Beam me up, Scotty!

As a kid, I watched Star Trek on Saturdays, the sci fi possibilities of life out there fascinated me. Except for Mr. Spock’s weird ears, Captain Kirk and Scotty, not much remains clear but a hodge-podge of eerie creatures. Recently at the Essen Philharmonic, awed by stunning Beethoven sounds- I looked up and thought of the starship Enterprise.
Part of the sound system – so out of the world looking!

Dead weight


The storm in early June left massive damage in the landscape. Weeks later the victims- once proud and tall – await transport after having been sized down into manageable chunks.
A sad sight, taking into consideration the huge empty spaces and gaping holes in the park.




1. a receptacle for holding goods

2. a portable compartment in which freight is placed for convenience of movement

An abandoned flood gate provides a compartment space for a little vessel. 

Contained by the walls and the gate, which no longer open on a daily basis:

Time is preserved  at the old Papiermuehlen Schleuse in Essen-Werden. 


Summer Loving




It is difficult to adjust to summers here in Germany- after seasons of Greek summers. The scenery makes up for some of it, but while everyone complains of the “heat” I am still sporting a jacket or sweater…even when temperatures reach 30 C plus, my body does not say “Take me to a pool, a river or a lake” to cool off.

The outdoor pools are PACKED and I really don’t want to swim with so many others in a confined space. The rivers and lakes near by are not safe for swimming and if you take one look at the color – dark green, brown – I, think of creatures which might lurk down there….

So, swimming? No thanks!

Recently, I read this:

“Some of the best memories are made in flip-flops” 

Johnny Walker style—> I keep walking!





an object surviving from an earlier time, especially one of historical or sentimental interest.


a part of a deceased holy person’s body or belongings kept as an object of reverence.


an object, custom, or belief that has survived from an earlier time but is now outmoded.


This old type writer my youngest fell in love with, at a flea-market and purchased for 2 Euros, now sits on a shelf in my room. It is reminiscent of writers like Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, William Burroughs,  Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Miller, Bukowski and so many others, of an era long passed – like this then indispensable tool- they gather dust on the shelves of the libraries around the world – hoping to be rediscovered.

Under Construction


(Painting by kind permission of WILD)

My life seems like 

a giant construction site

Things permanently 

pop up

that need fixing.


I keep 

my eyes wide open

for signs.

Not an engineer

nor an architect by trade

I dabble in self taught


and make shift repairs.

My ideas 

the nails.

My determination

the hammer.


Sometimes I lack 

the necessary equipment.

The nails come up short

the hammer falls to pieces -

grasping for straws.


Precarious results -

legs  trembling from the effort.

High strung -

The strain to keep 

it all stable.

Not many occasions

to admire the work.


Sometimes I think

if I sit a moment too long

I will be swallowed 

by the holes in the road.

Travel Theme Decorations


The fishing game

If you have children, this will take you back some years. 

You will no doubt have spent endless hours at the local little kids amusement park/fairs. 

These colorful ducks held a magical attraction. They had to be caught with the little fishing rod. Every duck a win! The prizes usually very cheaply made toys, replicas of the “real thing”. And the kids knew it too! Which did not keep them from looking forward to the next time. They always discussed which toy they would select next.  I don’t think they ever really played with the prizes, longer than it took to get home.

Throwing money like bait!

When nothing can turn back time



A great many years tied us together.

You often wished 

your English was better


I usually got your stories of

life lessons anyway.

Sometimes I baked 

sweets for you in return.


Once when you were very sick

I gave blood for you 

when my own father 

had just passed away.

I told you to see 

the success of your operation

as a gift

denied to others.


On your early morning walks

you sometimes sang 

so loud

swinging your cane

not a care for what anyone thought.

You took your morning coffee 

in the square 

watching the world wake up.

In the summers

evening found you 

on the balcony

in your favorite chair

surrounded by your children 

and grandchildren.

A happy old man.


My last memory of you

our sad good bye

one September morning

a shy embrace 

and tears.

Deep in my heart

I knew that 

we would not see 

each other again.

I never took 

the chance to tell you

how much I cared for you.


Nothing can turn back

time now.

I honor your life 

and pay my respects

from far away

and hope that 

there is that place 

where we are reunited

with those

we loved.

Rest in peace!




Taken from an installation named Αρτεμης, goddess of the hunt and wilderness. Representing the bow.



1. form into a bent, curling, or distorted shape.

2. cause to rotate around something that remains stationary; turn.


1. an act of turning something so that it moves in relation to something that remains stationary.

2. a thing with a spiral shape.

Let’s not  twist again

The end:

A twisted reality.

John finished

twisted and bitter

- while Jane

spun away. 


Finally too deep

he’d twisted 

the knife.

Too far

to ignore

the twisted

actions, words and humor.


Doing the twist 

for years


laughing happily.


His aloofness

often sent her

round the twist.

His evasiveness

left her

with her knickers 

in a twist.

Oh but his charm

is what initially 

twisted her arm.

His persistence 

twisted her 

around his 

little finger:

When they first met