Awakening

I am slain.
TIC TAC. TIC TAC TOC.

As purple bloom
my blood drips:
drop to drop
it flourish on the icy
floor.

And one and two and three
and four
And one and two and three
and four
And one and two and three
and now
again
and more
com-passion

And slowly
the piano vanishes
from hit and sin
by white and
black,
you wink and sneer
glad in the broken
mirror, proud
to be deep down
deep-ly
man.

Hash liar
you tear me in pounds
but heart beats

TIC TAC. TIC TAC TOC.

Again.

Wasserratten

I cry for the screech
of the keys,
for the darkness of the vice
for the emperors’ lies.

Rats rapt by black
of the eyes
they are wide open mouths
cum dirty lips
of rouge.

Hush.

Dw-arf d-arf
arf is the noise
and the size
of whom has lost
the shame,
the grace of the
rotten worms
infecting the rooms
of the law.

Ground/zero

The rubble can’t sleep
they are too busy in scream.

From the ground floor
what really counts is number,
that isn’t really ground
and even at least one:
is less then a few
it’s the zero
the round and perfect o
of a lidless eye.

Where the heartbeats beat
now there is only still,
the hushed crying
of the shovel,
the mournful rustle
of the broom
which moves dust apart
from the roots of time.

On the sly
nightmares laugh.

Eden

When the mist claims
a bloodshed for her
I’ll do flee from
the dreamt garden.

We’re all swearwords
upon salty lips
we’re all relieved
from the enchanted mess.

Winter butterflies

So we go
running after winter butterflies
driven snow dripping pure
and blood.

And we know
we all die sometimes
with a glad
in the hole
of the heart.

– untitled –

Rise already eclipsed
this rising sun
black as
an oil tear
sliding beside the length
of a shovel arm.

Deeper and deeper
only white bones
remain.

Where is the gate
to my seething blood?

Maybe in the hum
of your thoughts.