poem

Day 674, Caged animals.

Day's pictures, Poetry

Day 674-1

Caged animals

From cage to cage.
From decoration to decoration.

From this cage to the other I move
but what changes is the decor
but I’m still not.

The world out there is maybe,
only in my head
as my hope unleashes.

All those people outside there, outside my cage
I despise, not for their freedom
but for their neglect, their lack.

Lack of appreciation for their
innocence and
not seeing their bars.

As a caged animal I cannot speak
back and forth I can walk
but I cannot talk.

Like an animal I think in images
re-actions without words
useless outside my cages.

Only in words that go around
would they understand
without feelings and images.

Images from the deep
from what we all are,

caged animals

Day 655, Der geheimnisvolle Nachen

Day's pictures, Poetry

Day 655-1

By: Friedrich Nietzsche, songs of prince vogelfrei

The mysterious boat

Last night, as everything slept,
The wind sighed with unknowing,
Running through the lane,
I found no rest upon my pillow
It is the moon, still, that gives me
A deep sleep, – a good conscience.

I brushed sleep away from my
Senses and ran to the beach.
Moonlight shone and I met man and boat
Calmly upon the warm sands,
Sleepy both – shepherd and sheep –
Sleepy the boat slips away from land.

One hour, maybe two,
Or, was it a year? – to me
Suddenly sense and thought
Seem to be an eternal sameness,
Amid this abyss without limits,
I do myself upon the past.

– Morning came, a boat stands
In the black depth and rests – rests . . .
What happened? She called – hundreds
Called me: what was it? Blood? – –
Nothing happened? We sleep, sleep
All sleeps – ah, so good! So good!

Der geheimnisvolle Nachen

Gestern nachts, als alles schlief,
Kaum der Wind mit ungewissen
Seufzern durch die Gassen lief,
Gab mir Ruhe nicht das Kissen,
Noch der Mohn, noch, was sonst tief
Schlafen macht, – ein gut Gewissen.

Endlich schlug ich mir den Schlaf
Aus dem Sinn und lief zum Strande.
Mondhell war’s und mild, ich traf
Mann und Kahn auf warmem Sande,
Schläfrig beide, Hirt und Schaf: –
Schläfrig stieß der Kahn vom Lande.

Eine Stunde, leicht auch zwei,
Oder war’s ein Jahr? – da sanken
Plötzlich mir Sinn und Gedanken
In ein ewiges Einerlei,
Und ein Abgrund ohne Schranken
Tat sich auf: – da war’s vorbei!

– Morgen kam: auf schwarzen Tiefen
steht ein Kahn und ruht und ruht . . .
Was geschah? so rief’s, so riefen
Hundert bald: was gab es? Blut? – –
Nichts geschah! Wir schliefen, schliefen
Alle – ach, so gut! so gut!

From:

The Peacock and the Buffalo
The Poetry of Nietzsche
Translated by James Luchte

ISBN: HB: 978-1-4411-1860-8

Luchte, James (ed.) - Peacock and the Buffalo (Continuum, 2010).jpg

Day 645, Our past is burned.

Day's pictures

DCIM100GOPRO

A child in us is ruling.
No grip on the current.
From the top down and back.
Giving us.
A pattern to follow.

We reflect with a child’s mind.
We don’t understand, we react.
We react on our past.
Our past rules, it tells us.

Our past is burned.
Into us, our brain.
This focal point… surrounds us.
We walk in line and re-act.
Not like children… they act.

Day 643, land in my head.

Day's pictures

Day 643-1

Fly…

And land in my head.

Where I live with my friends.
The thoughts that I own.
The wishes I’ve lost.

I can invite you.
But hold your own hand.
Make sure you stand up.
Straight on your own.

If you’re in doubt.
Stay far away.
From this inside of me.
This world that is mine.

Cause know how to fly.
I have no ground.
Don’t stay with one foot.
Outside of my world.

It will tear you apart.
Break you in half.
Ruin your life.
Leave you in tears.

Cause I’m over here.
A world with no boarders.
But only the one’s.
I stated and wanted.

And do you know .
How the world is from here.
Away from the clutter.
Everything clear.
lined out below.
Seeing the picture.
What pulls us.
And pushes.
What itches.
And stings.

Your judgment will weaken.
Over what good is or bad.
It’s all just so relative.
So your back will be straitened.
End you will fly your own way.
Regardless the world.
And what it has to say.

Day 635, I stare outside.

Day's pictures

Day 635-1This old window is the perfect place. It is cold here; the warmth is in the other room. I will sit, and think, look outside. Fog is hanging over the place where there is life, it is all white through this old glass that bends the lines of what is straight. This white from the snow calms me down, it blends in the horizon of my thoughts, I stare outside. It is quiet now.

Day 634, Skeletons.

Day's pictures

Day 634-1

I like this picture mainly because of the stillness it shows to me. Alt these thin trees standing there motionless, one slightly more in focus pretending to be you.  I imagine walking there, thin air freezing cold. The snow is halfway frozen, and it is the only sound I hear when I go. When everything green that was alive is dead and on the ground, you see the skeletons lying around. The trees stand in silence and morn its loss, I look further and ignore the signs, this animal ones was alive. I slowly walk on forward in time. I wasn’t there when it fell down and died. Last summer it was green here and the sun shined on me. Skeletons are covered by summers day light.

 

Day 632, The need to be alone together.

Day's pictures

Day 632

Pareidolia is a psychological phenomenon in which the mind responds to a stimulus, usually an image or a sound, by perceiving a familiar pattern where none exists. (Seeing faces in objects for instance)

For some reason I see, in this picture, several little people standing on a ridge and one big fellow looking far away in a certain direction. They seem to belong together, wonder what they are looking at, or what that one on the right is thinking about:

 The need to be alone together with no one so close to belong somewhere single and go my own way of love for the one outside my reach out to myself at night lying there in my memory with love from the past that was good to hold out with no breath in my neck I can turn around and go to the one that I love and learn to hate this being alone I sometimes cry for no reason I feel great walking proud my own way and I see those eyes floating shooting lightning in my heard burning pain and pleasure all at once in my days single and never alone going up while falling on my knees kissing feet pulling strings in my brain to maintain my own smile alive to get one inside this life I betray my own pride and still go the road that I so much like and also need is what I tell when I lie awake the nights before I sleep alone together with a dream by my side.