Summer Poems about Nothing

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Sometimes, out of the blue, I feel a terrible yearning for writing poems. My poems are inspired by the Haiku essence, grasping present moments, reflections, and moods. Sometimes I condense them in one or two tweets. I mostly write in English, German, and Catalan, depending on topic, and mood. Below I include the original Twitter URLs.

Who am I?

Who am I?
The most important question,
the most ignored.
Are we our Goals,
our Possessions,
our Thoughts?
We kill each other,
rob each other,
cheat each other
for our Goals,
our Possessions,
our Thoughts!
The wise people keep saying,
we’re none of that.
We keep giving a shit.

What if I give it a chance,
for a spell?
The magic spell
that’s now,
that shows me
that grey, tiny shrew
with its lopsided,
dainty paws
crossing the grass
while I’m jogging,
while I was missing,
thinking,
scheming,
trapped in my mind.
What if I give it a chance,
to be?

And if I do,
oh if I do!
Then I’m unbeatable!

When I find who I am,
I’ll welcome thoughts,
when they make sense,
I’ll work for possessions,
to sustain body and mind,
I’ll welcome goals,
in harmony with all,
I’ll feel what I feel,
greed, tenderness, sadness?
No guilt, no judgement, no regrets,
I’ll feel it all,
and let go.

New day

New day,
born again.
What was yesterday?
Just another me.
Similar body,
similar news,
similar cycles,
fully new chances.
Dreams remain,
not to be discussed
with fools.
Old me calls for attention,
tempts me to submit.
Will I?
I picture innocence
in the horizon.
The freedom.

Wer bin ich?

Wer bin ich?
Die, die ihr gut erzogen habt,
die ihr als Mitarbeiterin braucht,
die ihr als Freundin wollt?

Ihr wollt nicht wirklich mich.
In mir wollt ihr Euch selbst sehen.

Ich bin die, die sich selber sucht
und schulde nur mir selbst was.

On ets, saviesa ecològica?

On ets, saviesa ecològica?
Bé que et coneixem en innocència,
de quan erem joves com a espècie.
Perduda i adormida en el cor,
t’hem de retrobar aviat!
Altrament, fins i tot els arbres fotaran el camp!
Podeu imaginar la solitud infinita?
Éssers humans envoltats de metall,
High Tech i malesa,
sense cant d’ocells,
sense brum d’abelles,
sense ombra d’arbres centenaris.
Imagineu-vos el buit,
la impossibilitat.

Joggen im Wald

Joggen im Wald,
das Vergnügen,
das trockene Laub
zu zertrampeln,
köstliches Geräusch.

Jogging in the woods,
dry fallen leaves,
a pleasure to trample them down,
exquisite noise.

Perché moriamo?

Perché moriamo?
Perché viviamo!
Perché viviamo?
Non lo so.
Cosa voglio dire?
Che nessuno lo sa!
Siamo stati creati?
Non credo sia così.
Siamo stati evoluti?
Veramente.
Una cosa è chiara:
Gli animali sono meglio
che gli umani.
Quasi tuti gli umani
sono stronzi,
anche tu e io.

If I were you, I’d be god

If I were you,
I would.
If I were you,
I could.
Why don’t you?
You should.
Why won’t you?
You could!
This you shouldn’t,
this you should.
Now do this,
never that.
Now say this,
never that.
How easy it is
to do better than you,
to be brilliant as “you”,
being me,
far from you.

Chances and pain

I hated that business dinner,
met an old friend on my way home.
Bewitching open air concert,
the worst cold of my life.
I didn’t get that dream job,
went for revolution and poetry.
We had the crisis of our lives,
wisdom and trust when the waters calmed.
Chances, pain and hope.

Ganes orades de llengua

Si més no ens queda la llengua,
si no ens la deixem matar.
M’agafen unes ganes orades
d’escriure pel present,
i pel futur
i deixar-me inspirar
per paraules mai apreses,
oblidades,
menystingudes per la pressa
i la desgana internetitzada.

