To poets, artists and other lost spirits

They say the artists get there before the poets do.
And the poets get there before the storytellers and the scientists, eventually. Myths and tales of heroes and martyrs, painted and envisioned in beautiful artworks made of paint, paper and words. Stories that are as relevant today as they have been thousands of years ago, only that we got blind to them on one eye or both. Stories of sacrifice, adventurers and monsters to defeat. Stories of facing ourselves, the devil or god himself and retrieving priceless treasures or getting destroyed in the process to be reborn.

Sometimes paintings can speak of emotions and ideas while poets take another 100 years to find a way to put them in words. But eventually, they catch up and so do the storytellers and writers after them. This is the endless process of exploring and unfolding the world, discovering things we barely even dreamed of before and embedding them into our understanding of the world and deep into our souls, making them a part of our culture and identity to give forth to our children and grandchildren. We take what we dream, feel and experience when we dive into the Unknown and try to shape it into something we can grasp and handle like a potter does with clay. Nobody knows where some of these treasures come from but there is undoubtedly something transcendent involved, deep in our souls or something out there that we don’t quite understand.

Nonetheless, every picture we paint, every poem we write and every story we tell is part of our world’s learning process and becomes part of our culture and it’s value should never be underestimated.
If you feel like painting, paint.
If you feel like writing, write.
Don’t keep the treasures to yourself, create something and involve some courage. If you can, go where it’s scary. You might surprise yourself and discover something unmeasuredly valuable in the process. Write about what you feel and what you love, turn it into an artwork. One if it’s kind.
There is nothing to be gained from playing it safe. Go all in, give it all you got and see what happens.



Pretty damn close

We left our small apartment at the corner of the main road to dive into the colorful city, pulling the door into the lock as a warm breeze hit us with countless tastes of nightlife.
She grinned at me and I could literally taste how excited she was for tonight. I took her hand and followed the scent of her perfume. Classy was an understatement and she wore that night-dress like it has been designed just for her. The town was probably flooded with beautiful women but to me, she would put all of them to shame tonight.

A small nightclub caught our attention as we walked the streets. “Swing, Blues and Rock’n’Roll tonight!” said the sign and we both knew that we wanted to pay it a visit. Quickly the rhythmic sounds and playful music lured us inside and we found ourselves sitting at the bar, hesitant and watching other people dance. Eventually, the music faded into something more romantic and I just couldn’t help it.
Before she knew it I had pulled her onto the dance floor. Dancing wasn’t our strength but we tried our best to move to the music without making total fools of ourselves and eventually we started to figure it out. She had a natural sense for moving exactly the way that would drive me insane and I just couldn’t stop looking into her pretty eyes. Or maybe I was just so in love you could hardly stand it, who knew at this point.

We ate something and laughed about stupid stories before we decided to head home and leave the town to itself.
Moonlight softly covered the riverside street we took to walk back home and made the waves glimmer like diamonds. It got a bit colder so I stopped and wrapped my coat around her body, pressing a kiss on her forehead. “You know…” I said, while I closed the buttons bottom to top.
“Hm?” She lifted her gaze into my eyes, smiling.
“I was almost afraid we wouldn’t make it.”
“We almost didn’t.” she replied, wrapping my scarf closer around my neck so I stay warm.
“It made us stronger, didn’t it? It made us who we are. Sometimes we need to burn off the dead wood to thrive again and become who we are supposed to be.”
“And who are you now?” she grinned.
I looked at her, surprised by the question.
“Someone new, I suppose. Still a bit of a mess but all things considered…” I replied confidently, looking down before I glanced at her pretty face again.
“And who would that be?” she asked, searching for something in my eyes.
I thought for a few seconds. I thought of who we used to be, thought of what we went through. I thought of everything we were now. Of everything she meant to me.
“Perhaps… a man who is honest and patient. Who understands his girl and pays attention to her wherever they go. Who admires, respects and worships her when she’s around and even more when she’s not. Who gives her room for growth.  And maybe even someone who she can argue with and walk away from it stronger and happier than before.”
“That doesn’t exist.” She laughed, looking at me.
“Probably not. But he could get pretty damn close to it.” I reply, grinning. “You know… You don’t need me. And I don’t need you. But I think we can be a great team and you won’t believe it but sometimes men grow up a little.”

I took her hands and pulled her softly into my arms.
“Yeah?” she whispered.
“Don’t believe me, just watch.” I said and wrapped her into a hug that could last forever.

