Improvised (for Nils Frahm)

Pocket evening

Electric piano tunes
dripping and cascading
into twilight silence

Sugar teardrops
I’d never dream
of weeping

Salty rain
I’d crave
to get soaked in

I stop doing
what I’m doing
I don’t think
don’t even breathe
and listen
just listen

With my ears
my closed eyes
my skin
my mind

bead after bead
prickle through
then swell to tides
then echo inside
my skull and chest
touching my
inner bells

(check out: Nils Frahm, *1982, German composer and musician)


Nothing, loss, maybe

1. Nothing

Your silver pain
a dagger with pearls
and rubies
‘Sorry’ I say, and
your weak smile flickers,

I would have preferred
a howling storm,
a river of tears,
a tempest of reproaches,

you offer
silent suffering
and sorrow,

‘Nothing’, you say, ‘It’s
nothing at all’

2. Loss

Why is there
no orchestra of violins
playing soft elegies?
Only a purring fridge,
a kitchen clock
measuring our heartbeats,
and time flows away
like sand on a foreign strand,
with the soft hiss
of loss…

3. Maybe

In clouds you stand
and mute my breath,
a Goddess made of marble,
but the worms of pain
eat you up
from inside

I loved you,
you loved me,


Ash and iron

The beach shimmers,
golden, crumbling, empty;
the day sighs, tired,
and grows older;
I taste iron
in my mouth

Clouds swim slowly
through the sea,
the grey and flat,
innocuous sea,
and we walk
and walk and walk,
not hand in hand
but closed, partitioned,
each his own
and hazy island

Our late afternoon
hums the melody
of waves washing over our bare feet,
of pine-trees whispering in the warm breeze,
of our muggy fear
that things could last,
that things could end

As we walk
along the golden beach,
crumbling, empty, tired,
words trickle
but refuse to flow,
and our half-silences
become eternities
imprisoning the grey, flat sea,
the sinking afternoon,
the golden clouds,
the sultry sky

Our burning truths, unspoken,
make my gums bleed
and fill my mouth
with ash and iron


Untitled March Poem

I feel the ocean in my head,
Feel waves sloshing in,
Foam-crowned dreams
Breaking on the shores
Of my finitude,
And I long to build castles
Upon black clouds,
To sleep on Eastern winds,
To feast on the fragile plinks
And plunks of rain harps
While a thin orange line
Explodes on the horizon


Puns 'n' tweets

Image created by using a vector image
by Dry Icons
When I opened my Twitter account, honestly, I really didn't understand how this new social media could be interesting for me. I simply followed a trend: everybody, or so it seemed, was tweeting; thus, I had to be a Tweetee, too. True enough, more often than not, people were either tweeting about the pizza they were currently eating in Cincinatti or they were puffing their wares.

Moreover, I found that the 140 signs you were allowed to use restricted my expression quite severly. How could I possibly trigger off interesting debates in 140 signs? I found it hard to be creative with only so few signs.

But lately, I realized that there's one field where this limitation can be rather fun without restricting my creativity. I'm talking about Twitter games, or rather: wordplays. If you want to be good at that sport, you have to be concise, because in this area, less is more.

It's my online friend, the fabulous writer and musician Jessica Bell (@MsBessieBell), who first started the really funny hashtag #Jessicasdictionary. I often read her inputs and soon decided to join in. In a short time, she has managed to compile a heap of existing words that, in a postmodern approach I found at the same time intellectually stimulating and hilarious, she deconstructed and reconstructed in order to give them a new meaning. One of my favourites is for example: "ANTIFUNGAL: Girls just don’t wanna have fun". Got it? In the meantime, she has moved the whole game from a hashtag to a full-blown website with its own Twitter profile (@DegDic) and Facebook-account. On the website, you can check out how the game works; there's also her "partner in crime", Adam Byatt, who talks about it on his blog.

So, I've decided to start my own Twitter game. Rather than to follow the same reasoning I saw behind Jessica's approach, I wanted my game to give even more freedom to its players. I thought, hey, let's start to invent new words! Isn't that somehow what creativity is all about? Of course, by playing that game, we won't use proper words but rather create new ones, "improper" ones. That's why the hashtag I created is called #dietersimproperwords.

And here is how I imagined this game to work. It's very simple:
  1. Take an existing word. My very first tweet, for instance, was using the word "handkerchief". Another one was using "woodpecker". A third one was using "fishmonger".
  2. Change and twist that basic word. Take out a letter, change a letter, add a syllable. Thus, "handkerchief" became "wankerchief". "Woodpecker" became "Hollywoodpecker". "Fishmonger", "wishmonger".
  3. Create a definition for that new word, dictionary-style. E.g. "wankerchief: small square of soft absorbent material you use when you jerk of". Or "Hollywoodpecker: a male actor's weenie". Or "wishmonger: a retailer of hopes".
  4. Tweet it under the hashtag #dietersimproperwords and, if you want me to have a laugh, too (I'd be more than pleased!), add me (@dietermoitzi).
I hope that my own offerings, which already include the utopian student carreer that starts with whyschool and leads to lolege or loonyversity, will make you laugh, too.

This is an open game, everybody can participate. All I'd like to ask you is to refrain from being racist, violent, homophobic or sexist. But other than that: be creative, be funny, be poetic, be inventive, be dirty, be nasty, be cynical, be crazy, be new, be you!

I hope that you will join in that game and that we'll soon have a great, big dictionary of those fabulous new words our world definitely lacks sometimes!