writing
Writing little stories, poems, and whatever else has always been a great joy of mine and still remains a passion for me. I have written many poems, a two-part poem collection, and a small story that I wrote as a lyrical novelette. Hopefully I will soon find the time to write more!
The Trout [ENG] (2025)
The trout, it swims fast
Trusted souls of cherry tint
It swims fast, the trout
Coppiced Respite [ENG] (2024)
Hear all, hear good
the pride’s vivacious
as it truly should;
even if fallacious
The evening’s flame
in desperate dozing
finds, in this game
much needed hoping
The scars upon relief
trust none, and yet,
buried under grief
ever fainter they get
Take this not as end
Love it as it stays
Make its care your friend
For the number maze
Unnamed Poem [DEU] (2024)
Kühler Abendschwall am trock’nen Ufer
Säuselt Grüße in die Abklangsböen
Erwacht nun auch der Gewalten Schatten
Und bricht hinein der eisenblaue Abschied
Lacrimation [ENG] 2024
It is within the horizon
A shadow on my eyes
And still the distance
Halliucinates impossibility
When naïve joy dies
Self-inflicted gentle lies
The cold impermanence
Gives way to such futility
A binding spell for a lost one
Whose tears pull him all at once
An elegy for the hurt
Whose pain pulls away from eruption
A thought, more not, for those
Whose sentiment is spread
In multitude foreign to most
If not such statement is pretentious
The simple pleas
“Come back – I long for you!”
But more cracks the roots
And gnaws on their core
The shallow words
“For all that is, I’m ember.”
Indeed this petal blooms
And withers as it sees itself
The bludgeoning cries
“The fire! It grows ever higher!”
Fades inside concealed flames
And singe all efforts down
It was a dream, all must admit and see
A detour from our thorned reality
Ripped back out, like this own flesh
My sweeter hope
And wrong desire
Cry and scream with all there is
Not even that relief you receive
Without a push against the pull
Without the stabbing of the shell
There’s so much more in deeper cold
In earths and gravels far below
Cry and scream while it’s still here
While all is gone and none will hear
Of sickness dry and numbest venom
Cry and scream or none will help
Or none will know
Trust that what they give
And just be whole for once
The rocks that pierce you
Feel so hand-made within
How hard it will remain
To see past my domain
The wires cutting into
All the dorrs out there
The cursed insistence of this world
To suffocate me for my being
To laugh in face of self-cruelty
And all it leaves me oh so rarely
Is the cries and screams
None will hear
For they can’t appear
Outside of lonely dreams
A Pause to Talk [ENG] (2024)
The fog has lifted and bells ring
With numbly bellowing sound
The door is closed and I am tucked in
The hotel room outside my world
A dozing robing churps and stops
As D/_3s nears, waiting for the door
“Why are you hiding?”
The cold speaks for itself.
“It is still a long way.”
T pull the blanket over my head.
“Let me in before all sinks deeper.”
In dreams the stars follow my eyes
Reaching for even just the simplest wish
And stepping forth with all I give
Seein soon the shine of seasons
Another knock
D/_3s sighs with restraint
All stars come crashing down
“This is you, yet I can’t provide you.”
It’s unfair to be stuck here.
“You’re stuck because of the step you took in here.”
What drivel. Skies are grey because of you.
“You need to think about what to do.”
Today is better.
“I know.”
Then leave.
The skies darken once more
Not from dusk but from cataclysm
A dozen sparkly fairies wriggle
All around the tinted window
A thousand glitt’ry wishes
Fade in sunlight
As the clouds subside
D/_3s chuckles.
“In light you know what to do.”
You find this funny.
“I merely try to show you warmth.”
You fail in how you treat my cold.
“…it is the cold you cling to.”
It is the cold I’d just received.
D/_3s leaves, and the hotel’s asleep
Night has come and pulled us in
The weeping child thrust away.
Deicide and Gardenia Boy (poem collection)
Deicide and Gardenia Boy is a two-part poem collection which I wrote during my three-month stay in Sheffield. Deicide is an expression of human interaction, futility, and a struggle for life; Gardenia Boy explores the love for community and indivuals, both in lack and in excess.
Tangerine and summer nights (lyrical novelette)
Tangerine and summer nights is my first finished longer piece of writing. In its words, it may still feel a bit like a poem or purple prose, and as such I named it a “lyrical novelette”. The disorderly narrative of Tangerine’s experiences during these summer nights with their friends is an unending search for closeness.