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How The World Works

The old man had a

worn down brown suit

That did not fit his

Black hat

Smelling of sweat and bad breath

Unwashed shirts and underwear

I have something to say

Even if no one

Will listen

This world is built on

Profit and money

And contempt for those

Who have not

He kept on ranting while

Counting his dollar bills

To be sure that he was counted

Too

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The Goodwill

Waiting for the doctor

This time they will pass

The final judgement

For those who cannot

Pay there is no remedy

I cannot pay

A friendly pat on the shoulder

Some tranquilizer and

I will be on my own

Slowly dying

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Big Money Tech

Outside the comfort zone

In the tech startup world

People with suits and suitcases

Trying to make the

Great big breakthrough

Filling your life with quick big cash

Crashing or selling

Who knows?

The game is plain and still so hard

Optimised for crashing or running

In an Unstable world

The ego centred males passionately

Acting in their own short self interest

What a world we are living in

Blind for all other things like the

Flowers by the road

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Playful Afternoon

Inside the bubble

Outside real life

Larger than life

Small minds growing rich

With money and confidence

A great way to live your life

Love is what you need

Money is what you get

Or loses because of

Lack of love

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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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A Fake Life

To live without an income

Is to live in the shadow

Of other people’s money

Their will and their whim

Moves you around like

A puppet

The shame is great enough

To kill you, through you

In front of a train or tram

Instead you hide

Building a fake identity

That eventually becomes

What you are

Not solving, just hiding

Because the shame

Is so great

Where to start from that?

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Glorious City

The city always the city

Hiding in it’s glory and

Trivial architecture from

The last century

Here a long time ago

People had the purpose

And meaning to build

A better world

Now it is mostly

Your own profit

That matters

Only the ice

Remains the same

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No Way To Pay

Sleepless night

Waking up at four

Only to find an invoice

On the floor

Something, someone

Else had promised

To pay the other day

Can’t sleep no more

No money in bank

Just have to get

Through another

Day without being

Able to pay

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Magic Cash

Money is like magic

When you have it

And earn it

Everything feels normal

And you only need to follow

A path to more money

However dreary the work is

It is there but when

You lost your work

Is like being lost in woods

You walk and do not

Find a way or an income

And it takes forever

Until you eventually

Find a tiny road

You start to doubt

Yourself and your ability

All criticism seems so threatening

Correct

The more you trust the critics

The worse it gets

It is a trick and a trap

Still the sun is quite

Trustworthy