Independent Ideas On Dating, Modern Life And Solitude

My poetry is sad
a usually melancholic and blunt narrative
that carries a lot of independent ideas on dating, modern life and solitude,
an editor once wrote.

My poetry speaks volumes of the tiny communication crises that begin
With the ring of an early text message on the brink of a Sunday
Where one wants to sleep
And the other only wants to live;

My poetry is terrifying
To those who have yet to re-learn the lost art of staring at the clouds
For long hours;
Lazy hours,
Pale hours
When clouds are in fact the natural thing to happen
Before the lightning strikes
Before the storm ends
Before the sunlight through the flags
Before the beginning;
as natural as the cycles of the moon,
menses,
great expectations
and train crashes;
Where clouds are in fact
The most graceful way to set a feeling free
And watch it burst into thin air
In snowfalls
And small ash flakes
If one is lucky enough to wait through the end -
Even into a rainbow;

My heart belongs to the world
And my poetry is only the means to the end

The world has ended many times for me
And began for another
On the other side of the Earth
If you are a person like me
then you know how
The weather of the planet aligns to
The weather of your emotions.

My poetry is that exact moment when you’re in the kitchen
And you can’t stop crying
But you’re hungry
And angry
Which is ridiculously tragic,
So you butter a slice of toast
And you put that slice of toast on top of the butter box
With the one hand that cannot write and cannot carry
While with your other hand you decide to respond to a gesture of affection from your lover,
But your hands are weak,
So you drop the slice of toast flat on the floor
And you’re crying and laughing all at the same time
But somehow the only thing that matters now is that you’re hungry

And that is indeed
Ridiculously funny.

(32 songs, Berlin, 2019)