The Beat

Not always things come together.

First of April is approaching, and it is four years ago now that I fell into an abyss of the unknown. Sometimes it seems as if it is a long and winding road. Not the easy way out, at all.

Love is trying to capture images that once moved. Love is trying to seep through. People move. They move. They move on. Only sometimes I freeze and access layers of the known unknown.

The Beat.

Is still coming through. It's still coming through. Breaking walls once shattered then rebuilt. Berlin is mixing with young Hollywood nights. My wife and Sean. You and then Him. Relationships break, transform, die and sometimes, people die but the relationships to them don't.

The Calling

B is playing the piano like the Goddess she has always been to me, in her vulnerability and soft strength. S is singing with her and I listen to a Seal song that takes me over the edge, its rhythm shaking the darkness and the cricket's choir. My body moves, following the pulse and I know: this is where I come alive. There is no denying it. Like when I dive into depths of human interaction and feel excitement of discoveries open my wings.
My mind flies swiftly, spanning thousands of miles and an entire continent to reach Moscow within a mili-second. Ruth comes to mind and her circus performance with this electro artist. The community of artists beckoning me strongly. I stand so strong and tall, when I fall I rise from the rubble, I see where I can learn. And I grow. But the itching inside doesn't become any quieter. The Soul Kitchen is just around the corner, we will come together and share, foster a community of sharing stories, music, dance and poetry. We will feast. And my mind will come back from Russia, it will shake off the longings and thirst and indulge in the evening. I will continue standing tall and take steps of courage and creating a pathway.

Moscow, your hidden jazz bar and the dark and the dirt and your circus and music artists will have to find me, down the road. Maybe it's not silk acrobatics, maybe it is just tight rope walking. More than that it is really creating stories incorporating your magic. I can't hide for much longer.

The Missing Link

For a moment I could see it unfolding - I could see myself walk that path, grow professionally, become that person, step into a certain kind of greatness, a path that feels incidental, random, chosen and destined all in the same time.

But there is more than that.

The moment I realized the need to sharpen the pencil, when what I want is paint with my hands, was when I saw it all transform in front of my eyes. I can't deny my artistic nature. I can't deny that I love to do things the way I want to do them. I can't deny, that polished is not my mark.

I have to step into more chaos, messy creativity, stormy action. Then I can refine and dive and use all the tools I have acquired here. But I can't keep on forever going only on that path. I don't see how I can channel all this through one needle's eye. It seems almost impossible.

There is way more open.

it is old rags
i shuffle my feet
music has always welcomed me
i dive deeper
i find blood and flesh
broken into pieces like glass
looking through the rearview i catch a phrase
it sings your name
and speaks of love
that now has sunken deep deep deep into the coldest ocean
where humpbackwhales feast
and hum
you looked back twice
over your shoulder
sending hurt and smiles
all the same

it is new depths
i wade through now
gathering my belongings under my feet
he is begging at my door like an orphan
crying with fear of self in his palms
when he sweats i hear whispers
they poke holes through the layers of past
shake the view so i can see the pile
of trust rubble outside my window
where nothing can grow except for
love
but it sleeps under the rocks
dreaming of pearls of sweat
that slowly peruse all
all all all

it must be a one way street
a detour a mistake
i shouldn´t feel this way
shaken by burn of jealousy
rocking my mind
grabbing my heart in one instant
to laugh with a shrieking sound at the next
you surely didn´t mean any of this to be
but certainly it may make you feel
more free
the dice have rolled and cards have changed
you can take a deep breath now and
refuel
while i sit here to nurse my stronghold of feelings
to make it bold
bold bold

it may be insignificant but it does make me wonder, i must admit.
how i thought of him when i lay in your arms. how his whisper made me shudder. how i knew from the start that there would be something.

i can´t speak my mind.
i remember that night, when i felt love filling my lungs.
i plunged.
it´s been a long time. now, on adventurous roads, i can feel the tectonic plates shifting. they shake my mind. i am filled with fears i had buried so well. now they are bound to break open, jump, leech.
i want to crawl somewhere and just wait. maybe die. just wait it out. shame and frustration and sadness and sorrow, anger and hatred and gut wrenching longing is destroying my intestines, my lungs, my heart.
can´t i just let it go?
it´s hard. and who can i share this with? it is entirely my business now, isn´t it?
i want to stumble into your heart.
i want to be graceful like a butterfly. solemn and earnest and strong and fluid yet disciplined like a dancer. filled with joy joy joy!!!!
joya!
joy!

i am so ashamed
somehow
that i have to come to this place
in obscurity
i guess i just wanted
to pick another body
another life
another moment in time

your precautions are deliberate and i know you got your reasons.

this is a brutal collision between fantasy and reality. sometimes i think i have been like this already as a child. your eyes scrutinizing and gauging: you understand. sometimes paths diverge but then they merge again and i feel safe in the space you stake out for me. when you stake it out for me. sometimes i fall apart, my mind takes a life of its own and i have to submerge and recreate the situation: you understand. your gaze is haunting my waking memories. the way you carefully pronounced these words, giving your insights shape and form. do you hear me? or are you caught entirely in your web of sensations? sometimes we break through and there we are, flaming into the sky.

yes i love you

there is a magnitude of impossibilities,

but i know love when i feel it

i am not saying that
there need to be any relational consequences
most probably i am rather afraid of those
but.

a strange dream about my father
there is disappointment and divide
a sense of new-found family instead with my friends
other men who
assume important positions
in this my life.
how can i untangle this net?
how can i relate to you without
defending and defying

and this huge longing
to find shelter
in arms
not yours

dear dad
i am floating away.
my ties to you lessen every day
it is a liberating feeling
i can appreciate your work
more and more
the less i feel
attached to you

dear dad
i am floating away
i find solace and comfort in the arms
of other men
men who are not you
men who have the advantage
that they can see me with eyes
that you could never see me with

dear dad
i know that you hope the best for me
i am going my own ways now
i appreciate your concern
and your advice
and your love

but i am not your little daughter anymore

some things just don´t work
and it´s too bad that i want some of you
but not all of it
and i guess it is just fair
that you would withdraw yourself
from this dangerous
situation