Über irisgassenbauer

Freude entsteht aus kreativer Arbeit und aus dem Teilen dieser Arbeit mit anderen.

Intricacy of a simple thing.

Pfingsrose

Have you ever seen the peony’s bud?
It’s not much more than a tight oval.

But when the bud opens up,

the greatest petals
and carpels
and stigma
burst
out.

And while I inhaled the sweet rose’s scent
I couldn’t help but think that it’s a bit like the mind.

There is so much that the cranium
hides from the world.

You never
know.

Peony

Try the pondering mind.

haeundae beach busan

I would spend 3000 ₩ on a pack of rice chips to feed the seagulls
and I would have their screams accompany me down the beach.

stone bridge

I would walk across to have a look on the other side (and maybe I would stay there.)

hills magnolia gyeongju

I would wait for the sun to set just to see the magnolia at nightfall (between burial mounds, it is death and short term life, as always.)

koi pond gyeongju

And I would be a Koi in cold pond water.

Tripping over a frozen day.

Sometimes when you take the road leading south
even in March
there is snow instead of yellow cornelia blossoms.

But you just have to zip up your spring jacket
and wrap your scarf around your neck for a second time.

Maybe tomorrow
there again
will be
sun.

Probably it is all in your head.


The sun was out in the midmorning and I hope he found something interesting (probably a bug.)


I hope he will have someone to wrap his arms around when his heart gets heavy.

I hope everybody found their shoes again (or at least came to a mutual exchange)

and that he had a great day after all.

I hope they really liked the sound of flags in March wind

and that their next lives are going to be so much better.

I hope that he had all the right tools to fix what needed mending.

I hope we remember love.
I really do.

 

 

Let me be your mirror, soul.

On a mild mid-march day’s afternoon,
(the blossom was yet to come)
many a selfie was taken.



a teddy was carried through the Namdaeum market
(and I think it was half his owner’s size)

and someone finished his lunch and was pretty satisfied with it.

While some shared with pigeons
(colour-coordinated)

others guarded fluffy pyjamas. I might have gotten one (or not, would you?)

In the evening
the weather cooled down
and I found beasts (plastic paked)

who would have known.

 

 

Buried Bliss and Comfort’s Fast Decay

warschau

Winter came late this time and

as I strolled Warsaw’s cobblestone pavement

as my hands were pressed against the insides of my pockets

as I found snowflakes in the corners of my squinted eyes, making my sight blurry,

I met a lady outside of her shop.

She stood there and had a smoke, a cold one. A smoke with wind in the back of her neck and around her ankles.

„Warsaw is rather cruel to you“, I said, but I guess she didn’t hear me.

Maybe I didn’t say it out loud.

The Inevitable Desperation of a December Fly.

Dezemberfliege

Cold leaked through the window frame and there

not moving not turning its head not rubbing its legs

sat a fly.

I bend to examine it closely.

Its wings were a perfectly symmetrical veil.

As I took a picture, I realised that it was soon to die and felt blasphemous.

 

The Golden Riot

st hanshaugen

Sometimes something gets stronger, shortly before it dies.

It rebels against the end, no one would have guessed.

Like the leaves. Look at the leaves.

Or like the sentiments of a year that is counting down the weeks. They creep over my back, while I stand looking over the Oslo Fjord, while I swish through the bright yellow dots in Slottsparken, while I squint at the sun.

I watch the last revolution of the trees; their end is marvelous.

 

 

I feel lonely for you

Bank in der Sonne vor abgeschlagener Mauer

You know, it will get darker from now on.

But as long as it lasts, we could treasure the golden days of autumn equinox.

We could stay outside in the leaves and in the long shadows and wait for our fingers to get clammy. We could listen to the gravel. We could –