eigene lyrik, poetry

i give my hunter peonies

full of lower case letters: me, me,
while you are, what i only whisper,
as if hunted by epilogues, by primal tides
and things that rule more my night than day

my daughter speaks of i and mine
concluding that all eyes rest on her,
i give her peonies, the ones
a past eastern wind lets grow
and has left to tied knots under the earth,
where some wayward roots have thirstily spread out

and there again is the hunter in my child
with green eyes of a river bearing a trout,
waiting only for i to tell me the story of her.

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englische lyrik

those o’s those

i like those o‘s you draw

all over me especially past day-

and fall when i least expect it. those.

those tiny little dabs you placed al-

most everywhere. everywhere.

at a sunsets end, i hate the way

a tiny bit of light still shines

through the dirty windows.

the ones i never clean, the xmas-

spray decoration was never wiped off.

and i am all. most alone.

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