snail's saturday

green side

pictures with title

daemon died

I am currently finishing my thesis in philology
and on my internet usage I should be very slim
but today - o user! - is quite a day to rejoice

I finally found him and i have no choice
but to inform you in picture and also by word
that no daemon no more is living on this earth

after searching far and fooling wide
i finally found him right by my side
but I only found him because he died

yes you see clearly alright
the letters are sharp the message is bright
the daemon - oh user! - the daemon has died

now my computer will hum
with aengels' will and good speed
he will work how it pleases no one but me

[or this is at least how I want it to be
this bright rosy future right after the restart
of this program or two with a jolly good heart]

(c) Daniel Graziadei 2013

turning & moving 2012 - 2013 into thankfulness

As another year ends
the earth keeps turning
unmoved but moving
& I am thankful
for every light
for every night
and the flight of our hopes and smiles
as they open their wings
and rise and shine

The colours of our dreams and visions

turn from black and white to red yellow blue

and blur into motion

A sun rises yellow in the Southern East
behind the mountains of new beginnings
until clouds of infinite altitude turn
into eyes and dragons and other imaginaries

Shapes and visions - premonitions
new days soft moons and full circles
turn into stars or flowers or something unexpected
full of grace and beauty
chance and invention instead of duty

Like that clear evening full of light 

of a year to come 

or this year soon to be gone 

another turn of this planet 

moving unmoved

turning unturned

around sun

light without darkness

and only some clouds 

to write a message

into hilly horizons

I love this life
on this earth
at this time
and thankfulness
gets the last rhyme

261212 Algund, Southern Tyrol, Italy

silent smile(y)

 ...








...









...

Gazagain

After seeing two furious interviews on Aljazeera

1919161112 MUC

But all you can see

in front of your hate

ridden face and rect

-angular glasses

is

how he's holding her

and her daughters

and sons hostage

You see a crime

against humanity

as they cower around

the angry bearded man

in their crowded cage

stereotypically

shooting

blindly

angrily

despe

rately

at You

his very

precise Other

________________________________________________________________

| &

| with

| the passing

| of time and reigns

| violence became violense

| all eyes one sense

| all muscles tense

| full time

| no peace

| to the body

| and the mind

| just fear

| turned

| sour

| to hate

| and

| into a

| border fence

| an ugly grey scar

| ridge of that flat dry volcano

| close to that ancient coast of our Middle Sea

| where the bored waves don't cool no heat no more

| where fires burst under the entertained gaze of Latest News

|

|

|

|

|

|

|

|

|

|

&

You &

the Other

you Brothers

have started your

fight under the olive trees again

all birds

and goats have fled

there is too much noise

too much dirt

too much blood

too much smoke

and you never

come up with

the simple

power of

a handshake

a forgive you

and the poetics

of raising

doves on

neighbour

ing roofs

Writing poetry on a day in September

9/11/12

& some & the media & the Xpertz want this to be

a day of towerss

a day of terrors

a day of flights

a day of lossess

but 111 days before the end

of yet another digit in Western years

it may well be the first day of Coptic and Ethiopian countings

but not the anniversary of the beginning of a new time of fear

but not the anniversary of a change before we can

and certainly not the anniversary of the start of a mission that will never accomplish

It just feels like yet another day

brutal and deadly          calm and boring            peaceful and lovely

in a spiralling world

always changing always many

and I only get a feel of it

as heartbeat

as moment

as wonder

as breath

as now

& so I will not try

to insert my kind of story

into the screaming narration/repetition of specials

cause Shabine already told us from the depths of the Sea

“I met History once, but he ain't recognize me”

[may all victims of violence in the manystories of this planet rest in peace

may all species in extinction rest in peace

may all rest in the assurance that no one leaves life alive

may all hidden fears of this uncertain certain death turn into a joyful now

may all smile in peace and ease tensions and worries]

Special thanks are due: to Derek Walcott for "The Schooner Flight" and Kamau Brathwaite for "Guanahani"

On Sunday's they climb the mountains [photographer's cut]

fwd: visual variation of the previous post

On Sunday's they climb the mountains

it has been whispered

that there exists a mountain people

on the other side of the blue orange

and it has been told that

their climbers don't stop

when they reach

a mountaintop

instead

it has been smiled

they keep on

rising

 

& we felt like Rodrigo de Triana

on the Pinta

as the streams of clouds

that put us to high sea

ripped open

for our first glance at the next

mountaintop

land!

there is down and there is up

time for the streams to wander

and the rock ship to stop

pirate SeaSick was close

sun is allowed to peer through

the clouds of our doubts

and warms

the heights of the crow's nest

this barren stony top

were we cower and rest

eat drink and thank

for this rare hospitality

in times of upheaval

yes

we are humble guests

but

it's from here that we mount

our dragons of playfulness

and surf

wild winds of change

pictures & poetry © 2012 Daniel Graziadei

Standards of imagiNation

wind & water play you
as if your cloth was strings
and there will be light
whilst you tear and shrink 
and flap




all will be bright
day and night 
do not cast their differences
do not fight their ways
but dance!
as long as suns
are beaming
within your chest 
and ears and innards
as long as drums
are clanging 
with your feet 
and heart and hands




















with every moment/movement of your flag
your standards of imagiNation
without a nation 
without image
without colours 
with neither coats nor arms
simple smiles are hoisted high and higher
and anchored deep and even lower

all there is 
and all needed is
a circle of light
a nod of thanx
the ways of suns
music and vibes 
without sounds
beauty in the simple stream of breath
the ways of moons
growing and slimming
taking and bringing
full and new
ever changing 
like a wonder/waterfall
or a sky/heart 
in stormy times

when right is wrong and freedom just another word abused

______..........-------::::::::::::::::rant*****

when right is wrong and freedom just another word abused

then it is time for another line against 

then there is ripe another line's defense

we won't give air to any fake pretense 

so listen and act:

