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	My pen will fill the lines,
	And you will leave behind
	Congestion, smell and noise;
	My thoughts will lead you,
	And you will rest your eyes
	On contemplation in refuge;
	I complete my trail in time,
	And you will criticize my verse
	To describe with more precision.

	(1982 - 2012)


	I will raise

	I will raise your praise
	On your fine drawn face,
	Gentle eyes and gentle mind.

	The fall of your hair
	Rivals whispering foils,
	Both stirred in the air.

	Like the leaves of the rose
	Sweet pleasure bestow,
	I send you goodwill.



	The forms 

	The forms contradict,
	Arrows point apart
	In Socrates' Sculpture Park.

	By light of a glance
	Iron bars polish up,
	Tensions in steel.

	By warmth of a glance
	Beams and chains dance
	A turn in harmony.

	My steps retreat,
	My heart delights,
	What your fingers touch,
	Springs well alive. 

	(1986 - 2012)


  After separation

  After a long, forced separation, I see you again,
  Embracing your heart, bundling, untangling your hair,
  A second puberty revealed physiologically a two part
  Gland, regulated by one sympathetic nervous system.

  From night to night, I begin a new story,
  'I am now tired and have heard this one before'.

  From pole to pole, we live our independent lives,
  We both work and together just make ends meet.

  From end to end we grant each other freedoms
  And send us kind, patient and moral support.

  From youth to age, our love is a weak, fragile bond,
  Our first decisions in life are basic religious ones.

  Our great human love is restrained to a kiss,
  We pray, may He imbue it with lasting breath. 



	In wind

	In wind branches gently yield,
	Leaves turn up a shield,
	What changes? Breath: Peace.

	(1988 - 2012)



	Through perception and reflection
	Our senses overflow with light
	In the open sphere of our mind.

	With thinking and expression
	May everyone build his conviction,
	Free in each individual life.

	Like in the writing of poetry
	One's life is the greatest asset,
	May deliberate struggling grant
	Peace and also stimulation.

	(2009 - 2012)


  Science fiction  
  What is this planet  
  in cosmic dimensions?  
  Wherever - whenever  
  cosmic dimensions are  
       good - evil  
       right - wrong  
  What is this planet  
  where we cannot survive?  
  - Except by nature  
  as a first rocket stage,  
  as a second knowledge,  
    ignition is by vision  
Lift off:   Abortion:
burned as fuel   burned as fuel
is human esprit,   are all resources,
navigating with   navigating towards
the cosmic compass   planetary catastrophes
to be far gone.   and self-extinction.
  Earth is swallowed up.
 youth to age


	The leaves shrivel
	And cover the path,
	Loosing itself, - where to?

	The evening vanes,
	Its rays droop down
	And shroud the sight.

	Following an alley,
	He would loose himself, -
	Where to fall his steps?

	(2016 - 1972)


	With widened

	With widened eyes
	Looked I ahead:
	The day brought
	Only a few hours.

	In quiet repose
	Viewed I my zeals:
	Now shading dusk
	Is setting in.

	I stretch my hand
	To grasp Your offer:
	Your word will last

	(1980 - 2012)


	A body

	A body of flesh,
	Disintegrated and
	Fallen into dust,

	Will its deeds
	Remain, or its
	Spirit in memory?

	But after 1000 years
	The language is foreign,
	The sense left obscure.

	A spark of wit,
	A span of life, -
	The easiest forgotten, -
	Has stretched a length.

	(1980 - 2012)

 light to dark

	To be alive and awake with your eyes
	Is better than all time that flies.

	(1982 - 2013

	Chrysanthemums at the highway,
	Daily polluted, fade away,
	Fresh seeds blow onto stones,
	Will the rocks be cleared?

	What fell along fields' lumps
	Will be ripped with the harvest,
	Alone, what wrested in cracks,
	Is yearly driving up blossoms.

	(2013 - 1973)

	Bared Gates

	Bared gates split the view,
	Only a few are standing late
	In front of the closed factory.
	Most people hurry mutely along
	And follow the lined up houses
	With shining shops in front.
	Their eyes turned to the glitter,
	Are glued to valued treasures, -
	By them they are taken in, -
	Seeks someone his next's word,
	He won't find it.

	(2013 - 1971)



	  To describe man
	  You study his mind,
	  Action is generated,
	  Step by step.

	  To describe society
	  You study its issues,
	  Inaction deceives,
	  Murder is generated,
	  Hit by hit.

	  To describe our times:
	  In lacking discussions
	  Banalities like a smoke
	  Go up ring by ring,
	  Vile and gross.

	  (2014 - 2016)



	Dead letters heap up,
	Holy and thumbed ones
	Are by use falsified,
	By steady sediments
	Pressed to briquettes.
	Is there new language left? -
	Left only what's overlooked!
	In the narration Acts 2,4
	'They talked in new tongues'.
	Today, His Words speaks
	Out of treatise, presentation,
	Project and accusation.



	My position

	Turning the pages,
	Sticking their ends into the center groove,
	Writing: 'Mistakes repeat themselves',
	As a weekly devastating critic,
	My greatest problem in life
	Is to explain to my wife,
	While varyingly looking
	Out of the window,
	I am working.

	'Why don't you write
	A new novel to standards,' - she suggests,
	'Instead only a few short lines of poetry?
	It'll supply you with name and money!'
	I can't offer my readers a character,
	Having less guts and experience,
	Than I can fictionally handle, -
	The acute, loving heart
	Is that of my wife's.

