Wednesday, 12 December 2012

Cradle the Thought

I'll only hurt tonight, hurt to sing a song
Microwave feed her thirst of being in my head
Torching the curtains as she dances along
on my masterpiece how I know I can play dead
Investigate the clouds shape shaft cock craft
blue sun goddess frees the legs to run away
into the arms of you were me you are I am laughed
wish me laying grass green sadness every day
My me mind and you were me you are I am waited for
bless the wish to wish to bless the foot licked
she roams you see don't be like that to me no more
and suddenly the trains burst away the floorboard kicked
What's the reason I can think a few
and more than ever it's a crime to think
and let it all fester some more and stew
who knows anything she does, lets drink

away the morning

Saturday, 11 August 2012


"Wiring thoughts thought wise"

Fragment Starts.
From the pretention of knowledge
comes nothing more but the muted scream
The injustice of synapses.
 Listen to it
but ignore the wisdom
so You can come back
with wise scissors.

And rape me back to clarity
the morning after memory
day after day.

Until you cut, there is selfneuroengineering.
Sleep with me, dreams offer sense.
Fragment Stops.

Wednesday, 27 June 2012

i have the distinct feeling
the rotation influences

Friday, 22 June 2012

Around me: Dawn

as Gladiators in the shadow arena
they stand arisen by the mercy of Light,
demanding the black blood to spill,
on those paths and fields
I call familiar by day,
but Home by night.

it dawns, this midsummer fray

Saturday, 16 June 2012


The Eloquence and (the Core)
The quintessential logic of Connection
Expand the empty, togethermore
Fill us, come sit on our reflection
Bottled and Ba(e)re boned Before.

Friday, 25 May 2012


Defuse the perspective above
It's only the shape you forgot to hide
from memory. Another night.
Formless Future. Look down.

Wednesday, 23 May 2012

't Mengen twee wateren
Bloedbad badwater waterkind bekoorlijk blind
Drenkeling dronk duizend deliria.
Verdrink vervolgens vluchtend vreemdeling
Ik was mezelf en ik was mezelf.


Sunday, 18 March 2012

And nothing more... but the mirror.

Keep the story as a totem of time locked in the aeon of captured innocence. Identification being the absurdity of an emotionality we should call Clan. Leave the nostalgic delusions of belonging be; Oh We, the creatures of colouring outside of the paragraphed lines of truth and time.

Unless you notice that quaint silhouette. That posture that withstood time to greet you with more than the story you wanted to identify with. Do you see him? Do you want to? Hear the voice of longing overthrow the silence of the long forgotten, as the lifted midnight veil.

What ever you might see, all is nothing and no more. But the mirror.

password: hinterchen + kapitel# (i.e. poepke1)

(image family archive)