Wednesday, August 18, 2010

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I my reflection I've forgotten it
swims with my apartment keys in the bed pushed
travel bags
silverfish neglected Hotel spirits
unnoticed forget the sight of the straight Water's edge

half decomposed tires provides the facilitating Patzer
and I'm not even stirred
satisfied sinks back the heavy warm cheek
in my hand

Hallmark Card Old Lady

holiday floats the half moon in the daytime sky

pale residue of an effervescent tablet
shortly before the dissolution

greater and upset
at night he lies on his back
a fat yellow-colored beetles

I would like to know if he kicks

hidden because it has a mountain

Oral Herpes On Forehead

love Eva, near the water plant

now you have learned about Mostar and get an idea of what surrounds me every day. But we have not talked about what the city and its surroundings for poetic qualities has - even though we have bright red from my balcony a shooting star and horizontal, seen and heard for seconds sizzle (yes dear reader, shooting stars sizzle at times, even if it's hard to believe ... you hear them burn ... we ears are witnesses). Maybe we can make up for the discussion of Mostar and literature / letters on the basis of a few still photos. Keywords could be: "austerity", "battered", "sublime". For example.

you are quoting Ben Lerner "horn if you wish all difficult poems were deep. That's good. I would just watch as recommended by poems like you take a closer I get, unfortunately neither the time nor Bella Edit. What is certain is that complexity is often used in poetry rather than the ceiling lack depth. So successful that it might not even notice the author or the author. Steffen Popp, the learner has translated, I have already read some of his own poems from his first poetry book "How Alps. I liked it, very plastic, replete with images, comparisons, one might criticize that, but I like it. Especially since the poems I know well from time to time are funny again.
That's it for today, see you soon,

your Sibylla

PS: Bullets, I love lists!

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Denise Milani Top Less Clips



of rain pushed down waiting
to more rain, or the return of the
severe heat, the glaring light
brings and as deferred untropisch
I help to feed the oasis and
refreshing fresh green my breathing
under the microscope

from the long heat low brown
yellow fringed shore is the shore where I
a day
almost nightly
jump on the oxygen-boot and forget
silent motion my view
cooled in the magnetic

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child

your little hands are perfect.
you are sheepskin and sand caressing
park full of new adventures

That you already dreaming -
North Sea waves, cow bells,
Tender

bush without thorns,
book whose stories
cheerful and will be exciting

irritated
Without this exchange of words, these cold
eyes dull.

(Thanks to Child by SP 1963)