Wallpaper of the mind,
how do you ever get over
the fact,
that life feels quite long,
and boring,
Is it my fault,
If I don't see a point,
to anything,
or when strange beautiful
faces start connecting.
it's wallpaper for the time being?
I Look for change...
There's this sexy tree,
luscious in the garden,
quite trim,
doing a hand stand,
branches not too far apart,
the bark partly dark and ragged,
How can a world like this,
not expect us,
to go too far?
Where's the short cut
to men and women,
in what we are....
Wallpaper you are right,
I see red!
Maybe we should just
forget it then,
A work of art is fine,
especially when it reclines,
in a certain way,
or is not supposed to be
perverting us,
Ah! but the skin is so pure!
unsure, and accelerates
us beyond the poisoned frontiers,
And you have taken this wallpaper
down, because it just doesn't fit,
For I disappear into it,
with great uncertainty,
But wallpaper never really changes,
the most stupid oblivious looking stuff,
And present thought -
what exactly -
lies hidden under there?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem