always and forever

don't you dare
to entertain me
with simple pleasures


I do not share your dreams
of bourgeoisie and cable-tv


there is a world
of passion
love and pain
of devotion
and surrender


it's inside my head
I am inside my head
in my world


looking outside
I see you
I see your easy little dreams
which I don't share


darkness surrounds me
death is present


but I love to live
always and forever

Why I am Not A Painter

Frank O'Hara

I am not a painter, I am a poet. Why? I think I would rather be a painter, but I am not. Well, for instance, Mike Goldberg is starting a painting. I drop in. "Sit down and have a drink" be says. I drink; we drink. I look up. "You have SARDINES in it." "Yes, it needed something there." "Oh." I go and the days go by and I drop in again. The painting is going on, and I go, and the days go by. I drop in. The painting is finished. "Where's SARDINES?" All that's left is just letters, "It was too much," Mike says. But me? One day I am thinking of a color: orange. I write a line about orange. Pretty soon it is a whole page of words, not lines. Then another page. There should be so much more, not of orange, of words, of how terrible orange is and life. Days go by. It is even in prose, I am a real poet. My poem is finished and I haven't mentioned orange yet. It's twelve poems, I call it ORANCES. And one day in a gallery I see Mike's painting, called SARDINES.

(Frank O' Hara explains it, I couldn't find any better words)

Nur leider isses nicht so...

Könnt ich mal so eben

nur vom Schreiben leben,

würd ich über all die ander'n Sachen

nur noch lachen...

The Beauty lies within

You look at your man and think:

I don't like his hat,

I don't like his shoes,

I think he's too fat,

he gives me the blues.

His style is so last year,

and he's not really tall.

What happened to his hair?

Is he getting bald?

But then

one moment

one very precious moment

you see him smile

Cheri, would you marry me?

The beauty lies within.

(to Love, and to Lovers, never give up!)

One Day... Love

One day

you will wake up

and  the person next to you

will be the love of your life.

This will be the day

when you know for sure:

Everything happens  for a reason!

True Love

No nothin'

can ever be

like that somethin'

you gave to me.

Forgetting?

Regretting?

Never!

Love,

forever...

Jean Seberg + Jean-Paul Belmondo

#Spacedragon

When dragons

from outta space

come for a race

you better beware

because...

In the end my friend

it might get hot

believe it or not!

The Sorry Snail

The sorry snail
put on her black veil
to understand
what's going on
in this land
snails love snails
everything else...
fails!

Image from: http://somefield.com/

Paris

Wenn ich nach Paris fahre
et j'arrive à la Gare de l'Est
bin ich voilà
chez moi
der Zug spuckt mich aus
und ich bin zu Haus.


When I go to Paris
et j'arrive à la Gare de l'Est
I am voilà
chez moi
train spits me out
at home, no doubt.

für ein bisschen Leben

Nach langen Irrungen und Wirrungen

waren die Windungen ihres Gehirns

nun doch zur Ruhe gekommen.

Ruhe?

Welch schreckliches Wort, Sinnbild für stumpfe Zufriedenheit,

Vorbote des Verfalls.

Und ist nicht Verfall der Partner des Todes

welcher nur von außen gesehen morbid-romantisch erscheint?

Ruhe,

ein Wort das entweder laut geschrien wird RUHEEEEEEEEE!

Oder in der Friedhofsruhe stattfindet

keine schönen Gedankenbilder.

Ihr Geist befand sich jetzt also im dauerhaften Ruhezustand.

Offiziell.......

Sollte jetzt dieser ruhende Geist

nicht mit voller Energie seine Gedanken schweifen lassen,

auf Wanderschaft schicken sozusagen,

wenn doch schon der Körper hier festsaß,

gefangen

in einem ruhigen Leben....

Was sollte sie tun?

Sie würde sich einfach noch einmal

aus ihrer lähmenden Ruhe erheben

für ein bisschen Leben.

Artwork: Edmund Dulac