Archive

BeYondEgo

electric room nyc beyondline//you won’t be in my heart, but in my words/you haven’t been too good to me, but anyway you’re not my world/you won’t have my grief, cause my mind is my sword/I can’t believe I was so naive/to think you liked me – truly/I guess I was just crying out: deceive me.

//picture of the entrance of Electric Room which is one of the better clubs in NYC

Bewusstseinsstrom//Eine schöne Idee, danke sehr. Hansjörg Straub skizziert für das Literaturforum Oberschwaben.

//Edit: Ich sehe nicht, dass ein Text Vergnügen bereiten muss. Ein Text muss gar nichts. Er darf alles und zwar mir Kraft: leben, sterben, aufwühlen, sich selbständig machen, verstören, kaputt schlagen und wieder aufbauen, kämpfen, verwirren, aufdecken, wüten und wehtun bis zum Wahnsinn, verändern und erneuern. Wir sind nicht in Disneyland. Scheiße. Text ist frei!

stand and watchb//should I be happy / or sad / when a dream comes true / I want none // rather be floating / away / in the stream so cruel / a purely one // shall I be grown / or small / when they guess who I am / I’m just gone // rather be a child / intrinsicly / not knowing any thing / be bygone // leave me with the moon / please / I need no rule / can’t go on // when they tell me who I am / please / don’t hold on to me / let me go // I’m wearing feathery gloves / grasping / waving in the wind / I’m just gone

stand and watch tall//what shall I do / with those shining eyes? / with one thing they are right / there is no other way / for me /
//how shall I read / those warm words? / when I just / wanna hide / there is no other way / for me /
//but to be.

stand up night stranger lightif i could speak it out just loud / i’d say i’d make those things explode / throw them up into the sky / where they can grow anew // if fear could rain along my skin / i’d let it drip into the sand / mingle it with the wind and clouds / until the leaves start to speak // if I could shout it out just now / I’d open up those crowns / let that light out / until the form turn into play and the leaves start to speak // when I grow up i’ll be a bird / i sure know how that feels / i’m no stranger to these / i’d twist those ankles like they know no range // i wish I could make those strings released / with just one glimpse / i’d lose the ground / and dig my feet in. deep.