For quite a while a stentorian voice was on the air rebounding a weird song. It was reverberating from the debths of an unfathomable darkness. Come-be-with-me was penetrating into the ears of the addressee, but she was unwilling to listen...
The voice went on echoeing in convulsions, feel-me-feel-me-all-over. Nonchalant to the voice’s vigorous friggings, she was walking with the wind in her hair. Little she knew of a male voice so supplicating. Come-be-with-me-come-my-love. The discharge of the agony in the tone was the moonlight serenade accompanied by the caprices of the wind. Babe-come-back, the voice recoiled in adagio grazioso. Stop, you selfish brute! The woman bemoaned with all the sternness of expression.
Sel-fish in the dish Always the same menu It makes me sick
She confided her trouble to the sea. A gradually growing hysteria was suffocating her being. The now over-powering, inquisitive voice of male dominance was demanding surrender. A salty wind was licking her lips. She was suffering from an unquenchable thirst. She wetted her parched lips; the dainty cracks were giving her pain. The stiffening effect of the sea was on her flesh. A chilly gale from the Mount of Venus frothed the sea. The woman was deluged with a sudden gust of wind. It went inside her through the rosy opening of her bosom. Her dignity of carriage cracked. A harsh blow split her jacket, succoured the woman in distress.
The wind was whistling a hard rock rhythm, was pinching her skin, wandering over her moss-like curls. The voice was inviting her to a mesmerizing mock dance. It was trying to capture her whole existence. I-want-all-of-you-body-and-soul...
She had always been happy with her disintegrity, with her solo dancing adjusted to her own whims, quick or slow steps according to her seismic desires. Her unruly movements always denied the dictates of the established authority. She took it as an assault to her freedom. In the skyscrapers erected on the Earth, she had always sensed the same nauseating phallic representation of power against the womb. As unprotected as she was, the female was the elusively idealised object. The male voice now husky with gamahuche, was raping her womanhood. She was a prey of rules, a puppet dancer reigned by the male...
No-woman-without-a man-no-man-without-a woman...The splitting voice was singing incessantly; the covetous wind was cooing, bobbing, doodling her relentlessly. Her soul robbed by the vastness of nothingness, she walked away with her frustrated gait on the desert. A cock was crowing somewhere, nowhere. She couldn’t hear...
With the walls lined with photographs of the past My house looks like a restaurant There memories come to dine
Shots taken at family meetings Relatives smiling with greetings My fat uncle liquor drinking My crying mother at my brother’s wedding My father always missing
I squint hard at the photos I discover once more How much my sister looks like Marilyn Monroe I look like Liz Taylor
Let’s launch into love stories Equal to those of movie queens
Now one can see my eyes riverting To the mushy look that love drunks have Happiness sadness are all bursting inside them
My German lover’s eyes glare into mine I have the power to manipulate his emotions We’re running to each other in slow motion But an evil power strikes my Arnold Schwarz With an hideous locomotion He dies of an instant attack Then and there my heart cracks
I want to draw the film backwards Blossomed anew every night My passions give me delight Who cares if Arnold is dead Robert can substitute him instead
With the lush dance music without a break It’s delightful to wrestle with them both Once Arnold once Robert on top Seduced by sneaky tectonic tunes
Each night I let them slip out of images of fumes To enjoy the amorous movies on the walls Like the odd figures of Andy Warhol We poke our heads into the night
Shining with sweat With that thread When the night gets old All three of us get cold With exhaustion No decent movie ever showed...
Shy and scared Why are you Aren’t you a dandy Drinker of brandy
I’m aloof under my roof Things with me aren’t smooth I have only vague expectations My bearing is the proof
You’re cunningly smart You’re aiming with a dart At your double in Cupid’s heart
It’s a she Looking like a B Let Bygones Be Bygones That’s you in me
Me in you It’s a nu Number one foe Better than a friend In the world of ceo
In the patrician way you go Let me eat your mango As erudite as you are Teach me how to beat a kangaroo
In an ivory tower I grew Let’s have together the brew Don’t ask me of things beyond my can Then you’ll write twice Taming of the shrewd
You in me is a blue eyed teacher Me in you can be a dark eyed traitor How candid you teach me to be I’ll always be Voltaire’s Candide In the search of eternal irony
Me in you is a discreet pony You in me is a wordy hubby Let’s have an ambiguous hobby Like exchanging you and me With money...
