Max and the Moon

With the stars as your guide

And the moon as your sail

You’re crossing the ocean of time.

Towards light towards sun

With the wind in your hair

And the helm of your life in your hand.

The horizon is red

The air smells of earth and

Over your head flies a gull.

Soon you’ll be there

On that island somewhere

Lies your future of diamonds and gold.

Clouds for Moritz

We will walk to that emerald hill my son

We will hike to the top of that hill

Then I’ll lift you up as high as I can

On the top of that magical hill

I will pass you a jar that you can fill

With those milky white clouds my son

With your tiny hands you’ll reach for the sky

And fill our sparkling jar

Then we’ll walk down that hill, back home

My son and watch those marvelous clouds

In the jar, on the hill, in the sky, my son

Yes, we’ll set them free in the lounge!

On the floor of the lounge we’ll lie hand in hand

We will stare at those glorious clouds

Till the sun goes down at the emerald hill

My son, then we’ll sleep deep and sound.

The Invisible Man

I try to hold the space

In which you were

Just yesterday

Your fingers on my lips

Have left me

Gasping for air even now

You’re gone

And all the world

Can see right through me:

Without you 

There’s a hole

Where I used to be.

Joshua

With the glow of the sunset 

in his eyes

he resembles most a dark lion

placed across oceans and time

onto this rugged coast.

His manes shaking in wild cartwheels

his roar of silk

his ears of gentle understanding.

Here is Joshua:

striding, playing, running

on an Asian Beach.

His smile is broad and white.

Mexicaanse Hond

De mezcal in mijn fles

veranderde langzaam van kleur

met het naderen van de avond.

Nu, in het kwijnende licht van de zon,

lijkt mijn worm

in een bodempje bloed te drijven.

In een stad ver van hier

heft Chihuahua

zijn bek naar de rijzende maan,

ik huiver,

want zijn etherisch gehuil

klinkt als muziek uit mijn radio.

Deuce

Two mountains and two poplars

The morning and the night

A tree of gold

A tree of blood

A field of waving cobwebs

A yellow ball

A scarlet ball

Caught for just a moment

Two mountains and two poplars

The sun laughs at their game

Gerard Hates Jazz

Tear this cruel gypsy heart
out of my rib cage.
Rip that poisonous sax-serpent
from my trembling hands.

Let me sit here
next to this tiny bed
with a bloody hole in my chest
with rotting fingers.

Let me sit here

staring at the light
that shines through
the ear of my son.