schon immer bereit zu verschenken
was eben erst blüte im geist
im traum nur das reife denken
das leider auf gar nichts verweist
als ziel das ganz wunderbare
(die fessel der fantasie)
am abend so schöne haare
am morgen liegen sie nie
verschwendet der worte sinne
gesagt schon im bennschen licht
noch immer keine stimme
zumindest die eigene nicht
© 2015
für KJYB
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Archives
You see, here you'll find poems of opportunity and seasons. They're mine, though, so I have to protect them.
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.
