childhood memories in a vivid blur
strong emotions creep up on you
what went down but not the end
gnawing in your chest with unease
an arrow cleaves your dream
in an endless corridor of slamming doors
wake you up in cold wet sweat
twilight zone between now and then
Sweet dreams, ha de Gött!
What if
Jesus rode in today
would it be on a
a noisy chopper bike
in a bikers leather west
white halo helmet
or
an electric scooter
letting the long hair
fly in the wind
-
would it be
blast through the doors
of the shopping mall
in the escalator declare
our sins with bombastic words
or
sitting down by the hobo
look with tears in eye at
the steel and glass temple of banks
You can’t bring anything when you finally go, ha de Gött!
in the small clearing
frozen ballerina
ice crystal floor
tip toe dance
to the circle of life
Try to follow Mother Natures rhythm, ha de Gött!
It has come to this, I fear
The passing, of another year
Reminiscing all, that's done
thirty one million five hundred fifty six thousand nine hundred twenty six seconds, all gone
Circle closes then takes another turn, my dear
Don’t wait, it may be too late, ha de Gött!
I’ve been struggling with the last line and I’m not really satisfied. I like to invite you to come up with another last line. Thank you in advance.
Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas.
You don’t have to believe the story, but you can live by the message. Ha de Gött!
The beholder
looking the same way
contemplating
eyewitness
seeing in different ways
processing
What we see is not what we get
if we get what we see
we see what we feel,
– – is right – –
Don’t be left, try to look the right way. Ha de Gött!
The world is full of boxed in people constipated in their four wheel containers in endless bumper to bumper lanes rubbing shoulders with underground strangers rich and fame like an Instagram post cardboard poor as a news flash in the gutter hollow eyes rushing to lock themselves in afraid to be a wrapped give away by a white bearded man on boxing day
Keep your box open and let life in, ha de Gött!
Land of Feel-Sorry-for-Yourself
a place to put you down
beat your ego up
Low Self Esteem for president
besieged by, enemy of you
never ending civil war
army fight call “no use”
stay down for every count
dare not to seek, citizenship
It all starts with the man in the mirror, ha de Gött!
Book full of forgotten things un-remembered issue release daily thick as the book of what-if's pocket size in constant use some miss-use now and then wear it on my shoulders every chapter, dare a read a highly dangerous deed largest book in the library that is my brain the book of oblivion
My memory is good but short, ha de Gött!
some in frequent use pages darkened by hungry fingers 'who done it' tickling the darkest inside us some covered by dust only yellow by age 'who wants to know' fuelling the creative light during long dark nights dark prose in the poetry corner and whiskey stinking PI's comparing their scars silent with millions of words organised in rows and shelfs collective minds peaks and abysses of humanity
Growing up in a broken home in the suburbs, the library was always a safe haven. Still today I get calm entering a library or a book store.
Take care of the libraries, Ha de Gött!
UlleHaddock 