Nighty Night (1)

**Sandmännchen** (daily TV show of 10 minutes at 10 to 7, with 22,000 episodes since 1959)

Hello,

I am your little sandman, and I am not sure you remember me. I used to send Mathias into a good-night’s sleep through a small black-and-white TV. The little rascal slept a few minutes after seven until the morning. I used to send his son to sleep through VCR tapes, when they lived on that island. I can send you to sleep through the much more powerful interweb. When you are ready to go to bed, let’s begin. (I never spoke, for you I will.)

Open your eyes wide, then you will see me arriving on a light-blue helicopter, landing in the park nearby. Can you hear it? Now listen to the song the children are singing.

There is still time for a little bedtime story:

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess. She was quick on her feet all day and tired in the evening. But during the night the dreamees often came, woke her up, and kept her awake. The princess talked to the herb fairy, the alchemist, and the powerful speller. She so wanted to sleep through the night. And none could help. One day, it was dark already, she looked around her bedroom. The beautiful things and the cozy atmosphere. And there was the dreamcatcher. On the wall. Nothing had been caught in its web. Nothing could be caught in its web, the beautiful princess said to herself. So, she got out of her bed again, gently unhung the dreamcatcher, and put it on the balcony door, where it belongs. The dreamcatcher vibrated quietly. She could feel it, went back to bed, tucked herself in, and slept until the morning.

And if she has not died, then she is still alive today and sleeps through every night.

Now, it is time. Close your eyes, or leave them open. As every evening, I am spreading my sleepy sand in everybody’s eyes. You can wash it out in the morning. (And yes, you can still take your melatonin, but you really don’t have to.)

mean the name

mean the name
++
there are many of us
grandpa said again
we were left behind 
in east-villages in wars we 
looked after women he laughed
sheriff Schulze
++
at three you were thus 
cute mother corrected
me after cutting in 
her fairytales the family
got a gift of god grandma
meant you Mathias

I wrote the first draft of this text in a workshop on fairytale poems with Leonora Siminovis organized by Hugo House in February 2022. It changed quite a bit since, but I am still riffing on my last name, which is very common in parts of Germany.

Confusion

Everybody knows 63 precedes 64. This makes sense and does not mean much. And then they come to me this week via email from The Book of Changes, the I’Ching, which I have not read – yet – and bring up gates 63 and 64 in my head. 63 — The Gate of Doubt. After Completion. And then 64 — The Gate of Confusion. Before Completion. Now I am confused. 63 precedes 64; After completion precedes Before completion. Where did this begin? Where did I begin? In 63, two Saturns ago. Is that coincidence? No such thing. 58 years of reliable confusion. But I am getting ahead of myself. Doubt after completion is gate 63. I am sensing the past: did I do right? With each beginning a completion? I doubt it. In the now, I am mapping our future in a pile of diapositive slides. I doubt the blur of colors and shades. Glimpses ring through inconsistently. Tomorrow and yesterday dance beautifully, and the music is playing just now. And now, I am accepting to make sense of the past, the gift of gate 64. I am consistently confused, and yesterday and tomorrow dance perfectly. Infinite and null beginnings. I doubt this is the end. In all this con-fusing mystery is the beginning.

Time to catch up with my weekly writing course. This is week 6, and the year has fewer than 46 weeks left.