Stella

there is a finger above the other once,

there is a hand more important than the other one,

there is a situation 

a place

a moment

words

acting

makes me wonder...

does any one remember the good  news???

there is a finger saying

the hand is following 

windblow

wispering

just a moment

this one right now - why not?

Moja si

Moja si

vise od toga

moje ste

Da

Sta vise reci?

Moja si

nisi ni znala

ni slutila

al moja si

i onda

moje ste

STE 

vas dvije

vas troje

vas hmmmm

Moje ste

Moji-a ste,

bez cekanja..

People R a bunch of a cow

eating, sniffing, drinking,
hoping,
dreaming,
walking,
sleeping,
or any other whatever...inging

but mostly...
still eating

And people are eatable as well?

I still prefer vegetables - at least they do not kill each other over useless stuff  

Post title

the meaning of life - it is quite simple

it means you

it means I

but looking at the present, the future or even the past

it actually means nothing

but

 at the very moment of NOW

it means just you

and it means just I.

And sometimes if we dare to admit 

it means just us and it means just WE.

 

the mirrow and us/we/them/and/the/others/means everything - in real nothing 01(point one)

rain outside

green everywhere (in my place)

everything you should know about existence 

it do exist (in my place)

but not for all of you

having long hair is good

having it short is cute

in the end depends of the person wearing it (hmmm)

more the people looking at the one (one)

why do we accept  that stars are named by people discovering them ?

and all the other things?

My continent is called "Echo"

My star is called "Sprinkling I hope so"

I have no religion

I have no nationality 

I have even never been born (all this in my place)

because (I guess) I understood 

the meaning of playing an instrument (as it should be played)

because I am one and all of it

and none at the same time

and I got some good news

 

the real one

the wine one

the non colored one

the only one

the imaginable one

the one

and then there was two

....

My mother never eat an apple

she did eat a pear

and my continent is still called "Echo"

and I still remain the hope so one or two (quite difficult hum-belt sort of thinking) 

but it is a word- and nothing more or less... = + = / 5

my cat do not care

the rain do not care

the nature do not care

even LED ZEP do not care

so why do we? care?

do we?

WE do not ;)

at least not for more than a day.

IN MY PLACE some of us do (Not I hope so)

there is the one "no go" and the "join" who want to go and the "wind blow" one  and the "whisper" on

and the "one join to go" ant the "relative one ego" and the "one one go" "one" and the "two" one and the so who give the ...one

 Every time it rains outside (if you get the point)

it means life 

so why do we care?

 $ € § £ & @

sorry for the B word

an it is raining outside

think twice

and happy new stairway to 2017

 

...

 

 

 

sorrow

in deep sorrow

a child is looking at me,

not starring, just observing,

a thought about life

i can borrow

in this gray sunny day

full of deep sorrow.

but nothing more my friend.

tortured mind might be calm by constant sorrow,

otherwise there is this little glass of emptiness,
i have no friends to help me out,
  children eyes steps out in front of me,
perhaps you die trying,
perhaps you never die,
and perhaps you might even got a smile,
it will help you at least
or just a little while...

stripes red and white, legs, a face, a look,
nothing yet written in that book,
the book of your life, of mine of... but why,
the life is shy,
to be liven
to be surprise,
at least there is sorrow.

it might seen dark my friend,
but there is light everywhere,
at least in the barbie land :)
cheers

Nichts zu verlieren

um mir ein gedicht vorzustellen, schließe ich die augen - wieso - ? - weil ich ein mann bin, (denke ich mal), weil ich im dunkeln das licht sehen kann - besser gesagt spüren kann.

was erstaunlich ist und was nicht wirklich ein sinn macht ist wie tief man etwas empfinden kann.

leider werden das nicht alle unter euch (den sterblichen da draußen) so empfinden / verstehen / deuten usw....

 

Ein Lichtschatten streift die Dunkelheit in meinem Zimmer

Ein Käfig ist vor mir - Spielzeug ist drinnen.

Das Bild einer alten Frau an der Wand kann Man nicht sehen.

Und die Tür ist offen  :)

so könnte das Gedicht anfangen - denn das befindet sich vor mir. nun aber stellen wir uns vor das es regnet, es ist dunkel, sagen wir halb dunkel - das licht kommt vom zimmer nebenan und die tuer ist ja offen. es ist nicht zu spaet, es ist nicht zu frueh - nehmen wir an es ist genau richtig und vor mir befindet sich auch ein kinderbett, es ist sommerabend (fast nacht), es ist nicht zu kalt und was will man mehr - also fangen wir nun an-

(fehlt nur noch ein klavier)

Eine Tasse vor mir und Zeitreisen gibt es nicht, oder?

