Break through to know me

 Break the sheet of strangeness -The one that divides us
Reach me from across the way
I'm a guest, I'm a host, a dream, a nightmare
My pace might not match yours
Lets pretend it might all be the same
Interrupt the static and form the image
Inside the screen of these feelings

Cut open the riddle with knife and fork- prepare to digest
Splash the sauce of reason
lets sit down to eat
Eat a piece of me
God let me eat a piece of you
let's pretend it might all be the same
That your flesh might taste like mine

Break the wall that separates us- smash it with the force of your inner chaos
Let light in so things can grow off it 
Discover my exquisite hungers
Slowly uncover my skin
See how I bleed into your reality
How I linger through empty spaces
Even when I'm not there at all

I materialize

 Here I materialize
As the dawn 
as first light 
climbing the stubborn skies

Forming from the horizon
across the rest
Becoming forming 
strengthening

Here I materialize
emerging from the endless water
the ripples into waves
The land welcoming my body like forgotten lover

Forming the footprints across beach sand
Pressing into stubborn red clay
A line of evidence I walked
I sought! I sought!

Here I materialize inside the sacred shade
Under the divine canopy
This is my hall where life speaks to me
The forest welcoming my soul like parents a lost son

Poet tree or therapy

 Poetry is like a tree.
Roots, trunk, branches.
Good like that.

Mine is crowded with lichen,
Fungus, epiphytes.
Too much living on it.

When stripped clean
It becomes ordinary.
Yet I dread to clean it off.

My literary heroes do it.
Have no scrapyards in their lines.
Their poems stand cold and clear.

I leave in the quips.
Reflections, morals.
Nervous meandering.

I want purity on paper.
But hear the verdict already:
He spent time writing silly poems.
To save money on therapy.

Therapy would have been cheaper.

The bully's cage

 How do you approach a bully?
Get under their skin.
Make them feel the discomfort.
They try to distribute on others.

They have fought to possess what they have.
They don't trust themselves to wander far from their own cage.
The bars bent into place through their own rage.
The space barely big enough to hold themselves in.

How do you teach a bully to rethink it all.
To pull them back out of their will toward abuse.
And how much of the abuse is for the other?
And how much are they retaining for themselves?

Remember the contorted face of your bully.
Such a tough front for the world.
How do we ourselves conciliate?
When we find them crying alone in the school bathroom.

Their shame compounding and reviving their sense of deep rage.
They wipe the tears that I witness, stand and push me away.
I offer the hug once more but the bully has made too much space for pain.
Love is a tyrant.

Trakl Salzburg to Grodek

 You dropped out
Became an addict
You would wander
Words your only relief

And your muse Grete
How might have she danced
As the rest of the family stood like statues
How might have she expressed herself

When expression was weakness
Chasing pharmaceuticals and the ultimate set of ideas
That arousing cocaine of a poem that flows
Endorsed by the Ludwigs

Some offer more love from outside
Than we can ever offer ourselves
The you attempted to fix the broken
The century pushes for expansion of immaculate violence

So deep in the blood bodies
anguish pain and despair
Unable to save the soldiers
memorizing their faces as they perish

You endure the long screams and the silent trembling bodies
You tread blood drenched floor where hopelessness abounds
Reach for the jar of cocaine and relieve this excrutiating reality
Narrate not the still pond, but the destruction of man with your words

Georg Trakl's ghost tracked me down

 Why have you come here to visit me?
I am not your equal you are a distance ahead
I am the ongoing amateur, as worthy of laughter and derision
As you are of applause and devotion

There are few little veins of gold within the darkness of my verse
Yet your work lifts my mind and my senses
And sends me forth picking up the littered words I thought worthy
Yet not a pest nor scavenger would dare turn or peck

Why do you stand before me now and look into my eyes the way i do the world
I am not worthy my attempt to transmit meaning is a farce
Is a whimsical joke a man with just an inkling of wit played on himself
Atleast before there were witnesses to laugh and taunt my efforts

Now there is just silence and the sharpening of ideas to penetrate writer's block
Georg why must you now haunt this unstable paradise of a mind
With your clean and delicate ideas
That paint death with so many colors you would think it a hoax

Until the hidden scythe appears through some haunting metaphor
Will you tell me I have your disease
Or the inferior version of such
You should hitch youself up to the ceiling and mock me as my peers once did

For I transform nothing and count myself a poet
I skip punctuation and plot to kill perfectionists
I might aswell give up, so our ghosts can speak freely

I think I'll stay a while

 What if I was to stay for a while?
Care parallel.
The patchy forest isn´t the only place-
to hide the affection we keep.

Although come winter they'll burn the grass.
And some of it will be exposed.
It won't burn my feeling off.
Nor my desire to stay for a while.

I think I'll just enjoy myself.
In the oncoming smoke.
Care parallel to neglect.
Such patchy moments.

The deep hidden affection.
I drink from. When I have giant's thirst.
What if I was to break boundaries?
Instead of burn off the feelings?

I may just cultivate them instead.
Bringing them to life like the shadows that have huddled too long.
Waiting their turn to play inside the obscurity of my fate.
But I give them neither light nor obstacle!

I'll stick around and watch my endless desire devour them.
To my deep relief and unfathomed joy.
I'd burn those horrid shadows, until their blackness transformed.
And grow those rampant feelings like forbidden offspring.

The thicker forests no longer patchy.
Giving runour of strange entities.
That would rule over the valley,
With righteous claim.

Yes I'll be here long enough to enjoy those days.
Endless sun for my affections exposed.