mauer im kopf

bricks and the stuff in between
angry fetid turgid bland
_terribly_ uncompromising

the faces though,
as they spread across this myopic sea
wouldn’t dare be caught listless!

it’s been years now
but where do i start
and when am i finished?

your violet trembling peach skin
that recalls drowning for the only second it’s pleasant-
it yearns to tremble for nobody in particular-

how this, banal, unbecoming, disillusioned
is what i’m supposed to yearn for
instead of clean proofs, こもれびー *

i am posed against the monolith of hours
the sapient judge of my worth,
and excuses are, as expected, lacking.

but why supplication to this unimpressed god?
stars, though fragile and constant,
really only seem to exist for half a day.

this room, いらないものだらけだ。**

my head, heavy with syrup that won’t slosh.
my heart, filled as it is, spiteful of a head who wont share all the pancakes it so obviously has.

the valve just shuts off half way through anymore.
i don’t know how to reset the timer or anything.
it’s real fuckin’ annoying.

at least we can have lunch tomorrow.

*-(komorebi – the light which filters through trees)

**-(iranai mono darake da – filled only with things i do not need)

One thought on “mauer im kopf

  1. I always wonder what your poems are about. But they are so elusively written and heavy with metaphor that I’m almost sure that I have no idea, even after coming up with speculations. I find that most of what I think you must be writing about is heavily influenced by what I know of you. I realized while reading this poem that if I didn’t know you, it would be a completely different experience all together. However, your poems always produce the most interesting imagery … which I liken to the way I feel when I have a lucid dream. Which actually inspired me to write a poem on my own site.

    I’m so glad that you’re writing. I have been dying to, but everything I’ve started to write is angry and … well … just sounds like a bad Taylor Swift song.

    I miss you. I miss talking to you.

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