Ist es zu Spät um nochmal von Vorne anzufangen?

  Ist es zu Früh um Fragen zu stellen?

Wann, Wieso, Warum, Weshalb, Wie und Wo bleibt die Wahrheit?

Will Man Diese denn hören, verstehen, sehen, erlauben, erleben oder wahrnehmen

und erleben - leben?

Eine Tasse vor mir und nichts ist verschüttet.

Hat sie Jemand angerührt - ich weiß es nicht. 

Was hat Man verloren? vergessen? verdrängt?

Was ist passiert?

Rette mich nicht, denn am Ende ich habe nichts zu verlieren...

Oder

Aber

Auch

Rette

Mich

Doch 

und

lass mich nicht mehr los (so sagte es einmal der Herbert)...

 

 

   

abschied der cowboys

 

ob es ernst ist? abschied zu nehmen ist immer ernst und egal im welchem sinne jeder tut es auf seine eigene weise (solange es echt ein abschied ist)... schaut euch das foto genau an und vergesst nicht man nimmt nicht nur abschied, man gibt es auch - also abschied geben solange es noch moeglich ist, ist auch wichtig!

und die stimme klingt so oft weich am telefon...
es ist die zeit mal was zu wagen - wann, wenn nicht heute!!!!

The new life

A new life is scary,
holding a green "mog" in my hand,
counting or waiting - the hours goes by,
 and after a while we do not even ask why...

like ants, like grass, like whatever on this round planet,
moving, breathing, drinking, being,
sometimes loving, sometimes being ourselves,
and sometimes image we were elves...

but the most of the time, the new life is scary
until the death.

beeing myself

once upon a time I wrote something like poems,

maybe not poetry, nor literature and sincerely not art,

just few thoughts of myself,

just a little part...

once upon a time I was myself - the human being,

happy like a cat,

once upon a time I did just what I wanted,

now I am turned up side down like a bat... 

once upon a time there was the other me,

so whatever, so strange, so not me at all,

still happy as ever, maybe even more,

for one is sure,

the today's me is more,

me as i ever was before ;)

ans still happy as a cat!

again one more

one more time - or not

who actually cares?

I like to try wisky

I like to plant "blats"

but who cares"

my cat likes me

and I like my cat

my wife loves me

and I love my wife...

what else there could be?

one more time

not enough words

 to explain what I want to explain!

at the END let's be clear this is not Haiku! just few words, my thought, just letters!

nothing else!

Eart and water and fire and wind song

drawing by François Maleval

I can pray
I can hope
I can live
I can bee,
but can t anything without you!

I am an artist
I am an genius
I have a god-complex
I am the best
I am anything,
but without you I am nothing!

I can fall
I can rise
I can have it
I can loose it
I can die, too
but I can t loose you!

I can do so much
I do nothing
I can think
I can stop
The best I ever do,
I can t stop lovin` you

And what else do a man need?
True love is what him feed!
He just have to understand it...
And I did... it is true,
because I know I love you!!!

To foster a child

Desperately in need
Helpless out there
Someone has to come
to take care of it
and to feed...

Cleaning after,
sometimes it scream
without a reason
there will be laughter...
after all.

Poor little nanny,
caretaker,
selfless,
there is just few like you,
out there are not many,
maybe you are the only one.

To foster a child,
in a desperate land
called home,
no to everyone...
it is like holding sand,
in the huge wild.

Ride with me,
endless need,
happy, sad, so mad,
crazy, but humdrum,
to be somewhere else,
or just to be.

Morning blues

It was once a drunken morning,
a new planet has been born,
with black coffee, with black sky,
with no love,
so why denie...

When the clock turns around,
the hills were formed,
there was no ground,
the birds were black,
and no way back.

What a stupid morning,
on this planet so old,
a big man s drinking,
he has no hair,
his had was not shaved,
just a little bit bold.

And in the evening,
even during the night,
the sun goes up,
and black becomes light,
a star is shining,
shining so bright.

It is just a song,
soemthing like morning blues.

Tonight

Not on the left,
No right size...
Alone,
The bad is bigger,

I pull the trigger,
And what else...

No-one on the right,
sleep well,
sleep tight,
okay, all right.

Still not what it is!
Or what it should be!

stubby wings

What I gained I lost,
what I had I never loose,
What I have lost I never had have!