Don't let them roll the wire 

we don't need this fence

Don't let them feed any dark desires

we don't need no bloody defense

Don't let them plant divisive fires

we don't need no electrical fence

no trenches no walls and no barbed wire

no false flag ops no cannon balls to burning tires

What we need is a warm strong hand shake

a home for the searching 

a shelter for the traveling

fair work and healthy eating

open minds in every meeting

with every form in creation

So don't let them roll the wire 

we don't need any fence

We need wild nature for one true embrace

so we don't need no fence's ways

no dugouts no arms and no declaration

instead of old school separation

we need some drastic incorporation

into that world outside of nations

become a small part of all creations

We reject all separating human invention

like a line drawn into the whole mix up

dividing some within the many

not asking much demanding plenty

giving orders and commands 

Do they think us fools on their errands?

Make them give up their demands

for a long and calm embrace

against their fear and the rat race

for our dear peaceful breathing space

So please get along and act now strong:

Give to all the separating ones 

a big smile and an open hand

a strong argument and an impossible confusion

Give them hope in peace instead of a bad land to want

with a hard alphabet and old Newspeak 's pollution

Dig out their landmines and cut the old wire

blow up the dugouts and that highty-mighty craving 

for that final control over some tight tight base

Cast that desire out into the open outer space

and let it become there a lonely desire only

let it be a lonely line only

Cause

We reject the whole invention of the possibility of separation

like a line cutting up the whole mix up

dividing some from the whole and the many

not asking much but demanding oh so plenty

all screaming orders and some odd command

we as their soldiers or as fools we were planned

So let us play a downbeat like a reggae jazz band

come let us watch and see their doubtful faces

make them accept their surrender's graces

Then let us share one long and sincere embrace

against their fear and their bad rat race

Let us share a long and a full embrace

for our dear peaceful breathing space

Let us share a long and full embrace

with so many very different kinds of being

intermingling at all times even when deeply disagreeing

with the inconceivable and unbelievable untamed pacifist nation

called positive imagination

__,,,,....;;;;....;;;;....::::****'''''****::::::::::......,,,,,,,_______

This whole entry / dub-poem / rant took its starting point in the PICturePOem above that I titled "the heart of darkness [version ST]"  and which came into existence as a translation of a German version of it. The originals tries to criticize some recent separatist/nationalist propaganda in Southern Tirol, Northern Italy (see p.e. this article in the international version of Spiegel Online, or my German blog entry "Im Herzen der Finsternis"). 

Only via the translation into BIE (Broken International English) it dawned on me, that this is universal, not local. 

refusal of corporate cooperation and the restauration of inner peace

You tell me to write

big city big crime big news big time

kind of best dwelling progressive aggressive 

wonder stories about

spiritual poverty rich bitch glories

right now right here and with a deal

You tell me that no one reads

simple nature silence sunshine waterdrop

kind of rainbow poems

in the cool and hip

concrete surroundings of your realness

but I must confess

if it is your hyposterical hipsterwittical zealness

that I should address

as your very personal ego caress

I cannot sleep that night before

the stage gig

I cannot move that sec before

the button hit

I cannot breathe that moment before

the tongue flick

so I am very ordinarily unconvincingly sorry

for my uncool behavior

and you may as well worry

about my career spice and curry

you may as well unfavour

me right now and here

cause I simply have to publicly adress ad confess

positive vibrations which let me words caress

are made of thank full bless

without egostress

but much more and less

simple love and affection

for this whole interrelational active fantastic cosmic wonder of life

for this second

and chance

thank you

and bless

[inks]

0527050312 Algund (South Tyrol, Northern Italy)

(c) 2012 Daniel Graziadei 

Decadentist reload 2012

Shortly before the end an overripe fruit unleashed a captivating smell that was only excelled by the chant of the dying swan on a golden lake at sunset. A zealous decadent of the 2012 movement which had been known as hyperactive Y2K conspiracy blogger during the nineties and zeroes had scribbled EndZeit in an armed ghetto style onto the face of Monalisa and became the new internet-video-hype. Somewhere on a remote mountain top a silhuette seems to be in some sort of a rant-chant-dance in the morning light of a winter morning

To oh one two

To oh! one two

To oh! one two

and everyone is waiting for the three

Calamity finality

a count up blow

to oh one two

to oh! one two

to oh one two

and everyone is praying on their knees

paying little big time end time fees

Calamity finality

totality of bancorrupcy

yet another exploitation of our fears

from heart beats' race to flushy tears

a blow up count

to oh one two

to oh! one two

to oh one two

why everyone is buying all those f lying ones

like that returning flying flu from outside to you

and the needle against it

or both fever and folly in the meat on your plague

and a tighter controll at animal farm

oh recycled tales of instability and emergency

serving rules of oppression

and the repeating of the echo of the end of the worlds

plus another savior to ease transition

to oh one two

to oh! one two

to oh one two

So let me ask you one more time

why is everyone here buying all those f lying ones

instead of beaming with the joyful ones

to oh one two

to oh! one two

to oh one two

[this numerology hidden deep inside mumblology

sends your favorite transaction into space and action

sending out:

money, hopes and beliefs

ethic griefs and the human right for optimism

into various black holes of annihilation

coming in and receiving:

yet another kick for your fear

yet another squeeze for your tear

one more dose of mental slavery

cancel transaction:

time to breath and smile and glow

time for inside outside peace to slow

the quickbeat clickspeed of our fear

and the business in get out of it]