Is there still hope for me?
The sun sets sadly as slowly as he can
By the last light of day
Find my way

Did you see the baby that was stolen?
Did you see the boy that was broken?
However hard you look, you will see
No resemblance at all between them and
The man now woken, now walking.



What is adulthood
But childhood lost?

Shopping for arrival
But at what cost?

Goodbye because I want
Welcome because I must

Morning to ashes
Laughter to dust.



How maddening it must be
Upon reincarnation to see
The fullness of your memory
In all its grime and glory –

Take it away, take it away
I don’t want to know today
The sadness and joy of yesterday
With my heart let me find my way

I fell in love, in love anew
With dawn and dusk, with dream and dew
With life and love, through vice and virtue
Another me, another you.



I met a girl in the dark
I’m hurt, she said, hurt me
You’re singing in riddles, I said

She shook her head intensely
Her eyes were full of things she could not say
I’m in pain, she moaned, give me more

Crooked words lead straight to truth
Those who love each other hurt each other
And die wanting each other, immortally.



I’m feeling home
I’m home in quiet hut
They stand in circle
They smile in tongues of depth
Feeling home

Lost friends
Dreams, memories
A love lost and forever



You can’t bring peace
To strangers
Friend, stop running
From your shadow
It is you

You, you
It is you

Bring peace to yourself
Let there be peace
Upon you, within you

The strangers that pass by
Will be grateful to you
And never forget you
Peaceful you.



Start again
It was all a lie
Deceitful illusion
Full of grinning fools

Everybody looking worried
When a pin dropped
Yet nodding wisely their heads
When the world goes to war

They all fear the dawn
The end of the act
Wake up from your heaven
You’re living in hell

Just start again
Freed of illusions
Eyes opened wide…
Doubt the preacher too.



Never gonna teach nobody
Never gonna preach the Word
To no damn soul

I’m damned myself
Tired of pretending
To know the way to heaven

Maybe everybody should just
Go to hell – then we’ll all grasp
The way to heaven.



BIGOTRY CONTINUES to exist upon the face of the earth, but not within its heart. And just as skin-characteristics are skin-deep, so is bigotry only surface-deep. I’m talking about the face of the earth.

But anyone who nurtures bigotry within the heart will continue to nourish it for a long time yet to come. It will not die easily. Is there hope for the flower?

Should I revert to the tales of the heart? Should I revert to the inner sequence? Should I revert to yesterday’s tenderness? The first woman? The last kiss?

Or should I continue into the desert? Should I seek a new oasis and wander after the unknown treasures of the sand? But who can open up the secrets of the sand? A flower?

The first strike was a miss. The first step was the first fall. The first sight was blinded by a pitch-fork. But there will be a second. The second is the other side of the coin.

I want to write a poem. I want to penetrate deep into the heart of the broken home, there where the spirit in us resides. We are all to one another strangers. Bridges we build, communal words we use, eyes we touch when we will, hands we give, yet remain unto one another strangers. The shared blood was poisoned aye ere we were born. The shared earth was divided already long ago and divided we stand and stare at one another across the border, the boundaries of our little egos and remain each alone. But each is but alone. Little egos. Little worlds. Little by little, if watered, like flowers, perhaps, we grow.

The secrets of the sand, approaching, covering up our footsteps. Hey, I wrote this poem before, when I was young. But if I was young then, what am I now, older or younger? For the first poem was the greater and the latter flow gropes for reconnection with the source that thundered out of the young heart of the finalised decision. Seen once. Pondered once. Grasped once. Perceived once. Decided once. At the start of the journey. And everything else is just the hanging on, the wondering, the new search. We have found but have not yet reached the Goal. We are still on the path. Believing in the flower.

This is what I would like to give to you, a flower in the desert. Do not perhaps think that the Desert is more powerful than the flower. Nay. There you would err. But treasure and protect the flower. Water it anywhere you see it. For the flower alone, of all the forces in the universe, can subdue the Desert.

(… taken from “There Is Always Something More“)



It took a long time
For pain
To come back home

I had forgotten
All about it
I was not prepared

But like a thief
Stealthily it crept up
On me, oh my soul

Like a thief
Yes it stole its way
Back into my soul

I’m strong because I’m weak
I hurt because I seek
I’m not a loner, I’m lost

I did not break – because I believed
I’m broken – because I believed
I’m woken, I’m empty

All that’s left is just me
Asking me to look at me
Take good care of me

Look at me
Get to know me
For the first time in my life.



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