	(2014 - 2016)


	A poet

	I'm not a sculptor, -
	I do not need a stone.
	I'm not a painter, -
	I do not need an easel.
	I'm not a musician, -
	I do not need an instrument.
	I am only a poet, -
	Release an autumn leaf,
	Reflecting spring and summer,
	Without name or address,
	With just a line of love,
	Blown onto your veranda
	And you praise the wind.

	(2015 - 2016))


	For Dummies

	Don't hang around the snake charmers,
	playing the flute to a rising cobra head
	from a mat,
	sucking in poison of exquisite verses,
	hypnotized by academic standards.

	Buy a young dove, loosen the anklet,
	release it free to roam out of sight
	with might,
	exploring reality, virtuality and magic,
	finding fun to fly and healthy foods.

	Phantasy is the most reactive element,
	mixing with air as the market square
	of Marrakech,
	it isn't a language, a text, a word,	
	but an eye to pick a grain of truth.


	Poetry Guide

	My old one-sentence poetry guide told me:

	'Start out:
	Choose a great theme and a great emotion
	And wrap it into a well done execution.'

	Be introduced to:
	The world theater of exciting spectacles in
	The pantheon of human gods, mute idols and illusions,
	Listing all great men and their achievements.

	This rejected,
	My position is:
	Follow stringently the lines of forces in
	A kaleidoscope of jumbled perspectives.

	Be introduced to:
	Forces grow out of intentions and conceptions in
	The minute up to the meso- and macro-scales,
	Where a merit is put into the budding motion.

	My new one-sentence poetry guide runs now:

	'Start out:
	Choose a sound heart and a true vision
	And wrap it into a well done execution.'



	The poem

	The poem has brilliant wit,
	Write another one like it.
	No, - this I cannot do,
	I will forget about the first
	And then try something new.   

	(1980 - 2012)



	'You are seventy? -
	Don’t you think already
	With alarm at death?'

	'That’s really witty! –
	I am training full time
	for the Seniors Olympics!'



	Tooth of rime

	Every human needs to eat,
	every animal needs to feed
	solid front teeth firm to bite,
	to rip crusty corn with might,
	to divide it into clear cut parts
	as shown to us by modern arts.

	Rodents never show a gap,
	a torn off fang grows back,
	but at humans gnaws the time
	with mousey sweets sublime,
	with loss of the protective glaze
	of our technical post modern age.

	With rot in the sour, pale palate,
	muttering and moods spoiled flat,
	missing is the white front wedge,
	their hardness, grip and edge,
	their crisp dream is now doomed
	at the dentist's waiting room.

	The long needle for anesthetics
	induces a short anxiety neurosis,
	quiet drilling gets at the blemish,
	heartily laughs the mirror image,
	heartily after liberating cosmetics
	at all and every culinary artistics.

	(from an anonymous source)
	(2016 - 2015)



	Between branches of a weeping willow,
	Half a hexagon of puzzle fragments,
	Moon's dim haze reflects from the wall
	Just over the path of my front garden,
	What children live beyond the gate?
	With eleven years of age, I have to ask:
	What is there? − I do not know.

	Which direction, what plan to adopt?
	Then my thoughts fall into the 'you',
	Giving answers, fragile or counteracting
	How does inanimate matter work anyhow?
	With fifteen years I have to ask again:
	How do I comprehend? − But
	Every new heart, a new question.

	Pursuing my readings like a fad,
	With nineteen years, I still have to ask,
	Erring randomly along a silhouette band,
	Dead between red planes of sky and lake,
	At one corner: how? At the next: what?
	A billboard ad, repellingly darts back:
	Truth can only be found in a vision. 

	(1995 - 2012)


   	 The Moon

	The moon has passed its zenith,
	Hovering, quietly and evenly;
	I pull down the shutters tight,
	Past midnight, to calm into sleep
	My overactive empirical mind,
	Until having analyzed that view:
	Why does it glide by so smoothly?

	I count sheep: one . two . three . .
	Lightly dozing, asking without guile, -
	A look, a question, a smell, a bite
	By Eve could never have caused
	Such devastating hereditary sin,
	Condemning all of us mankind, -
	There has to be a missing link.

	Counting on: ten . eleven . twelve . .
	One family insists on dominance
	Over all members of the group,
	One elite is claiming supremacy
	Over the entire population,
	Enlarging each power cycle
	By deception and mass murder.

	Counting: hundred one . two . three . .
	The myth does not explain it, -
	But in pious obedience of faith
	Not further to probe into realities,
	Not to question the authorities, -
	Let's start from scratch and afresh,
	What do we have so far on facts?

	Counting: thousand one . two . three . .
	Stellar clouds contract, burn, explode,
	Planetary systems alternate with dust,
	A depraved civilization blew itself up
	That radioactively mutated DNA,
	Shot out with millions of comets,
	Is travelling from galaxy to galaxy.



↓ Steps of cognition    
↓ Ask    
Consult your own eyes    
There is nobody to guide   → On a teacher's front lawn
       dangles a weather rock:
       when dry, it's nice
       when wet, it's rainy
       when swinging, it's windy
↓ Watch    
Take a position up high    
Let the trains pass by   → A journalist at the arena
       lingers behind the net:
       when lax, it's zero to zero
       when slapping, it's one to nothing
       when off again, it's final
↓ Note    
Go to your lab of images    
Centrifuge their essence   → An editor points by thumb
       what is fit to print:
       when new, it's up
       when old, it's down
       when general, it's flat
↓ Research    
Pin point the snakes' fangs    
and their long winding tails   → A professor adds in chalk
       the social pros and cons:
       when conform, it's in
       when critical, it's out
       when foreign, it's maybe
↓ Check    
All steps in tern will reflect    
Who am I ?    

