Peach

If this peach that I cut
Had a voice,
Would it scream?

Would the scream sound like a cry,
Or more like a woman screaming
That I just heard?

…Or maybe that was nothing more than a passing car beeping.

What would it say, this peach,
I wonder,
This peach that I so carefully cut?

“Why do people hurt whom they love?”
- It would ask.

I would say that people are cars,
Machines that don’t ever get hurt,
Machines that don’t cry,
They just crush
And beep in despair..

What if this peach could move,
Would it run?

Or would it turn towards me
And punch?
Or would it plunge this knife
Deep into my heart?

Indeed, it would be curious to see
A human machine getting hurt.

Celebration

Some of you know me
Or have known me
Or seen me somewhere..

I live nearby.
In the field of sunflowers I bloom
And I'm my own private sunshine.

I shine.

Indulged in self-love
I aim at happiness.
For me I am the center of my universe
And trust me,
In my sweet little selfishness
I'm more generous than any altruist.

I shine for me.
And maybe even for you,
Who knows..
If shining should ever matter
I should be your guide too.

In my life,
Which is the biggest and the only gift bestowed,
I know:
I have (been) inspired.

A Hoax

A mouthful of words.
A handful of passion.
A hoax.

I see your deceptive eyes in the dark.
You fail me.
And you fail to recognize yourself in the mirror.

No words.
No emotions.
Let the truth reign.

You, the Seashell

You’re like a seashell that lay in front of my eyes –
Beautifully open,
Exposed.
I looked away just for a second
To catch a glimpse of a someone passing
And when I looked back
You were suddenly
Closed.
Shut.

I do not dare to ask why.
The noise of a Seashell shutting is a loud silence.

Evening Encounters

I walk down the street
the neon lights
of the empty offices
shine at me
revealing proudly
that they have the cleanest
and the purest
desks.
shelves.
lonely computers.

the flawless cleanness
of the forgotten pens.
This is the evening sadness
of the empty offices.

getting away from this one
I encounter yet another one:
the sadness of the empty offices
is changing by
the sadness of a man in the corner.

a man in the corner
has to be a curious fact.
a belly.
and a mustache.
a soft smell of sweat surrounds his head
like a halo.
looking down at his shoes
he observes
his expensive black shoes
brown with wet mud.
obviously he's a bit drunk.

getting away from this one
I encounter yet another one:

I encounter cars.
fast cars.
angry cars.
beeping, beeping.
people shouting at each other.
empty cars.
standing still.
you can still smell the blood.

the sadness of encounters between people.
the sadness of evening encounters.
hungry eyes
exploring, examining,
catching each other's gaze.

the sadness of being pretty and fuckable.
the sadness of looking for an object to fuck –
the saddest sadness of all.

on the highway
the street is wet.
the world is out of tears,
I say.
the street is wet with the rain.

a cat is running down the street
looking for a cat to fuck.
the souls are not born for immortality.




winter, 2007

The Gamblers

I

I want you, but I don’t need you.
I don’t want to loose you, but you know I can.

We both can.
The game is as simple as that.
We can get over,
We can let go.

There is nothing
That we are unable to do
When it comes to forgetting.

I will get over you
And you will get over me,
I guarantee.

If you look at this as a game,
As some sort of a tournament
(and I know these are not too unfamiliar to you),
Than stopping now,
At this very point
Of warm-up,
Would mean giving up,
Loosing.

Trust me,
Staying in would be a bigger challenge,
And I bet you are capable of facing challenges.

Show me how brave you are,
Show me how you’re not afraid.
You know I like you like that.

So... Are you game?

II

You know, I’ve been thinking –
Me and you,
We're like two gamblers
Playing against each other
In a funny game –
Truth or Dare?

This is a game for the two of us,
A playful struggle.

I consider you as a dignified rival –
Self-possessed, graceful, intelligent.
You will neither reveal your cards,
Nor your emotions.
I know how important it is
To stay cool,
Indifferent,
While everything inside us is burning…

There is something big and important at stake.
We play the game fair,
Beautifully setting up massive dramas
For our own selfish enjoyment –
Glorious masquerades of cruelty, punishment and desire.

We punish each other.
We punish ourselves.

We play power games
With no balance ever achievable.
Trust me, this is not going to be
A win-win situation.

We both most likely will end up lost.
Because you and me,
We are just two gamblers,
Equally strong,
Or equally skilled…
…In hiding weaknesses.

But what if... This is not a game anymore?

A Morning

I cook breakfast for myself today,
While you're still sleeping upstairs in your bedroom.
This is a place that you now call home..
I get ready,
I move around.
Sounds of crime are coming through the windows.
I don't see a thing,
Just a piece of a gray sky
And three boiled sausages in front of me.