THE SAD THINGS POETRY PROJECT

2026-09-26T17:22:24.608-04:00

Das Leben liebt mich nicht? Ich liebe das Leben!

Walking slowly, to the end of the day.

Where the sun is to lay down – in the street’s olden stones.

I force my eyes - looking into the light. But fail see end.

I love the sun

The sun loves me not.

The sun is too distant.

So close yet far away.

I’ve walked the earth. The earth ate of my flesh.

I gave flesh unwilling - but what could’ve I done…

My life has been better - than most could’ve tell.

I love my life

Life loves me not.

I love this love

But love – loves me not.

This road and the walking… The sun, then the moon…

Then ends. The beginnings… Me moving – ahead?

Was I walking back all this time? Was I frozen – in time?

And “a rose is a rose is a rose”…

But - no more.

Love such overwhelming

Overwhelms me no more.

And I’m still walking. Can’t stop to be resting.

As rest isn’t stopping - to stop isn’t end.

End might be beginning but stopping might be not.

Obstetrical forceps

2026-07-14T18:42:00.834-04:00

It was that day

The one I got pulled out.

Pulled out into the cold.

Out into the neon light.

Was I alive?

Or was I still not?

As I was silent...

With no first rook.

Ah.. the umbilical

Around my neck.

What the fuck!?

And why?

I guess it wasn't written

By the Hand...Above.

It does not matter - my own is writing

Here, now.

The mirror man - Flamenco

2026-07-14T18:12:06.379-04:00

Crazy, fiery, burning.

The guitar that is screaming,

that is singing, that is banging... On me.

I want you to come dance. Love.

I want to dance. Love. Passion, not!

Burning Sun. Ahh... Yes. I now jump. On!

You now jump.

We both land.

And that mad flamenco,

That Never stops.

The first Love. The first burn.

Poison. Not.

Remedy.

Dance my love.

Dance my legs.

Like there's no day,

There is no night .

No life. Only light...

That burns me

And burns you -

We are ... reborn.

Ole!

Fighting Monsters (all day long)

2022-01-14T21:54:00.001-05:00

**Fighting Monsters

-An meinen Vater Friedrich mit Dank-

When an abyss gazes long into you,

You gaze also into the abyss.

And no poem can describe it,

Nor song can sing it out.

And, no vison can envision,

No sane thought can here survive.

No feeling can be born in here,

No feeling dies in the abys.

And when you fight the monsters,

The monsters feast on your brain.

You are the story at the moment

The moment ends inside of you.

The only way to leave the stage is –

Torch it, leap, and...you’re in. And out

– outside the abyss.

As it is you, and you are the abyss.

You, the monsters, and the fight

In all time, all dimensions - omnipresent

Here, There, Nonexistent even so.

It’s every story. And the story of them all.

It's a story never spoken.

It was, it is…

It’s always what will ever be.

The Window (In anxiety)

2018-02-18T17:22:00.005-05:00

Anxiety is nothing but a window.

Into the building that I am.

I build and then demolish -

Every night and every day.

Constantly I look

into that window.

Reflections only -

That is what I see.

And when again

I am in turmoil,

I look again
but still don’t see…

I see no logic,

Nor a reason

For what I do

And how I feel...

I feel again -
"This is not perfect!"

Keep still
Destroy... rebuild...

Round Two (Grounded)

2017-11-23T09:57:00.000-05:00

I belong here down -

Down on the ground,

Into the mud

Soaked with our blood

I'm part of the screams,

And part of the dreams,

The crowd that awaits,

And screams at the gates

The pumping veins

The crazy eyes

The stench of the beer

The dirt and the smears

Here, now we start

The bloody bath

The first rapid kicks

A jab, in the lips

I'm punching your face

You kicked in my waist

Blood trickling brow

Dislocated jaw..

First round is done

But I am not done.

Gong! Second round -
We are back on the ground.

Victors And Losers

2017-10-30T16:02:00.002-04:00

Dream a little,
Or dream a lot.
Question not -
Believe a lot.

