ausgang..

huge,vast parks and 'platz'

and brown leaves, no leaves

and vast skies, all the world could fit in this place

beautiful, painfully sometimes

the night close to the wall and the topography of the branches nearby

and a dim light coming from the moon? no, rather the purplish roof of the complex building

a golden aura

and a smirk in her eyes while

the bus to the zoo centre passed her by

and then, the umbrella broke

but her wings protected me--

victory at last came down the pedestal and introduced herself to me..

something is changing

don't know whether it's love

but it's gotta to be what the germans call 'ausgang'

i.e. exit

i.e. way out---free at last

writings on the sand

as if in a dream
a blindfolded woman in a red dress
writing letters and making shapes
on dust or sand
whispering or singing
something like:
'dont take your hand away.it's not that i am feeling anything for you.It's my skin that remembers. Or perhaps it doesn't matter to it,does it?
when i close my eyes you are beautiful. Or hunchbacked if I want it. The privilege of the blind.they drew the better lot in love. they are spared the comedy of circumstances: they see what they want to see. the ideal would be blind and deafmute.the love of stones.'

then opens her eyes, wipes off everything
leaves..next day she will be back as if..

(photo: Duchamp & Man Ray, L'elevage de poussière,

text with extracts from Heiner Muller's Quartet)

'at my back the ruins of Europe'

..i am dreaming of sand and heavy ladders

and plenty of neon lights like those in the tunnel of Frankfurt airport

and the sound of the iron, metal hammer

breaking down the ruins of Europe...

i dream of beautiful laces being burnt

like those that Penelope was making while waiting for Odysseus to return (did he?)

'something is rotten/in this age of hope/

let's delve in earth and blow her at the moon'

and i see the sun setting in the West

over a sea of clouds..while the beautiful couple and their baby are smiling to me

the search begins--'my drama is cancelled'..(H.M)

can the character turn into machine? and how?

2007,this one goes to my blueberry year

‘a blueberry pie is left whole every night;
Why? What’s wrong with the blueberry pie?
Nothing is wrong with the blueberry pie;
it’s just that nobody wants it.’

And so, here we go again..last year I was writing on the very last year of 2006, now I am writing in the first hours of 2008—last year I was writing about fragments and people and places and memories and moments
This year I want to write about my blueberry year, this bitter-sweet taste of a year that lasted two hours less since it started in a home that no longer exists to finish somewhere that is yet to become home and most probably will never become.

wanted to press a button and be home;
my reflection on the windows of south west trains,
sometime before midnight
tasting Guinness;
the 22nd of March, counting stops
knowing that I had to get off-the biggest mistake of the year,
but why regrets now?
Walking in the forest..why didn’t I stay there forever?

And tell you about the tree angel enchanted forest boy who flew across the ocean because he loved you; and I know it’s all over but hang on in for just ten more minutes before you throw me out of your life and forget who I am because it’s beautiful learning to know you and well worth the effort..

The reflection of myself in your eyes
Made me understand who I am—and what I wanna be
And what I will try to become..
And this reflection is not that bad..

Not for what I thought
Bless the universe for a blueberry year
That I was never planning to have
But when I tasted, I found my way to what might this year reveal itself as home…
[a small personal note:

always friends..and I love you

last and only open letter to you-if you ever find your way back to my drifting planets, read this just to find out that what I’ve told you so many times during the year was actually true. something that belonges to the blueberry year that is now over.
(pause..sigh..change the rhythm..)]

remember (you who read this,me who write this)
be generous and grateful for the gift of life..
and make the choice to be there..
here and now

always.
..and so the story continues..

Happy New Year 2008; a year that might not taste like blueberry anymore

and who knows? this might make a difference