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Träumerische Stunde – Erzählungen von Oscar Wilde

Elisalon-Lesung mit Gerrit Berenike Heiter

Die apokryphen Kurzgeschichten von Oscar Wilde sind voller duftender Rosenblätter, schimmernden Perlen und ungeahnten Wendungen. Sie erzählen von den Abgründen menschlicher Leidenschaften, der Gnade göttlicher Inspiration, dem Trost philosophischer Gedanken und dem Geschenk der Poesie des Augenblicks – für eine Stunde, die zum Träumen, Sinnieren und Genießen einlädt – ganz im Sinne von Elisalon.

Wann?
Am kommenden Sonntag, den 7.5. um 17:00

Wo?
Bei Elisa 😉 (bei Schönwetter im Freien)

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Heart Matters

My heart feels shredded and shredded again,
seems like there is nothing left but the bloody mud of its remains
I wonder – should I put it in a mold and bake it?
Eat it and hope by devouring it, it might grow back again in the ripped open cage of my body?
Or shall I put it in the freezer and suck it like a lollypop once it is frozen?
I still have hope…
Maybe I won’t lose myself completely
Though after all these years – I wonder what is left of me for real?
But once I mention my pain and fears – you raise your eyebrows and wrinkle your nose
as if my exposed weakness is a stench you can barely bear
And when I cry and beg you feel offended and injured
Me protecting my boundaries is the worst offense and crime one can commit against you
I wonder what kind of heart resides inside your body – or has it been ripped out too?
Long ago and there is just that hollow cave left haunted by the ghost of your humanity?
Or has it turned into stone for real?
Must be a heavy burden
But maybe that is why what you call kindness and charity weighs so heavy on my chest
I can barely breathe?
Maybe that is why I feel what you call love feels like a stone tied to my leg and – help God – I can barely stay above the water?
But well – you talk of love and sacrifice and solidarity
But have no second thoughts nailing anyone to the cross or bed – well knowing
They can never rise from the dead – no matter how many days they are given.
Dressed up selfishness posing as good will to gain my trust
A fake smile of well calculated friendliness to show the world
that your intents are the purest shade of white
But my pain becomes words and my words become a weapon, my voice becomes my armor
and if I can not move or change you,
at least I know my core is safe from you
The spell is broken
Your pattern has no hold and is blown away
And I still stand here – whole, lovable.
At least my humanity is restored.

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The Abyss

As we stood there

facing the abyss

I felt your hand squeezing mine

I heard your voice like a faint whisper but clearly

in the emptiness between time and time

That’s it – are you ready?

My hand squeezed back and I heard my own voice that time

You nodded and pointed into the darkness at my feet

I am scared

So am I

Will I see you ?

You will

Will I recognize you ?

From time to time

That’s not enough

It has to be

That’s not enough

It will be, you’ll see

And as you whispered those words

your hand reached out

and buried itself deep in my chest

The pain –  it pierced me in agony and ecstasy

In your hand pulsed a small light

Its beauty illuminated your face between then and now

Is it mine ?

It was

You said

Suddenly you throw it into the abyss

Shocked I try to catch it and jump into life

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On Healing after Heartbreak

You can not heal as long as you do not acknowledge you have been hurt:

It is fall again, my daughter has just turned five – she is looking at our fridge where she points at an old picture of the boys, her father and me.
„Look, Mum, it is from back then when we were a real family!
When are we going to be a real family again?“

Damn, I feel as if I am going to cry, stay calm.
So I explain to her that there are many different kinds of real family- like our garden family, the neighbor kids, our friends- families with no parents just grandparents, families with two dads or two mums – families of people who love each other – no matter how they are connected. And I tell her that she is loved by both her parents – no matter where they live.
Still – she is sad and I can still feel pain. Why after so many years do I still feel that heart tearing pain. And then I realize I have never really accepted that I got hurt in first place- I had accepted that life had gotten so much more difficult, I saw that my kids ached. But I didn’t want to acknowledge that someone else had had the power to hurt me – because aren’t I a strong woman? I do not miss him so why should I still ache?
The answer is easy, right? Even you do not miss the person, you lost a huge part of your past identity or role and the gap left behind by the person.
Of course You are whole no matter if you are single or in a relationship but you need to fill the gaps and voids in your social system too- when we broke up, I lost much more than just one person – I lost contact with shared friends, neighbors and family too. And actually I lost my best friend with him leaving.
So the pain I feel … I think it is still there because I am still filling those gaps and it needs patience. I am not the most patient person in general, so sometimes it is easier to ignore those facts but it doesn’t help. Healing takes time, rebuilding your life, identity and social network can not happen over night.
So it is okay if I still keep struggling.
Pain can teach us to grow, we don’t need to carry it with us forever though. But to let it go we first need to face it is there.

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Can you hear my voice?

Can you hear my voice?
It’s nothing but a whisper
But you have no choice
you’ll hear it anyway
Across the sea until it’ll reach your shore
Listen to what I say
Each day I love you more

May your heart be free
may your spirit soar
may you always see
that you’re destined to grow

Because you’re beautiful and dazzling and so immensely strong
and I want to see you fly up there – ’cause that’s where you belong
And I hear you whispering my name:
You and me – we are the same