November 26, 2009

Traumfänger




Ich träumte von Dir
Ich kann nichts dafür
Wir liefen am Strand
Hand in Hand.

Deine Stimme ganz nah
Vielleicht war es wahr
Wir probten das Glück
Stück für Stück.

Die Luft noch kühl
Doch da war Dein Gefühl
Es hüllte mich ein
Nicht mehr allein.

Ich hörte Dich lachen
Wir können es machen
Wie Möwen fliegen
Dämonen besiegen.

Die Haare im Wind
Das ewige Kind
Solange man lebt
Ist nichts zu spät.

Du drehst mein Gesicht
Zum Morgenlicht
Du brauchst nichts zu sagen
Ich werde es wagen.

Ich träumte von Dir
Du kannst nichts dafür
Wir liefen am Strand
Hand in Hand.

*******

Alice McDuff ~ 19. November 2009

Photo: Dora Maar by Man Ray

July 21, 2009

Gravity

~ A Figment ~




















Little Boy, let me wipe the clouds off your face,
Look, I wanna offer you a smile for free.
Let´s share a laughter in your father´s backyard,
Let´s be just the way your heart yearns to be.

Hey Dude, take your glittery glove off that hand,
Come rock with me, or just walk´n´talk.
Please show me around your magical mind,
Open a gateway to your soul, I won´t balk!

Tell me, what do you think?
Don´t you think that could do?
Do you think that could feel alright?

Tell me, what do you think?
Don´t you know that would do?
Do you think that would be just fine?

Wizard Man, let me blow the dust off your eyes,
Now, don´t you point your wand at me!
It´s not the reflection of fame I seek,
It´s the man behind the mirror I wanna see.

We may sit in the dark, switch off and relax,
If the spotlights should burn all-too bright.
And if bizzo truth-tellers haunt you too hard,
We´ll fight back at them, side by side.

Did you notice the tulips still blossom at night,
When you happen to dance around?
Did you notice that migrant birds turn back north,
When you happen to sing aloud?

Good Lord! Step back and take a good look,
It´s your happiness that is at stake!
Get rid of that pack of goldvorous rats,
Kick them out, before it´s too late!

If you make up your mind to fight your ghosts,
You can tide over blood burning rain.
I´ll be there to heal your stiches and wounds,
To seal all those scars and pains.

Tell me, what do you think?
Don´t you think that could do?
Do you think that could feel alright?

Tell me, what do you think?
Don´t you know that would do?
Do you think that would be just fine?

**************

Alice McDuff ~ 21 July 2009


April 23, 2009

Vom Fluch und Segen des Wollens

Eugen Roth ~ Ein Mensch


Ein Mensch erhofft sich fromm und stil,

daß er einst da kriegt, was er will;

bis er dann doch dem Wahn erliegt

und schließlich das will, was er kriegt.


********


Kurt Tucholsky ~ Ideal und Wirklichkeit


In stiller Nacht und monogamen Betten

denkst Du dir aus, was Dir am leben fehlt.

Die Nerven knistern. Wenn wir das doch hätten

was uns, weil es nicht da ist, leise quält.

Du präparierst Dir im Gedankengange

das, was Du willst - und nachher kriegst dus nie...

Man möchte immer eine große Lange,

und dann bekommt man eine kleine Dicke -

C´est la vie - !


Sie muß sich wie in einem Kugellager

in ihren Hüften biegen, groß und blond.

Ein Pfund zu wenig, uns sie wäre möger,

wer je in diesen Haaren sich gesonnt...

Nachher erliegst Du dem verfluchten Hange,

der Eile und der der Phantasie.

Man möchte immer eine große Lange,

und dann bekommt man eine kleine Dicke -

Ssöhalih -!


*************


Wenn mir die Augen tanzen

von wild durchwachten Nächten

und gejagten Traumgedanken,

dann nehme ich meine zehn Finger

- diese meine spitzen Lanzen -

und forme meine Wirklichkeit

aus Worten und wie andere ihr Brot zum


March 25, 2009

Through The Looking Glass



Alice has left this blog.