Bodhisattva, take me by the hand

If I feel frustrated,
or my world is falling into pieces,
I take my magic wand.
I sit down with crossed legs,
let gravity hold me down to earth,
do nothing except sinking down,
feeling the twitches of my body,
the gargling of my belly.
I let go of expecting anything.

When I’m ready I get up slowly,
bowing to myself, and the universe.
I hear a tinkling from my cell phone,
my demons, devils, and dragons
left me an encrypted Telegram:
“We went to terrorize
and mob somewhere else,
you’re so boring…”
I then enjoy a few hours of peace.

Die Linde lacht sich kaputt

Wenn alles im Arsch zu sein scheint,
frage ich die Linde im Bs Garten
neben dieser hässlichen
Verkehrsstraße in HD.
Seit Hunderten von Jahren ist sie da,
prächtig grün, tief geerdet, voller Leben.
Ich erzähle ihr meine Ängste,
sie lacht über meinen Mangel Vertrauen.

Danses d’electrons en taulers de billar

Si li demanes a un electró
amb confiança i amor
que vagi al capdamunt de l’univers
en 1 segon,
algun dia ho farà,
i t’enviarà un petó.
Si el fiques a una caixeta
de dimensions h
i li demanes explicacions,
no el trobaràs mai.

Innocence

A glint in the eyes,
holding a myriad of treasures,
that’s how, you, child meet the world,
lost in daily spells,
in awe and delight.
You don’t know yet
that you must behave,
you don’t know yet
about good or bad,
about X, or Y.
I envy you,
cause you still don’t,
you only want!

Verschlüsselte Botschaften

Amsel und Hausrotschwänze sind zurück.
Die Rotschwänze haben wieder ein Nest
auf dem Balkon gebaut.
Die großen braunen Spinnen
sind auch da.
Ich finde sie ekelhaft.
Sie mich sehr wahrscheinlich auch.
Trotzdem habe ich eine grad
durchs Fenster in die Freiheit gerettet.
Frühling.

I’m mad at…

I’m mad at you,
you’re mad at me.
I have reasons,
you have reasons.
I’m right, I say.
I’m right, you say.
We look at our broken shards,
for we can’t look
in each other’s eyes.
We’d rather shout,
we’d rather cry,
we stay polite.
We hush,
resent,
hold,
freeze.
We can’t let go.

Is it you,
I’m mad at?
My lover?
My husband?
My friend?
Is it that rotten system
I’m mad at?
The greed?
The corruption?
The stupidity?
The emptiness?
Is it really YOU or THAT,
I’m mad at?
Or is it the pain I feel,
what I’m mad at?
My helplessness,
my tininess,
my nothingness.

Language: Gift and Curse

We go for a walk,
and we talk,
we meet for dinner,
and we chat,
we small talk,
out of fear,
to be no one,
we set-up facts,
to build rich stories,
we look around,
and cannot shut up.
Human language,
gift from heaven,
curse from hell.

Silence in awe,
in belonging,
in company,
walking,
eating,
doing,
watching,
stare at that funny twig,
see that reddish UFOish Mars,
hear the mystical city birds,
harken to the rattlesnake call of the magpie,
sniff around,
take in the scent,
take up the matter of things.

A la Casta ñ

Galifardeus,
gamarusos,
bandarres enfaristolats,
curulls de mala bava,
no parareu mai
de tocar la pera
a gent de pau,
però nosaltres seguim.

L’origen de Torraperes

Sóc de Can Fanga,
d’on venen els Kamakus,
gata esquerpa de ciutat,
xirucaire ecologista al cor,
de m’amiga Berguedana,
mudada als estels fa temps,
vaig aprendre a tocar la pera,
tant lloable com tocar pebrots.