Listen!
Pay Attention!
Or pay attention not.
All that matters. Not.

When we say it -
You comply!
When we ask you -
You will serve.

"Helmets on!"
"And armor up!"
"Wall formation!"
"March! Forward!"

Act, don't think.
And don't you feel it.
We think and pay -
So, you don't think .

It's exceptionally simple -
No middle way,
No middle ground.
It's them, or it is us.

As victors only
Tell the story
Of how the history
Was made.

2025 (Daily Resets)

2017-10-11T11:43:00.001-04:00

Daily savoring

Well rapped, big portions

Of an authenticity divested life.

Weak up,

Unwrap!

Consume!

Enjoy it all!

Mediums that are The message,

Mediocre, buzzing fruit flies...

Gurus of the replicating daily trends.

"Good morning citizens!"

"We hope you had a good sleep!"

"Line up behind the red line now!"

"Relax...

And inhale deeply!"

"Everything is gonna be Okay!"

"Put on your designated googles"

"We begin transmission

in three, two, one..."

Reset!

Three haiku

2017-02-15T17:08:00.001-05:00

Ménage à trois

Into the scull entrapped,

is my brain.

The pain is dancing there too.

Instantly disturbed meditation

Sudden hiss into the grass.

Overtaken by a spear:

The fawn shrieked.

For whom this bell tolls

A bell’s tolling:

The sound’s melting,

into the village’s busy buzz.

Dreaming Someone Else’s Dream

2016-10-28T22:01:00.001-04:00

I look up and I see

Buildings in the sky.

Elegant, immovable but... hanging.

Strangely weightless,
Strangely so concrete.

A city in the sky,

It is adorned with strange,
Symbolic statements

Unrecognizable and
Unfathomable to me.

And yet familiar detail
I just spot it...
In this reality unknown.

In equal patterns,

As part of the façade,

Are planted cameras -
The all-seeing eyes.

Unmovable, all powerful,

All-knowing, incapacitating,

The cameras are known to me,

Familiar, too real.

Now it is not so strange.

I realize I'm dreaming...

I know now, I am dreaming…

The dreams of somebody else.

Someone, somebody
Who is also sleeping
In the future,

Into another realm.

A future not so distant now.

And in this future,

In this dream, to me bizarrely
The feelings now... so real.

Darkest Coffee

2016-09-13T22:08:00.002-04:00

In the palace
into my mind built castle,
In a marble walled,
Marble floored one spot Cafe

Heavy heart and,
Heavy minded,
I walk inside,

To have another cup of coffee black.

Walking slowly,
On the chess board black
And white tiled floor,
I then approach, slowly siting down...

The only table in that place
Half white, half black -
It is my table
Where I sit - alone.

'I want my coffee
Dark and bitter please.
“Like my life was
Until now."

The olive skinned,
Mysterious barista,
Existing here only, now,

She comes, she serves me and she disappears.

One more time
I'll drink... and ponder
On all the 'if's
And all the 'why's of past long gone.

One last look,
Last gentle blow
In the bitter earth' nectar...
I take first sip.

Now and here, there is only me,
The palace and the marble
One client only, exquisite Cafe,
A while cup, and the coffee... bitter, dark.

The first sip -
A liquid kiss,
Black fire scorching
tissue thirsty. My soul is free.

Now nothing doesn't really matter.
Nor if I'm having coffee
Or the coffee slowly
Is consuming me.

Crimson Fog (Lust)

2016-07-12T18:39:00.004-04:00

I have secrets.
In fact... I have a lot.
This particular, however,
I love, desire, and despise.

Lust! A crimson fog that comes

To snatch my brain.

Again.

And makes it fly into a bleeding sky.

And lift it high
Then even higher
To splash it hard
In pleasure, guilt, of fluid brain.

Perceptual, erotic ebbs
Of flesh and heat alive
And bashing, crashing flows of
ends and halts and death.

