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Leselupe.de > Fremdsprachiges und MundART (L)
Like from another Planet
Eingestellt am 13. 01. 2015 10:47


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Like from another Planet

I feel strange,
a stranger in my own skin,
like from another planet.
What surrounds me,
all the rattling,
is foreign to me.
My thoughts seem so insignificant.
Unimportant for the other.
Unimportant, important,
where’s been the difference?
I am alien,
people faces -
how similar they are.
I learned to distinguish sadness and laughter,
even to recognize anger:
Faces have their place in wrinkles
and the voice is loud.
My migration background is space,
nobody does not know where.
You do not understand me,
if I do not speak,
no one understands me.
Every single word they understand, but not me.
But that does not bother me, because I know.
I’m looking,
Seeking differences from all the others,
Rules in the chaos of feelings,
seeking parallels in curvatures
and curvatures in parallels
and explore the letter “i”.
Each dot
its characteristics, each one.
I keep apart the beats,
recognize the anger because it raises its voice,
the silence is shrill:
“When do you clean up your stable?”
Yes, when.
For me, another part is essential.
Every thing must have its place in chaos,
each letter its right place,
every “i” point its curvature.
Sometimes the point is combined with the “f” to “fi”.
When I arrived, I had forgotten my language,
Forgotten each language,
sucking milk.
The air was found to be comfortable and breathable,
I was not aware of where I was,
learned everything.
Learned to read faces,
To provide answers,
and to avoid stupid answers.
Unimportant is important to me and a few others.
What does not belong in the series:
Two, three, five, seven, nine?
Of course, nine, I say.
No, “two” is the correct answer.
One, three, five, seven …
Which number follows?
Five.
No one is saying this is wrong.
But I look at the faces, they do not believe me.
I’m standing at the bus stop — thinking.
All around the color patches
move.
I do not see.
Five minutes ago I watched a friend’s eyes.
He watched me.
I say “Hallo!”
I hear a joke.
I should laugh now.
I laugh.
The teacher asks a question while I’m sleeping.
“Can you please repeat, I did not understand?”
And then I answer. As I slept, I answered differently, but it’s true.
I often fell asleep.
Or let miniature balls roll across the desk.
It was so interesting
to follow their web.
Then I had a school friend,
at last,
also interested in transistors.
I became a monster of movement, in my movements.
Foreign, see.
Could I but dance.
My hair is gray.
One society changes to another.
And yet nothing changes.
I walk through jelly,
the pansies are transformed into strawberry ice cream.
One, three, five, seven, five, three, one, nine, eleven, thirteen, eleven, nine, eleven ninety-nine.

The television.

The radio.

Ramblings. Nothing more.
__________________
Copy-Left, samisdada, Dada Dresden

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