Tag Archives: words

“Delirium” by Reha


i vividly remember –
building castles in air
entering doorways through a light beam
meeting strangers with familiar eyes
i remember it all too well

neither a dream
nor cognitive distortions
maybe this is the world
i’ve always belonged to

where you stamped
the castles, as failures
the doorways, as heartbreaks
the eyes, an ethereal illusion

but darling all this while
you were the moon in delirium
and i the sunlight,
hoping one day
you’d find your own light.


“Delirium Design” by Jonathan Falk

Poetry by Reha, picture by Jonathan.


“Shutdown” by Eva Maria Freshmaker

when raindrops
turn into waterfalls
butterflies get caught
in dusty spiderwebs

denouement requested

“Shutdown” by Eva Maria Freshmaker

Picture and poetry by Eva Maria Freshmaker.

​”Unspoken Tales of Art Poem Series” – Reha

​Unspoken Tales of Art Poem Series//

It all starts
One dark night.
One face,
Buried in the pillow.
Another face,
Transfixed towards infinity.
One’s feet,
Can’t move out of bed.
Walking the edge of terrace.
Tired of carrying stones,
Of past in the heart.
Exhausted, speaking to those
Who never lend an ear.
One depressed,
Another heartbroken.
One giving in,
Another giving up.
But none knows,
How lives can change,
In a flash of a moment.
How a thought
Comes by the wind,
Flickering the candle
Turning the pages,
Of your current chapter
To one, you never knew
Existed in your story.
Sweeping you far away
From the fields of emptiness
And filling you with an ecstasy
Not everyone’s gifted to receive.
And that my dear
Is how art arrives.
In a flash of a moment,
Flying in through the window,
Settling down beside you,
On the sheets,
Streets, terrace,
Wherever you are.
Simply waiting
For you to step in,
The rebellion called art,
And begin creating
That lasts a forever.






I know,
There’s something more to you,
Than what you seem.
I know,
There’s a myriad of hues,
Beneath your bones and skin.
I know,
You try to camouflage in the crowd,
But there’s miles of mysteries within.
And I think,
I know more than a few things.
I feel,
As if I already know you.
From a different time and space,
Where you didn’t care,
About people, place or pursuit.
Where you embraced,
Your reflection more than opinions.
Where you believed,
Your words over scripted quotes.
Where you allowed yourself,
To breathe more than respiration.
Where you used to be You,
And not just a hologram of You.
And always know,
That I’ll know,
How much you’ve seen all this time,
Never knowing what it might do to you.
How far you’ve drifted away,
From what you are meant to be.
How long you’ve been struggling,
To give this journey a purpose.
And although I can’t tell,
How long life’s furnace,
Will keep breathing fire.
I surely know,
A diamond is in making.
Keep evolving,
As the world revolves.
Just try,
Never to get so hard,
That you become one,
Which breaks itself into pieces.
Watch my words,
But never let them grow over you.
Read me,
Never become me.






I don’t always have
The best lines to write,
Yet I scribble.
I don’t always know
Of the nicest words to say,
Still I speak.
I mostly don’t know
Where to end a poem,
But I do pause,
Where thoughts take a turn,
Where memories flood in,
Where going on gets tough,
Where it’s simply a wait until next time.
I pause,
But never stop.
I decorate,
Every chapter of my life,
With commas and brackets,
And when I feel like putting an end,
I plant a semicolon instead;
For art has no end.
You can pause,
But never put a full stop.
And you and me,
And everyone in between,
Are nothing but nature’s portraits.
Sculptures that speak,
Flesh that feels,
Heart that weaves,
Mind that thinks,
And confuses,
Pause with rewind,
Play with stop.
Only to replay,
Every single word,
Once again.
For there’s no full stop,
Only a pause.




“Going D’accord” – Oliver Ritthaler & Jonathan Falk

The road was long. In most moments we fought boredom, didn’t we? And we won. So we are here. I won’t regret a thing. Like you.

Remember those days we pasted up stickers all over the town, some works still to see. Think of us djing in dark locations until sunrise (What happened there, stays there, oh, my beauties, oh, wet walls…). Or imagine how we performed poetry in front of the working ministry, including laughing unemployeds. This was my story but now it’s ours.

