The soul of liquids

This is about liquids.
Hard to catch, to keep, to control.
I'm not sure whether I'll ever understand water.
The way it feels when I'm in it. The way it sounds
at the coastline of the sea. Slow motion under water.
The different tastes.
We make sure it's around wherever we go.
Pipes and bottles.
At some places we honor its soul.
Japanese gardens come into my mind.

Never wanted to listen to gasoline.
All we do is blow it up in our engines.
Bills for gallons.
But I would like to listen to oil.
Liquid history.
Ancient stories from the early days of the earth.
Would like to know how it feels, how it smells.
Never did.
Wells are fenced.

Let the Clouds in

Sun lured me.
"Come on, get me if you can.
You're a bit slow, so I'll wait a while
at the end of the highway and play with the clouds.
If you don't make it, you might see me another evening,
somewhere else. But this won't be the same.
We won't be the same.
So try your best and race the car."
Tried hard but she was way too fast.
So I gave up and stopped by.
Opened the windows to let the clouds in.
Together we waited for the stars to come,
talking about those sunny days behind
and those still ahead.

The hidden city

I read a lot about cities these days
and just found some fascinating sentences
published by Ian Chambers 16 years ago -
not that I knew of this guy before:

"The city exists in a series of doubles, it is a real place
and a site of imagination. Its elaborate network of streets,
housing, public buildings, transport systems,
parks and shops is paralleled by a complex of attitudes,
habits, customs, expectancies and hopes
that reside in us as urban subjects.
We discover that urban "reality" is not single but multiple,
that inside the city there is always another city."

Tell me all your secrets

Had my secrets. They popped up somehow. Locked them up.
Was a kid then. Some heavy to carry around all the time,
some I forgot. Shared one once. Wasn't a good idea.
Number one rule in the secrecy business. Keep it.
But we want to know. There are so many around.
Curiosity drives us mad.
That's why we read the news, watch TV,
listen to strangers, feeding their tiny phones on the train.
Speak louder. Please. Can't leave till I heard it all.
Talking to a small box in your hand
Talking in a big one in church
Talking in a cop room, tape recorder running
Add the cameras for a daily show
Tell me all your secrets.
Once you did, you're broke, cut off the line.
Silence.
Dumped that girl when she ran out of secrets, what could I do.
Was dumped by that girl when I ran out of secrets,
what could she do.
Need some fresh secrecy supply.
Should read the old books. Sail to unknown lands.
Walk the darkest streets in another city.
Or ask the government to help me out. They got so many.
But they want to trade. Want their forms to be filled out first.
When did you spend your last one and why?
No no no, not a word.
This one is left.
Thanks for telling me.

Poor as you are

"Ain't got no alarm, no cameras around.
No cash from sales, what sales anyway.
Cops showing up to have an eye on me, wish it was true.
This is American property, believe me.
See these flags at the window, 50c each.
Your gun is my nightmare, 24/7.
Out of business now. Poor as you are. Feel what you feel.
Fear.
Never leaves my soul, but can't tell nobody about it.
Should get me a gun.
Cold metal in my sweaty hand.
Enemies everywhere. All shakin'.
Fear's pulling the trigger. Not me. Not me."

Call from the future

Got a phone call from a friend who travelled to Singapore.
Was a night call for him, noon for me. A call from the future.
So how is tomorrow. Well, it's hot here, snow was yesterday.
People look asian and they like hip hop music.
Lots of jungle around, too.
Remember the phone booth in Matrix? Can't get a lift thru the wire.
Never got that number. Have to wait it out.
May take a while though.

Lost in Snow City

Travelled to another place. Snow City.
Big harbor welcomes large cargo ships with heavy loads of snow.
Picked up by invisible silent Airbus jets setting flakes free,
far above our heads.
Cover all noise and dirt of our busy ugly world.
Give us back some innocence.
Don't let them melt. Shut off the heating.
Keep your fridge doors open.
Met somebody there. Telling me of Angel white lands far up north.
And of roads and cars under the dark water line in Snow City.
Went on these roads to race the car into the night,
back to where I came from.
Lost direction, couldn't see underwater. Put my hands off the wheel.
You're the car. Bring me home.
Wherever this is. Or where it should be.
Drive me to where somebody knows who I am.
'Cause I don't know and can't explain.
There I might ask. Or avoid the question.
Get me some sleep so I can dream. Snowy white.

Our world is inside the mall

Inside the mall, no rain nor snow, always light and comfortable.
Whatever you desire, you just can take it (as long as you own that little plastic card). Staff greets you like an old friend, cares for you like a family member. But at the end you leave. Maybe it is night already and all of a sudden you face the dark and infinite sky. And you feel left alone, weak and tiny. Where is my car. It's cold in this world. This is not my world, not the real one. Go back where you belong. Where we all came from. Where we were fed and kept happy. Love you mall. Will never leave you. Never.

Dreaming Inner City

Chicago Humboldt Park. Back alley at night. High crime area.
Cars turn on their alarms: Don't leave me here in the dark,
don't forget me, I'd drive with you in whatever dream you want,
headlights off, eyes closed.

Cycling at Daylight

On a sunny day in Iowa, cycling on a 7 day tour. I wear a Chicago Cycling Club's jersey showing the city's flag. More than 10,000 people did the ride, from one rural Iowa town to the other. May 2005: days so hot, nights freezing cold. Great fun. No showers.

The night shift

What is on the other side of the moon?
Did Pink Floyd give you
the answer?
Do clouds sleep at night
like we do?
Why does night radio
send us
such fascinating stories?
Doesn't darkness switch our realities
when we read a book at night?
Don't you think that daylight is our world of control,
human rules and machines while at night
we can only watch the sky and listen
(or escape sleeping)?

Turn off the lights to be a night's guest...