This page shows a somewhat random collection of poems I write, most of which have not been published elsewhere (for published ones, please see Section Poems in my Selected Publications). I have taken to this form of creative writing particularly during the COVID19 pandemic, and want to share these thoughts, inspired by my academic convictions, but spreading far beyond the sometimes confining realms of peer-reviewed production of knowlegde. Following my credo “be bold, but gentle”, I hope that these insi/des/ghts capture your interest. Let me know what you think.


Berlin, December 31, 2020 Umwege

wenn wäre
was wäre
wäre Ware
Wege wahren
Wege waren
Ware wägen
der Ware wegen
wahre Wege
von wegen wahren


Can the constitutive outside speak?
Berlin, November 11, 2020

you can’t be inside without me
the it needs the other
I embody [y]our difference
yet I no longer sense my own outside
you are my out
I will be your outside, baby

breathable matter

on the ground against the ground
this would all make sense to Nietzsche 


Sense the City
Berlin, November 2, 2020

SenseTheCity, in collaboration with Adelphi Berlin

the city of the future is multiple

full of justjustjust… just justice, full of decomposable glitter, full of rainbows connecting people’s hearts and ways of walking

the city of the future is built on ungroundable grounds, erected on precarious pillars of libertéégalitésolidarité
in the city of the future, the sun doesn’t burn, but it isn’t lukewarm
I can taste conflict in my mouth, metallic sweetness

here is a place of broken dreams, towers never built, pigeons who died prematurely
binaries are banned from this place
it’s a queer picnic where we don’t have to cover mouth and nose
we’ll have an accessible bonfire

the ghosts from before are conjured to come cuddle up with us
the city is vulnerable
it carries its wounds
resentment is fading
we nurse this city

the city of the future is a space of radical absence
the term expert will sound dinosauresque
we will be citizens again

nature might have struck back
culture might have dissolved            into the meadows
space is public by default
and the birds might have a say in it, too


Bröckelige Tage
Nijmegen, October 18, 2020

Meine eigene Stille brennt mir in der Kehle
Ich kann nichts ohne resentment sagen
Wer lässt Raum für Fragen
Knistern sehen
Glitzernd gehen

Ich starre ein Feld aus Bleistiftstrichen an
flowing abstraction
Dumpfes fühlen – Günter Uecker ZERO

Ich deck dir einen Tisch aus Federn
Wie viel kannst du übersetzen?
Atmen zwischen Farben
Das Ballett des Lebens

Schalenfrüchte sichern ihr Überleben
Auf- und abseilen
Wie viel mehr Farbe könnten wir ertragen?
Wann verlassen wir uns, wer sind unsere Innereien?

(Zen)Trum, Umtrunk, Unmut
Keep spilling
My lighter was drained by a candle