	The Labyrinth

	'Do not enter this house.'
	It reads above the door.

	'Explored by the threat
	Is this ground plan,'
	Tells me Ariadne's offspring
	Hypsipyle: 'Look ahead:

	Behind the entrance
	You have no more light
	From above or below:
	Gone is one dimension.

	Behind the corners
	It grows dusky grey,
	You grope along the walls:
	Gone the second dimension.

	At the closing stone,
	The pedestal of nothing,
	You stop in darkness:
	Gone the third dimension.

	You don't grasp a bit,
	Grasp again in vain,
	Dead in your tracks:
	Gone the fourth dimension.'

	'Thanks, Hypsipyle,' back:
	Out of a camp of misery
	I rescue one human life,

	Ship to an isle with palms,

	Sleep beneath the sky.




	I am the old, docile donkey,
	By all called 'Comprehension',
	I pull the cart out of the ditch
	And follow the trodden paths

	Up to the observatory tower,
	Surveying the mighty cosmos,
	Hoping for fodder at the end
	Of the long, arduous journey.

	There blooms the phantasy:
	I have been here the first,
	Naming the stars and nebula,
	Consult the ancient myths.

	There record the devices:
	Vacuum has been here first
	Since expansion of the universe,
	Annihilating matter - antimatter.

	Hardly perceptible to anyone:
	Freedom for critical thoughts
	Universally breaks up the doors
	For old, docile comprehension.




	I found on online validators,
	generating precise answers in milliseconds:

	for html developers,
	checking for errors in mark-up language;

	for fortunetellers,
	looking for clues in stellar constellations;

	for inquisition henchmen,
	investigating for deviations of dogma;

	for NSA agents,
	screening for cue-words of terrorism;

	for humanities scholars,
	combing for pseudo-mental expressions;

	for natural scientists,
	trawling for pseudo-logical arguments.

	I selected 'Natural sciences',
	typing in 'Climate change':
	'Climate change is highly speculative,
	according to Wikipedia
	an exhaustive list of factors,
	determining global climatic conditions,
	all proven to be conspiration theories.'




	You hold a mirror
	To see your face.

	You focus two eyes
	To check your deeds.

	You sink in reflection
	To form your thoughts. 

	(1986 - 2012)



	You move two eyes
	To scan the sea.

	You propel a boat
	To cross its plane.

	Your word of love
	Leaves earth a point.

	(1986 - 2012)



	You set four feet
	To cross a space.

	You stretch two hands
	To greet a friend.

	Your open a face
	To ban your fake.

	(1986 - 2012)

 old to new


 Heller und prächtiger stehst du im Glanze nun wieder errichtet,
 Kühn an den Felsen gebaute, du schönste der handelnden Städte.
 Leben und Treiben versammeln die Tore, doch du übersteigst ihre Wünsche,
 Ewigkeit will wie die Götter der Strom deines schlagenden Herzens.
 Was für dein Leben erstrebst du ist ew'ge Erinnerung der Menschen,
 Gierde und Lüste und prunkvolle Mächte lockst du in die Mauern,
 Rege zu Gold sich vermehrendes Streben ist dir nur ein Spiel,
 Steige und sinke im Brennen der Sonne, verlange den Gott.

 Keiner der Götter, verworfen der Gier, am ersten Tage erzürnte,
 Aber mit Neiden und Grollen, Gewalt und Besinnen bestimmten die Götter,
 Ewig seien, hell aus dem Himmel, all was sie ihr schenkten,
 Häuser und Menschen im Scheine der Sonne, in Asche begraben.



	On wings

	On wings my thoughts carry me far away,
	Away over cities, lakes to an alternate place.

	I try, what I saw and heard, to remember,
	Remember their faces, retrieve their words.

	As guest I was received, cared for and asked,
	Asked, if I am alright, my lateness deplored.

	Faintly I dreamt, I've been invited long ago,
	Ago to listen to their high and airy songs.

	Here under the roofs, I've to forget them, back, -
	Back, where stones dilapidate and lights deceive.

	(2012 - 1973)


	5 Minutes Slam

	Excuse me
	That the time limit
	Has already expired.

	Mm... is lightning,
	Mm..., mm... is an idea,
	Further down we cannot think,
	that is our margin.

	We burn it
	And buy it every day,
	Gas to consume
	And CO2 to produce.
	We can't add up,
	Nature needs geological times
	For her resources to regenerate.
	Mm..., mm...,
	We can't multiply,
	Actions extend, intertwine
	Till consequences explode.

	We demand them
	And use them every day,
	Jumping on the fast engine
	To drive back and forth.
	We add up exactly,
	Cars need interval maintenance
	To function reliably.
	Äh..., äh...,
	We multiply exactly,
	Calculating costs for customers
	To profit with each mile.


	We love them
	And tolerate it every day,
	Four-leggers to pull us behind
	And their breeds' presentations.
	We can see exactly,
	Domestics need regular care,
	To accompany us in health.
	Mm..., mm...,
	We can't understand,
	Fauna develops genetic variability
	To differentiate in species.

	We greet them
	And discuss every day
	Life style with acquaintances
	And inconvenient financing.
	Most people can't see,
	Humans require weekly training
	Not to lose top shape.
	Mm..., mm...,
	Most people can't understand,
	Community is based on justice,
	A step against hostile winds.

	Mm..., that's one's self,
	Mm..., mm... is its image,
	Further down we cannot see,
	These are our senses.

