I have written some poems while painting.
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Are these boats carrying me?
In the headwind in new weather,
reaching a rocky beach.
Fulfilled expectations.
Yet here and yet free.
Invisible threads behind the back.
Going and coming in pain.
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The sea flows between our hands and
the shadow of the cool ironing will last for a long time.
In silence, we are waiting for the start of a new day,
does not greet, does not ask “how are you?”.
Anxiety of anticipation under the pale sky,
a red disc rising directly from the sea,
from an infinite water tank,
freezing for a moment.
As if thinking about the day ahead.
Where should I go?
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We wander and travel,
discovering both the world, each other and
unknown islands.
Thirst for the world and each other,
drives us to drink a full of large sea salti water.
It fills our cupes and
it calms our minds so that we can
be more our own.
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You know there’s a wave coming,
which washes you clean.
You know the water is rising.
Up to the ankle, up to the hips and
you are already completely in the water.
Swim, just swim…
His mood goes down too.
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The serfs of the goings fall
the prisoner himself.
All that remains are the waiters,
hands everyday blue.
Constant fog lasting until spring.
There’s no way to go,
Every pull of a paddle is more strongly entangled in despair and what never comes…
We drink under the morning arc
steaming coffee from day-waiting bunners,
sunny smiles on the lips.
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The sea sends me its foamy messages,
I read them quietly and respectfully,
holding your breath,
Pain and freedom in an intertwined universe,
self-recognition.
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The bells are ringing, but my ears are still rumbles.
The undercurrent shakes through the dark night.
I give my hand and dive into the dark river.
The rivers join the sea.
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The dark blood of the explorers
raises my head, in my veins as well.
I name my islands myself.
I will build the paths myself and dig piles into the ground.
Reaching the islands,
reaching you
I’ll get home.
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Thoughts rush between the islands,
frothing up new heights.
I stroke his restless nature and he is already leveling.
The lighthouse blinks and we know that
no storm will rise tonight.
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In the desert I dream of water,
scorching sand in the sea.
How do I find the right direction,
than a thousand stars in all
want to guide me?
Red spicy wine
flows directly into my heart.
Tunnel of my feelings is full
overspeeding drivers in the late evening.
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Rain pours everything over with the color spectrum blue tones,
making you to the hair roots melancholy.
Stepping into the puddles, shakes my sea,
rock wrapping euphoria.
At night hits me
apocalyptic world peace,
I have my feet down
and l fit in your arms.