Walking home by Pete Rumney

[SPOILER WARNING] El Camino – a short review

With Vince Gilligan’s “El Camino” movie releasing October 11th on Netflix, hundreds of thousands of Breaking Bad Fans finally got their long awaited ending of Jesse Pinkman’s odyssey through the mess Walter White pulled him into.
The show didn’t only stand out for its great story-telling and unique visual design (camera work, color-grading etc.) but also for the ingeniously executed transformation of the protagonist Walter White into the ultimate antagonist Heisenberg, turning Jesse Pinkman from his partner into his victim, who does nothing more than losing and suffering from White’s tyrannical behavior the further you progress through the story.
The show’s finale was quite anticlimactic to many of it’s fans though, probably because many expected a different outcome and a more spectacular ending of Heisenberg’s ‘reign’.
In my opinion it was rather sophisticated and poetically intended by Gilligan because he wanted to show that in the end, Heisenberg was still Walter White and Walter White was still an ordinary man who went insane. An ordinary man who could still bleed, who could still die from his cancer, no matter how powerful he became. He was still not even worth the bullet of the person he hurt the most when Jesse Pinkman refused to shoot him and just let him to do it himself. He left him to die alone, miserable, defeated and perhaps even too much of a coward to end it himself. In my opinion the statement behind the last episode’s script was so much more powerful than any spectacular death could have been (thinking of Gus Fring here). So much for that.
The movie El Camino kind of filled a ‘plot hole’, that was left after Breaking Bad ended and the fans were rather unsatisfied with having no idea what would happen to Jesse Pinkman – now that he became a character the entire world felt bad for and sympathized with.
The movies plot is not exactly long or full of twists. Jesse escapes the scene of Heisenberg’s mayhem in a black Chevrolet El Camino, stops by his friends Skinny and Badger where he recovers a little, gets Badgers car and their money to run away again after the police found out where he is. He manages to get downtown, knowing that a lot of money is still hidden in Todd’s apartment. Frequently the movie goes back and forth between flashbacks and Jesse’s present to explain details and add information about the past, for example how he knew about the money. Here Gilligan also managed to brilliantly visualize how much of a monster Todd really was. When Jesse enters the apartment with the keys he took from Todd’s body, he takes the entire place apart to find the money.
When he finally found it two other guys in police jackets come in, starting to search the place. Jesse couldn’t get away in time and after a stand-off he finds out that these guys weren’t policemen and also there for the money. He manages to convince them to keep him alive if he shows them where the money is and eventually gets away with a third of the almost a million dollars in there. He also notices that the men were from the Kandy Welding Company, who built the cage he was kept in to cook meth for Uncle Jack.
Calling almost every vacuum-store in Albuquerque, he finally finds Ed the cleaner, the guy who offers people a fresh start for 125.000$. Ed takes 125.000$ for Jesse bailing on him the first time he wanted to use his services and demands 125.000 more for helping him out now. Jesse is 1.800$ short and fails to convince Ed to help him anyways, so he is forced to find more money.
He tricks his parents (and the police watching them) into going somewhere else to get him so he could sneak into their house and get two guns he hid in there. Armed, he enters the Kandy Welding Company, killing the two men from before in an unexpected stand-off and taking their share of the money. He pays Ed who takes him to Alaska, with fresh papers, a new identity and a new car for a new beginning.

As usual, the acting and camera work are outstanding and the movie doesn’t lack tense moments that make you hold your breath. I felt pulled right back into the world of Breaking Bad and they did a great job delivering that exact feeling once more.
The plot also makes a pretty important point about effort and reward, that is pretty obviously told in my opinion. Jesse was used to half-assing his way through his entire life and getting away with it somehow but when he confronts Ed he hits a dead end with the remainders of his attitude. It’s only 1.800$ but that serves as a powerful symbol for integrity and the necessary effort to make a change. It’s a matter of principle to Ed and a necessary condition for Jesse to go and confront his inner devil, that partially got him into this situation in the first place.He learns that 50% are not enough. And sometimes, 99% are not enough either. He has to go, confront the evil, risk his life and give 100% to get the thing he wants the most. And if that’s not a classic hero story Breaking Bad style, then I don’t know what it is.
And many say that the movie still didn’t match its full potential, considering the brilliant work Gilligan did on Breaking Bad or Better Call Saul. But honestly, in my opinion I didn’t need to. Most of the high expectations were based on the shows success and the show had much more time to develop the characters, stories and plot-twists it was so famous for. There is only so much you can squeeze into 2h of a movie while trying to remain the usual spirit and quality.
El Camino did a great job doing exactly what it was supposed to do: Providing fans with a proper ending to Jesse Pinkman’s journey. It didn’t deliver anything more or less, while still staying thrilling and satisfying.
It may not be a Triple-A blockbuster but it’s a damn good extra for every Breaking Bad fan out there. And if you haven’t seen it yet, you definitely should!


