and the rest is your imagination

Boyhood

I feel your disgrace
when I‘m with a man
when I hold his hand
when I kiss him
when I lay with him
when I am among
the likes of me –
that you think
have tainted me.

I never feel my true self
without your condemnation.
When will I be enough?

The idea of an encounter

illustration by the amazing pale.vice (follow him on Instagram: @pale.vice)

I don‘t know you.
my longings drew you
and you followed.

Shy glances to fleshly ties:
your warmth on my skin,
your groan in my ear,
your scent in my nose,
your salt on my lips.

You build a stronghold,
your arms around me.
This is the maze
for our thoughts,
habitat of dammed lust
to keep us away
from solitary and
the course of feelings.

We’re swelling.
Fancy becomes zest
frenzy becomes daze.
Towards relief.
Then decrease.

What is a home

Once the safest refuge
it now equals a dungeon
Once the place I ran to
it is now the place 
I want to run away from.

My home became a vessel 
filled with my worries and duties
that cling to the walls and 
haunt me down to all corners
at any time of the day.

Forward

So here I am.
I somersaulted all the way
to this threshold and now
I stall the further going,
too afraid of what‘s ahead.
Because here is
where the ending alters
into new beginnings –
Before satiety becomes hunger.
Before fatigue becomes elation.
Before placidity becomes hysterics.
Before routine becomes uncertainty.
Before normalcy becomes the extreme.
Before anticipation becomes concern.
Before welcome becomes farewell.

But the cavity slowly fades
and moves me outward,
where today turns into tomorrow
and farewell into welcome.
I confide to the motion.

(mehr …)

The Most Beautiful Hours

My surroundings’ demands
piled up on me
and pulled me down
until I was immersed in gloom.

I was drowning in all devotion.
But I found this place we could run to,
where I suspended the fatigue I felt and
doffed the load of my donned guise.

Wrapped in golden glow we drifted.
Fueled from the rhythm
we merged to an endless ocean –
without initiation. Without destination.

The charme of that scene,
the melange of creatures
and the fervor involved
swelled to miraculous elation.

And this moment
may never end.

(mehr …)

What remains of me

A storm comes up,
so strong that it pushes
my outside deep inside me.
At first I resist,
but exhausted I surrender.
I close my eyes
and look to the other side.
The narrowness that crushed me
dissolves into endless vastness.
The exile becomes a probation,
because where I am now
I do not want to stay,
but I must stay here
where I have never been.
For here is what remains of me.
The idea of who I am
is centered in who
I wish to become
and it guides me the way
back to the outside.

(mehr …)

Memento

I have so many questions,
collected over the years,
sheltered in my memories,
to locate my origin and
the components of my being.

But I waited too long.
Before the right moment came,
you escaped entirely.
You carried away the answers
and stole the bricks of my ground.

I wander my imagination.
From there I bring shreds.
They help me close the blanks
to create a colorful depiction,
and now I let it shine.

(mehr …)

I found this place

I found this place,
a haven to where I escape –
from reason to nonchalance,
from duty to meaning
from pattern to romp.

Here we all yield our temptations
and indulge in all our drives
that we might regret the next day. 
We celebrate our lust 
striving for satisfaction
and true love.   

Oh Hedon, 
my hideaway from grind,
my bypass road from adulthood.

(mehr …)

Growing Up

At times
adulting overstrains me.
And I long for my
fading childish naivety.
The grind distorted me,
obligations dazed me.
My gaze blurred –
I went astray
in dispassion.

(mehr …)

The Interrupt

Secretly we gathered,
for only a short while.
We disappeared actuality
to meandor along
the shores of euphoria,
we indulged in pleasures,
discovered our desires
and conquered our worries.
In blissed sleep
we returned to this world.

(mehr …)
and the rest is your imagination

about

OOOH SO SHORT is a platform to present my personal and self-conscious micro prose that entertains, that provokes your thoughts and that inspires – with a minimum amount of words to stimulate your imagination.

Because writing helps us to process experiences and to become more aware of ourselves and our environment.

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Schließe dich 2 anderen Abonnenten an

the author

Ralf

Based in Berlin I write and draw about my everyday impressions and thoughts. I earn my living as a content director, planning digital communication for ministries and public organisations.