Elevating all my flesh
And all my soul's contents
In screaming,
Maddening orgasms.

Depleted
Out-of-soul
Out-of-body

Out-of-matter.

Only where Sea of passions
Shore of Death explodes
The lust is gone.

And only where life

And death collide

And then, before it starts... again,

For a moment I am at peace.

The Pain (obsessed with it)

2016-05-09T22:46:00.004-04:00

Pain is grey,

And pain is blue,

The pain is red,

And pain is... death.

Allergic to pain,

Addicted to pain,

Just fine with the pain.

Pain, Pain, Pain!

Give me more of it,

Let me drink of it,

Don't let go of it,

Get rid of it... No.

Allergic to pain,

Addicted to pain,

Just fine with the pain...

Pain, Pain, Pain!

Dive into it,

And dwell into it.

Run away from it,

Dig it, and eat it. Shit it.

Allergic to pain,

Addicted to pain,

Just fine with pain...

Pain, Pain, Pain!

Give me more of it,

Can't let go of it.

Allergic to pain,

Addicted to pain,

Just fine with pain...

Pain, Pain, Pain!

Lacrima, Lacrimosa (fear of tears)

2016-02-28T17:32:00.005-05:00

The fear of tears

Is hard as a stone

Almost impossible,

To tear the fear apart…

Time and again beginnings and ends

Will meet and collide

Tear down and build up,

Time and again.

Laughter and sorrow

Elation or love,

Pleasure or awe… somewhere among,

Linking together the powers of dawn

Fear the tears,

Denying the ends,

Or, let tears well up -

Abolish control…

Is the well almost empty?

Or the well has a hole…

Was the sun much too bitter?

Throughout a voyage so long…

Something might be missing,

Some things could be found.

Sometimes in the spaces,

Some place in time…

Haiku Elegante (Dance)

2016-02-17T16:38:00.003-05:00

Mad dust in a gleam.

Sing my heart. Dance! No music…

The floor is now gone.

Of Healers, Witches And Warlocks (Burn)

2016-02-04T16:39:00.005-05:00

One pair of eyes… yours.

Two pairs of eyes, three..

Fourth pair of eyes... Screams!

Yellow, red, orange... Flames!

Bonfires, people and mud, screams...

I can’t see… I go deep.

I walk with a cane slowly. Now I see...

I’m there, Now I feel...

It’s a dark, cloudy, short day.

I hear a bell tolling…

“Tintinnabulum”, a boy shouts,

I don’t comprehend…

I turn to my right,

I understand...

"Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live",

The Dark one is screaming.

Three pyres, three wild bonfires,

Three miracles defeaters - light up three times by three.

One woman is screaming,

Her eyes are shut.

One woman is praying,

She is looking upward.

One woman, the closest,

She's looking at me…

Her face convulsing,

Her eyes are in pain.

Now she is smiling, she’s smiling at me…

Yellow, orange, and blue – Flames!

Fourth pair of eyes – Screams!

Third pairs of eyes, two…

One pair of eyes… you.

I sit in the chair.

You are there with me.

You look into my eyes.

I look into thy.

The room has returned,

The heat is still there.

Now the alarm’s on, and…

This is the end.

You smile,

And I smile.

And we say

our goodbyes…

The faint odor of fires,

Disperse on the street.

I sip that dark coffee

Another cycle - complete.

Vikings (FIGHT!)

2015-09-24T16:50:00.004-04:00

Swords, axes... shields
In hands able, craving to kill
Pointing at bear flesh,
Ready to bleed. Die.

Burning eyes,
Boiling hearts,
Ready to die now -
Never surrender.

Hard bodies -
In flames,
Stronger will
In our veins.

Silent moment in time.
Then a scream screams
"FIGHT!"

Rain, blood, mud, flesh,
Guts,
Victors and dying -
Enmeshed.

All things, and gods are now

One.
In that one moment,
All's done.

