Poetry
Day 1583, view point.
Day's pictures, Poetry
If you react
to every view point
forming
in front of you
~
you might think
you drown
while standing on land
Day 1582, line.
Day's pictures, Poetry
My line of sight is tied down
for the forces that push on it
are relentless
~
I hope one day
I can release it
and let the horizon fill
with the breath I kept
and pull on me
Day 1581, straight through.
Day's pictures, Poetry
I am looking
through a window
inside of you
from where the outside
is faded
~
but I only
see straight through you
and see the tears
on your eyes
from the inside
Day 1580, concrete.
Day's pictures, Poetry
A massive
concrete structure
is hanging over me
~
it woke me up
in my dream
~
its weight
is keeping me
pressed
in bed
Day 1579, twilight.
Day's pictures, Poetry
I see bright light
and myself
standing still
at the end
of a dark tunnel
~
I stared so long
in twilight
trying to see this road
I am afraid it will disappear
when I step
outside
Day 1578, roof.
Day's pictures, Poetry
I felt protected
for many years
~
but the roof was corroding
from the inside out
and one day the rain
came down
inside
and woke me up
Day 1577, stares.
Day's pictures, Poetry
I remember the house
where I thought I grew up
~
there was an old chimney
a corner where I played
and my father closed the door
~
in my memories
he was never there
in reality
he often stares at me
standing in front
of my reflection
Day 1576, harshness.
Day's pictures, Poetry
The harshness outside
makes it hard to see inside
~
in my shadow
I can just see a switch
but I am not sure
what it will
change
Day 1575, many years.
Day's pictures, Poetry
The windows I see through
are not cleaned
for many years
the world seems this way
to be really
shitty
~
when I finally go outside
and look back
I see this way
that inside it also
seems to be
really
Day 1574, room.
Day's pictures, Poetry
When abandoned
we make stories
of the objects
we see
~
in their eternal silence
they make room
for us
Day 1573, yellow.
Day's pictures, Poetry
Sometimes it seems
that the leaves have fallen
midsummer
~
while I stare
upwards
I can see a shimmering warmth
underneath the crown
of the forest
and when I go
towards the edge
I can feel the yellow leaves
between my toes
~
the sun gives life
and at the same time
it’s pregnant of death
Day 1572, stale.
Day's pictures, Poetry
I can not open
the window
from where I sit
~
I can see
some of the horizon
but it is the smell
that I think
I miss
~
I can get up
but it is still
not to stale
where I sit
Day 1571, work in progress 2.
Day's pictures, Poetry
The first light
and movement they sense
still wet
and lost
gives them no
thoughts
only
reactions
~
slowly
they grow
and the world
gets projected
from this one
reel
~
and it is still
flickering
when they close
their eyes
and dream
~
for them
there is no other
sunset, color of grass
or fear.
~
there is no other
Day 1570, hang.
Day's pictures, Poetry
It looks like
all the lines eventually
come together
somewhere near
the end
in the distance
~
till then
I just hang my thoughts
on them
Day 1569, only.
Day's pictures, Poetry
Nochrisis 