Desapareixo i em perdo el guirigall

Desperto de matinada,
remor sorda de rera fons,
com de riera cuitosa,
cotxes a la B3 de Heidelberg,
tanmateix torraperes,
torno a endormiscar-me,
desapareixo una estona,
deixo el timó al subconscient,
altres en diuen déu,
l’origen,
la font,
em perdo el guirigall dels ocells.

Ich löse mich auf
und verpasse das Tohuwabohu.

Frühmorgens,
Heidelberg,
ich wache auf,
stumme Geräusche,
wie rasches Bachwasser,
Autos auf der B3,
dennoch beknackt,
schlafe wieder ein,
löse mich auf,
überlasse das Ruder
dem Unterbewusstsein,
andere nennen es Gott,
Ursprung,
Quelle,
verpasse das Tohuwabohu der Vögel.

UFOs in der Nacht

Gestern Nacht,
schlaflos im Bett,
heisser Tag,
offenes Fenster,
Durst nach Brise,
fast voll Mond,
sehe Dich im Osten,
niedrig am Himmel,
gelbrot leuchtend
wie 4 Mal Jupiter,
bist du wirklich Mars?
was Besonderes,
alle 15 Jahre,
heute Mondfinsternis.

What is pureness?

What is holiness?
Pure goodness?
Pure unity?
Pure bliss?
What is pureness?
No doubts?
No knots?
No holes?
No stitches?
True symmetry?
True void?
No reality?
What is reality?
Pleasure bits,
Loaves of pain,
Deep ambivalence,
Rough edges,
Life in shades,
Pure diversity,
Pure walk.

Für S in den Sternen

Dein magischer Körper
hat Deinen hellen Geist
fast 6 Jahrzehnte begleitet,
ohne Arme und mit zierlichen Beinen
hast du alles geschafft,
mit Begeisterung gelehrt,
Bleistift im Mund getippt,
mit den Schultern gekocht,
Dein müdes Herz wurde Licht,
wir finden Dich in der Nacht.

Can I feel what I feel?

I feel what I feel,
if I let it be,
I think what I think,
in the tide of culture,
I say what I say,
often afraid,
of what they’ll say,
I do what I do,
if I care to,
no full harmony,
no full peace,
lot of pain,
that’s what it means,
to be fully me,
away from paradise.

Animal creatures

When I was an animal creature,
just coming out of paradise,
I felt lust, fear, and grief,
like any other beast.
I used my brain to build tools,
get food, lit a fire.
Then I started to feed the snake,
creeping out of my brain:
Deep loneliness and misery
of grasping myself.

What’s my role in the world
as an animal creature
with the shady privilege
of grasping myself?
Build machines
to evade nature?
Try artful ways
to rule over people?
Click, order, and swell,
ignoring pervasive misery?
Shut up, look around,
and stop craving for more?

Schmetterlinge auf dem Weg

Schmetterlinge auf dem Weg,
geräuschlos flatternd,
geräuschlos sterbend.
In Paaren, Scharen und allein,
Weiß, zitronengelb und rot.
Scheu und unbeweglich
bleibst du hübscher,
wenn mein Schatten Dich umringt.
Wenn ich Deinen Namen
rufen könnte,
wüsste ich auch nichts über Dich.

Estelada: Símbol de llibertat

Tenim l’estelada penjada
a la finestra del pis de Heidelberg
des de fa un parell d’anys.
De vegades es veu molt clara,
d’altres s’enrotlla amb el vent
i només s’intueix.
La deixem fer.
Per mi l’estelada
no representa un territori,
sinò un projecte de llibertat.

Llufes màgiques Catalanes

És cert que ens abaixem pantalons
i calces sovint envers l’imperi ñ,
però no menystinguem el potencial
de les nostres llufes màgiques
llençades com a míssils
a les seves carones franquistes
amb tota la força dels
nostres ventres ferms.
Amb el cul enlaire,
al vent de la llibertat!

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