We got children. Some are ours. Some are loved the same. Or are older than we both together. I have no clue of what I am talking about, that’s why I am wiser. Come into my arms and feel warmth, sister, brother, forever alien insecurities.

May the future judge, some content analysing bots or just the dust in the wind. Our hearts pump, it’s their job, blood. Your hearts may jump, that’s their will, pressure. The world’s music moves us on eternally. Everything will be alright, as long as we go d’accord. 

“Going D’accord” by Oliver Ritthaler & Jonathan Falk

Original picture by Oliver Ritthaler. Edit of picture and words by Jonathan Falk.

“Another Bloody Twilight” – Reha

“Another Bloody Twilight” by Reha


Summer had begun,
Like many of those before,
When you rolled on the green grass,
Tossing smiles brighter than the sun.
But then came the stormiest night,
When you shut yourself in the walls,
Tearing apart all your reasons,
To smile, to dream, care and celebrate.

Drawing upon the bright sun,
Strokes of an atrocious purple sky,
Turning the priceless smiles,
Into a canvas of red so vile.
Which looked like a bloody art,
All except Satan would despise.

Yet such crimson skies,
Dawn more than once in a while.
When they rush into the walls,
Of cheerful banter and peace,
And leave by only debris
Of malice bathed in blood.

Numbing every feeling,
Snatching every smile,
They enjoy the screams
And fireworks of red tears,
As the world mourns in silence
Yet another bloody summer twilight.


“We Are All Puppets” – Oliver Ritthaler

Down at the beach
I find my inner Child.
Back on the street
I find my inner Warrior.
Deep in the woods
I find my inner Explorer.
Back at home
I find all Myself. (or)

“We Are All Puppets” by Oliver Ritthaler

We are all puppets,
Some on a string, some with long
Swing, some lost one wing.

Don’t leave them on beach,
Care them, they bleach in a sun
We will never reach. (jf)

“Birth Of An Identity” – Reha

We all know past is past,
But forget not
It’s always meant to last.
From childhood snaps
To treasured friendship bands,
From farewell memories
To forgotten buddies,
From warm tattered diary pages
To voices unheard since ages,
We all have a past that has split us,
As much as it has built us.

Walking down one such
Foregone summer day,
I recollect how life
Never accounted my say,
When every effort
Used to go in utter vain,
And staying alive
Became an incorrigible pain.
Came by a blessing,
From a human I never knew,
Wrapped in a text that read,
“To live the life you are meant to,
Do the things you really want to.
And fear not the unpredictable unknown,
Follow your calling
And you’ll reach the right zone”.
Stunned at those effortless words
Of a stranger from nowhere,
I stood perplexed
Almost concluding it to be
A hoax pretty unfair.

But just then it clicked to me,
God helps only those
Who helps themselves,
And never does he appear
Straight out of statues and portraits.
So believing in those words
I took over a pen,
And brought a closure
To all that my heart ever contained.

What happened next
Has transformed into a beautiful past,
Like the unforgettable Eureka
That still happens to last.
And though that stranger was never found again,
His words of wisdom didn’t go in vain.
For I followed the calling of my soul,
And discovered a writer from the rut of woes.

Today after a year has passed,
Last summer is gone,
For another to arrive,
Just like the wheel of life,
That keeps spinning,
Whether or not you like.
And though I still don’t know
What I really want from life,
But all that I know is
I’ve curated a beautiful past,
That gifted me a new identity
As much as a new life to embark.




“Hot Chocolate” – Jonathan Falk

I am walking to the park. I dream of writing poetry on your body. The feeling isn’t mutual, still I catch some of your sun. Nothing of this is a metaphor. Life is past when we are collecting our memories. Dusty cupboards. Squared fields of weeds. I am standing on a roof. 

Mindfuck needs no preservation. Poisonous thoughts of re-erection of one’s dreams. Rejuvenate the profile. Mind-mapping a wayout-plan, a fallback-system to commons like eating, working and dying. Love is dark matter, an ancient, cruel forest. Keep on walking, slowly, follow the low music.

We’ve all been there, and no matter how long you discuss, we belong together. Mathematicians try to prove our existence by failure, although we are everywhere’s force. Undeniable. Together we fall at walls of individuality. Big like small. A famous massacre. You like me. But: All I want is a peaceful life at your side.

“Hot Chocolate” by Jonathan Falk