Mein Wille ist den Weg von Wellen gegangen.
Und ich sitze gestrandet auf Zeitbänken.
Stranded in between the markets of the world
I am a tomato among Agents of Orange
and there's no taste bud without a conscience

Three gazillions of seemingly random stimuli
gush away like gallons of wine
into the cross-cultural cortex of mine


Our capacities of interpetation
are outweighed by the influx of disinformation
to the extent we try to stay reformed


The history of ideas unfolds relentlessly
on the assembly line where I
with three missed calls
and two are not beknown to me


I say you are the same as me

I claim, we talk, she climbs a ladder
They faint, we walk, he listens closely

Shrouding minds in tabloid storms
all hearts are sealed behind this song
peeling eyelids from windshields
our tongues are levitating above the smoke-trails
of burning get-away cars

eyes closed

now that there's not one
thing left to see
I might
just as well
stop counting
Once upon a time I found my head reclined against the bed of Rhein
and I did not know what to say or do...
Once upon awakening I saw a lake forsaken then
and still my eyes hunt down its sight...

Once up on a mountain top the wind saluted, searchlight dropped...
and you said this was not supposed to happen
not supposed to be in this eternal dream
of revelations seemlessly esteemed benevolent
and followed by the sheep believing

Once upon a rhyme I saw the signs of day-of-judgement look-a-likes
and I just could not be too sure, the pre-described cure in my trembling hands, pockets filled with remembrance of the ancients' senses and still I'm wondering whether I should swallow what makes us wallow in the Realm of Boredom or if it is okay to keep on walking just to stay

Once upon a lime-lit night these questions were being held in cross-eyed interrogatory darkness, mark, set, go! And the venture was not in need of an answer any longer, the anchor relentlessly relocated itself by the traces left on a blue sky and home was no longer where I went, but who I was

so if you asked me for the way
dictated by your heart I would not
sway and swagger, pray or stagger
but remind you of the day
where roads converge into dots

- Teelonius, NJ, 1st of May, 2007