Thorns and Rose

Thorns and Rose

Old age was a curse.

Anyone old enough could relate.

It marked the slow end of abilities, and the beginning of limitations. But this was a world made of limitations, wasn’t it? Old age was an abomination, a fence, an unscalable wall, but only if you ignored your abilities all your life long. Within those boundaries, anyone could roam freely.

My name is Rose, like the flower. My short-lived husband, Carl, loved my bloom, my thorns, my venom.  He called my sense of justice, venom.

Continue reading “Thorns and Rose”

the lion roars (2)

the lion roars (2)

PART 1 – LIQUID PEACE


PART 2

PATIENT PAPER 

 

The police station was accommodated in an old building, a school from the 19th century.

It took me three hours to get anywhere near Benny.

They had me fill out seven forms, both sides, all identical. The policeman in charge ripped two forms apart, and I had to start again. “Hand slipped.” His comment slapped my ears. This was nothing but mile high harassment. I knew it. The police man knew it, and I tried not to get too angry.

Then they had me write down what happened from the phone call on, till now.

Time delaying tactics. Maybe they searched and bugged my apartment right about now. They must have turned Benny’s upside down already.

 I tried to remember, if there was anything suspicious in my flat, something that could get me in jail.

Nothing to hide…

No political literature, beside what was permitted and encouraged. Some family photos, but I’m the only one left alive, so no danger on that end. No newspapers or magazines, no radio – lucky me. Only cigarettes, coffee and booze and dirty laundry.

Continue reading “the lion roars (2)”

the lion roars (1)

the lion roars (1)
Part 2 - PATIENT PAPER

PART 1

LIQUID PEACE

The gutter dripped and the rain drops rapped hard on the kitchen window. My eyes were already open. The bedsheets felt cold and damp. The shutters in the living room rattled with the wind gusts.  I’ve been staring at the dark ceiling for nearly three hours. I sat up. Sleep was busy somewhere else.

Another rotten night. Continue reading “the lion roars (1)”

love is the problem

It´s not the heat you´re radiating

nor the light you keep emitting

It´s not the smile you gave me –

only me, that I keep protecting.

It´s not your touch I´m missing

nor your perfume I remember.

It´s not your kiss, I hallucinate,

nor your lips pressed on mine –

I must not see myself in those eyes

I must not feel our hearts rhythm

I must not taste you, devour you,

breathe you, desire you – if it´s me…

If it is me, who destroys our love.

270°

Useless map in my hands, gripped and folded neatly

It’s not where I’m supposed to be, not even nearly…

Where I’m going roads aren’t leadin’, but still needed.

There will be elementary darkness, when greeted –

Solid shadows from the balanced side of hell

lighting up torches of flesh, judging by the smell…

Nothing will flash its presence, to where I belong-

like crumpled up paper – my body won’t respond,

killing synaptic inferno, chemical burn dying

no more sparks to be gathered to a lightning

no more sweet moans, or arching back, no grace

nothing left to be released, diffused into open space…

Capture the blazing oblivion in irresistible pain!

Blinding gaze of ignorance … so stupid and vain.