Below is a small sample of current and past poems (in German and English), which I have written. My collection is much larger and perhaps these poems are not my best samples, but they are the ones, which I have typed here first. Please expect more poems to appear here as time goes on. Furthermore, I make no claim to be a good poety. I am merely happy to be one.

 

When a moment seems, as if plucked from dreams,
Almost real to the touch, yet expecting too much,
A vision of pure beauty is passing within reach.

Drifting near for its greeting, creates fear of its fleeting,
Yet bound by its force, in contemplation of the course,
To sieze the chance not granted to each.

Whether true or not, exists the thought:
That pure beauty has only form,
Before doubted, judged and reduced to norm.

Observing its passing, but painfully tempted,
Since denying possession promted the question,
If this time beauty would have actually consented.

 

I have no idea what it is like to have somebody lost,
When soldiers are shot and enemy lines crossed.
In the wars no one close to me died, I haven't felt sorrow, I haven't cried.
My Grandfather helped our country stay free, for every Canadian like you and me.
For a person, whose loved ones died, for them I think it may be tougher,
I haven't felt November Sorrow, I haven't had to suffer.

When I imagine a war I see a scared, yet brave soldier with a gun,
I see shooting and killing and people not having fun.
Wars are fought in snow and rain,
I haven't felt November Sorrow, I haven't felt the pain.

Thank the Lord for the people who risked their lives,
Some lost friends, family, children and wives.
They fought in the air, sea and dirt,
I haven't felt November Sorrow, I haven't felt the hurt.

November Sorrow to someone else, may have a different meaning,
Whether it's loved ones missed, or it's bombs in the night screaming.
Others have family who may have died,
They have felt November Sorrow, they have cried.

They think of memories of loved ones gone,
Whether it's Uncle Bill or Grandpa Don.
The most painful time for the families I would say,
Is when they awake on that cold November day,
And on their way to the graveyard comes that cold November Rain.
That is when November Sorrow strikes, that is when they feel the pain.

On November Eleventh I will wear the Poppy Flower,
For that whole day and not merely for an hour.
I will honour those people who have kept our country free,
To love, to cherish and for all to see.
So when Remembrance Day comes in the Fall,
I guess I will feel November Sorrow, after all.

Coming soon

Manchmal fällt mir der Gedanke ein,
Dass du nur für mich geschöpft worden bist.
Davor hast du in entferten Sternen gelebt,
Und bist jetzt nur für mich zur Erde gerufen worden.

Manchmal fällt mir der Gedanke ein,
Dass dein Körper und dein Herz für mich im Vertrauen gehalten worden waren,
Dass das Licht deiner liebevollen Augen nur meine Welt erhellt,
Dass deine Lippen und Armen nur für mich sind.

Manchmal fällt mir der Gedanke ein,
Dass du nach mir sehnst. Wenn du nach mir nach oben schaust, weiss ich,
Dass du in das Unbekannte erblickst und weisst,
Dass das bekannte Ich bald wieder deine Nähe findet.

Aber trotzdem,

Manchmal fällt mir der Gedanke ein.