Poetry 2017/2018 (selection)

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Beauty is only skin deep

I see fingers
Almost everywhere
Pointing at you
Fingerplay
Isn’t a Fingerplay
Squashing
Indicating/Refering
Blame
Grasping/Reaching out for
Holding/Cradling
Feeling
Touching
Petting
Shaping
Accomplishing/Creating
Detached from hand
They are useless
Feckless
Lying here and there
Comatose
Silent
In rank and file
Without limbs
Pretty to watch
The Sublime
I don’t want to judge the situation
Even though
BEAUTYISONLYSKINDEEP

A little Love Story

Above all I don’t want to whitewash
There is only seemingly freedom of all things

Beauty is Illusion

Coffee Dregs is Beauty
Aging is like Coffee Dreg

What there is of it if the whole life became squeezed out

But
Heck,

Useful/beneficial

Ugliness is the powerhouse

Without it we would fail
To perceive beauty

In German language ugliness derives from hate/hating

Without hate
No love

The pursuit of love

But what comes afterwards

There is no increase of love

Comes next the big nothing

I like hate
I like it even more than love
It tastes sour and defined

Love tastes sweet and undefined
Love is so singsong
Plays only from the treetops

Dull

The Untamed

The black-and-white costume
It is captivating
The cowl
Sheltering
The red lipstick and the fuck me heels
And
Smack and Click
And
Smack and Click
And
Smack and Click
The structural steelwork forces you to adopt a certain attitude
Is this still irreversible?

Tracks

Milk is dripping down the loo
Rosy cotton candy ghosts chuckling in churches
Leaving behind little tacky tracks on glassy grounds
Bright yellow teddy bears jumping on grass-green coffins
The wind whispers whimsical
The phone is ringing soundless
The person at the further end
Does not like butter cookies
I do
Soldiers declare war
I hang up.

Love’s labours Lost

Under my very nose
So incredible nigh
You’re standing
There
In my world
I wanted
I could
Snatch you
My Love
You miserably came and left
Again

Eyewash

Disobedient notions
Mixing up with my thoughts
I became a nibbling monster
They’d like myself possibly sometimes more
Than
Me
Mine
I
Liked

Un Mund

Finally
You’re
All alone
Inside yourself
There
Stucked
In
Your
Corpuscle
You
Can’t
Escape

The Mirror

Are you the one
Who declares the truth
Or
Are you the one
Who declares the lie
Do I see you
Or
Do you see me
Do you belong to me
Or
Do I belong to you
My little friend
You are playing with me
Am I there
Or
Am I here

The Nightmare

You just disappeared
Without any prior of warning
It is clanking cold
I was looking out of the window
Snow flakes sashayed the dance of a bygone era
Restricted my sight
I yomped inside the Kitchenette
Myriads of onions waiting for me
Observing me with bitchy grinning faces
Settling down in my house
I couldn’t handle these bloodless days any longer
I had to eat these onions with skin
It was Sunday today and I had 5 days left to assimilate them
It was still snowing outside
Hermann dumped me 10 days ago
7 years are such a long time
Eating onions with skin for 7 years
6 months passed and I discovered a little speckled slip inside the glovie
In red letters was written:
“Dear Erna,
I couldn’t stand your pungent onion odor any longer.
Hermann.”
From Helena’s “Little Onion Stories”

Shark

I am a shark
A barking shark
A sharking shark
Barking sharks don’t bite
To be honest
I feel awful about it.

Helena Hartmann 2017/2018