Da ist der Hund auf einmal, leise
(In meinen Gedanken)
Ich suche den Schlüssel
Und sehe ihn lachen
Das Lied im Ohr, die Augen verbunden,
Warne ich das Tier
Auf die gewohnte Weise
Raus aus der Küche
Und schon ist er fort
Ich räume das hier weg, ganz schnell noch
Einen Topf, eine Schüssel
Vertraute Gerüche
Die alten Sachen
Derselbe kleine Ort
Jetzt liegt der doch hier
Verdammt, ich muss gehen
Den Schlüssel gefunden
Das Licht ausgemacht
Ohne zu sehen
Hinaus in die Nacht
Man sagt doch
Die Zeit heilt alle Wunden
Falsch gedacht
(C) 2021
Calendar
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December '21 |
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| Su | Mo | Tu | We | Th | Fr | Sa |
| Saturday, January 18. 2025 | ||||||
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | |||
| 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 |
| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 |
| 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 |
| 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | |
You see, here you'll find poems and prose of opportunity and seasons. They're ours, though, so we have to protect them. Respect! Thank you!
Readers are welcome! If you are willing to follow the iconian path, you should know that it is always you we are talking to, even if it is not. And that everything is true, even if it is not. We all are eternally united in the last space possible where even the impossible is real. We ought to believe the foretold: If we'll meet tomorrow, next year, or never, it doesn't matter, it's only time! And everything, even time is fiction.
By the way, typos and other mistakes - we know there are many. If you can be bothered, please let us know. Thank you! And for any legal issues, please contact us before we have to tell you that we're skinned. But you can also write, of course, if you like what you read. Please, write to the webmaster.
