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Advent 3 - The Berlin Gaudete I


 

I feel much better than that poet in Cologne

unfortunate bloke with eyeballs shaped like eggs

and I am better since I am the one

who feels how deep inside the duckling pecks

 

Survivor of the Munich Bronx

I fought and labored as a kid

they pumped grey milk into my songs

but now I walk through Berlin in Paul Smith

 

I walk in beauty where you would expect

the hunchbag posture of a tortured child

a show of handsomeness oppressed

and sidewalks in this wild take fire from my light

 

I walk this capital of erstwhile evil good

erstwhile erstwhile you mean only a mile ago

take power from the poet who at corners stood

stand with him a second while and you will know

 

I walk and walk until I find the way to roam

since I was told they roam here in a hidden room

behind the pane a man with golden microphone

to graceful women he appears to preach or croon

 

I long to go in but the towering door is locked

how good that gives us reader room to think

most surely I will enter may you know I knocked

once in a woman named Marie will offer me a drink


to me not you dear reader since you stay outside

a glass of wine she’ll ask some water please I’ll say

but for the moment still we stand united in the night

still savoring this point in time which flowers like in May

 

some moments they are mental high and monumental

not monomental since I count on you my reader

you are the one whom I adore no others are in rental

may you have faith in me I lead you through my lieder

 

but now Marie is opening the portal and I enter

and you must stay but do not lock your heart

the heart it knows its seasons skipping winter

as I to richest poverty am welcomed by great art

 

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