BADENDE
ERANGER | ATA
omnivorous
Body, flesh and teeth and weep
unshed tears that mutter inglorious revelations
about passing times and subconscious spaces´ maturation
all nibbling, gnawing at the passions
forbidden places of transgression
and bones and flesh and eyes so deep
like mirrors down the beds of streaming rivers
unfold the secret knowing of the famine
an itchy skin that covers meat
objections from beholders
fruitful, fertile self-denial
a womb accommodates archaic cravings
carries life but sensual repression
not woman, not a fervid lover
a feminine dystopia
lapidary lachrymose
white walls blinding, shining
guiding lonely wanderers slinking
to the lonesome grounds of lingering
my own walls of infraction
an insubstantial protection
mere boredom, sheer insanity
a healing hand to lay on me
and mend anemic self-pity
a starving introjection
these white walls of infraction
a helpless pondering mind
and tangled memories, unkind
trap the thinker from behind
a lattice work of dissipated aspirations
these irrational introspective illuminations
cognition is whispering before my eyes
while I hear seashells rattling, nonetheless
like I wasn´t me, like it wasn´me, for ages
these are just walls that keep me thin
but still, from inside out and outside in
I want your smile back on my skin
(for adrian)
floating
I want to be a whale to take over
what is left of that sunken ship –
borne by sea foals and algae,
grounded in the sands of time,
the depth of the sea.
Gone, my love, gone and
still your wreck is my loved one.
Heading nowhere while counting swarms
of bubbles on the way,
going inside and not astray.
Starfish cradle sunlit particles of light,
dolphins whine and dodge through unlit foamy pastures,
while sparkles circle round crying out in mournful plights,
and rocks sink motionless from surface to the muddy banks
gaining speed with unseen gestures at arms’ length.
Wailing, but the whale is gone.
Dreaming nevermore and still forlorn.
Floating dreamless without a shape to come,
When, just when will I be the one?
