Lifted words,
the wings of hope
keep the heart rhythm.
The joke has its face
down in the dictionary
in line with all codes.
A picture knocks on the door
and when the landlord opens
he becomes homeless.
Clear direction
and forgotten address,
keys in hand can’t help.
Another model brings light,
but that model can’t fly
and keeps its stand high.
Lost souls want to be bright
and while getting standardised
their empty home wastes its life.
Light never asks or demands,
imperfection is the treasure
before the blinding corruption.
– After The Seventh Gate Still A Human Being –
Enamel on canvas
70x50x3,5cm
2020
D->















