Tuesday, April 28, 2009


Is it something with the clothes or the look in his eyes
Does it frighten you in any way
Try to get closer, try to be still
Try to stay and try to feel
The wheels are running down this street
Dust past sighs

The driver looks sad, but you don't know about that
The way you feel isn't right
His frightening eyes looking to your left
Does your arrogance make you any bad
to win such silent fight?

Watch as the chariot rides the wind
and flies by.

Monday, April 27, 2009

In the Green

Life has moved on
But you're still jumping on the lawn
Sometimes it feels like dancing
Primitively seducing
the creatures of the garden
Would they reach out to the flowers
Or to your hardly hidden burden?

It takes the hundreds of stings through
Your soft white skin
To take the pain within
But lately you've been
weirdly feeling fine

Sleepy sleepy little dog
Scream it woofing in my ear:
Is it our future to grow old and full of fear?
Their experiments on us work no more
What were the flowers really for

Dee dee little bee
Come flying from the streets
And kiss me in the mouth with love and greed
So scarlet I'd be for every tree to see
Your poison searching for the blood in me to feed

It takes the bunches of insects
Holding you down from near
The ones like you who actually succeed
Dancing around in line
Knowing of your state of mind, though
weirdly feeling fine.

The Rights of Clothes

When the slow-motion stopped me
all the way home
I found my pair of pants
My pair of traps
The ones which I enslaved you in

And ever since they greeted me
For with passion being worn
Ever since this fashion born

Cry anymore they won't
The right model has been found
Never ever try to go
The right model has been found

The perfect blend of colors and vows
Ready to proclaim the rights of clothes
A little stitch here, and oh wow
Dressing will never be that gross
Take that fancy coat away
The heat is blowing us low
Down to short skirts
and blood-red gloves.

Monday, April 06, 2009

Isaac Newton

A thousand of distinct kinds of labor
going on inside me
while I'm stripped out of my consciousness
Feeling like nothing was done for months before
Everything came my way and then down to everyone
As if it was ever our fault, such mess
Trying out clothes to cover where it's still sore

Inside it all
There's still that something more
Running away to the flowery fields,
reaching out for the sun
New Year resolutions buried
sown underneath solid ground
The fruits of your efforts, watered
and alive
Your tree of successes to be done

Still laying unconscious, juices spin
And burn my throat
Like never seen acid thought
As they open slowly
my eyes already looking
Scars upon my wrist that don't exist at all
Out the skin
The picture's mine and raw
And I feel the fluids ready to fall

But besides it all
There's still that something more
Kept hidden inside healthy soil
From which solid rocks are born
Dreams built and dreams torn apart

I'll be waiting here, for the apple to forgive
And fall as roots also need to feed
Looking for a way to heal
the inner damage
Working even though standing still.

Thursday, April 02, 2009

Cruelty in Pieces (or Song For der Streuselist)

The center of the bed
It spins around inside his head
Old people he remembers well enough
Tell him it's time to feel free
Through telephone lines cut since Dawn
No one to call you bad"
And the coins running out of reach
If you choose to follow the ecto way
In no time things will feel fragile
Your reflections and decisions all feeble
Like old people passing you by

"Listen, darling
It will hurt to let you go
Though it's clear you'll hurt me so
And I won't listen to your life screaming out
At every corner
Loud words of confusion"

Would you ever try to complain
after breaking the strain of your dead mother song
Or would you try to change
To prove me wrong in my accusations?

"Life's not waiting on us
or on your cruelty to grow mature and disappear
My real fear stands between two lines:
disagreement and insignificance
Converging both with ever shorter distance
to a point called You."

Franc-tireur of my heart
Remove me from the lines
and eject me out of sight.

Irish Illnesses