To my readers and followers.

Hey you amazing crowd at WordPress! 🙂
Today I hit my whopping, breathtaking number of 35 followers on my blog (which is still three zeroes short of what other blogs are getting) but honestly, you have no idea how much your likes and comments mean to me at the moment. I’m from Germany and English is not my native language so I apologize for any mistakes I make.
I’m not afraid to admit that I’m going through a pretty rough phase of transforming and finding myself and that means that I have some really shitty days sometimes. But your support still manages to make me smile in the end of the day when I see all your feedback to my posts coming in. Special thanks goes out to Luna’s Blog for regularly publishing the poetry I send in!
As some of you might know already I’m dealing with the loss of my former fiancee who I still love like mad and writing is probably my only effective outlet right now. Therefore, most of my content is inspired by her cute ass and the memories I have from us and I think turning pain into art is a fairly good way of dealing with it. Yeah yeah, there are plenty of fish in the sea but for gods sake, she is smart, tasteful, honest – a real keeper and if you would see her… f-ing pretty is an understatement. You don’t just let a woman like that go but you also don’t just make a woman like that stay.
Either way, I’m making tons of lemonade from the lemons and I probably never got a better chance to work on myself and shape the way I view the world than this.
I don’t know what the future is going to bring but I know I can do much better than that.
And whatever I find along the way that I think could make the world and it’s people a little bit happier, I will try to put it in words and share it on here so maybe some of you can find something valuable to keep.
I know that you guys are here to stay so I will try to keep posting regularly. I have enough things I’m working on at the moment so I won’t be running out of content anytime soon.
So far my poetry and prose got the best feedback and I would like to ask you guys to comment, what type of content you liked the most and what you would like to see more of in the future. If you have any smart or stupid questions about anything I wrote or about myself, feel free to ask.
Thank you for your support! 🙂

Piece of summer

Slowly but thoroughly
Fall drove summer away.
Sunbathing became
just bathing
when the rain came down.

Umbrellas and boots,
hot coffee and raincoats,
are no things a cricket can use
so she fled to our warehouse
before the winter came.

Lost and alone
her friends were all gone
she sat in the corner
watched people at work.
Industriousness was not quite her thing
but music was one of her talents.

They never found out
where the chirping came from,
too big of a warehouse
too small of a cricket.
So she sat there and played all winter long
like a piece of summer we captured.

83421863Old Warehouse by Sali Herman

The promise

Her hands on my sweater, my gaze on her lips as I hold her by the waist and gently pull her close. 

A kiss, softer than clouds and warmer than the sun, as I brush her hair aside.

I have something to say

so I pick her up and sit her on the kitchen counter.


Kind eyes lay their gaze into mine, and fill with curiosity.

I take her hand, small and delicate but gripping mine confidently

and for a brief moment I get lost in her beautiful face,

forgetting what I was trying to say.

“You okay?”

Yes, I am.
I am okay with this.
I am not only okay, I am grateful and proud.
I used to be her boyfriend but now I’m her man, her partner.
I am everything she needs me to be, whenever she needs it to be.
Now, tomorrow, forever as long as forever lasts.
I am her shoulder to cry on, her friend to laugh with,
her dancing partner and guardian angel.
I am someone to hold onto and someone to trust.
And I will never hurt her again.
I will never make her leave again.
My arms shall only hug her and my lips
shall only know hers.
I want to put the world at her feet.

Smiling, I put my head against her chest and whisper the words before I leave a light kiss on her souls doorstep,

put the pen down
and close the book.



Restless night on too warm pillows,
tossing, turning, trying to sleep
but I can’t get it out of my head.
I can’t get what out of my head?
I don’t know
what I can’t get out of my head.
Is it her? Me? Us?
Or do I just need to pee?
Slowly I slip into nights arms,
passing out into black and white,
colorfully molding fiction and reality
into one wild ride to a place unknown
before a burning thought
rips my mind out of the clouds again.
I pick up my phone
to check on her smile.
Still there.
And the time, while I’m at it.
The alarm, if I set it.
Six hours have been merely
six minutes, so I offer myself
back to slumbers arms and hopefully
it won’t let me escape this time.