{"id":19456,"date":"2023-01-18T13:00:05","date_gmt":"2023-01-18T12:00:05","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/stadtsprachen.de\/en\/?post_type=stsp_text&p=19456"},"modified":"2023-01-19T13:59:14","modified_gmt":"2023-01-19T12:59:14","slug":"bettoina-hindes-poems","status":"publish","type":"stsp_text","link":"https:\/\/stadtsprachen.de\/de\/text\/bettoina-hindes-poems\/","title":{"rendered":"Poems"},"content":{"rendered":"

Seasons<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I lost my favorite wool hat<\/p>\n

in a taxi as I rushed<\/p>\n

to see my lover<\/p>\n

It was black and blue<\/p>\n

and so was I<\/p>\n

always in a bad light<\/p>\n

a negative balance of goodwill<\/p>\n

a minute late<\/p>\n

a missed connection<\/p>\n

miscommunication ruled<\/p>\n

where did that feeling<\/p>\n

from the beginning go?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

By the way I wonder<\/p>\n

where do all our lost hats go?<\/p>\n

migrating perhaps to a wooly island<\/p>\n

they\u2019re only here for a short time<\/p>\n

visiting us seasonally<\/p>\n

stopping along their route<\/p>\n

keeping us covered<\/p>\n

until we lose our heads again<\/p>\n

to an undeserving lover.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The Management<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

This is our training program<\/p>\n

To empower<\/p>\n

power<\/p>\n

soft power<\/p>\n

this use, misuse, abuse<\/p>\n

\u2013of power<\/p>\n

\u2013of language<\/p>\n

\u2013of human essence<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

This Internet of Things<\/p>\n

does it include my invisible soul?<\/p>\n

Hacking my Self I enquire:<\/p>\n

What platform is best suited<\/p>\n

to the Spirit?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

We will learn to manage poverty<\/p>\n

Win the War on Terror<\/p>\n

Soothe ourselves with consumption<\/p>\n

We will: cancel or de-platform<\/p>\n

Voices of unrest<\/p>\n

That itching of our conscience,<\/p>\n

Because: freedom has a price<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Yes, sometimes they speak to us<\/p>\n

Unseen but nudging<\/p>\n

Social engineering<\/p>\n

Praising a flat hierarchy<\/p>\n

But I see the top rolling down<\/p>\n

To crumple the little rat<\/p>\n

Pressing on the lever<\/p>\n

And yet I hear<\/p>\n

\u2013angelic hierarchies<\/p>\n

I even stop to smell<\/p>\n

\u2013the digital roses<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Take our product<\/p>\n

to the next level!<\/p>\n

the job promises<\/p>\n

with room for growth<\/p>\n

In what direction?<\/p>\n

Becoming human<\/p>\n

\u2013being human,<\/p>\n

needs a mansion<\/p>\n

under the open sky<\/p>\n

not a cubicle<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

What is that start-up feeling<\/p>\n

That out-of-the-box thinking<\/p>\n

This one-time opportunity – willing<\/p>\n

To revolutionize the industry?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Who are the unseen?<\/p>\n

What movement for progress<\/p>\n

Has a monopoly on truth?<\/p>\n

We are the lonely wisdom keepers<\/p>\n

We sing, praise and pray<\/p>\n

Yet\u2013<\/p>\n

Can we be managed?<\/p>\n

Be flat?<\/p>\n

Two-dimensional<\/p>\n

One dimension of<\/p>\n

Virtual reality<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Last Supper<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The Lord\u2019s last deed was<\/p>\n

to share a meal with his closest buddies.<\/p>\n

I get nervous around food, and groups<\/p>\n

not to mention the dreaded buffet.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I can see the picture now:<\/p>\n

There is wine, bread, and fish,<\/p>\n

And oil. Definitely a lot of oil.<\/p>\n

I hear the women in the room below<\/p>\n

Preparing the food,<\/p>\n

refilling the wine jugs<\/p>\n

with that red liquid;<\/p>\n

mixing it with water<\/p>\n

as is the custom<\/p>\n

to quench our thirst.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I think the word is social phobia or anxiety.<\/p>\n

I am afraid of what I might do:<\/p>\n

– scarf down five portions of bread?<\/p>\n

– gulp down all the wine?<\/p>\n

Deep down, I\u2019m always wanting more.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

After this week of throngs and multitudes<\/p>\n

Of raising from the dead and riding donkeys<\/p>\n

I understand our teacher must leave.<\/p>\n

But where is he going?<\/p>\n

What will we do when our Beloved is gone?<\/p>\n

How to fill the emptiness we\u2019ll surely feel?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Would I be satisfied in the presence of the Divine?<\/p>\n

Or would I still be shoving food down my gullet?<\/p>\n

As it is, I\u2019m addicted to matter:<\/p>\n

I like the touch and feel of this world.<\/p>\n

The way butter slides across a slice of toast.<\/p>\n

The smell of a freshly lit cigarette.<\/p>\n

The taste of my lover\u2019s kiss<\/p>\n

lingering in the evening.<\/p>\n

And the sight of the sun peeking from behind a cloud<\/p>\n

to warm my face.<\/p>\n

But I\u2019m unable to withstand feelings<\/p>\n

of emptiness and separation.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Surely, he cannot mean what he says<\/p>\n

Take this bread as my body.<\/p>\n

Then,<\/p>\n

Drink in remembrance of me.<\/p>\n

and so,<\/p>\n

I always drank to feel him close.<\/p>\n

One glass of red, or white<\/p>\n

followed another.<\/p>\n

Or even shots or beers all around.<\/p>\n

Yet he remained hidden;<\/p>\n

his apparition would fade.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

My heart remained<\/p>\n

empty as the<\/p>\n

grave.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Until I stopped looking<\/p>\n

and grasping and suddenly –<\/p>\n

it was filled to the brim with love.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Water became wine and I was drunk<\/p>\n

on shared humanity.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Seasons   I lost my favorite wool hat in a taxi as I rushed to see my lover It was black and blue and so was I always in a bad light a negative balance of goodwill a minute late a missed connection miscommunication ruled where did that feeling from the beginning go?   By […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":19308,"template":"","categories":[52,11],"class_list":["post-19456","stsp_text","type-stsp_text","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-issue-24","category-lyrik"],"yoast_head":"\nPoems - stadtsprachen<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/stadtsprachen.de\/en\/text\/bettoina-hindes-poems\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"de_DE\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale:alternate\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Poems - stadtsprachen\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Seasons   I lost my favorite wool hat in a taxi as I rushed to see my lover It was black and blue and so was I always in a bad light a negative balance of goodwill a minute late a missed connection miscommunication ruled where did that feeling from the beginning go?   By […]\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/stadtsprachen.de\/de\/text\/bettoina-hindes-poems\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"stadtsprachen\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:publisher\" content=\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/Stadtsprachen\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:modified_time\" content=\"2023-01-19T12:59:14+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:image\" content=\"https:\/\/stadtsprachen.de\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/01\/sm24_12.jpg\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:width\" content=\"1024\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:height\" content=\"683\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:type\" content=\"image\/jpeg\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:site\" content=\"@stadtsprachen\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Gesch\u00e4tzte Lesezeit\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"4\u00a0Minuten\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\\\/\\\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\\\/\\\/stadtsprachen.de\\\/en\\\/text\\\/bettoina-hindes-poems\\\/\",\"url\":\"https:\\\/\\\/stadtsprachen.de\\\/en\\\/text\\\/bettoina-hindes-poems\\\/\",\"name\":\"Poems - 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