I celebrate Loneliness, to the core:a one-legged table,a glass, burdened with ice while outwardly bleedingand a vase seeking just a whiff of your lingering perfume.I still celebrat
Oh you girls, weary of silence and the night,Can we, in this dark land, believeIn the false moon that hangs beyond the window?Or read poems by the faint lightOf this despairing sta
By morningmy fingers were stubbed like chalk stickworn writingall nightlong love poemsacross the walls of your houseImbued with a deep silence tooand a heavy insult,that happenedto
We are a Berlin-based NGO called WIR MACHEN DAS (‘we are doing it’) and in 2017 we asked authors who had come to Germany from war and crisis zones what we could do for them. Th
