Wednesday, October 31, 2007


aus stark
omni bruder
kamen lako

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Just an old poem

crossing the tracks

no childhood, I'd say
who needs childhood, I was serious then
when I walked the iron tracks
careless of the train;
where I could get, just sneaking about
no train can get
no childhood, who needs that

I just ducked under ramp
and across to park
chased by dog, and so scared
I fell, and the damn animal licked
my face - couldn't get over it all day,
yet, I kept running away
from safety of people's care
off to where iron smells
or up, through bushes and karst
to the top of the hill
just to be alone
no, that was not childhood,
that was me and the sea

must I say this, what nation
do I belong to - the nation of
wanderers, of shadow people who
never fit, don't even have
childhood's careless years:
wasted time, thrown on stupid games
and gaining weight,
stuck to the ground like concrete -
must I say: I simply walked away…

I remember, but it is I now,
my memory is here, one footstep
and then beyond, so close
but across; I hear, but I don't speak
they wouldn't listen to my rattling
voice - wax in their ears
snake in my mouth.
I just smile…

that feeling, always here,
the going, the scary world,
and in spite of fear, like wind
smuggled in between
leaves and twigs;
and to witness the deaths
the murderers
the dummy-gods who dare not cross the tracks
and walk down the slope of
skulls and bones
where I'll be waiting for them
to take them

no childhood for me,
it's a serious thing, traveling;
no time to waste on building
home, on growing corn
on getting old…
where I was then, I am now
spitting on grass, observing bugs
watching out for dogs,
though they don't bite, just lick
makes me sick their self-pity
even when they die for me;
oh, well, what the hell
sometimes I play with them,

I fascinate myself watching
pebbles in the sky,
they see me, the stars,
and know I belong to them:
how far they are? well, I don't care
it's just illusion, I'm already there,
so I watch myself, big deal
and still being here.
no toys I have, only what I pick
from the beach, when the waves
bring to me, some surprise…
and then my tracks disappear
and sand and foam