A letter to the young Werther

August 10, 2010 at 7:35 am (Uncategorized)

I know you covet me – I’m needed by you

I really wanted to be your friend
see your inner depths
face the outer frontiers

fight your fight
burn your fire

But you won’t let me get that close. Because I’m needed in your life,
not as a friend, not as a lover, but as an object
for your own struggle against that which is dark in you

It’s not me that you love – it’s not him that you hate.
You’re pulled towards the struggle within you
and your hate is your only source of joy.
You’re in love with your own miserable infatuation.
You desperately cling to that pathetic part of you
that you choose to call romance.

I will happily hand you the weapon you desire,
but that doesn’t make me your assassin.

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Delilah’s aria for Samson

June 29, 2010 at 6:36 am (Uncategorized) (, , , )

You feel deceived
Perhaps you saw it coming when you tried to keep me from you

But passion is a dangerous game
It lured you to the brink
of what your inflated power could handle

But you did see that your strength was only a chimera?

Now your tresses are falling
and there’s nothing you can do
but to be forever bound
to the frailty we call life

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The jack in the box – not a nursery rhyme

June 27, 2010 at 7:24 am (Uncategorized) (, , )

jack in the box – what are you doing?

always popping up
showing your grotesqueness
to my newly washed kitchen rags

your face contorts
in deafening bouts
laughing bitterly
at mine

the flying curtain-rubber-mattress-god’s glittering sob

calm down little girl
not like that

I don’t want it anymore
you have to die
you, who only bring pain

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There is a worse fear

June 27, 2010 at 7:23 am (Uncategorized) (, , , )

trickling from my hand

pebble by pebble

(or are they my tears?)
where are you my child?
where are you?

a cry can be heard in Ramatha
since thousands of years

take me, violence
take me usury and sheathe
but leave the little ones alone

in sand

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The hole is darker than night but the light refuses to go out

May 6, 2010 at 7:43 am (Uncategorized)


so little rest before the reveille
across naked landscapes
where is the force that carries us to the gates of Eden?

wicked one, whip in hand
piercing achilles heel
keeps the pursuit alive

never stop
always wake

only happiness sleeps


happiness bides her time
awaits the eye of the storm to be afflicted
only in battle time stops

only there, for a second
open the gates that our beating fists have smeared with blood
a small eternity as a mocking gift
an aperitif without dinner

wicked one, whip in hand
stabbing achilles heel
keeps the pursuit alive

never stop
always wake

only peace sleeps


peace in its serenity
ignorant of the storm outside
always present in its absence


is this our only goal

to put out all the lights
and let darkness mount the unfruitful
from her womb give birth to the grotesque


caress forehead
eyes closed, savour your voice
opium for my escape will be your name

lord of peace

wicked one, whip in hand
scalding achilles heel
keeps the pursuit alive

never stop
always wake

only sin is pleasured

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Martyr without a god

May 6, 2010 at 7:02 am (Uncategorized)

For so long we’d been searching for that goodness
turned inside out


head-butted the wall bloody with shame

Always, always stood up

never resignation
sweet surrender

“Goodness” itself sat behind the screen
coldly watching every move
slowly shaking its black curls

reluctantly lifting its organ
towards the throbbing womb

Each moment of ecstasy brings us closer to the final betrayal
where we whisper feebly at each others nakedness

there was
an Eden to die for

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Always crossed – trying love, like a forged knife against a naked throat

April 24, 2010 at 6:03 am (Uncategorized)

a nightmare

You write the curse on my forehead
and like Cain I have to walk the barren lands

Perhaps it was the force of my wrath
that clad you naked on the cross
and hey, honestly – I enjoy being your executioner, God

There I’m dangerous

You’re pathetic

But when I see your tenderness bleed
from every orifice of your body
my doubt begs the question

How can you call yourself God
when you can’t even see through the cloak of the Pharisee

I’m your Judas, he who throws his brother
into the empty well

not to kill you, no, not that really
but to see if your love is even stronger

the betrayal burns in me
every time
every time you turn your merciful gaze to my womb
and ask

– Do you still want to be loved?

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I love

April 24, 2010 at 5:48 am (Uncategorized)

I love the eyes that despise me
I touch the mouth that slanders me

I kiss the hands that strike me
I worship the feet that turn around and walk away

because I believe
that your beating heart carries a longing
that once in a while can make

your eyes glitter

your mouth smile

your hands caress

and your feet run

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Soul without footsteps

April 24, 2010 at 5:46 am (Uncategorized)

Feeling each second with intensity
Playing your violin with the tenderness of my lips

hate disappears
contempt becomes powerless

behind every facade


Weeks of sloth

a mad melody finds its home

alienation grows in our mouths

vomit erupts
years and years

If you leave now

not even a tear will be shed

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Jester’s tricks

April 18, 2010 at 2:28 am (Uncategorized) ()

You black god
dancing your foolery
at the flowerbeds of my weaknesses

Juggling your wrath at my powerlessness
swallowing my flame
when I need it the most

I beg you:
Let the little ones be

I know so well
how your dance is passed on through the generations

but they’re so beautiful
sleeping on the couch

Take me with you
black one, but I beg you:

Let the little ones be

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