Surplus. Shallowness. Speed.
They all destroy the happiness of a quiet moment
You only become a driven person who is searching for the next kick
You do not stand still anymore to watch the stars
You do not know when the moon is full
When do the cherry trees begin to blossom?

The world turns around
Problems are getting bigger
You ignore them until it is too late

Who is to blame for all of this?
He? She? All of us?
Who does everything right?

Too complicated. Too big. Too hard to understand.
Who shall save the world while all superheroes are in the gym
mixing themselves energy drinks?


The Atlas of Beauty

Since I found out about the photography project “The Atlas of beauty” by Mihaela Noroc, I cannot get enough of her stunning photographs of women from all over the world.

Mihaela, who grew up in Romania, quit her job three years ago, and started travelling around the world. Through her photography project she wants “to explore the unnoticed beauty which lies in people around us.” Her portrays reveal the amazing diversity of humanity. At the same time, the women’s stories show how similar we are in our thinking and feeling as human beings no matter where and under which circumstances we live our lives.

In Search of my Roots in Bratislava, Slovakia

My mum’s dad had passed away before I was born. She told me a few stories about him and my curiosity to know more about my grandfather grew every year. He was a Slovakian citizen, but some of his family members belonged to the German diaspora in Slovakia. As a young man, he worked as an informant during World War II and moved to Germany after the end of the war.
Last year, I finally decided to visit the Slovak capital Bratislava because I wanted to get to know more about my cultural roots and this small overlooked place in Eastern Europe.

Continue reading “In Search of my Roots in Bratislava, Slovakia”

Between Past and Future

Whenever I tell others »I am a poet«
They look at me as if I am ancient
For them, my mind seems to be like a porcelain cup in an antique shop

Although I read yellowed pages of countless books
And I write some verse
My soul is not filled with memories of better days
I believe in the true meaning of poïesis
“to bring forth something new”

Caught between past and future
My body contains the code of evolution
But my lungs inhale fresh air
Scars on my skin, my dreams at night remind me of my mistakes
At the same time
I try to create a life that no one has ever lived before