#160 (gigantic silverball)

gigantic silverball

watcher over the crowds

the busy and lazy likewise

let them eat cake and fries

shit or mud

your stoic gaze never changes

although you get polished

from time to time

nothing escapes your view

as you silently guard

the marching of the masses

uncaring, ungiving

your cold stare

 piercing my heart


26th June 2017



#123 (kisses to the gutter)

photo credit: Matthias Geh


I shaped a brick

from toxic waste

oozing through the commentary

of a redundant conversation

I tried fitting it into the wall

quietly hoping it would stick

and make it fall

whereabouts unknown

the sea took all its tolls

the fare was measured heavily

fat cats gave birth to trolls

inside the fortress waving

a torchlight made of pain

the ghosts of the forgotten

a silent choir remained

beyond the wires smiling

their faces shone unburned

weaving some propaganda

no page was left unturned

blew kisses to the gutter

and watched them float away

lost words I barely stuttered

in cellars of decay

28th January 2017

#88 (seven stops)

photo credit: Matthias Geh



between disgust

and compassion

watching him sway

and spray

his heavy perfume

of sweat and booze

the girls

with the pigtails

bags full of trash

disguised as dresses


of fake silver

and fake smiles

wrinkling pink noses

not fake


the guy

with the wavy

black mane

changing seats

in a  rush

one hundred and seventy

strokes of the brush

to tame it

and keep it

that shiny

I guess

and still

my brother

always one bottle

to kill

the only thing

he used to remember





his nose

glowed like

Rudolph met Tina

in her usual demeanour

and high as a kite

she was


but bright

*16th December 2016

#82 (murdering moments)

photo credit: Matthias Geh



every single thought

letting them pool

inside their pale

bone cage


circling within

my mindwaves

biting a sudden flash

of inspiration

a dead old moviestar

brought back to life

the blessings of celluloid

a waning dream

I saw fleeing

around the corner

when all the streets

where paved with tears

and the blood of


fed the gutter

bereft of

every single doubt

I drained the mist

of memories

seeing the past

leap into the future

murdering moments

of a vicious


vapid vows

from treacherous lips

all that glitters

is not gold

so I’ve been told

as I throw a promise

into the furnace

of disillusionment

10th December 2016

#69 (dark spots on white cloth)

photo credit: Matthias Geh

eerie calm


by the dense  fog

filling up the city

and my lungs

cold grey particles

leaving a wet

question mark

on an old tree trunk


like everything else

that got lost in the mist

sawn off and discarded

a relic of the emerald age

dark spots on white cloth

sparrows flocking

on the hedges

I smear my heart

across a brick wall

and leave my doubts

at the doorstep

as I step into


*27th November 2016