Mirror image of a mirror (Silver screen)

2014-02-26T09:30:00.004-05:00

Face me! Turn around.

I face myself

Into a mirror,

And into a mirror world;

Into a universe

So very close,

Away.

Almost insane…

Where I am myself

Yet microns away

From the “real world”

Everything’s perfect.

Under the surface

Of this old, cracked

Silver screen

I reach and I touch - you.

Blood there, under the surface,

Is fake.

I am an actor there,

You’re acting too.

When this movie’s over,

Another one will begin.

No one really gets old,

No one really cries,

No one really dies…

Everyone stays at the table,

Forever young.

The Gift (For P.)

2013-11-25T11:38:00.004-05:00

When time has come,

it’s always coming…

to say “Good bye”

to our friend.

The day was bright

and God was smiling,

it was our turn

that day to cry…

We sent it back

to its Creator,

there was a void

in our souls.

God was sad

one early morning,

and we were sad

without that bird.

That very night

an angel told us

into unusual,

prophetic dream.

“Do not be sad,

as you are blessed,

God gifted you

instead with child.

Pticho (For P.)

2013-11-25T11:28:00.003-05:00

God was sad

that early morning,

His tears falling

with the rain.

The grass, the trees,

the yellow flowers,

were feeling glad

to be so wet.

Remember

we were having coffee,

when both of us,

we saw the bird?

You said to me

“We have to save it!”,

and I agreed –

we've saved it’s life…

For many years

a little spirit

was watching over –

at me and you.

In rainy days,

when God was weeping,

it made us smile –

remember Him…

Your Eyes (For L.)

2013-11-25T11:17:00.001-05:00

Where my soul

would be sent to journey

every time I look into your charming,

sorceress eyes? I simply don’t know…

When you were born

out of the purest and most precious love,

our eyes have met

for the very first time and I was lost.

Into the blue

of the deepest ocean,

souls traveling in concert

the magic of the unexplored dept.

I just need to look

into your eyes… and my soul is off…

into a nebula of silver stars

where the angels meet to dance.

Sometimes, I like to loose myself

into the dreamy, sleepy blue

where we sit together

at the bank of the quiet lake behind the house.

And sometimes,

quite rarely indeed,

I look into your yeas, and later weep

into my hands, in secret.

Because in your eyes,

I see my eyes –

reflected, smiling.

Even if there’s nothing in my life to smile about.

The Blessing (For L.)

2013-11-25T10:06:00.000-05:00

Touching your finger,

I say to you “Hey, Boo!”

Bursting out in laughter,

you say to me “More! More!”

Smiling at you gently,

I pinch your little tow.

Laughing at me loudly,

you say to me “No more!”

Sitting at the table,

I draw for you a house.

Armed with yellow pencil,

you draw for me a tree.

You sneeze –

I say “God Bless you”.

I sneeze you –

say “Good Night”.

I’m opening your door –

you’re sleeping.

I’m kissing you –

Good night.

At the table,

later – smiling,

I say at least

“I’m blessed”.

We Are Them (...and they're - us)

2013-11-25T09:46:00.001-05:00

“When I become a swallow I will sing and chirp every morning…”

From the BBC’s documentary Bulgaria's Abandoned Children

Traveling through life,

occasionally haunted

by shadows in the wind

we’d glimpse sometimes.

No way to verbalize,

or comprehend it –

we feel attached to them

as they are glimpsing...back at us.

I see my specter sometimes

when it is windy.

I shiver slightly

knowing not how he might feel.

Despite avoiding him,

however,

he sometimes calls my name -

to please come back. And stay.

I always knew

the old time saying

“Let done be done” -

but I never understood.

Profoundly inadequate

we cast our shadows

always wandering,

always in the wind.

The Art Of Forgetting

2013-11-17T23:02:00.002-05:00

Dreams, nightmares, dreamscapes...

Every night.

I plunge into another one -

Again.

Certain shadow

Is looking for me there - restless,

In the mist of undefined,

And subtle forms of thousand dreams.

