Bow of my pains

Those arrows that impale you
Spring from the bow of my pains
If only I could pause my business
And sit like a tramp in the rain
To loosen that very taut string
Untangle the knots at its ends
To unravel and disarm the bow
Lay it peacefully powerless in the closet
So that never again can a stray arrow
Injure an unassuming and open heart

Mud bath, blood bath

Vienna by the day Graz by midnight We got off the train And took the bus We got off the bus And started walking On that opportune Narrow footpath Soon came the gray car Hurtling at sound speed Too fast to prepare those Not inside that metal cage Passing within a meter of me On that generous puddle Of black and muddy water A great many mugs of which Came splashing on my face And as a bonus, torso and legs In a flash of a moment Decorating my dignity In glorious muddy water Car culture in a nutshell Defiling and murdering Untold beings all around An unrelenting daily ritual Of mud bath and blood bath But it's supposed to be okay Because they didn't mean it

Working against hard

Bee against the glass pane
Striving towards the light
Wearing herself down unaware
Of the open window beside

As she nears the pane's edge
Darkness befalls her over
Pull of the light and push of the dark
Keeps the bee struggling forever 

A brief distraction away from the window
She circles aimlessly around the room
To finally return at the opportune window
Of freedom in the sunny world of bloom

Painted Red Chillies 🌶️

On my brittle white porcelain plate
There are four painted red chillies
Sometimes they look bright and pretty 
But most times just permanent scars

They lay today on my breakfast table
And on them I pour some maple syrup
So that albeit for only a few minutes 
I draw some sweetness from the burn

A heroic slow down

In a world obsessed 
With more and more
An act of resistance 
Is to say 'enough'
To resign from the demands 
Of peers and pop culture 

Call it sustainability 
Or plain old sanity
A delicious senility
Climate action
Social justice or
Just self care

Away from bright rectangles
Of all possible sizes
No bombardment 
Of senseless ads
No gasping and drowning 
In the information overload 

Some lazy weekends 
Doing nothing cool
No meat, no car
Fly less, buy less
Read, write, run
Plenty of naps
Fruits and veggies 
Wee bit of schnapps

Books and bikes
Walks and hikes
Trains and trams
Local vacations
Flaneuring about
On small city streets
And untrodden trails

Not just consuming 
Art and music
But yeah creating
Art and music 

Back to the present

I try and I fail
Again and again
As I drag myself
Now from the grudges of the past
Then from the checklists of the future

When will I at last
Arrive at the present
To behold the beauty
That I've gotten used to

They say ignorance is bliss
I say knowing too well is a curse
Wrest yourself from its shackles
Lean into this very moment
With the curiosity of an empty cup

"One way to open your eyes to unnoticed beauty is to ask yourself, 'What if I had never seen this before? What if I knew I would never see it again?" ~Rachel Carson

Curtains of Nature

Visiting the Swiss Alps in cloudy weather evinced some poetry in good old wet ink: photo of original here. I give you 'Curtains of Nature' from Celerina, Graubünden.

Peace, Oh traveller
Grudge not the weather
Fear not the clouds
As the curtains of nature

For even if you
Were not to revel
In their own tapestry
They let you focus
On the beauty of that
Which is visible

Each of your pictures
Is a half in colour
A half in grey scale
Showin' you the contrasts
That make your life

And as the curtains
Swirl with the wind
And change their forms
Play with the light
And change their colors
They keep unravelling
Latent layers of allure

Fear not the cold and dampness
For you often have the gear
To lessen the disquiet
Let nature be, just let her be

What will you pass on?

As the river of time
Flows through your being
Pass on the largesse
To those downstream
And hold on to the gunk
For most will pass that too
Let the swirling currents
Break down the chunks of filth
Right from inside your hands
Until they’re rendered powerless
Your being will be clean again
Downstream will win, amen

The Struggling Nobility

You've noble intentions
And yet you struggle
When you're on your own
With no one to impress
You're perhaps unsure
If your actions matter
If you matter
Is there a point?
Then it hits you
That this is precisely
The state of the human
In front of you
And all around you
We're all making things up
As we go along
Struggling nobility
Posturing as popes