There are many forms of nightmares
Some of them visible in full daylight
Tired of not sleeping
Being awake and having vague
Foreboding of something
Much more sinister
But the reality is ambiguous
Hard to interpret a deeper
Understanding
Vague
On War
The war
Just started
We just
Did not know
About it
So we play peace
That is our role
Maintaining civility
In an age of barbarism
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Turning Inside
As the snow keeps falling
Things get worse
Turning away from the
Difficult things that are
Caused by the inner struggle
Between adaption and
Self realization
Being introverted as part of
The dying process
Turning away from friends
Seeing no meaning of talking
Failed going to Holland
Did not dare to use my last money,
No loan, no friends, no confidence
Telling anyone
Ambivalent of the consequences
When borrowing money from
My daughter, turning the
parent-daughter relation
Upside down, just wanted
To feel well, feel my power
Inner strength, to laugh and
Get away from the self destructive
Existence called reality
My bad reality someone else’s
Dream a paradox, being told
That what you do is bad every day
Kills your senses and self respect
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Daily Destruction
So we meet again in the afternoon
To restart out fight
With mental venum
Poison for mutual destruction
Telling each other of our shortcomings
And despicable weakness
Each have our own favorite argument
Slowly breaking us down
But we never let each other go
Chained by thousand different reason
And excuses
We will drown fighting until the
Bottom of the sea
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Mind reader
Diving into the mind of my grandfather
Dead since almost ten years
Using the wisdom of Tai Chi and my
Intelligence skills
To become a Turncoat, an amoeba
Floating around In
The mental universe
Of the demented man
Whose God, Newton
Would rule with his rigid laws of traction and
Attraction
Searching his fragmented mind for
The Secrets of the atom and the atom bomb
Or the standing of the planet an evening
In March 1981
At the time when Venus rise 87 Degrees east
I maybe I would find,
surprisingly some hidden knowledge
About a pine tree on a remote island in the sea
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Sunday in the pit
Slow moving days
No longer can I watch this
Life passing by without a feeling of sorrow
I had for a short moment
A vision
Now it’s gone
Lost in the quarrel
And conflict
Of a dysfunctional relationship
Trying to move in the bottom
Of the pit
Always being
Thrown down
Again and again
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The Lost Mind Reader
Sometimes I can read
Other peoples mind
But most of the time
I cannot even read
My own mind
I do not understand
Other peoples intention
But in heaven you just
Smile with the angels
Whose intention is always
Clear and strait forward
That is why is called heaven