It is not one to fret me,

Or to punish me or even worse...

She just takes me for granted

And wants me to stay with her. Once and for all.

Sometimes uncomfortably sitting,

She'd pretends,

That I am not important

Not at all, not any more...

But I know her better -

She'd not even blink

To risk it all, again, including me,

To be with me forever in a dream.

Dear shadow,

In my dreams,

Locked there forever, misunderstood.

Everyone had tried -

Failed miserably in the end.

Sometimes I cry for you,

Sometimes I dream into your dream,

That I go to sleep - never to wake up.

With you...

I would be blessed if I knew

The great art - of the forgetting.

But I'm cursed remembering,

What never happened. What did. And, what you - did.

Curse

2013-10-21T16:25:00.001-04:00

How much
of a destructive power
is too much for the soul
to bare on?

Is there a dark, so dark,
out there - that's being able
to consume all light...
the entire light?

How many
vicious repetitions
will finally destroy the good...
all the good?

Could evil
be so arch-evil
to be inherited from
by the young and from the old?

How many generations
are there needed
to destroy
this diamond hard?

And how such curse
could be un-cursed
and evil such
could be undone...

THE SAD THINGS POETRY PROJECT

Obstetrical forceps

*The mirror man - Flamenco*

Fighting Monsters (all day long)

The Window (In anxiety)

Round Two (Grounded)

Victors And Losers

2025 (Daily Resets)

Three haiku

Dreaming Someone Else’s Dream

Darkest Coffee

In the palace into my mind built castle, In a marble walled, Marble floored one spot Cafe

Heavy heart and, Heavy minded, I walk inside,

To have another cup of coffee black.

Walking slowly, On the chess board black And white tiled floor, I then approach, slowly siting down...

The only table in that place Half white, half black - It is my table Where I sit - alone.

'I want my coffee Dark and bitter please. “Like my life was Until now."

The olive skinned, Mysterious barista, Existing here only, now,

She comes, she serves me and she disappears.

One more time I'll drink... and ponder On all the 'if's And all the 'why's of past long gone.

One last look, Last gentle blow In the bitter earth' nectar... I take first sip.

Now and here, there is only me, The palace and the marble One client only, exquisite Cafe, A while cup, and the coffee... bitter, dark.

The first sip - A liquid kiss, Black fire scorching tissue thirsty. My soul is free.

Now nothing doesn't really matter. Nor if I'm having coffee Or the coffee slowly Is consuming me.

Crimson Fog (Lust)

The Pain (obsessed with it)

Lacrima, Lacrimosa (fear of tears)

Haiku Elegante (Dance)

Of Healers, Witches And Warlocks (Burn)

Vikings (FIGHT!)

Mirror image of a mirror (Silver screen)

The Gift (For P.)

Pticho (For P.)

Your Eyes (For L.)

The Blessing (For L.)

We Are Them (...and they're - us)

The Art Of Forgetting

Curse

The mirror man - Flamenco

In the palace
into my mind built castle,
In a marble walled,
Marble floored one spot Cafe

Heavy heart and,
Heavy minded,
I walk inside,

Walking slowly,
On the chess board black
And white tiled floor,
I then approach, slowly siting down...

The only table in that place
Half white, half black -
It is my table
Where I sit - alone.

'I want my coffee
Dark and bitter please.
“Like my life was
Until now."

The olive skinned,
Mysterious barista,
Existing here only, now,

One more time
I'll drink... and ponder
On all the 'if's
And all the 'why's of past long gone.

One last look,
Last gentle blow
In the bitter earth' nectar...
I take first sip.

Now and here, there is only me,
The palace and the marble
One client only, exquisite Cafe,
A while cup, and the coffee... bitter, dark.

The first sip -
A liquid kiss,
Black fire scorching
tissue thirsty. My soul is free.

Now nothing doesn't really matter.
Nor if I'm having coffee
Or the coffee slowly
Is consuming me.