Pyjamas
or not
silky are hot
some like to silhouettes
show off

All like to show
the sides
the woods
the forests too
without pyjamas
would you like
also too

The smell of skin
the hollowness
of rattling bones
we love to hear
deaf may one be
but would you too.
without pyjamas

yes these softy things
all see
speak for the desire in you
wear no pyjamas
will you try to...

You’re six gigabytes worth of pain
Everytime I turn you on
I’m watching a video when you shut off
You’re driving me insane!

I bought you a new battery
And then cleaned up your screen
So what is the problem here
Why are you so mean?

You twitch from drops of liquid
Pop open all your apps
I can’t even hear my ringtone
You act just like a kid!

Hours, Days, Weeks, Months
Our communication’s ghost
I can deal with you no longer
This relationship is toast.

Time is composed from seconds
like music from notes.
There are a few rules to follow
otherwise
it more or less flies.
Life is from smiles
of millions of solders complying
with birth to death march
from the first hug
to the last breath,
from the first cry
to the last time being cried about.
A cozy confinement of love
from the first touches
to the last phrase
together
in photographic frames,
letting the cars to pass
sitting in traffic.

Trudging
through sand storm
with parched lips

Listless
eyes no more
trust a mirage

Only
goosebumps hint
an Oasis

who's to say how long it takes
before what's lost will be found
before I enter nomads vast orbit
high above, greeted by stormy clouds

travellers adventure across land and sea
binding earthly wings to tree of life
grown near meadow
blessed with Irish heather
enchantment whisps it's way into Celtic heart

expectations of lasting peace and joy
can thrash and wether even angels wings
roots of doubt and shame will grow
fed into by fleeting moments of no control

I have finished reading a novel.
It doesn't really matter
 whether it was short or long,
just strong enough 
to root in my conscience
and grow within
like little green tufts
in the snowless winter forest.

It is finished. It is gone.
It feels like a death of a pet. 
Reading is too distracting.
Stirring my entire being,
it makes impossible
                 to come back. 

running in place gets you nowhere
hiding out does the same
missing out on what life has to offer
methinks is a bloody shame

Almost every minute of living
I compromise to survive;
Cruise control in the middle lane,
And in the middle lane of life-
I wait my turn to be heard
And never preach my rage.
My budget determines which wine,
As I choose my ultimate style.
I would have stayed out late last night
But today I had to be on time,
So I tried to find love...