	No excuse,
	That our times
	We don't outlast.

	(2011 - 2012)

 on the move


	Yesterday flows into today
	Unnoticeable like a river,
	Which is standing to the eye;
	Deceiving is the quiet way,
	The waters glide and quiver
	And sink like a finite day.

	From the spring to the seabed
	The droplets do not remember
	The journey of slides and bends;
	Observe the traveled span,
	Each path is a different view
	And converge to their end.

	(1979 - 2012)



	A pilgrim takes his staff
	And sets out, place by place,
	To reach the heavenly land,
	The Lord promised his heirs.

	Happily he anticipates the goal,
	Shoulders pressed by the cross,
	Faith demands him to carry
	And His Word points the way.

	The heavy load forces a rest,
	Exhausted he lays it on bocks,
	Saws off at the bottom center
	And proceeds with firm steps.

	The pilgrimage is light and good,
	He stands at the river of atonement
	And a brother throws his long cross
	As a dry bridge across the waters.

	His however falls a length too short
	And he calls the brother for help,
	Him: 'What part did you saw off?'
	He: 'The one of social responsibility.'

	(from an anonymous source)
	(2012 - 2010)



	A white, docile bull in king Agenor's herd
	At Sidon's guarded Mediterranean shores
	Playfully invited to be pulled by its horns,
	Until shepherdess Europe climbed its back,
	But by disguise was carried off to Crete,
		  Showing Zeus.

	A real touching story with a grain of salt,
	As Heathen Priests calculate their magic,
	Answering changed situations always new.

	To mediate endlessly escalating violence,
	Only analysis enlightens hostile situations,
	An extra question enlarges comprehension.

	Theseus had to kill Europe's first son Minos,
	Foreboding Aigeus threw himself into the sea,
	The Greek and Roman swords were overrun,
	Colonialism and slavery were superseded,
	2 World Wars show planetary catastrophes
		  To come.



	1st Semester

	As a student
	I dreamt a lot.
	On my first day
	I walked into the new-gothic building
	into a two up paternoster of each wing
	of the three major scientific faculties.

	First going down	
	through the basement loop,
	Pandora, smiling, jumped in:
	‘Now let’s ascend!’

	On the first floor I asked:
	‘What do you got in your box?’ -
	‘Ancient myths, superstitions,
	to build upon.’

	On the second floor I broke in:
	‘Don’t open your box too far.’ -
	‘A few pseudo-scientific concepts
	will do the job.’

	We went up
	through the glass-tower loop,
	where the skyline pops up,
	and down again.
	I got out to attend.



	4th Semester

	After four terms,
	arriving as usual at the venerable building,
	I chose the high tech lift of another wing
	to widen my interdisciplinary horizon.

	First going down
	through the basement loop,
	Pandora, whispering, jumped in:
	‘Let us proceed!’

	On the first floor I asked:
	‘Does the box always refill?’ –
	‘Ancient myths, illusions,
	to perpetuate.’

	On the second floor I slashed in:
	‘Don’t open your box too long.’ –
	‘Some convenience science
	pleases everybody.’

	We went up
	through the glass-tower loop,
	where you overlook the region,
	and down again.
	I got out to shuffle along
	the length of the floor
	to regain my calm.



	8th Semester

	In the last term
	I once tried the remaining paternoster
	to give my views a finishing frame.

	First going down
	through the basement loop,
	Pandora, congratulating, jumped in:
	‘As good as done!’

	On the first floor I asked:
	‘Do you need some pesticides?’ –
	‘Archaic instincts, rituals
	to go for.’

	On the second floor I demanded:
	‘Let me look at them close up.’ -
	‘Colored posters of hypocrisy
	and silent crimes.’

	We went up
	through the glass-tower loop,
	where a sunray glanced in,
	and down again.
	I got out to sit down,
	to get up, out, not to graduate, -
	to find myself
	at another place
	in another tongue.



	Idea – Check

	I have to move.
	My idea is just too good.
	I set up on the plains a radio telescope
	To cartograph the tiny satellites in orbit.

	My big plan is to monitor their activities
	Within – outside international space laws

	For peace in the entire solar system.

	Let me check
	To retrace the steps.
	I started from the lowest mental depravity,
	Knowledge to be power over other people.

	I trust the threads of reasoning, - not notions:
	On weaponizing follows strife and war, – let us

	Protect the innocence of the vacuum in space.



	Back – Go

	Again back
	For my educational gaps.
	I zoom in on the technical details,
	All gears of the telescope to mash.

	Afresh unfold the principles of physics
	And engineering, - everything’s possible, -

	Sturdy benchmarks conquer nature.

	Up and go.
	I present my findings.
	Everyone discusses the communication,
	Exploration and surveillance satellites.

	The intelligence patchwork community
	Dispatches undercover squads, - their

	Tricky ways have never known peace.


	Re- Preview

	Looking back
	On the campaign
	Of years of arguing, - defending,	
	The goals achieved, - missed.

	Dirty kids are shackled at their feet, -
	Our times vulnerable to new crimes, -

	All failures have been worthwhile.

	Let us move
	As our generation
	With new technologies and concepts,
	New urgencies, - they couldn’t fathom.

	We look now much further ahead
	To continue a vital, good cause:

	Peace in the entire solar system.



					Here to stay

Someone is rattling at the door,		I am the new style to stay:
			 who is there?		poetry of thought.

We are already established here	I have long fought up my way
			    by seniority.		as avant garde.

You badly disrupt our well oiled		I champion the valuable resource
			literary scene.		information.

 You will be seated behind the		I generate innovations out of
		    other specialists.		mental realities.		

