I remember where I lived
slept all those nights
the outside
the cold wind
a slight sun
the darkness behind the clouds
the steps in the snow
and grass
in the summer
I not only remember
I am somehow
still there
I stare out my window
there is no reflection
only outside
The sun reflects again
from under the clouds on the other side
while the moon
looks on
The day started different.
Caught inside barbed wire
where I lost my way in
between all the empty space
reminders of why I sit still.
Is this to enjoy?
That familiar view.
The tension in your excess gives it shapes you didn’t expect when you freed it.
I had the universe in mind
how it all might fit in a drop of water
rolling of someones back.
It is easy to make larger
that what is unimaginable.
It is easier to see one flaw
being there all
alone.
But how do you rank them
when in
abundance?
I remember your light
because I don't want to remember
reality
These mountains are standing there
like they did 400 million years ago
change means nothing to them
Who do you follow
when you're hungry and cold.
Is it just your stomach?
Don't look at me
when you open me up under pressure.
Today the day started beautiful late
and ended soon in darknes
That’s what you get if you live high
A new year
already blossomed
like last years
expectations
We wake up in the morning of our life
naked, and you don’t mean anything to me; you are not there.
There is only me and an endless world inside
and out there somewhere.
Then they take you, they tell you without words
there are lines that divide.
You can’t even choose; your life is determined
like falling asleep.
You sometimes, while you are standing, see these lines in the corner of your mind
of the puppeteer pulling on the loose hanging strings.
You almost started to forget your why.
We all long to before those lines
to the other side.
To nowhere land, where we can play again
the puppeteer
and sit down
naked.
116 The everyday Christian. – If the Christian dogmas of a revengeful God, universal sinfulness, election by divine grace and the danger of everlasting damnation were true, it would be a sign of weakmindedness and lack of character not to become a priest, apostle or hermit and, in fear and trembling, to work solely on one’s own salvation; it would be senseless to lose sight of one’s eternal advantage for the sake of temporal comfort. If we may assume that these things are at any rate believed true, then the everyday Christian cuts a miserable figure; he is a man who really cannot count to three, and who precisely on account of his spiritual imbecility does not deserve to be punished so harshly as Christianity promises to punish him.
The fields follow no one
formed by forces already gone
like the first ones here
already saw
we cross them like we do
all in the same direction
and we only notice what stands out
when the mist subsides
like a tree with no leaves
all alone
Nochrisis 