there is nowhere left to go
as I see your colorless fortitude
fade to crumpled bones and worn edges —
leaving you bare & stripped of
all those wonders you wore
like everyday clothing

& Instinct
uproots congeniality – while I
remain guessing at
whatever the fuck you said
in that certain moment
when longing turned to resignation.

may those presumptions crumble
and turn doubt to dust,
never to be cradled again.

Politically (in)correct

is just a metaphor ~
the groomed lump
adorned with fake smile
has long forgotten
how to function;
how it feels
to be human.

shriveled heart in your chest;
if it can be found at all ~
without magnifying glass and tweezers
a fruitless attempt.

my stomach rebels
at the sight of you;
tempted to hurl
your lies
back in your face ~

i suggest
you wear your ass
as a hat
and see if it helps
to improve your image.

The Panda over at RuleOfStupid from the “Three Nuts and a Squirrel Crew” extended the challenge to write a poem of a journey through the human body, using the words bum or colon (i went with “ass” because it’s fun to use!), stomach, chest, heart and head. Somehow I ended up ‘describing’ a certain Politician who shall not be named here… let’s just say I don’t like him all that much. Heh.

Politics’ Little Helpers

lubricated words,
“truth” those are called;
slip easily
into people’s minds…
little worms, wriggling their ways
to set up camp next to synapses,
lay eggs to multiply
admiration and awe,
and make sure
people smile and nod.

are we still
waiting for a Zombie Apocalypse…
or is it
already here?!

Politics?! Not now…

i know,
i do not write enough –
about politics…

i have to admit
when i am here,
in my cozy corner,
i do not want
intrigues and lies
to infiltrate ~
take my soft blanket away,
tear it to shreds
and leave me
cold, helpless
and feeling dumb.

maybe i am
maybe i am
but i reserve the right
to be both ~
because everything
– even this –
is an experience.

photo credits: economicnoise.com


one more lash
targets the bleeding back
skin peels away
to reveal steel underneath

the fiery eyes
burn brighter –
burn with purpose
after each strike
meant to cripple and singe

stumbling through rubble
fighting with
broken teeth and infected nails
as long as feet may carry
as long as spirit prevails

to the end of corruption,
to the dawn
of mankind!

this one is about the Civil War in Syria – following dVerse‘s rebellious call…


the mummers dance
parade and juggle
promise cotton candy, laughter
and the sheep nod in agreement.
a couple of years later
the sheep realize
they never got
the cotton candy
and they didn’t laugh
as much as well.
but of course,
the next mummer’s show
has been announced already…
so the sheep wait,
anticipating ~
their mouths already watering
thinking of cotton candy,
their lips already twitching
expecting promised laughter.