  We just allow you per stanza		I will surely throw them in
			one comment.		objectively.



The microcosmos in the brain
has its own elementary particles,
intentions and conceptions, -		each precisely measurable,
both with a will of their own

to radiate energy outwards
over a field of psychic forces,
with a variety of functions	–		with good/bad and
							true/false vibrations

into life long causal chains
and gigantomaniac empires, -		cheered in glamour,
							but not accounted for
							in their minute details,

to disintegrate into rubbles, -		bemoaned in desperation,
							in a state of pre-civilization
							without measures,
							without weights and lengths.



	In forward motion
	50 feet above at the blackened dome
	the suns whisk by like shooting stars,	
	appear, burn all out and disappear …

			I describe and wish and wish.

	The sky vanished in a vacuum,
	in tiny flashes out of a vacuum …

			I don’t desire a theory of being,
			it would just destroy the poem.

	As it happens when you look …

			I desire
			a community of matter and life
			with a substrate to pinpoint data
			to send, translate and distribute.



  Log 3.8 × 1088 Planet e - Star s
Action Observation Comments
Zoom in A planet in the habitable zone A petri dish with a hot spot
Zoom in 65 million lightyears distant A blue planet
Zoom in Dinos gulp up plants and animals      The youngsters admire
    their ravaging parents
Zoom left A meteorite heads right at them They stare at the flame
Zoom ahead     There be nothing - vegetation With only poisoned fruits
  and monkeys from the tree tops without maturity or reason
Zoom off To a new galaxy Don't tell this to my better half
Zoom out with a new horizon or the kids

    Think tank    
    for a better way   
I am a think tank        
with new ideas        
plus ready gains, -   I am an engineer,    
    constructing to order, -   I am a critic to say
        what comes first
Back 20ooo years:       up to mind, -
Let's breed cows        
for milk and meat,   separating the best,  
    maximizing results,   to sound a good idea
        everywhere around
Back 10ooo years:       to ears and voices,
We need richer,        
tastier nutrition,   herdsmen,    
    driving them along,   to praise and question
        as cows spit seeds and gas
Now and to come:       from under their tails,
Follow the progress        
with production for all,  clearing woodlands,    
    feeding fodder,   to rise around the globe
        like a pervading haze,
People won't grasp       where nobody cares,
dimensions above        
one to ten cows,   modernizing,    
    goal programming,   to tightly bottle up
        a greenhouse atmosphere
        as example:
    Think tanks don't    
    point the way.    

	Inner Voices

	Slowly, my head amasses,
	what Here and Now can't do,
	my volition step by step,
		I train from the bridge up high,
		spit in a barge, dash across,
		where overloaded it sinks away,
			relieved that it proved too little,
			I gulp neither delight nor remorse,
			but add in spite determination.
	To volatile traces of the senses,
	which like In and Out evaporate,
	my memory claws on tightly,
		how do I put them down in words,
		work around at the torso's limbs,
		delete, add point for point,
			tempted by clamoring hues,
			I cut neither in cheers nor disgust
			the drive down to temperance.
	Now my sails are unfolding,
	fly disinhibited Up and Away
	along geological time spans,
		with a handful of methods,
		data are checked, errors corrected
		down to the last causal chain,
			free from the brain's kaleidoscope
			emerges color after color,
			woe, if not in modesty.


 vile power

	     Post Modern Poetry

	I know that I know nothing.
	I cannot conceive a thing
	And do not know, I might.

  The grassroots call for a new media
  To get social surroundings greening!
  But the old, indigenious bonzen reply:
  'Don't change, what's working.'
  The next stars promise brighter sights.
  Who can build a media to travel there?
  But the old, indigenious experts reply:
  'We are still real busy working.'

  Desert dust in the upper atmosphere
  Does not carry any mineral traces.
  The sharp crow scents across the grass:
	'I, the post modern poet,
  Do not sing about life's capabilities,
  Disappointed, certain of my smallness,
	But I do not know why.'




	Desert stretches. No water over the horizon
	Or tomorrow. Be self-sufficient.
	Austere retreat, where His tenets are magnified
	To make Him palpable.

	Desert expands. Green oasis gardens slit up
	Or deteriorate. Be self-conscious.
	His name does not pacify strife between men
	For a place of grandeur.

	Desert dunes move. Like corruption now here
	Or next there. Be self-protective.
	Domiciles are dug out with shovels and buckets
	For shielding, muddy walls.

	Desert dust climbs. It rolls on in yellow clouds
	Around the globe. Be self-critical.
	Billions of micro-crystals are raining, grinding
	To question His instructions.



	Power Plots

	We make a profit from our labors.
	We employ our knowledge and skills,
	Recruiting into our corporation,
	Institutionalizing our social system,
	Prospering: Le système, c'est moi.

	We surf with the crest of waves.
	We enjoy unscathable privileges,
	Owing the media with her stories,
	Blue collars don't have any say,
	Spelling out: La réalité, c'est plaisir.

	Where shall we march from here?
	Where to shall we turn our attention?
	Persecute them and their children,
	Letting everything hang out below,
	Deciding: Liberté toujours.

	Hit teams work with clandestine sciences,
	Turning their attention to monies earned,
	Poisoning slowly their eat, drink and wear,
	Stealing their perverse self, life and future,
	Confirming: Unité de la gênealité.

	Our trickeries are our Achilles heels.
	Sparrows in droves jostle on rooftops,
	Call with the voices of the slaughtered.
	We have no place to go,
	But to run for the ropes.



