SchWeinWelten.DE

snout = small lighthouse,blinking in green weather.raspberry thunder on the cheek,pencil-scratch constellations.oink is a doorbell—ding—no,it’s a metronome chewing clover.ear like a folded map to nowhere;we arrive exactly there.two moon-windows for breathing,both whisper: “mud is philosophy.”I staple a cloud to the horizon,the horizon giggles pink.Rührgerät of dreams: whirr-whirr-oink,colors spill out and… read more – weiterlesen Pigment Oink (English)

Excerpt:Worship me gently, for I am mostly pigment. H2: The Chromatic Prayer Blue hums behind me like eternity on casual Friday.Pink radiates gossip and grace.My eyes — two orbits of possible wisdom.My snout — a double halo of curiosity.Ich bin Schwein und Sakrament,die Heilige des Alltagsabsurden. H3: Litany of Colour… read more – weiterlesen The Icon of Oink

Excerpt:I am what remains when the noise decides to rest. H2: The Shape of Quiet Everything here moves slowly.Pink folds into pink,light leans forward and forgets its edges.I am not drawn — I am exhaled.Ich bin Schwein im Zustand des Atems. H3: Snout as Memory Two circles, soft as forgiveness.They… read more – weiterlesen The Whisper Pig

Excerpt:I am 70% atmosphere, 30% intuition. H2: The Forecast Expect scattered thoughts,a chance of revelation,and brief but intense moments of oink.My snout predicts light rain in magenta,with sunshine in the margins.Ich bin Schwein im Aggregatzustand des Frühlings. H3: Color Dialogue Yellow: I am optimism, freshly sharpened.Green: I am envy pretending… read more – weiterlesen The Pig Made of Weather

Excerpt:Knowledge smells faintly of mud and graphite. H2: Prelude in Pencil and Patience I was drawn slowly —the artist paused often, maybe thinking, maybe doubting.Each line found me piece by piece,like a rumour of form.Now I sit, saturated in soft oranges and possible meanings.Ich bin das Nachdenken mit Ohren. H3:… read more – weiterlesen The Pig Who Knew Too Much

Excerpt:I am not blushing. The world is. H2: Statement from the Center of Color Red stands behind me like a secret I already told.Pink hums the melody of defiance.The lines tremble, but I do not.Ich bin Schwein, therefore I stare.Every glance an oink in disguise. H3: Monologue in Crimson I… read more – weiterlesen The Red-Background Pig

Excerpt:We are both half full and pretending otherwise. H2: First Sip Color pours before thought.Red settles like memory.Somewhere in the background,a pig exhales philosophy through a pink horizon.I swirl existence — it has good legs.Ich taste the present tense. H3: Dialogue Across the Table Pig: You drink what I dream.Glass:… read more – weiterlesen The Pig and the Glass

English 🇬🇧It’s best when everything comes together: ✍️🎶🖼️Texts • Music • Images ⏰ It will soon be that time again!📅 November 14, 2025 — a reading at the Markgräfin-Wilhelmine-Gymnasium featuring texts by my brother StD Matthias Pflaum and our friend, pianist & composer Dr. Marie Alcantara. 🎹📖 ✨ And we… read more – weiterlesen Wenn Alles zusammenkommt! Collaboration with other artists.

Excerpt:The hand forgot control and remembered joy. H2: The Birth of the Scribble No sketch, only pulse.No contour, only consequence.The pen stumbled across the page and invented anatomy by accident.Ich bin Schwein aus Linie,geboren aus Zucken, nicht aus Plan. H3: Dialogue with the Pen Pen: You’re too alive for paper.Pig:… read more – weiterlesen The Pig Written by Lightning

Excerpt: I swim in voltage, I dream in barbecue sauce. H2: Color Rebellion Red shouts, blue answers, green negotiates.I am the argument nobody wins —the geometry of appetite and thunder.My snout is a power socket for surrealism.Ich bin Schwein im Aggregatzustand des Jazz. H3: Dialogue of Elements Fire: You’re too… read more – weiterlesen The Electric Pig of Contradiction

Excerpt:I didn’t wave. I painted the air. H2: First Gesture The hand appears before thought,orange, restless, half apology, half prophecy.Green sleeve — a patch of reason holding chaos by the wrist.Between the fingers, a soft electricity hums:the grammar of touch rewritten in crayon. H3: Dialogue Between Hand and Horizon Hand:… read more – weiterlesen The Hand That Said Maybe

Io, maiale di luce,mi dichiaro innocente e infinito. Non sono carne — sono concetto,un’idea stagionata al sole dell’assurdo.Tra le mie vene scorre jazz e marmellata di pensieri.Parma mi ha dato un nome,DADA mi ha dato un verbo: sfrigolare nell’eternità. Atto I – Il Manifesto della Dolcezza Tagliami pure, ma solo… read more – weiterlesen Difesa DADA del Prosciutto di Parma