Are you hungry

May I rent your ears for a certain amount of time?
I promise I'll pay a fee that hopefully comes quite near to
what they are worth
Or I can give you those tiny coupons you can exchange at your local store for a new birth.
Things work faster today.Except for me.
I still pretend to be a calm old sea waiting for victims.
Relicts.To explain my behaviour.Ship wretches like long abandonned domino stones stapled.

Children in the court draw arrows to your door
But I spend too much time watching the line itself and cant seem to focus on the direction anymore
And scratch marks in the wood remind me that maybe I should have
followed their calls
But when you leave my love
When you leave this place I'll softly touch your fragile skull
to see if the beauty of your mind
left any signs for me on its porcelain walls

I want life to be my teacher not some kind of weird try
to explain it but the source itself
I dont need any scientific heroes only wanting to help and
in the end you remain with a rope in your hand and a short message that if the salvation plane should ever land you have to tie yourself fastly to it
And maybe if you are.. ready enough you might do it
Leave this place
But I dont want to leave it

Call me suicidal but I love it like a depressed man loves his runaway bride just because there is no other woman who wears a white dress so right..
so beautifully completing her skin.
Like me.I cannot tell where you end and I begin.
But if its a sin then I will kiss my sins this night.And light a candle.For their precious little souls.
And pull the blanket a bit higher..right below their nose.
And pray for them with murmuring sounds.
And jog in my doubts another few rounds until the neighbour comes along humming some song
as he brings the garbage out.
Eventually he'll ask me why this night it was so loud.
There is no life allowed in this street he'll say with a piercing stare.
But secretely he cares.
even if its just for the notes of his soft song.
Even if its just for not singing them wrong.Its something atleast.

Better than me.I am something like the beast under the bed in illustrated story books.At certain times some kind of captain hook
waiting to unveil her love only to send it into battlefields.as a human shield.
So I can lay back.
And refuse to interract with this world even if I would love to.
So call this  a manifestation.A demonstration against the emperor
that treated me so foolishly.For some reason he carries my name
but dont let that irritate you.He's completely different from me.
We come in two different sizes.I am in his pocket.While he always rises to higher grounds.

I want life.Not some kind of story of those who survived it.
But newborn children who never learnt to spell it right.But who see more stars than I do at night
Because they count the eyes surrounding them in the same line.
Its so false.to believe in twisted theories..or scientific explanations that love is just
a row of pheromones,hormones speaking into the microphone of your instincts
A shortlasting vibration in your bones..made
of short impulses for no other reason then spreading the species.
But still too many believe in it.and sentence love to death so joyfully they almost hold their breath when bit by bit covering it with earth
You have to throw away the scientific formulas..the so called future tellers who predict you love in the shape of an hourglass
Tick-tack-tick-tack

Life is the only one you can learn from.not from some weird products or tries to explain it.Not some weird mazes set up that shall bring you enlightment once you starve half to death trying to find your way through it.
Renew it.Your mind.Be so kind to it this evening.Maybe it just needs a new seasoning.So you find more delightment in punching your fork into it.I dont care.
Some comprehend with the labyrinths of their brain.
Others with the very edges of their tongue.
Or by ..analyzing the particles in their lung and remembering what comes next to it.Your methods are yours.Truly yours.

In my eyes its not a sparkle..its that short moment
that short second when you dont think about consequences.what could be.when your brain just..is on off.that one moment where you dont analyze.
goodness.I love those moments
Id like to save them in a jar and look at them every day
but Id take away their air and maybe they would decay..right before my eye.Dont let your kite fly so high my non existant father said.
I would cry at the funeral of my precious moments and scream. Why . Why . Why.
And leave the traces of my lips on the gravestone as I stick
a finger into my mouth and hold it into the air to see to where the wind could take me tonight

We could ride on horses made of clouds.And wear ribbons and shrouds so very proud.But it isnt worth it.
Dissolve the enemies Ive made myself in this world.Tell them to go home.
Im weary of making experiments of how long I can endure the cold.
I'm weary of conquering strangers that secretly are just me.
In a different version,skin.And same soul.
Unrecognizable because of panama hats since on excursion.To take a holiday from my body.

