my one true

”whaddya ev’n know ’bout it”
rushes to the window
looks to her feet
two for one
or many for nothing

chains hold her
beyond me
I seldom try to carry her load
I possibly can’t
not allowed
to see her bloom

finishing off
gazing lazily at a covered bottom
should have brought wine
but ”why
sugarcoat it
sweet tits”

she hates me
but disallows to show me that
she follows rules
she does her homework
On a chair
undressed and fastened.

her eyes different colors
hair oriental
skin type uncommon
and a feel I get
she is going where she’s meant to

the Gods must be angry with her
she is taking a lot in
can’t jump into
an ”average” life
it never was thus

I finally come
she hasn’t moved

but in my head she came with me
soft spoken
covered in potential me’s
warm and well-read
I even imagine
having feelings, bills.

Wipe my thighs
our eyes meet
how can one be so shy
of a momentous
one inch punch style
historical defeat

I swallow her rear with my gaze
I could go again
if she’d let me

time – space reality

starting with the conclusion
write! write! write!
or be silent

show discipline
or stay stagnant
the effort is so effortless
so pointless
so pointed

to an idea
of resurrection
of the dead spirits
that lie within
and recognize each other
all at once

”Oh hey”
they say
in a non-vocabular language
”good to acknowledge you”

loss of time and space
the ultimate

best times begin

they say youth is to be treasured
but how can you
when you haven’t yet had
anything else
to compare it with

broad shouldered wise-men
shut up and glare
when they see fresh meat

they meant youth is what they treasure when old
when you lose it
but I will keep it
on these pages
in my diaries

I am youth
my heart a phoenix
as I delete my past
and become someone new

This is day one for me.
The only day I will live
Don’t by-stand
I don’t want to be admired
I only travel for truth
and to be of service

I am multidimensional
in a body of a woman
and I love that vessel
and the creativity of the life force

But I would much rather
be a soul now
Not a subject
Of fantasies
But real – solid –
Game changer

So I begin
Thank you


My friendship with myself
Is so
It lights up my room
Sets my hair on fire
And I just watch
So bloody content
with myself

One could think it’s narcissistic
But I just like my dirty sheets
and my comfy socks
More than the uncomfort
Of outside space
Yes, interaction can be succulent too
But self-love is both
the giver and receiver
I am everything in a monologued
Love affair

Hot on a tin roof
Back home
In my Earth shaped heart
Rocking my feet up and down
The azure sky

I kiss myself
I laugh at that too
It’s like I’m a self obsessed schizo
And neither of us
Have ever felt a love
So true

short but bloated or tall but empty

Last poem was shit
took it off
To do work so bad
not sure if
quality over
quantity though
a lot is good
diversity good
space for mistakes yes
growth too
judgement is over
I’m no Bukowski
I can’t chain myself
To a way I should be
I’m just going to be
Whether I feel like it or not
I am free, I am free