tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-234522102012-02-15T16:34:40.186+01:00Eigene Lyrik mit ausgewählten BildernGerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comBlogger17931100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-38245926859937550582012-02-15T07:30:00.002+01:002012-02-15T07:30:02.141+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VNgwGEXf7Eg/TzrU3memKPI/AAAAAAAAFxw/mJrC-4ApFe4/s1600/MarcinKolpanowicz_BuildingOfTheTowerOfBabel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VNgwGEXf7Eg/TzrU3memKPI/AAAAAAAAFxw/mJrC-4ApFe4/s320/MarcinKolpanowicz_BuildingOfTheTowerOfBabel.jpg" width="252" yda="true" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Marcin Kolpanowicz: Building Of The Tower Of Babel<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Meine&nbsp;Gedichte</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">sind Brücken</div><div align="left">über das Schweigen,</div><div align="left">Rettungsinseln</div><div align="left">im Meer der Einsamkeit</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Meine&nbsp;Worte</div><div align="left">bauen Schlösser</div><div align="left">aus Luft</div><div align="left">und trocknen</div><div align="left">Tränen</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Deine</div><div align="left">und meine </div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div align="left"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-3824592685993755058?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-73104511518605946992012-02-14T07:30:00.006+01:002012-02-14T07:58:48.125+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OQ_nTkhoJr8/Tze28TPrB_I/AAAAAAAAFxo/c0DqwqW0CFI/s1600/DavidEustace_EnchantedValley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="314" sda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OQ_nTkhoJr8/Tze28TPrB_I/AAAAAAAAFxo/c0DqwqW0CFI/s320/DavidEustace_EnchantedValley.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© David Eustace: Enchanted Valley<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Mein Haltbarkeitsdatum</div><div align="left">längst abgelaufen,</div><div align="left">trotzdem noch immer rüstig und</div><div align="left">ohne künstliche Ersatzteile</div><div align="left">außer ein paar Zähnen</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Eventueller Grund: </div><div align="left">unzureichende Ausschweifungen</div><div align="left">und eher mangelhafter Genuss</div><div align="left">berauschender Präparate</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Die meisten meiner Freunde längst</div><div align="left">unter der Erde und ich frage mich <br />was falsch gelaufen ist zwischen mir <br />und den Göttern denn die sie lieben <br />nehmen sie früh zu sich</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-7310451151860594699?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-9287954384702762802012-02-13T07:30:00.003+01:002012-02-13T07:30:03.253+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C0Da1AdOPjo/TzbAKt-QMOI/AAAAAAAAFxg/DmNCgspva8Q/s1600/VictorKarnaukh_TheGame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="281" sda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C0Da1AdOPjo/TzbAKt-QMOI/AAAAAAAAFxg/DmNCgspva8Q/s320/VictorKarnaukh_TheGame.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Victor Karnaukh: The Game<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Einst sah man die Erde</div><div align="left">und den Menschen</div><div align="left">als Zentrum der Schöpfung</div><div align="left">und des Alls</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Dann rückte die Sonne</div><div align="left">in den Mittelpunkt</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Nun&nbsp;wissen wir</div><div align="left">dass wir nicht einmal</div><div align="left">Flöhe sind</div><div align="left">am kleinen Zeh</div><div align="left">des großen Schöpfers</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Die Perspektiven</div><div align="left">haben sich verschoben</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-928795438470276280?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-49456262623398991712012-02-12T07:30:00.006+01:002012-02-12T07:30:00.060+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_76GiqSngbg/Tza7UBU161I/AAAAAAAAFxY/VhjoXBn0C4M/s1600/MatthewArmstrong_TheHornedKing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" sda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_76GiqSngbg/Tza7UBU161I/AAAAAAAAFxY/VhjoXBn0C4M/s400/MatthewArmstrong_TheHornedKing.jpg" width="258" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Matthew Armstrong: The Horned King<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Hiermit erkläre ich den</div><div align="left">heiligen Krieg gegen alle<br />-isten</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Terroristen,</div><div align="left">Kommunisten,</div><div align="left">Zionisten,</div><div align="left">Islamisten,</div><div align="left">Kolonialisten,</div><div align="left">Militaristen,</div><div align="left">Kapitalisten,</div><div align="left">Rasisten,</div><div align="left">Extremisten,</div><div align="left">Neo-Nazisten</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Sowie religiöse Fanatiker</div><div align="left">aller Art und jeglicher</div><div align="left">Schattierung</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-4945626262339899171?