His piercing glance on the secrets of my heart I fixed on him my fascinating eyes We both blushed as challenging reminds I said I jilted you too with triumph You too! He repeated with a feverish rage In my notebook I’ll tear your page He thought only he had the right to betray He demanded my head on a tray Instead I killed him with a dagger So much the better Better than suffering for love Forever with hate fire dancing in our faces And making other loving hearts Go bumpity-bump with false graces...
I was the ghost of opera He was the dracula I had my half face covered He had his teeth doubled I had in my eye socket a marble He invited me to his castle There danced white faced witches They wore their make-ups awarded With Grammies I sang my song with my ghost Grannies Dracula turned us all into ravens We flew into Edgar Allan Poe’s Ghost Stories We too wrote one on dracula’s Sleeping corpse I, the ghost of opera composed A Halloween Song
We drank wine in Cindirella’s glass shoe Dracula drank my blood in the next zoo I had his canines on my neck He had my marble eye in the snake
Luckily he was bitten So I was ridden to another Halloween Party...
Love-trifles in my ear I passed a window screen in a dream There stood two mannequins And I stood dormant with wonder Those were me and my lover In vogue suits of Versace In cuore amore We were still simple people in that guise Happiest to live love’s poetical phase The most comfortable in blue jeans And looking our best Our love was in exhibition But our delight was not too bright
Then I woke into reality I walked with my newly found morality That love needed sometimes new strategy
So I kissed my lover on the street Under the scrutinizing eyes of passers by Openly teased My lover’s hands on my hips...
...and then
Wizards touch the body Fairies kiss the mouth Witches dance with fury Elves run with glory
Then love portals discuss Which letter fits best Between s and x ardently
Love-trifles in my ear I passed a window screen in a dream There stood two mannequins And I stood dormant with wonder Those were me and my lover In vogue suits of Versace In cuore amore We were still simple people in that guise Happiest to live love’s poetical phase The most comfortable in blue jeans And looking our best Our love was in exhibition But our delight was not too bright
Then I woke into reality I walked with my newly found morality That love needed sometimes new strategy
So I kissed my lover on the street Under the scrutinizing eyes of passers by Openly teased My lover's hands on my hips...
Why and What are put in the womb Where wantons kept room Warum asked a German Wie added a burgman Wolves ate the W kingdom Witches started fire crying ummm Winds separated bride and groom Whoopee Whoredom won the prize of heirloom Wageslaves walked with boredom Why are we here asked some of them What do you say ginned up the leader of doom Where are you leading us cried histerically Walleyed women Who do you think you are wench Wrapped the chief in amusement What we are you don’t know yet Wreathed in smiles the whole lot of waussie Walking talking Wriggling diggling Worst Ended all the whimpering Worked out by whatever Woman is now working a door Willie’s working a flanker
Weary With the Wind Written off with W’s Why aren’t we all celebrating Wizard the Bacchanalia Whoever Whatever We Are Wasted with whisky (w)ambrosia?
I am blind when I truelly love What is truth absolute or changeable I cry So with every lover one aspect of truth I deny What is left is not so hard to tell
Change the absolute and get rid of the hell True love is changeless My heart is loveless I put love and trust into a shell
I burn them by alchemy Then I get the rebel That is I have to have two lovers One will I trust One will I love Without repel
Copper as output lies In the death knell God is one letter short Gold spell Which is the absolute Good Love and trust the girl in the red hood
Truth is always changeable Even more changeable than falsehood...
Eğitim ve öğretime çok değer veren bir aileden geliyorum. Sanırım bu nedenle okul yaşamından bir türlü kopamadım. Önce mühendis oldum, bir süre çalıştım, sonra edebiyat okumaya karar verdim, diplomalı edebiyatçı oldum. İşin ustası olayım dedim, ustalık diploması aldım. Baktım pek karın doyurmuyor bari bir de öğretmenlik sertifikası alayım dedim, aldım. Çocuklarla uğraşmanın ne denli zor birşey olduğunu anladım. Bari kendimle uğraşayım dedim, yazarlıkta karar kıldım ama ileride hangi meraklarımın peşine düşeceğimi henüz bilmiyorum, belki paranın peşinde koşarım artık, zamanı geldi...
