Silence

Dreams of peace

Ocean of thoughts

Silent prayers

Graveyard

A church

Coffins of soldiers

Orphans

Grey skies-

Weeping willows

The Widows empty eyes

Timeless minutes

Questions

Wet Earth

Life in Eternity?

Silence of God

©denise-a. langner-urso

Schmetterlingsfänger

Eingesponnen in Träume von Licht

In den Tiefen wärmender Kokons

Schliefen Sie bewacht von den Tränen

Vergangener Zeiten

Taumelnde Arien des Glücks

Durch frühlingshafte Meere zu taumeln

Schwebend in den Tiefen der Sterne

Durch Fremde Gedanken zu tauchen

In der Phantasie der Ferne

Sangen ihnen Vögel ein Lied

Erlogen, die Freiheit der Schmetterlinge

In schneebedeckten Nächten

Lichtdurchfluteten Mondes

an sonnengetränkten Tagen

Im Sturm der Gefühle zu Grabe getragen

Verbrannt in gefrorenen Strahlen des Sommers

Stürzten sie wie ein welkendes Blatt

In den Ozean gebrochener Reden

In Herbstgewittern schwärzester Nacht

Begraben unter Lawinen zerbrochener Zukunft.

Eingeschlossen von Triaden Klauen

Lachender Fratzen, der Lüge geweiht,

Leckten schleimige Würmer die Wunden

Enfalteter Flügel weniger Stunden

Von Freiheit gezeichneter Zeit.

©denise-a. langner-urso

Muttersöhnchens brauner Trieb

Glasig sind sie mit leblosem Blick,

vernagelte Köpfe im Schweinchengenick.

Augen so trüb wie sonst nur Tassen,

die fehlen im Schrank bei Vielen in Massen.

Im Oberstübchen das Hirn so krank,

die Stiefel wie Babypopos so blank.

Hosen mistbraun genau wie das Hemd,

der Kampf, den sie wollen um Jahre verpennt.

Mit 16 neu von den Vätern entfacht,

die Glut in der Asche zu Feuer gemacht.

Und fühlen sich riesig die Protze aus Fleisch,

gestählte Muskeln, der Milchbart so weich.

Stark wie die Stiere mit Stangen aus Eisen,

Kerle, die schon in der Jugend vergreisen.

Sie reißen das Maul auf und spucken Gift,

die Galle spritzt ihnen aus dem Gesicht.

Sie leisten Gehorsam dem Dümmsten blind,

und machen nicht halt vor Ausländers Kind.

Marschieren wie bei der Bundeswehr,

das Gebrüll dieser Tiere sucht nach Gehör.

Terrorisieren und prügeln mit Latten,

kommen des nachts fast so wie die Ratten.

Zusammengerottet in wilden Horden,

schrecken sie auch nicht zurück vor Morden.

Zu Haus stelln die Füße sie unter den Tisch

und essen bei Mutter am Freitag brav Fisch.

Die Söhnchen können kein Wässerchen trüben

und doch ganz frech ins Gesicht ihr lügen.

Sie werfen Steine auf alles was fremd

und sind bei ner Nutte doch völlig verklemmt.

Sie polieren die Glatze mit sanftem Griff

Und saufen das Bier nur am Stammestisch,

mit Artgenossen meist unter der Fahne,

die runterhängt wie Schwanz ohne Sahne.

He Mutter, nun schau mal dein Söhnchen dir an

Und prüfe was es heut wirklich getan, -

er hat sich verändert, der niedliche Kleine

und bricht, falls es sein muss auch dir noch die Beine!

©denise-a. langner-urso

Colours of life

The white shine

Of white lights

On white tables

With white shrouds

In white rooms

Before white walls

Hidden

Behind grey walls

Out of grey concrete

From grey house

Before the grey clouds

Of a grey sky

Over my grey city

Full of

Black men

Wearing black coats

And black baggage

Filled with black money

Sitting in black cars

In every black night

Fast out of here

On brown routes

Through brown fields

Grown out of brown earth

Brown fruits

Then brown cows

And brown people

To the

Blue waves

Of the blue sea

And the blue sails

At the blue distance

Of a blue horizon

With blue clouds

Over

Green grass

Of green meadows

In green valleys

With green forests

At green slopes

Of green mountains

Suddenly

The colourful wings

Of some colourful butterflies

Upon colourful flowers

In colourful gardens

As colourful spots

In my dream.

