Separate

I don’t usually assign much spiritual significance to death, but on the 8th of December, when two friends and I went to Potsdam to explore an abandoned cemetery, taking a picture felt wrong. In an effort to make something from the experience or somehow preserve it, I sat down and wrote this poem.

Cabin Fever

Cabin Fever Months snowed inA man rinsing and repeatingA sweet song played overTea heated on the stove forUnkempt hair and foggy glassesAnd bastard brain bashed inHe left home fast; saysHe never recoveredWhen looking at me through a cameraI was not so sureAbout my presenceAnd what I should be trying forIt comes back to me when

Living Berlin – Pause

Serenity is hard to find in a city. Even the parks are often crowded with those seeking solace from the bustling pace or somewhere to pause. Only one place is ever truly calm: The cemeteries of Berlin possess a morbid serenity. Friedhof: a field of peace. The German captures a feeling the English “graveyard” misses,