Mouvelle&Liv

A theory starts forming

Through the numbing mourning

That fact that something's missing

Crawls through the reminiscing

Something that I forgot

Somewhere where I am not

A vital organ of some kind

One I'll never ever find

My feet in the tide?

My lungs in the wind?

My nose in the sea?

My eyes in the sand?

It can't be my heart

For I feel it start

Whenever I think of you.

~Liv
June 2016

I lit a candle and sparked up hope
No more that I could do
Small red reflections in flickering eyes
Made me feel proud and blue

I lit a candle and thought of you
Like I do everyday
Sparked up the mem'ries of when you where here
Made sadness go away

I stand in ashes and look around
With feelings that I fight
Boiled things that were once beautiful
For I lit a candle
And everyone died

Liv

With the sweet mystery of dark romantics fading
I prepare myself for dawn
Who'll punish me for dreaming
When loud colours strike me back
And fanciful darkness stops concealing
That's when I feel desires
Longings different from the nights'
Longing for the foamy softness
Of my one true friend once light
For when our lips meet
Things always feel less dreadful
Less routined
And the liquid hope makes me believe
I just might make it through
What would I be without you
My faithful love
Coffee to go ♡

Liv.

There is this genius poem by John Betjeman called "Slough". I am kind of in love with that poem ever since January (when I was watching BBC's The Office, which is how I got to know of it). I finished school in June, but the couple of months before that were pure torture. I was already so done with everything that I mostly sat in class drawing or doodling - or writing poems.
I wrote this one in style of "Slough". So maybe you should read that first to fully appreciate mine. Your decision :) The link is here. Have it as a belated Back To School present. You'll get through this. I promise.


Looking around I understand
This poem of another's hand
'bout friendly bombs that meet the land
And leave some air

So friendly bombs, come take the school
Where some might think they're born to rule
Turning the brightest into fool
And cause despair

My bombs, I dare you to be bold
Disrupting this pretentious fold
With foreheads hot and tears so cold
We cry at home

End daydreams that are no escape
And end the pencil's pointless scrape
And end the bleached out minds they shape
And burn their throne

And smash the blackboard, hurt and stained
With chalk scars as all that remained
Teacher's been for murder trained
To play with fears

Mess up this mess they call a town
And tear the dirty buildings down
Just leave the dust the rain may drown
In coming years

February 2015

Outside the rain meets precious soil
My window's open wide
Soft wind is ruffling sleeping trees
The village's fucking pride

Behind the peaceful atmosphere
I reckon a façade
See spite and murder everywhere
which might be just too hard

Just what's your problem, so they ask
And hold me by the wrist
I'm fine, I say , though mentally
I'm sending them the list.

They'll remain happy as I can't
Be the one clearing the fog.
Just someday my window shall be open
And I'll be smelling smog.

Liv

Kick in, Coffee,
I wake up
Staring at my paper cup

Misty probability
Goes towards infinity
While integrals may look quite smart
They still remain some secret art
I like the point B (2l2l1)
But still get vectors always wrong

The trees that had to die stand tall
In front of me: bricks in the wall

I highlight stuff (it's all pretense)
Still, actually, I'm quite content.
Then I get called, What is it? Go!
Standard answer,
I don't know.
My confidence just disappears
The thought of finals causes fears.

Stop using points in 1.6 -
Language, Liv! - What equals x?

I must confess, I do not care
That's the problem, see, right there.

My notebook fills with splendid things,
Lyrics, quotes and colourings,
Drawings, poems, symbols (four).
Just what am I waiting for?
Five minutes - I start counting down,
seconds (nano, micro) drown,
in - four! - the endless way of time,
I pack my things, I see no crime,
Speaking of crime, where is my book?
Two, the clock, where else to look.
It rings, my watch is going slow,
The lesson over,
I may go.

Liv

„Ich könnte theoretisch, eben,
euch eben mal 'n Beispiel geben.
Sozusagen, also, ja,
war eben dieser Autor da,
und wie gesagt, ja, praktisch, halt,
wurde der auch ziemlich alt,
und hat in dieser Zeit halt eben,
mal ein Gedicht von sich gegeben,
da hat er eben mal gesagt,
also, wurde halt gefragt,
ob eben seine Werke, eben,
gute Lit'ratur abgeben,
beispielsweise ein Gedicht,
hier eben eine Übersicht,
gabs da nicht, halt sozusagen -
gibt es erstmal ein paar Fragen?“

Die Wiederholung jenes Wortes
lockt leise Agonie in mir
Plæne zum Verlass des Ortes
Næhren Strategien in mir.
Mit einem Hunger, ungeahnt,
Verzehrt die Kreativitæt
die Füllwørter des Referenten -
zum Lachen ist es længst zu spæt.
In mein Bewusstsein dringt das Faktum
Eines Zusammenbruchs, der droht
Die Flucht in stille Hysterien
Scheint mir der Ausweg in der Not.
Beleidigt mich in meinem Streben,
mich um Sprache zu bemühen,
So wird man mir jedoch vergeben,
Muss ich noch einmal høren:
Eben.

...Liv...

sometimes I really wish I knew
more answers than just 42
the skill and the ability 
to understand humanity
to understand myself, at that
and maybe even to forget
forget every word of Klingon
forget every star trek quote
throw away the starfleet biscuits
and from now on make a note
of being standard, fitting in
of being skinny, tall and slim
to go to parties and have fun
to drink and smoke, a joint, some rum
to use make up and to flirt
to be or not to be a nerd.

yet this poem, it is proof:
the whole endeavour is no use.

WTF, Liv

Der Wind ist fast schon wie zu Hause
Ist nur der Salzgeschmack, der fehlt
Und weht er dort auch ohne Pause
Ohne, dass es einen størt.
Seh das Silberband sich ziehen
Viel zu grade, schon gezæhmt
Denke an die wilden Wehen
Da ist was in mir, das sich schæmt.
Die Sonne geht jetzt Mittags unter
Sommernæchte einst so klar
Und der Alltag steht geschrieben
Zeigt mir, wo ich morgen war.

Liv

Post scriptum: Ich wære jedem, der sich hierher verirrt sehr verbunden, wenn eine Stimme in der Üs-oder-Ys-Umfrage rechts oben abgegeben würde - interessiert mich næmlich, und die alte ward geløscht, von daher... :)

I lit a candle although no one died.
Far away a train goes by.
The millionth game of solitair.
And time goes by. And I don't care.

Liv.