On Writing

This is my backbone

My faith, my savior

My last stand

In a confusing world

Where the mess cannot be

Made up anymore

No it fills the entire

Room with its noise

An Empty Wall Of Thoughts

Since a long time

I live hidden

In the mountain

Surrounded by blind people

Busy with themselves

And others not noticing

Me more than my body and presence

The tower is damp and cold

I am a bitter old man

Writing and thinking

Finding little joy in life

While the battle for survival

Goes on in the valley

Few will ever read my thoughts

Long after I am gone

Only the flowers will

In their own way

Enjoy me and my ash

Very well worth

it the price of a great price for a great price

Gone behind the lines

On the other side

Party Time

I am trapped

In a corner

With a lot of introverts

Steering a the party

Like zombies

What will this be?

How was this possible

They are now starting

To observe me

Maybe the zombies

Will eat me

Before the party

Is over?

Starting Point

There are many forms of madness

As well as a great variation of wisdom

We never know where to start

Confusion is the gift of the Creator

It is even harder to know where to stop

Changing Stories

Creating a new narrative

Another story about myself

About the world

Forgetting that

Life moves Within its own dynamic

Very different from what we

Know and want or understand

Being a short lived flower

By the ocean

Inside a Poem

Writing in silence

The knowledge is concealed

In a few trivial words

Meaning nothing and everything

Outside those bounds other rules

Reins

Inside here everything is different

Filled with the beauty of order and chaos

As well as the dreams and reality

Of the fragile mind

Care for it well

Middle of Madness

To be creative is painful

It takes time and there are

Long periods of procrastination

So here we are again

A manic stroke in end of May

When the lights is on the whole night

And people getting crazy

Nervous and filled with desire

The mind is turning, round, round all the time

Feeling bad and lost

Still so creative

How I love this feeling

Still hate it

Cannot find word

These last days has been like that

Loss of words