Things To Be Done

Whatever can be done

And how

I don’t know

Empty speeches

Will not change

Anything but

Create another

Great illusion

Time and time again

We relive and

Escape the fact

That action must

Be taken in the relevant task

Otherwise we will get very lost

The Tipping Point

Our vision changes

New passions new fears

Nothing remains the same

Still almost everything remains

The surface and the depth changes

What we talk about changes

Unthinkable things like

Talking about sex or admitting

Psychiatric diagnosis in public

Becomes the new normal

Our patterns stay the same

No one will see us

Because in all that visibility

We are invisible

Only the cold stone

In the bottom of the cave

Confirms in their own way

Our physical existence

Sailing South

The felucca moved slowly

Down the Nile

The Nubian did hardly

Uttered a single word

Stearin his boat

While observing us

All through the night

We understood each other

Too well

Five o clock tea

The city is hot and empty

Deserted by most people

But the bad weather

A punishment by God

For crucifying

The greatest poet

Of all times

Is underway

We sweat and

Wait for the rain

Soon our friend

Will reappear

As the savior

But at the moment

The sun falls on us

Climbing a Mountain

Sometimes life itself

Turns against you

All your ambition

Becomes ashes

The pieces are gathered together

Not much remains

It is time to start all over again

Until the next disaster

Hits you

This time is harder

But you rise up again

Trying to save

What is not lost

This is repeated

Again and again

Until one day

You leave

Going after

A different catch

Wondering why

You didn’t do it

Before…