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-55385691622504332242012-02-11T07:30:00.002+01:002012-02-11T07:30:02.024+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FDkW3-RpC2Y/Ty_4WLuFhkI/AAAAAAAAFww/4vYlG_7yuaM/s1600/OlgaGouskova_ForgetMeNot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FDkW3-RpC2Y/Ty_4WLuFhkI/AAAAAAAAFww/4vYlG_7yuaM/s320/OlgaGouskova_ForgetMeNot.jpg" width="278" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Olga Gouskova: Forget Me Not<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">So nahe du bist</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">in meinen Träumen</div><div align="left">so zärtlich</div><div align="left">so schön</div><div align="left">so wirklich</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">So fern du bist</div><div align="left">in meinem Wachen</div><div align="left">so weit</div><div align="left">so schön</div><div align="left">so hoffnungslos </div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div align="left"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-5538569162250433224?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-54824430240040951292012-02-10T07:30:00.018+01:002012-02-10T08:43:53.625+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LH0UPUgaQRE/TzQzB0FyPnI/AAAAAAAAFxQ/VCT7Oaexn6I/s1600/TrishaAdams_CityAfterTheRain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LH0UPUgaQRE/TzQzB0FyPnI/AAAAAAAAFxQ/VCT7Oaexn6I/s320/TrishaAdams_CityAfterTheRain.jpg" width="317" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Trisha Adams: City After The Rain<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Du wirst es nie erfahren</div><div align="left">doch als du gegangen warst</div><div align="left">saß ich noch lange wie erstarrt</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Es war als ob das ganze </div><div align="left">verdammte Leben von mir</div><div align="left">gegangen wäre und es keinen</div><div align="left">Grund gab weiter zu leben</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Ein dunkler Schatten war auf </div><div align="left">meine Welt gefallen eine</div><div align="left">erste Ahnung von Verzicht</div><div align="left">Tod und Untergang</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Ich fing an erwachsen zu werden</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-5482443024004095129?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-16275856163655589182012-02-09T07:30:00.001+01:002012-02-09T07:30:00.479+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8hHiZHJ-d-I/TwX5y-nwGPI/AAAAAAAAFsE/BlEpxnsKNCk/s1600/AndrewA.Gonz%25C3%25A1lez_Melusina.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="250" rea="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8hHiZHJ-d-I/TwX5y-nwGPI/AAAAAAAAFsE/BlEpxnsKNCk/s320/AndrewA.Gonz%25C3%25A1lez_Melusina.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Andrew A.González: Melusina<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Warum schreibst&nbsp;du Gedichte</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">fragt man mich</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Ich weiß nicht</div><div align="left">ich weiß nicht</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Sie benutzen mich und</div><div align="left">es gibt kein Entrinnen<br /><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-1627585616365558918?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-3874024216606947262012-02-08T07:30:00.004+01:002012-02-08T07:30:02.719+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EhgBMEwNUtA/TymXMqBXzeI/AAAAAAAAFvw/Ir-psPKbZug/s1600/CynthiaBreusch_UnderStarlight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="323" sda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EhgBMEwNUtA/TymXMqBXzeI/AAAAAAAAFvw/Ir-psPKbZug/s400/CynthiaBreusch_UnderStarlight.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Cynthia Breusch: Under Starlight<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Es wird das Gefühl zurück bleiben</div><div align="left">geliebt zu haben doch unzureichend<br />Einem Menschen nahe gewesen zu sein<br />ohne ihm wirklich&nbsp;zu begegnen<br /><br />Es wird eine Liebe zurück bleiben<br />unerfüllt schmerzhaft und die<br />bange Gewissheit&nbsp;das Leben<br />nur gestreift zu haben<br /><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-387402421660694726?