It is not known whether she left deliberately, or whether she was forced to leave - or simply faded... Some state that she has been abducted, but this remains mere speculation with no available factual support. According to a another, more likely (yet controversial) version, Alice has been observed as she stepped through her looking glass, whilst singing the following verses:

Lady Alice was sitting in her bower window,
At midnight mending her quoif;
And there she saw as fine a corpse
As ever she saw in her life.


'What bear ye, what bear ye, ye six men tall?
What bear ye on your shoulders?'
'We bear the corpse of Giles Collins,
An old and true lover of yours.'


'O, lay him down gently, ye six men tall,
All on the grass so green,
And to-morrow when the sun goes down,
Lady Alice a corpse shall be seen.


'And bury me in Saint Mary's Church,
All for my love so true;
And make me a garland of marjoram,
And of lemon thyme, and rue.'


Giles Collins was buried all in the east,
Lady Alice all in the west;
And the roses that grew on Giles Collins's grave,
They reached Lady Alice's breast.


There blew a cold wind of dishonesty,
And severed those roses in twain.
Which never there was seen before,

And it never will again.


Or was it another song she sang, maybe this one?

**************




"Still she haunts me, phantomwise,

Alice moving under skies

Never seen by waking eyes."

March 20, 2009

Tribute To A Pen Friend

I have a pen friend, he´s American and his name is Gavin, George or Gideon (for editorial reasons, I will say that his name is Gideon, I like this name, Gideon as *Gideon Bellefleur*).

Gideon is a talented poet and imaginative man who pretends to be a real estate manager (although he´d surely be insistent that he´s a talented and imaginative real estate manager who tries to be a poet). He alternatively spents his days putting other people´s homes to the hammer (a very lucrative business in the U.S. these days!) or watching the californian sea (at least that´s how I like to imagine him), and his nights writing poems, watching thunderstorms or pondering about me!










HAHA, joking aside - let me rephrase this: he spents a relevant part of his nights writing pretty interesting stuff. Well, some may say that men aren´t multitasking but Gideon surely is, as he is able to make money, write a handful of beautiful end rhymes that would - each of them - perfectly work as song lyrics, and at the same time send me two e-mails in one hour - one filled with agnostic theories about the Creator he pretends not to believe in but calls the *Big Guy* (how do you know God´s a guy, Gideon?), and the other one with fantasies about inventive salad creations and other yummy things.

Gideon is someone who doesn´t hide. He´s not afraid of advancing his opinions. When he thinks or wants something, he spells it out clearly (which can be pretty wild sometimes, but he knows I can take it!). Still there are many things you won´t know about him at first sight, things you have to fight your way through to get to know about. When he doesn´t want you to get to know about certain things, he cuts them short though, but won´t just sweep them under the carpet. Just like me, he likes to control and settle things at his own pace, that is: quickly! He has the ability to see things from different angles and to empathise with things and people. It´s this special mixture of qualities that makes talking to him so interesting. He´s American in an Obama-like sense, in the best sense of the word American.

So I feel I can believe him when he says he likes me. I like him too:-). He´s the only men who will answer an average boring letter from me by sending two entertaining masterpieces of his own! He takes the time to care and make me laugh. We have spent over two years carefully getting to know each other (though right from the start, it was pretty clear to both of us that we are cut from the same cloth!), and have now come to a point where we trust each other. Our penpalship works because we know about its strengths and possibilities, but also about its riks and limits. Moreover, because we decided to respect its taboos (however, taboos are a matter of constant re-definition here).

What I admire most about Gideon though is the way he can write a soundful lyrical pearl in just one hour, using a language that is unique but at the same time accessible to a broader public. No clichés whatsoever though. Whereas my poems probably have too much of complicated "thinking outside the box" (and therefore mostly fail), his writes always offer a light bulb moment without ever being ordinary. A difficult tightrope walk that he brought to perfection! Example: I was thinking about writing a poem about vampires when I bumped into one of his latest writes: Vampire´s Memories. When I read it I instantly thought `OK, forget it Alice, there can be no better way to put this subject into poetry! Dark but exciting, instinctive but perfectly structured, complex but comprehensible. One of your best, Gideon! It is pinned down in my memory.

So this was a tribute to you, G. Thanks for being out there and holding on to me!:-)

x Alice