Spirits
Who never hesitated just one moment to demand everything, everything and not only a job there was to endure,
Who drank through the nights of Kreuz-, Schöne- und P-berg long before anybody else,
Who never became sell-outs and preferred to chew old bones, starving of hunger,
Who passed the hours like wolfs; sleeping at day and hunting at night,
Who heartrending snarled at the moon of advertisement billboards,
And who, in their apartments oblivion, howled with the stamping beats of electro swing, ‘til their neighbours ripped their own eyes out in rage,
Who danced on every feast, as long as one would let them,
Who sat and talked on every bash, as long as one would listen,
Who didn’t bother if someone bothered,
Who were capable of understanding everything, but just chose that they would not to,
Who past out at university because the rest of their lives had to do without sleep,
Who never wanted to be part of something and argued forever on anything,
Who loved and loved and loved, while they burnt everything around them,
Who hated each other with passion, while they froze in the coldness of their homes,
Who never had one moment of pure bliss, because they recognised the stinking sewers of their worlds in their unveiled mercilessness,
Who fiercely refused to suck the cocks of the ones, they thought didn’t deserve it,
Who pulled their strings right up to their armpits, while they gave presentations on market development for the fanciest companies in town,
Who turned away from everything, that had security and convention tattooed in, only because it was right for them,
Who decided to love one person forever, only because it was right for them,
Who ridiculed everyone who rolled up in the nuclear-powered limbos of exurbia with twenty,
Who chose a life out of a suitcase over the staccato-cadence-arrangement,
Who relentlessly burned for a better world and castrated themselves for it publicly,
Who were ready to die at any second,
Who didn’t just unsuccessfully play with the thought of suicide,
Who felt every day as a burden and spitted in its face full-throatedly,
Who didn’t understand the concept of respect,
Who didn’t understand the concept of drawers and rather smashed the whole desk,
Who scratched symbols and perverted sentences on the walls of their rooms and signed their contracts with blood,
Who fell asleep in the subways, because they didn’t want the night to end,
Who woke at Richard-Wagner-Platz at eight p.m. and threw up in front of school kids, commuters and fascists,
Who danced on the roof tops and never said: “One day I will …”
Who saw every second as being wasted, if it wasn’t fuelled with the fire of their youth,
Who heard the call of the road and couldn’t help but to answer it,
Who accepted all consequences willingly to forever burn, burn, burn, burn, burn,
Who ended their sentences with “definitely” and never hesitated to let actions follow their words,
Who composed wordless poetry and startled people with their endogenous noises,
Who weren’t to shy to be inspired and to write never-ending poems as bow to their dead heroes, even and especially as their ring-tone-critics accused them of lacking avant-garde and non-existing inspiration,
Who appreciated their friends more then themselves,
Who cursed on everything and swore on everything, just as it pleased them,
Who have never been able to take anything seriously, especially not themselves,
Who filled evenings with smoking, drinking, and inconclusive philosophising in dusty kitchens with overflowing ashtrays and whiskey from honey jars,
Who jumped dancing down the empty nocturnal streets of Prenzlauer Berg and amused themselves on behalf of the animosities pouring down from the windows of open-minded and tolerant residents,
Who stole apples from super markets because they thought it was outrageous pent up vegetables in boxes,
Who knew they were crazy and were never irritated by their madness,
Who could sing a long to every song with their eyes closed and their arms flapping,
Who seemed relentlessly tough, when their angle-like faces where lighted from a specific angle,
Who wandered through the darkest streets of Neukölln and never got a strange look,
Who laughed at the pompous know-it-all’s as well as at Punks, Hippies, Nazis’, Children, Businessmen, Catholics, Protestants, Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, Dead, Living, Women, Men, Gays, Lesbians, Transgender, Heterosexuals, Dog-People, Cat-People, People-People, Neanderthals, Cyclists, clitoral, marginal, retrorectalspectral, ecolateral, phallical Nonsense,
Who believed in nothing, but the new day and it’s possibilities,
Who never thought themselves too good for hard work, and took every job as long as it fitted into their schedule,
Those who seldomly had jobs but always time for their loved ones,
Who spent their money on drugs, whiskey, Döner, beer, wine, movies, books and vinyl’s,
Who saw in everything more then just the sum of its parts,
Who without premonition fled into the most remote corners of the world, just because they felt too burdened by the Berlin air,
Who proofed for five years they couldn’t whistle but were still loved for it,
Who refused to give their sacrifice to the corporate way of modern life and were punished with social alienation,
Who found themselves in Pankow at midnight and scribbled slogans from Monty Python movies on the walls of houses,
Who booed down theatre plays, while the rest of the audience celebrated them excessively,
Who measured the difference between dreiviertel vier and viertel vor vier by their empty glasses and couldn’t find a difference,
Who never understood the concept of money and thought it was ridiculous,
Who annihilated their plays publicly, because people applauded them,
Who waited for the arrival of the first plane at the BER and died of alcohol poisoning before they even saw a glimpse of it,
Who went by train from Görlitz to Berlin hysterically laughing and bathed in the fading intoxication of the foregone night,
Who publicly took the piss out of everything,
Whose gums wouldn’t swell down after too much booze until once again they rolled over the floors ripped and happy,
Who, instead of waiting at train stations, rather hang out in the surrounding sex-shops, mobile-shops, radio-shops, retail- shops, knickers-shops and bockwurst-stalls,
Who, as soon as they set foot into a house, threw themselves onto the ground and invocated the God of Death to instantly kill every infidel – most of the attendants were put off,
Who drank through two days straight only to determine, if by doing so the rotation of the moon would change as soon as they’d close their eyes,
Who laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed until their midriff ripped and their facial muscles failed,
Who danced on the protest marches while the dumpsters burned and casted their ghostly shadows,
Who lay down under a Soviet tank for five bucks and called the passersby on their way to the memorial dinner of the memorial for help,
Who puked with a salute into the porcelain goddess every time someone evangelized about their investment-hedge-funds-idols, or their catch-perspectives, or their prevention-opiates,
Who figured the thought of a prison of the mind as unbearable and rather chose self-effacement,
Who jumped bebobping as nighthawks to the sounds of jazz and Jazz and JAZZ with back handsprings through the nights of Wedding,
Who stand on the rooftops while sunrise and screamed: “Hollallallaritimitikrababudaha!”, while drumming the rhythm of the world on their bellies,
Who truly believed that they would live forever as long as they burned under the rhythmic clatter of the electrical substations and the rat-rat-rat clicking of the street lights,
Who died or will die in loneliness, forgotten by the world but never by their friends – tough for the last of us,
Who said: “We can do everything and everything we can be!” for ever, ever, ever and never with a compromise, or a moment of doubt,
To burn through time, shaking every foundations of the world,
Perhaps much to radical,
Much to little prospects,
But always with a full heart,
And never regretting,
Until the end.
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