what we really want……….

I see tons of garbage
I see tons of garbage
when will we have enough
we work more and more
we buy more and more
we expect more and more
as soon we have got something,
we are looking for the next
the only thing we really want
is more, more, more, more


trip or goal.

walking restless in the factory district of Hong Kong
people are speeding in their cars, on bikes etc.
where are they going
will they reach their goal
will they reach their dreams
will they understand the goal is nothing
the journey is the real goal



where did you come from?
out of nowhere
we were minding our own business
we were walking in our big selfish bobbles
suddenly a hole was made
and a star was shining so bright
now we are fishing golden moments together
as if life never ends


photos from the mind.
as the sun lightens the heavens
as the shapes of the sky
recalling my child hoods shapes
my words are making waves
they say I was born
somewhere in the universe
I do not remember
now I live in an urban network
I have not forgotten the time
where the light was gone
now I see all the joy
as I smoke my cigar
as I smoke my cigar


fruits from the clouds.

your wonderful hair
your beautyfulcheek bones
your mystic eyes
your sensual hips
you make the pulse of the world beat faster
everything is leaning towards the walls
as the flowers sings
and the ship is sailing towards new adventures


mobile surviving.

no wave can concour
no storm can blow away
no hole is deep enough
the bear will go on picking the wild berries
drinking the life from the rocks
while looking over the big ocean
licking the wounds from the last fight


story of stones.

a stone is a stone
a stone is a stone
it tells a story about hardness
deep inside it has been fragile, very fragile
the softness has now gone
but its story stills remains
deep inside the fire is still burning
the mindwork will never end


talking with plants.

the bamboo’s are waving
in the wind from the words
the painting hides one adventure
as it tells another
nothing will jell
but that way the life of love
stands so much stronger



the seagrass is growing on the bottom
covering old cans and a golden necklace
telling a story about last summer
where everything was fun, laughter and romance
he gave her this token of love
but as the bottles were empty
the demons grew bigger
the words became ugly
the beauty and virgin of summer
were history pure history


summer residence.

the empty house
the empty summer house
a window is banging against its frame
the wind is turning pages of an old diary
telling stories
about joy
about family
about long dinners
about understanding each other
about playing
about heavy books
about childhood
about birth
about death
about life