©denise-a. langner-urso

Phooey

Peace provokes power

Peace peers pressure

Peace- proud peacock!

Party politics parochially parched.

Peace pipe passing

Peaceable persons penalized

Persecuted „Peter Pans“

Peace petrified.

©denise-a. langner-urso

Spring (Double Ethere)

I

felt him

as he came

last night at three,

silently walking,

and by no one else seen.

Nightingale was praising him,

a night of satin warm and clear-

brightened by the moon and the stars

a smell of fresh cut grass was in the air.

A million of crickets where chirping loud,

the fireflies light blinking softly-

a caressing touch of the wind,

whispering voices around.

Croaking of frogs then

suddenly silence

water splashing

and I knew

it was

spring

©denise-a. langner-urso

Magic of May

Sweet dreams are a black and lonely night’s pillow

Sweet dreams are a black and lonely night’s pillow

As soft as the feathers of two nightingales

As soft as the feathers of two nightingales

And as soft as a black night’s lonely pillow

Are the feathers of two nightingale’s sweet dreams.

Moonlight and stars at endless horizons

Moonlight and stars at endless horizons

Concerts of fragrance and millions of tones

Concerts of fragrance and millions of tones

Millions of stars at endless horizons

Fragrance of moonlight and concerts of tones

Whispering in the willows and sparkling dewdrops

Whispering in the willows and sparkling dewdrops

Turtledoves, swallows- a nest in a tree

Turtledoves, swallows- a nest in a tree

Whispering swallows- and a turtledoves nest in a tree

Sparkling dewdrops in the willows

Sweet dreams as soft as the feathers of nightingales

Are a black and lonely night’s pillow.

Millions of sparkling dewdrops in the willows

Stars at endless horizons, fragrance of moonlight,

whispering turtledoves, and a nest in a tree-

Two swallows and concerts of tones.

©denise-a. langner-urso

Description of a picture (Phantoum)

Dark clouds over blue mountains

Snow flurry at the snow line-

Black firs and a fountain,

At velvet horizon arises sunshine.

Snow flurry at the snow line-

A roebuck wears his new crown,

At velvet horizon arises sunshine,

Flowers nod their heads up and down.

A roebuck wears his new crown,

Blackbird and thrush jubilate in the vine-

Flowers nod their heads up and down,

Three willows grow in a line.

Blackbird and thrush jubilant in the vine,

Black firs and a fountain,

Three willows grow in a line-

Dark clouds over blue mountains.

©denise-a. langner-urso

Autumn (Rondeau)

Raging winds and dancing leaves

tousle the branches of all the trees.

The hedgehog searches for another last worm,

a lonely deer shivers in the autumn’s storm,

and even the last bird flees.

Sleeping are all the tiny bees

on the river a first ice flow does freeze.

In a cobweb a little spider is born

Autumn is the time of premonition.

The days caressed by a last warm breeze.

before the winter’s sun at horizon thrives.

The hamster hoards a lately found corn;

a hunter blows after shooting the horn.

Autumn is the time of premonition.

©denise-a. langner-urso

A battle of beasts

Leaning back in my armchair I am watching TV

Killer ants marching forward it is what I see.

Roaring as lions, moving slowly as snails

Deadly erected are their scorpion- tails,

And I can feel the children are crying.

Leaning back in my armchair I am watching TV

Outstretched wings of searching eagles for prey it is what I see.

They have claws like a tiger and flutter as bees

Armed with swords like a sailfish far out in the sea.

And I can feel the children are crying.

Leaning back in my armchair I am watching TV

The killer ants become tanks it is what I see.

Rolling across the desert, through sun and rain

Firing their vomit of bullets causing such fear and pain.

And I know the children are crying.

Leaning back in my armchair I am watching TV

Eagles turn into bombers is what I see.

Raining bombs like teardrops on a city of tombs

With mushroom clouds rising out of the hell

And I know the children are dying

©denise-a. langner-urso