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Auf YouTube in der Playlist @ LYRIKPERFORMANCE.de / 30-jähriges Jubiläum 2023: eines der ersten deutschen Slamgedichte aus den 90ern ins 21.Jahrhundert hinüber gerettet! Das Gedicht wurde 2020 im Düsseldorfer Best-Of-Poemie-Werkquerschnitt "DIREKTE DICHTUNG" (BoD Verlag) neu veröffentlicht. Die Erstveröffentlichung geschah im Werkquerschnitt "DIE WELT ALS SCHOCK UND ERWEITERTE TATSACHE" (G&GN-Verlag, Krefeld 1995, limitierte Copy-Art-Ringbindung) und die Live-Uraufführung fand bereits am Entstehungstag 26.12.1993 im legendären Kölner Jazzcafé Storch auf der Aachener Straße statt.

DAS GESAMTE POWER POINT PROJEKT IN DER EQ-FILIALE

another poem and another poetic line

i tell you the truth there is nothing divine

another poem and another poetic line

but searching your soul will be never fine

yeah i do write again and again and again

i write again one poem more and more one more

who cries will fall thru smuggling cracks oh there

is nothing to keep me alive in the sick folder

he saw and wrote down everything the repetition

took by that its course and if at some point somebody

secretly asks what did he want

the longing weighs a thousand books

oh well it's long ago and always the same

enough artists have been against the german flag

but nothing works by sitting in the egg they laugh

at you and stir the porridge the scam they carry

out until the end until the end is

off off off let me out of the bounds

the ending tastes bitter the german gets used to every

rain shower i tell you art isn't dead but art has no power

so my work is done i'm allowed to get drunk

art as an useless joke never learns the funk

to be beautiful means everyone pays the price

just nice so nice just nice nice nice

without any meaning behind the mirage the mirror

mirror on the wall betrays the poet's very fast finger

establishing healing help and hope but

not in the crowd and not in this country

oh i hate them so much stupidity cannot be

skinned everywhere everything comes to no end

but the sand in the gears is running

like clockwork or piled in a museum

everyday life is a winner the artist a

loser gets spanking instead of thanking

it's easy to curse about the world but

no one can fuck off in the very end

as the sky is not blue and angels not white

i do write a poem about that bunch of shit

and another poem and another poetic line

nobody turns clever just the crack gets wider as ever

i keep writing who believes still in the greatest light

and through the ureter my real face screams it's right

that paradise got the weight of earth the planet is coloured grey

i feel so queasy in my belly a thousand brains in my skull

so i write one more and some more and some

more and more and more until my patience is gone

my blood full of pus and my heart worn out

my mouth has been a pyre for a very long time

and yet nobody sees the pain in the pictures

i tell you today play along like yesterday

or flee flee flee

the backbone does not break the vertebrae

slowly but surely become soft like knees

so cheer up boy

and thanx