	How long

	How long will I speak out
	And people without spirit
	Retract themselves from me,

	How long will I speak out
	And offenders force rocks
	To block and seal my way,

	I will speak out as long
	Away from critical aim
	Man's actions widely err.

	(1985 - 2012)


	Do not

	Do not vacillate, - proceed.

	Do not fight your enemy with iron,
	Spouting fire,
	But tear his plans in the nude of light.

	If you condemn your tongue to chains,
	You bury your soul forever in the grave.

	(1990 - 2012)


	Let us

	Let us speak out
	In the name of the Lord.

	Let us make His truth shine,
	Plainness and reconciliation,
	Like from a wild, stormy sky
	Pollutants are washed away.

	Let us extend His healing hand
	To the bitter, despairing and violent,
	Clearing illusions, faulty arguments
	Of degrading might.

	We speak out in His grace,
	When adding a word of love
	To our enemies too.

	(1990 - 2012)


	Come, enter

	Come, enter through these gates
	And be refreshed with mirth:
	Rest from your money's fines,
	Let from your friends support,
	Leave from your beauty's shine.
	To come in this garden, you left
	All these and your flesh behind.

	(1984 - 2012)


	Help wanted

	Help Wanted
	At the gates of Your vineyard I inquire:
	Is any job there, fitting my hands?

	What did you learn? - Poetry.
	What did you do last? - Not much.
	Come, enter onto my larger grounds.

	Do you see the steep hills and vines,
	Do you see the dark forests beyond,
	The stony wastes and pollution?

	Who will work, but my servants?
	Here are your working clothes:
	Old shirt, pants, cap and solid shoes.

	Get ready,
	Here are your working tools:
	Word, pen, paper and Multi Media.

	Set to work,
	First, where it is the most urgent today,
	Where the biggest rocks need to get out:

	Truth has to break through lie,
	Persistence has to break through spite.

	(2009 - 2012)


	Waste cans

	Waste cans are tossed by the wind,
	Their tinkle subsides, though it blows:
	'I speak with a whispering voice,
	I gently unfold your eyes
	To spread out a new landscape,
	Where I name plants and flowers,
	I grant you solace in my palms, in peace,
	My words, gestures and promise are clear:
	Pass on my love to all mankind.'

	(1990 - 2012)



	I am standing with my face in front of the Lord.
	A column of air addresses me, shielding the view
	From the wide landscape behind, - can that be?

	I am thrown back, - the column says:
	I am impatient that you learn to see:

	Distinguish good from evil.
	All the bad in the air
	Needs extra care.

	Distinguish true from false.
	The possible in the air
	Is all true.




	I am sure of what we do not see,
	Spiritual forces
	Reach to the poorest of the poor.

	I toil patently in treacherous life,
	Human virtues
	Stoop to dusty sand and soil.

	I analyze dryly the nitty and gritty,
	One word
	Names a villainy to the point.

	I speak all languages.




	Hope points to life.

	Anticipation is millions of years older
	than formal rituals.

	Projection looks towards infinity far
	beyond formal religions.

	Out of the tiny seeds of faith
	and daily work
	a blossom survives in reality.


 first steps


	Barman, another whisky
	after that shot gun sermon,
	where the preacher used plain language
	to teach us big blockheads to understand,
	who set out to a free country
	to check the sky to be the limit
	and wound up next to the piano
	player in a smoky saloon.

	God has been abundantly generous,
	He gave us everything we need,
	He helps every babe
	from crawling to walking,
	He helps us in the first steps
	to use conscience, head, hands
	exactly in that sequence: first
	Do justice and love mercy.




	Bartender, another whisky
	after that shot gun sermon
	to plainly teach us the rock-bottom basics,
	us fallen down into sloth and drunkenness,
	shoving glasses, coins across counters,
	stirring legal positions into slaughter,
	we need detoxification, not to go from
	real bad to worse.

	God has been abundantly generous,
	to manage our affairs in practical life,
	as a pioneer you learn fast
	to use your head to the point,
	stay in your saddle, find your way,
	protect the trail, set up a log hut,
	otherwise there’ll be no sorry, no curse,
	only an unmarked grave.




	Bartender, another whisky
	after that shot gun sermon
	to teach us about the high lofty skies,
	where God alone thrones and judges,
	He does not throw dice,
	nor does He play cards
	or hides an ace or a revolver
	under the belt.

	God has been abundantly generous
	to open our eyes to cosmic horizons,
	as an astronaut you learn once
	to grasp objects out of a vision,
	arrange them in mental operations,
	terra form, plant crops, harvest in,
	otherwise, God won’t waste a bullet
	on a dead horse.


 boundaries 1


	God gave his creation
	Into the stewardship of man
	To radiate in multiple ways
	His spirit,
	Humbleness, Justice, Peace.
	But not be submerged in mirages
	That delude with false hopes,
	They vanish.
	But not to rely on tools
	That do not pass a mountain
	They do not carry into the sea.
	Their wines, their tears cannot
	Yield solace, but perdition.
	Who enter His kingdom
	In their hearts,
	Will enter His kingdom
	Of eternal life.

	(2011 - 2016)


	I am the Lord your God,
	Who created heaven and earth
	And all living things in it.
	Outside my given guidance for man
	There endures no lasting life
	And I will demand account
	Not alone of actions, but of thoughts.

	Man discerns his holy image
	And nature given limits
	In his own heart and mind
	Alone in the fear of the Lord.

	My creation provides sustenance
	For those who seek shelter
	In their zeal to find the way.

	My creation provides joy
	For those who seek knowledge,
	In works to glorify my name.

