#163 (a manifesto deconstructed)

a manifesto


throwing stones

and picking bones

violence rests

in the undertones

beneath the surface

grey and black

destroy, destroy

and don’t look back

the struggles bind

as love goes blind

deep tales of terror

rule my mind


10th July 2017



#136 (two pennies)

the final blow

left a mark

a narrative of white lines

on my forehead

between my temples

a river of agony

constantly flowing

spreading through my spine

the first line

the one I forgot to write

is haunting me

ever since

the thick blanket

of amnesia

clubbing my verse

to death and beyond

my tale has grown restless

no tears left to shed

no fucks left to give

just two pennies

one for the ferryman

one for a last drink

I think

29th April 2017

#106 (there is a whole in the world)

photo credit: Matthias Geh

a husk

that used to be

mother, grandmother, sister

disguised under paper and frill

the face of death is not pretty

so we build masks

out of chores

and rituals

trying to fill them with meaning

though they only distract us

from feeling the pain

there is a whole in the world

whenever someone crosses

their hands behind their backs

the turkish fairy tales

you used to read me

until I could read them myself

never standing still

always buzzing around

defying frail bones

and a weak heart

for eighty-eight years

until you’ve used up

all the time

and your thread is being

tied elsewhere

*6th January 2017

#104 (thistles around a bruised heart)

photo credit: Matthias Geh


he had grown

around a bruised



pricking soft flesh

scarlet streams

running wild


stamping black holes

into grey matter

blissful denial

ends suffering


looming between sparks

of firing neurons

the ghost of a memory

like a lingering scent

of lost lavender

*4th January 2017