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-1203813497981536442012-02-07T07:30:00.014+01:002012-02-07T07:30:00.925+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cW9lj6lGWVU/Ty-PQxlSbMI/AAAAAAAAFwo/1Z4BCAdrFII/s1600/SergeySmirnov_Ofelia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cW9lj6lGWVU/Ty-PQxlSbMI/AAAAAAAAFwo/1Z4BCAdrFII/s320/SergeySmirnov_Ofelia.jpg" width="236" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Sergey Smirnov: Ofelia<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Ab und zu</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">holen sie einen ab</div><div align="left">im Haus</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Meistens</div><div align="left">geht das sehr</div><div align="left">diskret vor sich</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Na ja,</div><div align="left">denke ich dann</div><div align="left">der hat's geschafft</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-120381349798153644?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-2851759808814348362012-02-06T07:30:00.014+01:002012-02-06T09:32:38.896+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pf32sG7_K00/Ty5EbQQD96I/AAAAAAAAFwY/udzj5SDWmvs/s1600/M&amp;IGarmash_EveningAtTheBeach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="253" sda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pf32sG7_K00/Ty5EbQQD96I/AAAAAAAAFwY/udzj5SDWmvs/s400/M&amp;IGarmash_EveningAtTheBeach.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© M&amp;I Garmash: Evening At The Beach<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Neulich traf ich einen Bekannten -</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">auch so ein älterer Jahrgang und</div><div align="left">wir überlegten uns wann man</div><div align="left">richtig alt ist</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Mit 70 Jahren schlug ich vor</div><div align="left">er meinte erst mit 80</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Schließlich einigten wir uns<br />richtig alt&nbsp;zu sein wenn es</div><div align="left">keinen Spaß mehr macht</div><div align="left">junge Mädchen zu sehen</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Gerade da ging eine vorüber -</div><div align="left">so an die&nbsp;18 und mit allem Zubehör</div><div align="left">Unwillkürlich zogen wir&nbsp;den Bauch ein</div><div align="left">bei dieser Verjüngungskur </div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-285175980881434836?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-15160047906692431842012-02-05T07:30:00.025+01:002012-02-05T07:30:00.525+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fqXJ3RIEw-s/Ty0yB0U1z4I/AAAAAAAAFwQ/LzeCFSTKXWc/s1600/Sommerwind,+Heinz+Baumgart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" sda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fqXJ3RIEw-s/Ty0yB0U1z4I/AAAAAAAAFwQ/LzeCFSTKXWc/s400/Sommerwind,+Heinz+Baumgart.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Heinz Baumgart: Sommerwind<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Selten, und dann auch nur </div><div align="left">für einen kurzen Augenblick </div><div align="left">das&nbsp;schwindelnde Gefühl</div><div align="left">totalen Glücks</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Jetzt sterben können</div><div align="left">denke ich,&nbsp;doch meistens </div><div align="left">geht es schnell vorüber</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-1516004790669243184?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-40369523255143629662012-02-04T07:30:00.000+01:002012-02-04T07:30:00.723+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SzFt0p9C3Gg/TyhJeOyBCdI/AAAAAAAAFvg/Prd5y0InwPc/s1600/PavelZacek_ComediaDellArte.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" sda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SzFt0p9C3Gg/TyhJeOyBCdI/AAAAAAAAFvg/Prd5y0InwPc/s400/PavelZacek_ComediaDellArte.jpg" width="350" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><em>© </em>Pavel Zacek: Comedia Dell Arte<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Meine Gedanken wandern</div><div align="left">in die Vergangenheit,</div><div align="left">ordnen Ereignisse neu,</div><div align="left">verschweigen und verschönen.</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Nein, ich bin nicht enttäuscht</div><div align="left">doch habe ich&nbsp;vor im <br />nächsten Leben einiges<br />anders zu&nbsp;machen</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-4036952325514362966?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-52769256973830864442012-02-03T07:30:00.011+01:002012-02-03T08:59:57.563+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LckmiimhJqc/TypVmOD1EaI/AAAAAAAAFwI/pjo1FpVXDDo/s1600/StephenShortridge_WhatABeautifukMorning.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" sda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LckmiimhJqc/TypVmOD1EaI/AAAAAAAAFwI/pjo1FpVXDDo/s320/StephenShortridge_WhatABeautifukMorning.