It was my last bottle. But when you meet a bear, you share. He drank it full throttle. (Photographed in Novy Afon, Abkhazia. – But it’s nicer to meet bears who live in freedom.) Advertisements
This sentence is not poetry. This one is.
Posted in Language
“Hi”, said the guy, “I am the spy from Hawaii, but I had to get away. I went to Hong Kong, but I couldn’t stay long. I am still a spy and I would like to fly to … Continue reading
Excuses? None. So I will go for a run in the sun. That should be fun!
The travel poetry continues: I used an app called “Apple Map” but it was total crap and only showed a gap.
After the raving applause for my first travel poem, here is another one: When I was in Mumbai I wanted to meet with a guy called Kai, but he did not reply. Contrary to what should happen, the poetry … Continue reading
My first attempt at travel poetry: I went to the bazaar in Kandahar and bought a cigar from a guy called Bashar. Don’t worry. I will continue to write predominantly in prose. (Zur deutschen Version.)
I don’t know why I go for historical fiction or alternative history again and again, when I should know by now that I’ll be annoyed or disappointed. In Young Philby, Robert Littell tries to flesh out the early life of … Continue reading
I have been living in this beautiful town in Transylvania for almost a year, yet hardly any of my foreign friends have visited me here. It’s not that they wouldn’t be interested, but it’s just too complicated to travel here … Continue reading
Today I turn 39. Based on the statistical life expectancy in Germany I have another 39 years to live. It’s half-time in my life. If this was a football match, you would watch some commercials and listen to daft commentary by a former … Continue reading