	Both reflections of my kingdom,
	But none will gather the fruits,
	Unless in the spirit of humility.

	Transgressing my given guidance
	Man will not anymore be man,
	His heart a depraved chimera,
	Mentality exude spite,

	And earth not anymore be earth,
	Water dehydrate,

	And toxins alone be left.

	(1991 - 2018)


	I am the Lord your God,
	Who rules over all creatures
	From beginning to end of time.
	Outside my guidance for man
	There endures no lasting life
	And I will demand account
	Not alone of actions, but of thoughts.

	As I extend my healing hand in love
	In equality to all mankind,
	Man recognizes his earthen place
	Alone with penitence in his heart.

	He yields property and knowledge
	To people from the nearest, furthest,
	My dearest are but the disadvantaged.

	He searches, heals and defends
	Each in torture mutilated, lost,
	Or but I will refresh the oppressed.

	Both reflections of my kingdom,
	But none will find its peace,
	Unless in the spirit of humility.

	Transgressing my given guidance
	Life will be fouled by guile,
	Hate rise as the dominant sword,
	Extortion strangle all breath,

	And objects will turn into weapons,
	Death begin its march of crimes,

	And terror alone be left.


 boundaries 2

	I am the Lord your God
	To whom all things are known,
	Who counts all hearts and minds.
	Outside my given guidance for man
	There endures no lasting life
	And I will demand account
	Not alone of actions, but of thoughts.

	As I reveal eternal truth through love
	In the unity of all mankind,
	Man discerns his mind, his truth
	Alone with a benefit in his heart.

	Those observing an ear of corn
	Will measure, plant a whole field
	To feed the neighboring towns.

	Those discovering a spark of beauty,
	Pure in contemplation, eye and means,
	Will rise, communicate to all.

	Both reflections of my kingdom,
	But none will hear my word,
	Unless in the spirit of humility.

	Transgressing my given guidance
	Mirth will be broken trough lie,
	Sloth besmear all thought,
	Ambiguous designs self-destruct,

	And words will turn into cries,
	Catastrophes suffocate the planet,

	And silence alone be left.

	(1991 - 2012)


	I am the Lord your God,
	I am the fountain of eternal life,
	Granting all seekers solace.
	Outside my given guidance for man
	There endures no lasting life
	And I will demand account
	Not alone of actions, but of thoughts.

	As I bestow my spiritual gifts
	In abundance on all mankind,
	Man succeeds in mental endeavors
	Alone with my will in his heart.

	Comparing, talking to a neighbor,
	Give your wide conceptions
	A succinct self-positioning.

	Investigate your own demerits,
	Follow your intents in all lines
	To the furthest consequences.

	Both reflections of my kingdom,
	But none will grasp its dimensions,
	Unless in the spirit of humility.

	Transgressing my given guidance
	Stalactites will sink from the sky,
	Hopes crumbling gravitate,
	Erring steps echo their fright,

	And the earth will close its caves,
	Press vile through aquashing cracks,

	And desert alone be left.



	I am the Lord your God
	Who has given His only Son
	For the redemption of sins.
	Outside my given guidance for man
	There endures no lasting life
	And I will demand account
	Not alone of actions, but of thoughts.

	I am the eternal word of light,
	Enter not to burn, but to see,
	Be born anew out of my Grace
	To pass its peace among you.

	My word is wholesome food,
	It ripens high in the mind,
	Separates good and evil ways.

	My word is forgiveness,
	It lays out its paths plainly
	To guide all erring souls.

	Both reflections of my kingdom,
	But none will see my light,
	Unless in the spirit of humility.

	Transgressing my given guidance,
	Perpetrators have judged themselves,
	First hypocrites in plain suits,
	Guilty of pretence and crime,

	And abominators without choice
	Will run for their ropes,

	But I gather my humble sheep.



	Luke 6,45

Enough control to govern?
	Never enough tools of power?
		Not sufficient to direct a people of 
		farmers by territory and traditions?
	Corruption is engineered by
	restrictive laws and torture,
proclaiming power, for the mouth
speaks, what the heart is full of.

Means can be set up.
	Realities are constructed.
		Data control guides a population of
		experts by political correctness.
	Soft technologies enforce it by
	cyber-bio-chem-rad weapons,
proclaiming power, but a sterile word
stinks from heart to mouth to heaven.



    More stars

    There are more stars than a dominating sun.
    Far out rove my spiralling phantasies,
    Their lights shine and their warmth radiate,
    One day one of my hopes will be fulfilled.

    Set up are systems, intellectual masks of power,
    By the global players on our miniature planet
    To deflect and to manipulate our expectations,
    For their flow of profits to have clear sailing.

    Foisted is progress as a generator of power,
    By genetic toxins to program our desires,
    Our long breath and strength to resist, to cry out,
    Against guzzlers like our privileged elites.

    (1991 - 2012)



   What are your mental horizons, but cynicism,
   What your thoughts, but crumbling scaffoldings
   Of ashes, your feelings, but snake thrown scales?
   My word is the only word of truth.
   Transgressing my given guidance for man,
   You do not acquire lasting sustenance
   And I will demand account
   Not alone of actions, but of thoughts.

   You have rejected everything that is divine,
   None of your achievements are in my name.
   What are your palaces, but black marble
   Swallowing light, your progresses septic scars
   Under linen, your labors adits of depravity?

   You have rejected the balms of my Grace,
   Choosing the delights of illusions' grimes.
   What are your institutions, but elevators from
   The sutterain, your social conventions deflections
   From vice, your altars plates polished mute?

