Sphinx

The crazy lioness has slit me open,
I grope for anything to say to her.
My words are lost.
She never knew what drove her
fierceness or the panic to subdue.
She saw me in a mirror, sensed her father,
and shattered any evil man in there.
She drank and drank to keep the image blurry
and keep the crosshairs sharply trained on me.
Those of her crazy kind are still so furry
and still so mad at me for being there.
It is my fault because I'm contradicting,
countering her grandness with my No.
It's stupid 'cause I'm far too weak to stand her
lines of fire or the holy rage.
A man without a stomach shouldn't fight her
and diagnosed with ulcers should just die.
The open belly sheds its load of bowels,
the pighead tries to disregard the cramps.
I crawl along, still terrified and angry,
she doesn't see me since I'm
just too bad.

13. - 15.11.2008, edited 6.5.2011

Kein Platz. Zu spät

Ersehne 
Einen Platz 
Im Kreis meiner Lieben
Gehe
Auf der Suche nach einem Stuhl
In der Nacht um das Haus
Sehe 
Sie durch ein Loch in der Mauer
Im Licht ohne mich leben
Fürchte 
Ihre Vorwürfe

Ich komme zu spät

2013-10-04

der Stachel

bitte 
sag mir 
wer du bist 
Tier vor der Tür 
polterst mich wach
lautlos abwesend grausam 
ich schlage nach dir weiß nicht 
hast du ein fremdes Gesicht oder nicht 
vielleicht ein geliebtes aber das existiert nirgendwo 
dafür droht hinter dir eine flüchtige Eminenz 
die sagt wer geliebt werden will muss
in der Anspannung eines Sprinters 
den rätselhaften Startschuß 
erwarten, der niemals 
kommt solange 
mein Herz 
klopft

			1997-08-22

Voyage to the moon in three parts

While misspelling 'wether' I suddenly knew
that I wasn't.
The sun wasn't 
shining, a wether was climbing 
the sky,
drawing a sledge with a boy,
throwing hail. 
Now, whether the wether knew it was helping to make bad weather,
I don't know.
However, the boy's bad temper
I can explain: 
What idiot created those three?!

Then - damn it! - another error:
having actually imagined a ram drawing the sledge
I now realize that
a beast whithout balls 
can't sow hail,
while the boy's three parts 
are also, 
though only temporarily, gone,
taken by the moon's good goddess
fat, grinning
confirming the suspicion 
of a moon made of cheese.
The wether grows fat and complacent,
its diet of round moon rocks
makes for throwing up, 
in time.

2007-05-29