I can fly, over the stars,
It is just a shortcut to find yourself.
But cut my wings and I will be struggling.
Maybe I will even die.

The perennial night will close the final door,
The furphies will become alive,
a dove will fly,
but what I have imagine, it still will die!

Once I have canopied my thoughts,
once you have sepulchred what I am,
once i am inhumed... just cut off my poor, stubby wings.

What else to tell!

To die

YES
You do die only once!

People that almost died
they did actually not!
They just tried!

When you die - it is over,
No new tries - what you did
you did
now it` s over.

What is next,
non living person know
we invent or guess,
a lot of questions,
a lot of stress...

but why?
we only have to learn to use the time we have... NOW!
so use it - we do not know how!!!

still
we can try...

strana broj dva

Sviječe sam ugasio, noć je već poodavno stigla, spustila se pred prozore, te takođerzvane penđere, a ja evo sjedim i zoru čutim. Utonuo u san, najljepši na svijetu, jer tebe, svoju dragu ću sniti...

Mada kada se probudim, kada oči otvorim, ja ipak tužan ću biti. Oduvijek ostaje ona stara boljka, ali istinita - bolje je voljeti i ne biti voljen, nego nikada ne voljeti. A osim toga ima i ova nova - odkako je sanjam sve češće, sve više spavam...

Ali tako je naizgled pronaći neću moći.

I odjednom - Jesen je!

na tvojim usnama moje ime biva

Uvijek je teško sve iz ponova, gdje započeti? I ovo mi je škola, ta čudesna pjesma od Gibbonija je tek izašla na radiju kada sam ja razmišljao ovako. Da će sve za manje od pet godina da se promijeni, to tada, te davne 2000 i neke nisam znao.

Toliko toga je rečeno, a onda opet se rodi ta neka nova iskra i onda shvatimo da je toliko toga ostalo ne izrečeno i nekazano. Ipak za tu iskru nije ni čudo, niti sam bio iznenađen, pa jesen je na pragu, čeka, jer poslije ove sedmice će i ljedo da oficijelno pozdravi sve nas (ljubitelje) i onda ga neće biti do naredne godine.

Iskra, pet slova, ona, tri slova, ali pak te dvije riječi skupa i u stomaku mi se sve okreče. Misli odlutaju njoj, ja dozovem njenu sliku u mislima, naravno neku daleko ljepšu verziju i uzvišeniju nego što bi ona ili bilokoja druga to mogle da ikada budu. Ipak u mislima, ja bih mogao to raditi vječno, a ime joj nikada ni ne spomenuti.

Kada pogledam u te ipak nekako nevine oči, ja onda ne vidim ženu, ne lice, nos, glavu, struk, ruke ili šta li već, ja vidim tu ljepotu koja kao da zrači, ipak prolazna. I nepravda je znam što moja nije, samo moja i ničija više.

O jeseni "toliko močna",
o dušo razorena,
o druže Jesenjinu,
davno preminuli,
da li sada sa neba na mene gledaš, češkaš se po kosi i smješiš se,
da li suosječaš?

Na pragu moga srca je toliko imena urezano, pitam se da li će i jedno do samoga srca stići... Ali tada još nije bilo vrijeme da saznam sve ovo što sada znam.

Nisam znao kako, ali poljubit te htjedoh...

*prica iz te davne 2007 godine

Rubovi ili kuti tvojih usana (kako kome volja) su me skoro kao zabranjeno pozivali. Ti si bila toliko mršavija od mene, a ja sam bio tako daleko. Ali šta da radimo?
Da sam ja bio taj neko iz drugog vremena i da nisam bio kao zabranjeno voće, mogli smo se možda skupa i oznojiti.

Sudbina je ipak jedna tako značajna, mada neznačajna tačkica u tome nekom već odnekud ispisanom tekstu što ga životom nazvahsmo. On ipak eto traje, koliko traje, a mi tu baš ništa ne -možemo. Ipak u rijetkim trenutcima sreće, ta tačkica ukoliko nam je naklonjena pozitivno, mi je itekako cijenimo i volimo i šta više uvažavamo.

Kada se meni naklonila ta tačkica nisam je baš htio prihvatiti neznajući da je onaj pokraj tebe ipak bio samo tvoj brat, a ja nisam bio tek jedan više u tom nizu prolaznosti.

Na kraju te ipak odlučih poljubiti i sve zbunjenosti i zablude i pogrešno tumačenje zabranjenog voća su nestale, kao i mnogo proteina, ugljikohidrata i kalorija tih narednih nekoliko života.