   Your evil practices convict you,
   You operate gas chambers as a social sport,
   You release your children into sate prostitution,
   Your paths of propaganda, atrocities
   And self-deceptions leading back,
   With your own hands to press out your eyes,
   With your own nails to tear out your entails,
   Tongues torn, you mutter your pains.

   (1993 - 2012)



You are caught redhanded.
You are on video.
You are accused of murder.

	You bastard swine.
	Who are you?
	Bastards like you don’t have any place here,
	Deadheads, who only stir up trouble,
	Asses, responsible for all our problems
	With their numerous, parasitic children.

You are caught redhanded.
The claws of the law creep up on you,
Inevitably, you’ll be arranged in court.

	Dirt, slime, vermin, - you are that bad
	To deserve the worst that can be done.
	I’ll arrange, - surely, - you’ll be picked up.




Again you are caught.
You are on tape.
You are accused of murder.

	You lying swine.
	What are you up to?
	You foul the air with dark plumes
	Of smelly, gnawing, acidic termites
	To pervert our hard working people,
	To unravel our closely knit social fabric.

You are caught redhanded.
Your executive arms are now foiled,
There’s no way out, but to rot in jail.

	Liar, instigator, demonizer, - off and away!
	Your hate campaign will be pulled apart.
	I’ll drum up, - surely, - you’ll be silenced.




You are all checked out.
You are a mass murderer.

	You treacherous swine.
	You didn’t warn me properly.
	Phony, hypocrite, henchman.
	Where are your standards?
	Where is your fair trial?
	I have all the rights!

You are caught redhanded.
The indictment has been set up,
It will be read to you handcuffed.

	You do not have a bit of evidence.
	Their ashes were finely pulverized,
	Mixed into rocket fuel to go up.



	Daily behind lighted ads
	Silenced are exhorting voices
	Against torture and autocrats
	In whimpers and silent cries.
	They are being called to order
	By collapse and secret power.
	Docs, lawyers break for pause,
	A few drops for a good cause.
	Millions sent to their last refuge,
	Always, always the bells accuse.



	Down river

	Running waters reflect our ways in life,
	Ripples in the river, waves in the ocean,
	Stars in the sky are close up distances.

	The road to God seems measurable,
	Sky up? - Sky down? - - No, up river,
	Ambulating here green and alga rich.

	His Words from afar quietly advise us:
	Steadily climb up to the sources of life,
	Where the brooks are clear and blue.

	Row with diligence against the current,
	Don't let yourself be carried backwards,
	At night set up your tent near by shore.

	Long, fast boats aim straight down river,
	Packed with heads, goods and weapons,
	Hurry by with fancy, flapping pennants.

	Continuing on as stubbornly as of ages,
	Their captains follow the same compass
	That led up to colonies and world wars.

	They gush on down over narrow falls,
	Wide circling around pale, grey eddies,
	'Nev' back' now unveils the black flag.

	The kings and presidents of our times
	Steer at massive planetary catastrophes
	To drown in desolateness, steel and sand.




	As a column, as so often before,
	Misery breaks in with combatants,
	Pillage, murder, chopped throats.

	As sprayed flocks got away,
	Irretrievables were bewailed:
	'He let me dwell in darkness
	like those long dead.'
	'Look at our despair, Lord
	of this blood soaked soil.'

	An aesthetic word wreath
	Does not grasp the deed.
	The blunt view of corpses
	Does not move the eye,
	Missing are claims and cuffs
	For justice.

	This is a poster
	With fact, picture, a call
	That tomorrow
	Will spot from every wall.

	(Quotes: Lamentations 3,6 and
	G Walden: We, the Lost - 1943)


	In solitude

	In solitude
	Many miles from the next housing
	In the gleams of a beech wood fire,
	A plain, sharp mind absorbs His lines,
	Pursuing eyes of a spy mutilate the picture
	To issue, 'His quiet voice has never risen.'

	In desolation
	Secluded from recuperating sections
	In a muffled ward for the dying,
	A person's breath is softening, fainting,
	oxic drugs freeze the face in agony
	To proof, 'His peace does not exist.

	(1990 - 2012)



	Dehumanized in CIA gas chambers,
	Labor camps of sadism and sodomy,
	They moan with severed tongues
	'Will these crimes be stopped,
	Will people arrest their hurried steps
	To expose these boils before the light?'
	They beg with crippled hands
	To be granted a base of dignity,
	Air to breathe, not being gassed,
	Water to drink, not being poisoned,
	Bread to eat, not being contaminated.
	Their prayers look up to the Lord,
	Their dying hopes to countries
	That do not tolerate depravities,
	To be set free from their chains.

	(1992 - 2012)


	These crimes

	These crimes of human depravity,
	Gas chambers and state prostitution,
	These crimes cry out to heaven
	Before the ears of the Lord.

	These crimes cry out to heaven,
	Their permissiveness, silent toleration
	Will not anymore go unnoticed
	Before the patience of the Lord.

	I will turn my light away,
	I will condemn their evil intent,
	Abandon the country to darkness
	Not anymore to see its face.

	In the abyss of intellectual sloth
	Of human capabilities, convenience,
	I will forsake forever my guidance,
	Weeds to cover its towns.
  Their gorges will not see the steps Leading to my judgement throne, Alone who walk humbly in Spirit I gather as my peaceful sheep. (1991 - 1992)

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V.i.S.d.P. Udo Frentzen
Address Benfleet Str. 13
  50858 Köln
TranslatorUdo Frentzen
The poems of this website are for private use only.
All further rights are reserved.

2 dates refer to the English - German versions.