The mentor
The night when he broke out, jumping from the high bridge into the cold shallow water, was clear but still sprinkled with clouds covering only the stars. The viewpoint changed and I felt the not so fine sand under his …
Category: Artful
Musings on arts of all ages, and at times creating art with words – literature – myself.
For you and the babies…
Bruno Mars – Just the way you are
Oh boys I got the perfect song for you tonight! Band ohne Namen – Girl 4 a day
feelings trampled to death
Wow now I know what it feels like when a growing feeling is murdered right in the beginning..there is hope to feel more of the person than just his invisible hands at night.There is a pressure between my left and …
Heaven, hell and earth – all in one day
Hey AngelzNow thinking of it, it appears to me that I had a short stop in heaven (in Poetry Library) in London and then in hell and then found myself walking on earth again.I did not stay in London as …
The bo(u)nd(ary)
One moment can question all your feelings of the past years…maybe your feelings lied to you all the time…you were fighting it hard in the beginning but you just simply did so many other things that it was easy for …
Barcode poem
Did you ever notice that a barcode has thirteen numbers and the first two lines at the beginning, in the middle and at the end are longer than the others? The numbers are separated into one – six – six …
The letter for Steven Philips
On a highway. On a sunny afternoon. The speed vibrates inside the Mustang. I see yellow and green cars leaving behind us. I enjoy it too much to ask the director going slower. She is wearing green with red hair …
”I want you to be madly loved.” (Andre Breton)
There are some different translations of Breton’s quote. One that transfers a slightly different meaning is “I wish for you to be madly loved.” Can you see the difference in the active and passive voice? One is a want, the …
I suddenly felt the strong urge to share a poem with you. Not mine this time. It is ”Dark Pines under water” by the Canadian poet Gwendolyn MacEwen. This land like a mirror turns you inwardAnd you become a forest …