isn’t my name
and yet I am moved
by the imbecile
gently led by his father
down the street
while screaming songs
at the top of his head
I am moved
by a white cloud
standing still
over the city
like a gentle threat
I am moved
by your breath
gently lifting the sheets
deep in the night
when I can’t sleep
Yes delicate things
move me deeply
and confirm
the rage hidden
at the core of my words
The rage of impotence,
hope and rebellion
– but not despair
Despair, you see,
is too delicate
for me


Bad ear (or I should get a medal for doing this)

My ear is shot
Haven’t slept in two days
and here I am writing
this miserable poem
Is it friendship pushing me
or just poetry’s bad junk
shaking me up and down
and never letting me be?


Anniversarery pome (To my partner in crime, DJ Eldon)

no candles
but fireworks
no explosions
but roman candles
we have written pomes
for one good year now
we are very tired
but our mouths are still
full of spit, tongue, stones
and words
no firecrackers
but live ammo
no funeral pyres
but a feather
of the Phoenix


Another mystery

The white veil of morning
creeps around the house
The birds are black notes
and their song hang frozen
in mid-air
We drink coffee in the kitchen
and I want to tell you something
but your words erase mine
and I forget what I wanted to say
and there is no way you can help me
and we laugh it off and another mouth
replaces my mouth with different words
forming behind the seemingly same teeth
although they are actually a few seconds


Em-ba-ra-ssing (To DJ Nic)

Went to a party last Saturday
and all evening I wondered
if my fly was open because
the zipper was broken or because
I was too stoned to zip it up
Time to quit?
Hell no


Burn all flags

The blue of the sky
crashes through my open window
and a few birds sing
to welcome the first rays
of the sun
Everything is still
except for the millions
of radio waves
spinning around us
like in invisible killer bees
and I say
to the wall
my chair my desk
the open window
the blue sky
the birds and their songs
“Burn all flags”
as flags frame you
in what you are not
and never will be
– a model citizen
a model father
a model nation
a model nature
a model bird
a model sky
a model model
burn all flags
the white one


Peace King

I am the peace king
and I come without banner nor flag
My arms are broken
and my friends have fallen
Will you welcome me
with arrows and fire
or kisses and tears?
I am the peace king
and I have no purpose
but to prove that existence
is nothing but choice
whether you win or not
I am the peace king
and my face is as white
as your rage
I am the peace king
and I am sorry
that I hurt you once
and for all
I am the peace king
and you can very well
chose to ignore me
if you wish
as I will not fight with you
I am the peace king
and I am never wrong
although many wish me to be
because peace
is always
more threatening
than bloodshed
I am the peace king
hail me at my passage
or throw me stones
I love flowers
and stones are my friends
but beware
my visits are scarce
and often go
as I am clear as the wind
dark as a starless night
and fluttering as love promises



The sun rose today
but I missed it
my eyes still blinded
by night and punctuated by stars
The sun rose today
and I didn’t
preferring to ignore
the glorious colors
to the monochrome black
The sun rose today
and I didn’t care
as I embraced
a lovely shadow
slightly smelling
of cinnamon


A clap of thunder

A clap of thunder
in a clear blue sky
or the strange reflection
of something not quite there
are our daily mysteries
so sit down
have a coffee
read the paper
and finally
accept yourself
as the ultimate mystery


Hermosa corona

Hermosa corona
shining high above the clouds
just out of reach of my wanting fingers
Hermosa corona
beautiful face wrapped
in silk and gold
you could be a vision
but your materiality
drags me down
Hermosa corona
if only you could
be a poem
a word an image
and disappear
as soon as
you were pronounced
Hermosa corona
I wish I could could
hold you in my hands
but they are tied
behind my back
and praying won’t help
Hermosa corona
your indifference
is truth
your glitter
and your power
Hermosa corona
I run in circles
after myself
please let me
have you




The re is no mystery
in an open hand
but as we walk
our teeth grow back
into our gums
and our bones
shatter like ice
We try to laugh it off
but a howling wind
comes out of our lungs
and specks of our blood
decorate the sky’s blue cupola
There is no mystery
in an open hand
but the closed fist
hanging over our heads
is following us
like the shadow of something
we knew or thought we knew



Like love
is a potentiality
the coiled steel spring
the flexed muscle
the fluttering of an eyelash
a laughter
gas in the tank
like love
and yourself
a shadow
as faithful
as shadows
can be