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Gedicht / Poem The Blade of Sound Vertical slices of a neon sky, Where the chords are sharp and the melodies die. Kafka strings a bow with iron thread, Playing a song for the city of lead. Blue curves dancing on a crimson edge, A musical leap from a jagged ledge. The harp is a cage, the sound is a sting, Listen to the silence that the sharp strings bring. Die Klinge des Klangs Vertikale… read more – weiterlesen Die scharfe Harfe (The Sharp Harp)

Gedicht / Poem The Tardy Trotter The clock is melting, the mud is dry, A magenta shadow under a scribbled sky. Kafka’s postman has no letters to give, Just a pink-stained reason for why we live. It missed the slaughter, it missed the feast, A jagged, beautiful, late-coming beast. The void was waiting, the frame was bare, Until a snout materialized out of the air. Das verspätete Borstenvieh Die Uhr schmilzt weg, der Schlamm ist… read more – weiterlesen Das Schwein, das erst später kam (The Pig That Arrived Later)

Gedicht / Poem The Neon Procession A ribbon of faces, a river of ink, The world is a ship that refused to sink. Kafka’s wanderers, locked in a frame, No one remembers the group’s secret name. Yellow, green, and a ghost of a snout, This is what happens when lights go out. The glory is plastic, the transit is fast, A colorful gang that was built not to last. Die Neon-Prozession Ein Band aus Gesichtern,… read more – weiterlesen So gänga die Gang (Sic transit gloria mundi) (thus the glory of the world passes away – So vergeht der Glanz der Welt)

Gedicht / Poem The Invisible Velvet The gown is a ghost, a silk-woven lie, Beneath the pink chaos, a wide-staring eye. A snout made of echoes, a face of debris, Floating in waves of a peach-colored sea. Kafka’s clerk lost his buttons at night, Now he is circles and flashes of light. The shock is the color, the scream is the shape, From the invisible dressing gown, there is no escape. Der unsichtbare Samt Der… read more – weiterlesen Das schockierte Schwein im Schlafrock (nicht im Bild) (The Shocked Pig in a Dressing Gown (Not Pictured))

Gedicht / Poem The Silent Barker A throat of neon, a chest of clay, He announces the end of the bright-colored day. Three figures standing in a liquid line, Turning the water of logic to wine. Kafka’s usher with no door to show, Just a silhouette where the shadows grow. Step right up to the circus of nought, Where the ticket is sold before it is bought. Der stumme Ausrufer Eine Kehle aus Neon, eine… read more – weiterlesen Der Ansager (The Announcer)

Gedicht / Poem The Prism of Pork A snout hidden in a thousand squares, Reality climbing up technicolor stairs. Kafka’s law is written in mint and red, While the pig dreams of a geometric bed. No lines are straight in this fiscal year, Every color is a silent, painted fear. The butcher is a painter, the knife is a brush, In the world’s loud silence, a colorful hush. Das Prisma des Protoplasmas Ein Rüssel versteckt… read more – weiterlesen Das bunte sehr verklausulierte Schwein (The Colorful and Very Enigmatic Pig)

Gedicht / Poem The Geometric Grunt The sun is a yolk, bleeding on blue, A checkered snout watching the view. Purple shadows of a Kafkaesque night, Grid-locked destiny, fading light. The horizon is a fence, the sky a cell, In the sunset’s glow, all is well? Oink goes the clock, tick goes the meat, The cosmic butcher finds the profile sweet. Der Geometrische Grunz Die Sonne ein Dotter, auf Blau verblutet, Ein karierter Rüssel, der… read more – weiterlesen Schwein im Profil bei Sonnenuntergang (Pig in Profile at Sunset)

Gedicht / Poem The Centrifugal Snout Pink turns to violet, violet to scream, The morning is a spiral, a greasy dream. A thousand eyes in a circle of ham, Locked in the gears of a cosmic jam. Kafka wakes up, his coffee is cold, The snout is the sun, or so we are told. Round and round, the slaughterhouse spin, Where does the morning end and the pig begin? Der Zentrifugale Rüssel Rosa wird violett,… read more – weiterlesen Wieder dreht sich alles um ein Schwein am Morgen (Once again, everything revolves around a pig in the morning)

Gedicht / Poem Chromotherapy of the Void (EN) The snout is a whirlpool of crimson and ink, Too much to swallow, too bright to think. Yellow shards pierce the emerald hide, Nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. Kafka’s clerk is now a kaleidoscope boar, Trapped in a rainbow, a chromatic war. The world is a brushstroke, heavy and thick, A feast for the eyes that makes the soul sick. Farbtherapie des Nichts (DE) Der… read more – weiterlesen Das Schwein, das vor lauter Farbe weder ein noch aus wusste / The Pig That Lost Its Way in a Riot of Colors

Gedicht / Poem The Subterranean Grin (EN) The ticket is a lie, the platform a cage, A kaleidoscopic face erupts in a silent rage. The blue nose sniffs the tracks of destiny, Securing a seat in the carriage of hegemony. Teeth like piano keys play a dissonant song, Where the weak stand still and the clever belong. Oh, Sendlinger Tor! A portal of neon and dust, In the iron bowels of the city, we trust…. read more – weiterlesen Der clevere Passagier sichert sich seinen Platz triumphierend am Sendlinger Tor / The Clever Passenger Triumphantly Secures His Seat at Sendlinger Tor