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Stephen Shortridge: What A Beautiful Morning<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">In jungen Jahren war ich der</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">"Räuberhauptmann" unserer Gegend</div><div align="left">ein wildes Bürschchen</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Später bekam ich&nbsp;jahrelang</div><div align="left">Klavierunterricht und als</div><div align="left">Vorbilder zeigte man mir</div><div align="left">die Musterschüler -</div><div align="left">diese jungen Chopins denen</div><div align="left">die Angst anzusehen war</div><div align="left">wenn sie mir begegneten</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Was aus ihnen geworden ist</div><div align="left">weiß ich nicht</div><div align="left">Aus mir wurde nie ein Chopin </div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div align="left"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-5276925697383086444?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-62897162730838318232012-02-02T07:30:00.001+01:002012-02-02T07:30:02.620+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y_vnlm6G_-c/TwdF2KqCirI/AAAAAAAAFsY/idELdVzRUO4/s1600/HibikiMiyazaki_Untitled2003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="276" rea="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y_vnlm6G_-c/TwdF2KqCirI/AAAAAAAAFsY/idELdVzRUO4/s400/HibikiMiyazaki_Untitled2003.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Hibiki Miyazaki: Untitled 2003<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Ältliche Männer mit ihren<br />unerfüllten Hoffnungen und<br />abgelegten Träumen<br /><br />Mit ihren Potenzproblemen<br />und ihrer verletzten Eitelkeit<br /><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-6289716273083831823?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-63328303070373550002012-02-01T07:30:00.004+01:002012-02-01T07:30:01.835+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4PrhRuGsHHM/TyWslbiYq6I/AAAAAAAAFvI/jhnMvMV1nmU/s1600/EmmaSheldrake_ThankGodForMirrors.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" gda="true" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4PrhRuGsHHM/TyWslbiYq6I/AAAAAAAAFvI/jhnMvMV1nmU/s320/EmmaSheldrake_ThankGodForMirrors.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Emma Sheldrake: Thank God For Mirrors<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Verstohlen sandte ich meine</div><div align="left">Wünsche nach dir aus</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Einer nach dem anderen</div><div align="left">kam unbeantwortet zurück</div><div align="left">Adresse unbekannt</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Ein einziger Wunsch ist </div><div align="left">mir verblieben</div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-6332830307037355000?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-15338322079303916202012-01-31T07:30:00.000+01:002012-01-31T07:30:02.096+01:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xCYdxgFePwk/TxcBDOi2isI/AAAAAAAAFto/DffKVLltKdk/s1600/SandraBartocha_Buschwindr%25C3%25B6schen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="270" nfa="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xCYdxgFePwk/TxcBDOi2isI/AAAAAAAAFto/DffKVLltKdk/s400/SandraBartocha_Buschwindr%25C3%25B6schen.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Sandra Bartocha: Buschwindröschen<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Es geht wieder aufwärts</div><div align="left">mit den Tagen im Norden</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Die&nbsp;Sehnsucht nach Frühling<br />wie die Sonne&nbsp;</div><div align="left">noch bleich am Horizont<br />doch sie wird kommen</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Die Jahreszeit der Hoffnung</div><div align="left">wird kommen</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-1533832207930391620?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-30431048324978154862012-01-30T07:30:00.000+01:002012-01-30T07:30:01.141+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-72DUyx7o558/TyQ16n4myDI/AAAAAAAAFu4/qtweiM70paA/s1600/JohnAsaro_ArrangingFlowers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" gda="true" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-72DUyx7o558/TyQ16n4myDI/AAAAAAAAFu4/qtweiM70paA/s320/JohnAsaro_ArrangingFlowers.jpg" width="255" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© John Asaro: Arranging Flowers<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Es ist nicht so, dass ich</div><div align="left">ohne dich nicht leben kann</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Nur hätte es keinen</div><div align="left">Sinn gehabt geboren</div><div align="left">zu werden</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-3043104832497815486?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-40860686906559460642012-01-29T07:30:00.005+01:002012-01-29T07:30:00.395+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YxAp3ZA974A/TyQu3nMByQI/AAAAAAAAFuw/JdcRIu7LCFk/s1600/PierToffoletti_Visioni.