Three Pieces Of Klingon Poetry

Sto’Vo’Kor Revisor.

.

Without tears

Honored dead

Rowing down

The stream.

.

When will

They realize

Blood always

Flows downwards?

.

Yell for them!

Let them 

Hear bat’leths 

Slaying life tonight.

.

.

Just A PetaQ

.

Hiding from

The War 

Going on outside

No Humanoid

Is save from.

.

Six billion

Ways to die,

But he

Chose none

Of honor.

.

He just hides 

And flees death.

His life is collaborating

With species

In deep spaces

.

To vanish

In a wormhole

Not even submitting

A last message.

This is worth no song.

.

.

Painful Victory

.

Stardust sparkeled

On my Painstick.

Sick ceremonies

Had started.

.

Highnoon

In a rocky desert,

I’d fought

My moon not once.

.

Two suns

Guided blades

Against a sickle.

Live and die, 

my glooming mate.

.

After dark

I found my fate

In a violently

Bent blue arc

And I giggle.

Poem: Not Allowed

I should have never bought this pair of tights, so you wouldn’t have ripped and messed them and my hair.

I should have never answered your calls filled with your needs for cold coffee, which consumed my time.

I would not have talked about my past, if you haven’t had asked your childish questions about my origin.

Why have I sat on you playing that game of boiling emotions and eggs in the morning three times and again?

I hereby pronounce: You are not allowed to think of me anymore. Clean your dirty mind of mine quickly.

3aprXX17

Poem: Double You Storm

Wait the coldness.
Warm winds blew you in my sight.
With easy word and heavy meaning you flew by.
Why didn’t I see? Wisedom?
Was it me to bring in complexity?
Way down – the world is a stumbling lion
With sharp teeth, tidy skin and great flavour.

New world’s wizardry!
Want to join you without further interception.
Warnings and magical wants within.
Who am I to act stupid?
Weirdly we are vanishing in one world.

01aprilXX17

Poem: I Hate Freedom (i)

img_2321Gosh, how I hate freedom…

Freedom of choice,
take this or that
be thin, be fat…

Freedom of work,
do or do not
spend time with stuff…

Freedom of love,
share your emotions
out of an bottomless bag…

Freedom of mind,
Struggle of life
or easyness of returning…

Gosh, how I hate freedom
and the feeling
of regretting
nothing. (i)

Four Poetry Pieces Written These Days

Weekend Clouds.

Slowly the clouds
Travel down your body
I reflect myself in
Your sweet bellybutton.

Tie a knot
In my soul as a reminder
To return to life
After satisfying you.

Weekend clouds –
They smooch.
We observe and replay,
Silently condensing.

Emotional underwater

Ruins of a fortress
Dressed in green.
Algaes screaming
For a rotten poem.

Dressed in waves
Dolphins shout out
Hearable sounds
In every direction.

Can’t you be quiet
Like water in the eye
Of the storm?

In a ocean of kisses we sunk in each other’s past. These wounds of yesterday melted from our bodies like icecream we were collecting with our mouthes. We are cruel suns. Let us be dirty angels and praise Dionysos with our touches. May others judge our easyness. Let us drink the bitter vine of sorrow with a smile they call maniac. Let us await the day without pains as weird entities, still alive like a cat someone follows silently.

looking for something

looking for something
first level
consumption
burns daily
struggle and
darkness
of work.

looking for us
it’s healthy
to be egoist
and loose
oneself
in tears
of joy.

looking for love
we are
searching for
a mountain peak’s
blue flower
to guide us
to death.

looking for sense
through doors
of perception
ring
of the nibelungs
red dragon
within
a fire.

Double: Tree Planets

I love designing those tiny planets. With additional trees photographed in lowangle they look magnificient.

Mandaliac

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“Read it or zombies gonna eat ya ass” – About soezdb.com

Artists live in a world without time and space. Some of them dig the ancient past, some explore future happenings, others concept a parallel life that could never happen, but maybe should.

Soezdb.com is a international group of extraterrestrial sci-fi writers, most creative artists and postmodern programmers working together on literature for the 21. century. A unique bunch of people imho…

I love there works, they travel deeply into scifi and zombie culture, which I can relate to. You can find the published story “Saga 1 – Blue Marble Frostbite” on their page. Also one could take a look on their fabulous Instagram-Page to provide dadaistic combination of visual and word.

Proudly I became part of the gang some days ago, as Pops aka Roland Leipold agreed to publish some of my art. I also wrote a story of a zombie bride they gonna upload these weeks. He really empowered me to believe in my writing skills, so time for some zombie poetry. I will upload all content here as well.

Give them a postmodern highfive and now check his pages and the crowd around… or zombies gonna eat yo azz!