spruce. Let me sink into the earth to find roots. It will be summer soon. Straighten your forehead. Straighten your heart. Stretch, stretch. There will be wings.

my heart is drowning
but it is alright that you go
i would never want to hold you back
it's just hard to let it all go
i see there is also life coming
but i am at the dark side of the moon
my afternoons drift by slowly
like a sailing boat in still air
i wish i could hug and kiss you like i used to
when you were like my child or little brother
when we were lying under the starry night skies
talking life and death
now you are the pioneer to venture into
what is
after the passage of death.

That we may ever live as friends

(Broken Feathers by The curse ov dialect)

There is no fading, no disappearing
You are always there, faint, like a notion, like a beat that pulses through my blood.
The concept of you not being here on the physical plane is hard to grasp. You were always there. An email away. A phonecall away. And calling you did.
So many people miss you.
My head started hurting after the ostheopathy treatments. Like little blades stabbing in the back and top of my skull.
Listening to a Schubert Orchestra piece tears started streaming like the waterfall that took your life. That you gave your life to.
I went through all the motions one more time. The images of you falling, they are tucked away, carefully, somewhere in the dark spaces inside my soul. At the dark side of the moon.
The moment of trying to bring you back to life and seeing you look increasingly dead. It was merely your body then.

And I was too panicked to even pray or rest or breathe next to your body that you had left. I just crawled through the jungle in shock, calling for help.

I don't know if I can ever forget. I will have to retrieve the lost moments. I will have to forge new ways to understand.
Spiritual gold out of dark blue pain matter.

That we may ever live as friends.

max paul maria

pale moon by max paul maria

i wake up and i am so mad at you. i look in the mirror my eyes are deep holes and everything is distorted.
lets just sing and drink and smoke and forget about everything. dance into the evening.

you are lying there just waiting to DIE!
are you kidding me?
it makes me mad.
you say you envy Joseph.
we all wish we had some more time with him. Also, he meditated. you just breathe and give yourself to your depression. i wanna shake you. fuck.
it's just not my place i guess but i am sending you this in my thoughts: get up and make the most of it. man.
i know you have tried all this time. but don't give up now. don't give up.

the things we do to each other
the things that have been
i am beyond comprehension
i can't cast blame

i am one of them
how can people do this?
i am one of us

strange how i can enjoy
the luxuries of the good life
or so they call it
and yet i would prefer
any day of the week
to live

with the poor.

seeds

forever i have to carry
this seed
buried deep in the deserts
of my soul

full of possibilities
(- the lake! the spirits of wind dancing on the lake
silence shared beneath lanterns! forget the waterfalls! and their eternal song,-)
that my tears cannot bring to life
even if i let it rain hard, -
there is too much salt

sand forever, only stars
- remember that drawing well, remember! -
the snake wrapped
neatly snug around his
ankle
- so you can recognize the place! -

like a lightning only
so he could leave

- write me, in case you meet him
write me because he tamed me -

This Little Prince.

she sings i may know the words and it takes me on the flow of blue secrecies.
i am lost in my longing and loving for you

the earthy color of the dark yellow and orange of the monk's robe is comforting my blue mind
nothing really matters anymore
he says this life it is so short
why not make it about helping other people
i nod my head and see tears in the sky
gathering in the dusty clouds of old times
they are burning the fields these days
to make way for the new
to make way for the new
to make way
way
away.

distant guitar sounds bring me messengers on winged feet
they cry their eyes out on some distant stream
winding down the valleys and hills of rolling thunder
there is word on the street
that you may have come back
but it is wax and pillows only
and dreams evaporating in ricefields
and flies circeling around my body
as if it were merely
a corps

i will go and take a ride
try to find gifts and price
to all i have loved and lost
going with a smile into the
voids of an unknown veil

i am standing here disgusted by all this bullshit and i know i wanted to go deeper.
still, even silence sometimes seems like a pretense.
i just want to be by myself then
or with another.

my heart is so heavy
sometimes i think i ll just throw it all and run away
dedicating it to circus art and music and crazy lifelove
but then it s winter
and it s the end of the semester
and it s the end of that old road
and it s time to get on a new path

it s just that - since it hasn t happen so far
i can t imagine at all
that i would ever fall again
so in love
and this makes me wonder
if i could just hear
what you think
but that s the box of pandora
is it!
and it s forbidden
ah the fruit.

sometimes i don t like people at all
especially when they stink
then i am reminded of how weird we are
and animals usually just so much better off
because so innocent and not so fuckin indulgent
i d love to love again
but mostly i am disgusted

i am so sad. so sad. night engulfs my mind

Look into your own heart, the voice whispers.. Strange sounds surround us. Voices. Dreams, Opportunities, Convictions, Expectations, Principals, Ideals, Realities, Necessities, Demands, Pressures...

Ah, sometimes my soul spreads its wings and wants to fly into the warm summer night.
Polar light.
Deserts.
Sounds,
Smiles.
Tears,
Voices.
Stories.
Yet to be discovered by my self.

soap and skin

late night
cry wolf
exactly how i would have done it
the story goes on
life is a miracle
life is weird
this girl is crazy
she flies into the sun
the dark sun
and leaves me here
in goosebumps
and it's so good to forget
and sink
and fall
and rise
it makes all sense now
it comes all together
all she knows
is that she wants the inbetween
the difference
the nuance in black and gray
and i leave her to the white
and sink into the night
giving my peace away
that stirred this mind