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" gda="true" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YxAp3ZA974A/TyQu3nMByQI/AAAAAAAAFuw/JdcRIu7LCFk/s320/PierToffoletti_Visioni.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Pier Toffoletti: Visioni<br /><br /><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Ich wusste es schon immer</div><div align="left">einmal würde ich <br />von dir träumen</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Ich wusste schon immer</div><div align="left">einmal würde ich mich</div><div align="left">in dich verlieben</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Ich wusste es schon immer</div><div align="left">doch&nbsp;deinen Namen</div><div align="left">erfuhr ich nie</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-4086068690655946064?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-61248384147655073922012-01-28T07:30:00.000+01:002012-01-28T07:30:02.338+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6NY5ToR8gu8/Tu4BPv1y0EI/AAAAAAAAFqA/jIFOl7pZssQ/s1600/DavidEustace_The+RiverInAutumn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="308" oda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6NY5ToR8gu8/Tu4BPv1y0EI/AAAAAAAAFqA/jIFOl7pZssQ/s320/DavidEustace_The+RiverInAutumn.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© David Eustace: The River In Autumn<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Es fragt mich jemand</div><div align="left">wie es&nbsp;ist&nbsp;alt zu werden</div><div align="left">und ich antworte</div><div align="left">ohne zu zögern</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Hab ich mir eigentlich<br />schlimmer vorgestellt ...</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-6124838414765507392?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-40258609341187982372012-01-27T07:30:00.008+01:002012-01-27T11:47:05.424+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OjGnAKaxAQY/Tx_KqMoB7gI/AAAAAAAAFuo/RVLk7z9KLUo/s1600/NancyNoel_Feather.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" gda="true" height="294" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OjGnAKaxAQY/Tx_KqMoB7gI/AAAAAAAAFuo/RVLk7z9KLUo/s320/NancyNoel_Feather.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Nancy Noel: Feather<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Immer noch ist es als wäre es</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">gestern geschehen, eingebrannt <br />in die Seele der Verlust</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Der schmerzlichste Verlust</div><div align="left">den ein Kind erfahren kann</div><div align="left"><br />Und ich sehe den Jungen,</div><div align="left">neun Jahre alt und weiß, dass<br />er es nie ganz verwunden hat</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-4025860934118798237?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-27136857748874966582012-01-26T07:30:00.014+01:002012-01-26T09:01:22.530+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wNMmOBj2CxI/TvwwvYY05eI/AAAAAAAAFqk/fw8AaVy0YjM/s1600/AndreyAranyshev_WalkWithUmbrella.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" rea="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wNMmOBj2CxI/TvwwvYY05eI/AAAAAAAAFqk/fw8AaVy0YjM/s320/AndreyAranyshev_WalkWithUmbrella.jpg" width="313" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Andrey Aranyshev: Walk With Umbrella<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Immer wartet man darauf</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">dass etwas zu Ende geht -</div><div align="left">der Sturm, der Winter,</div><div align="left">der Sommer, die Schmerzen</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Meistens geht es auch</div><div align="left">vorüber</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Bei einigen Dingen will man aber</div><div align="left">dass sie bleiben,</div><div align="left">die Liebe, das Leben</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Leider gehen die</div><div align="left">aber auch zu Ende</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-2713685774887496658?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-29778483324345783442012-01-25T07:30:00.020+01:002012-01-25T07:30:03.029+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3PhsHtPl1CE/Tx7UXHlvlgI/AAAAAAAAFuY/iW9-foY9l2s/s1600/FrancisDiTommaso_WhiteDress1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" nfa="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3PhsHtPl1CE/Tx7UXHlvlgI/AAAAAAAAFuY/iW9-foY9l2s/s400/FrancisDiTommaso_WhiteDress1.jpg" width="311" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Francis Di Tommaso: White Dress1<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Ich sehe dich noch immer</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">als junges Mädchen</div><div align="left">schlank und neugierig</div><div align="left">auf Leben und Liebe</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Ich sehe dich noch immer</div><div align="left">als junge Frau und Mutter</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Ich sehe dich heute wie du</div><div align="left">langsam und mühsam gehst</div><div align="left">und liebe dich noch</div><div align="left">genau wie damals</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-2977848332434578344?