All I want you to is sing a sweet song.You dont know how I long for a chorus of angels echoing just between the curtains of the buildings.
I dont need it placed above me heavenly.To realize I will never see it closely because of missing the godly magnifying glass.
I want it here.With me.And the tiny hair on my arm will rise.

I discovered the zipper that I had to pull down to uncover you.
And I received an image.that was so beautifully honest and true that I had to pull it back again.
Dont blame me please.I would have been forced to touch you eternally ,
patiently awaiting if ripples would occur on the surface of your sea.
You just couldnt be.Couldnt be so near to me and still remain so innocently you.

If you want revenge you can softly place me between the row of your teeth like sharks do to test whether you are still alive and breathe
and could come near to their dinner plan.
Be an honest man.Tell me that I can rebuild my old meaning.That I can be leaning to my protective old trees and have their branches covering me like they used to do when I was a bit smaller.And my reasons..a bit more clean.

I seem to melt isnt it so?Yes it was not any kind of water bucket leaving traces on the floor.Let me melt its good.
I might not be as effective as the candle placed at your window.To bring the ancient ghosts back home but if you want I can be your version of an old myth too
I can rebuild a miniature version of rome for you.Made of gold.
Or stone.What is the difference.
What is the name of "resistance" when theres nobody who stands chained to the door of the factory and screams " you wont get me away from here!not me!"

Life.Now that its just you and me eye to eye.Now that Ive proven you many times how much I love you.
Know this.I love you even more this evening.
I know you make me walk on crutches.And keep certains aspects of what should be living in overmighty brackets but..
At night when they sleep and their breath gets slower and deeper.I leave this place behind.I walk out into all those roads I never used to find on a map.

On the bus I watched loren sleep like a graceful dead who forgot he needs to stop leaving air into his lungs when he cuts off the chords of life that hung to his heart.She was one of them.
And the wires of her cd player made their way to her ear like a cable version of tears running down her cheek.
Her arms crossed as if to protect herself from any loss..and her head with the slightly opened mouth as if wanting to shout along with the still running heavy metal songs but being too calm to do it.Well her head.turned to the side.
She must have felt like a baby in a crib..because of the vibration of the tires moving over unmade roads on our home ride.
Stimulating her heart beat as the songs melted just into an alternative piece
of a lullaby.
And yes she turns her head to the side.As if desiring to observe the scenery of pine trees infront of the window once again,this time with closed eyes.

My passion is the variation of shadow and light.And how they can cause fright ..when appearing in the wrong corners of unidentified parts of your life.
I am egoistic.I just had to add that before I let you go with my observation of a nation fed of water and bread.And all the things in mind they could have had instead.In our fantasy we have cake for dinner.And apples directly from the apple tree.
And fish caught in the clearest sea.But what do we have.The world.The world.A disfunctional pile of organic matter.That thought it knew better reading the blank pages of rotting books.Believing it could give us instructions.On how to function.

But that is not my image of the world.The world is not some kind of slave I made to bring me the newspaper to my bed.Only to read unpleasant news and scream.The world is not a monster that tortures me.The world is whatever it wants to be.
What I want to be?I want the lovers to embrace each other in this very moment.To hold their love and not touch it with gloves but with every single pore in their skin.
I'd like you to begin to breathe today.
I was gone way..way too long.And maybe I am not as strong as I was before.But that doesnt matter anymore.The nets thrown onto my head ,trying to capture me, have been gnawed by the little demons that remembered me as their loving mother.
Take this as some kind of revolutionary speech.

That sooner or later I too might reach the promising harbour of life.
And the only directions I will listen to will be that of the sunlight captured in the marbles we used to play with in our distant memory.
I dont want glory.Just some kind of story from human hands and lips.
To fall asleep.And dream of the clouds like soft silky ships..floating on the sea of blue sky above me.
Above me the ocean of my dreams.And I am..the sky?
The world must have turned upside down.
And so must have I to believe there was nothing to wonder about anymore.
Left in this pulsing chest.

Nova