Monday, December 14, 2015

What now?

Facing great dilemmas.
Should I write a poem about this, or just blurt out my thoughts? 
Great dilemmas indeed. 
Sometimes I question if my level of insanity is actually appropriate.

I started writing this one morning, while having long conversations with a picture. 
I should also mention that "this" is not something in particular. I have nothing to say. Or everything. And I just can't put that everything in order. Or express it in a way that makes sense.
Maybe I should write about this summer. Do an overview. Yes, I haven't done that in a while.

What did I do?      What was I left with?      What did I leave behind?    Who did I leave behind?

Or maybe I should talk about the world, and what's happening to it, and how it keeps withering. 
And all the preaching that later turns into actions 
that completely contradict the preaching.

But preaching is just preaching
and actions are actions
which when not accompanied by a certain energy
and a certain continuity
they do not matter;
everything matters
there has never been consistency
in how people try to save the world
You can be 
infuriated by everything 
or completely apathetic;
everything else is madness
because in the end, 
nothing really matters
or everything does.

Monday, December 7, 2015


I held on to the dream

I fell into the dream

The day I uttered the words

I will never forget

How clear it was

But it all got lost
Under the snow
perfect little flakes
That melted away
Under our footsteps
Under the weight
Of your love

A sick fantasy
That left the soil
For so many flowers to bloom

But not from your seeds

Was it that, 
that needed to happen
And did I push myself
For what I thought was right
That night
you drowned into me

and I fell into the dream.