Winter nights

The winter night is cold

Promises nothing

Only cold feets

And silence

We are waiting

We will wait for a long time

Before the cold spring light

Enters this room

Our Being

Silence is a good thing

It makes us listen

To our selves

Whatever we hear in

The silence

Our angst, circular thinking

Leftover memories.

Let it be

Just listen beyond that

Noise

Evening

Friday a good day

For fraud and getting

Drunk after work

I did neither

Just listening to the wind

And the children playing

Ratata

Distant gunfire from the hill

Then the noise of silence

So many bullets

Flying away

Flying Avery

In every direction

Ricocheting on roofs, walls and trees

Losing the causality

Hitting people and things by misfortune

Lost cases, lost life’s

Empty eyes stirring out in the eternal darkness

Of afterlife

Safe

It’s a good feeling

For the very moment

This is all going

To change

But the night

Is the time

For free thoughts

And mad thoughts

The sleeping people

Cannot hear us

Nor read our

Minds

The Silence of the City

Silence is the best of sound

So very expressive

The hard options

The non action plan

Not to act, not to do

Not to think, just a number of blocks

That has to be destroyed or endured

The winter will last a long time

Maybe forever

At least to long

As every year