[the vain elder]
Sweet tired soul,
victim of time and
circumstance
rain falls on your soft shell
or is it tears
or the sweat of the wind
busy telling your story
over and over
and lets you not rest
and root
and grow
Sweet tired soul
here is the key
to the virtue of forgetting
do not lose it again
in your many pockets
don't lose me again
in your many dreams
While I hope for being found
eternally
although my path is
unclear
and bare of traces
and only my mindweb clings
to the posts and
walls and doors
where once you wandered
I cry in your pain
for one pair of tears
is not enough
to wash away the debris
piling up in our way
yet with surgical skill
and precision
we can cut away
what binds us to the ever filling wells
of our past
†
Last night
I died
in the deathray
of no smile
cold hand
touches false skin
in demolised depravation
doomscape - my ribcage
-in transparent morning whisper
reveals the heartpounder
the unstoppable
that breaks even bone as if
softer than love,
that is eternity
material.
†
It was your smile
drawn in the air
that woke me up
mid morning
but where did that memory come from?
a scent still lingered
and all free we haven't been
and never will -until -
the idea of freedom
is being told without the wink of a single eyelid
in upright posture:
straight affection outspoken, wordlessly,
by your eyes
and again your smile
does it know more than you?
more than what I dare to hope for?
more than the secret
why days begin with rising sun
and my fate unfolds with sinking
†
Misunderstood -
my heart work
am I to remain alone?
all are, partly,
yet, entirely?
tiringly painful
in disregard and shame
the unspoken silence
speaks for itself
unmistakably mistaken
me.
Februar/March′08, DUB / © jänz...!
