White feathered queens of Prague

Surrounded by all the business,
majestic buildings and chaotic people,
shouts, honks, thieves …

They seem unaffected,
as they caress the water surface
like a touch only a feather can make
Sailing on the river effortlessly,
showing me that this kingdom is theirs

Like the guards of Prague castle,
they freely allow everyone entrance,
existing but restraining from interference,
functioning as symbols of prestige,

one, only majestic and powerful entities

grant the luxury for

But do not mistakenly characterize them as vain,
like the horses with carriage; a product manufactured from corrupted intentions.
No,
the swans unexplainable demand my attention,
with their natural charisma,
showing me they know that the kingdom is theirs,
and theirs alone
Ruling in serenity,
as white feathered queens

The awakening of my tastebuds

an ode to czech Štrůdl

I cannot remember the last foodgasmic experience like this
Refined, yet made butch,
like rough sex with a gentle lover

First I dent the puffy texture with my bite
An explosion
Red berries attack my tongue,
followed by the soft cream,
first dazzling my lips,
then, gently pouring,
filling my mouth,
balancing the sour and the sweet

Another bite,
I try to tame the pleasure
but it’s out of my control
As the pastry gives its last jerk,
it defeats me,
leaving my pants,
stained

A memory to treasure

Panick Attack

22nd of August 2018

A small dot on the horizon, a tiny grain of dust barely visible from the eye,
it bothers no one,
expect me.

When I look at it, the dot turns into a star,
and the star begins to fall.
Once it starts falling it accelerates,
and the falling star becomes a comet.
The comet is plummeting the earth.
The grain of dust has become this immense
solar attack that is aimed directly at me, ready to

blow

me

up.

Salty goo dripping down my chin. Suffocation, I can’t breathe.
Loving arms and words and breaths nurse me back and tell me about the dot.
It’s just a dot, and you’ll get there when you get there.
And even if you don’t catch it, it won’t destroy you.
If you would just close your eyes, you might see.

But that’s the issue, behind my eyes lies the world in which a dog becomes a wolf and a wolf a bear and I can’t negotiate with a bear.
Instead I fight the bear, but he always outpowers me,
until I’m too exhausted, until he’s fed up with me, and he lets me sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

Sun

Friday 17th of Augustus 2018
~ translation

Summer, my eternal search for-
and run from,
her, the sun.

The almighty bulb of nature, tempting and defeating my bright skin, but seducing every time again, with her feather’s touch.

As my tan still hides from winter, I lie myself down on the sand, and surrender to the beach. The sea is restless and speaks a language I don’t comprehend,
but do, understand.

The waterdrops on my skin seem absent in her sight, but transform to ice-cubes with every breeze from the sea, protecting them.
Then, all of a sudden they seem estranged, from all the other drops there, in the sea. As if they scream; “immerse in us, and free yourself from the cold!”.

But I do not give in,
Because I trust my friend, my enemy,

the Sun.

Encountering the Sea

Friday 17th of Augustus 2018
~Translation

As I undress, the chilly sea-breeze greets my small breasts. They return the greeting, with perky-ness,
my nipples surrounded by goose bumps.

The sun is long gone, but the sea has absorbed nearly all her energy.

The first encounter is with my eyes, the intimidating impetuous theater I see before me is almost frightening, as if it could swallow me up whole.
Almost preventing me from a further encounter,
which soon follows.

First up are my feet, which carry me to the sea, while the wind attacks my legs with thousands of tiny sand-soldiers. After a few meters my untamed friend takes over and carries me on.

SPLASH, in one fluent motion we merge as one, while you hug me like a liquid blanked surrounding all of my body and protecting it from the wind.

Now I am one with the theater and move along with any direction you point me towards. I jump over the waves, just like they jump over me. The sea tastes on my lips, he washes my whole body. I feel so clean, but know this feeling is,                                                            merely temporary.

As the wind wins the battle against the sea, I give up and say goodbye. See you soon, and I know that my salty skin will remind me of this conversation.