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-65550062914965262892012-01-24T07:30:00.004+01:002012-01-24T09:01:29.881+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IOPztCJa6NM/Tx0c0O9UobI/AAAAAAAAFuQ/nfKkrTytaUo/s1600/RudiHurzlmeier_Woodpecker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" nfa="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IOPztCJa6NM/Tx0c0O9UobI/AAAAAAAAFuQ/nfKkrTytaUo/s400/RudiHurzlmeier_Woodpecker.jpg" width="220" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Rudi Hurzlmeier: Woodpecker<br /><br /><div align="left">I</div><div align="left">Jedes Jahr sollte man </div><div align="left">Glück neu definieren</div><div align="left">Je älter man wird desto</div><div align="left">bescheidener die Ansprüche</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">II</div><div align="left">Glück kann ein Kanarienvogel sein</div><div align="left">oder ein Schloss in Frankreich</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">III</div><div align="left">Um Glück voll auskosten</div><div align="left">zu können muss man</div><div align="left">wissen was Unglück ist</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">IV</div><div align="left">Dem Glücklichen schlägt</div><div align="left">keine Stunde</div><div align="left">Dem Unglücklichen</div><div align="left">jede Minute</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">V</div><div align="left">Glücklich sein, sich</div><div align="left">einen Himmel schaffen</div><div align="left">auf Erden</div><div align="left">Wie viele haben die Hölle</div><div align="left">schon zu Lebzeiten</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">VI</div><div align="left">Das Glück -</div><div align="left">es kommt, es kommt</div><div align="left">rette sich wer kann ...</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-6555006291496526289?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-35142058066480703192012-01-23T07:30:00.001+01:002012-01-23T08:49:33.404+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--QFMlEWm55Y/TxiGqeMKzFI/AAAAAAAAFt4/la98UTd4StU/s1600/StanislawKrupp%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" nfa="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--QFMlEWm55Y/TxiGqeMKzFI/AAAAAAAAFt4/la98UTd4StU/s320/StanislawKrupp%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Stanislaw Krupp (1)<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Noch ist der Tag nicht zu Ende</div><div align="left">doch die Luft riecht schon</div><div align="left">nach Abschied</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Du hast dir Tränen ins</div><div align="left">Haar geflochten</div><div align="left">Ich aber werde mich erinnern</div><div align="left">an die Wärme deines</div><div align="left">Körpers und an dein Lächeln</div><div align="left">als du zu mir kamst</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-3514205806648070319?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-91543536636138736422012-01-22T07:30:00.004+01:002012-01-22T07:30:01.635+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W0TSKUmtsGs/TxBB2a1My9I/AAAAAAAAFs4/l2iar9zbJf4/s1600/Fladdermus_Expressen.se.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" kba="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W0TSKUmtsGs/TxBB2a1My9I/AAAAAAAAFs4/l2iar9zbJf4/s320/Fladdermus_Expressen.se.jpg" width="247" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Fladdermus_Expressen.se<br /><br /><div align="left">Mit der Ruhe einer Fledermaus</div><div align="left">hänge ich kopfüber,</div><div align="left">lasse unten oben sein und</div><div align="left">gebe Weisheiten von mir</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Ich habe es immer schon </div><div align="left">gewusst, sage ich </div><div align="left">und lächle hintergründig</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-9154353663613873642?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-44519061068587142392012-01-21T07:30:00.005+01:002012-01-21T07:30:00.185+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J0QlqdJKsO0/TxmxqOO8TaI/AAAAAAAAFuI/7e1IanppIPc/s1600/AnnetteGonserowski_Soledad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" nfa="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-J0QlqdJKsO0/TxmxqOO8TaI/AAAAAAAAFuI/7e1IanppIPc/s400/AnnetteGonserowski_Soledad.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Annette Gonserowski: Soledad<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Steine wenden am </div><div align="left">Rande der Einsamkeit.</div><div align="left">Worte des Trostes&nbsp;finden,</div><div align="left">dem Himmel nahe und</div><div align="left">dem Flug des Steinadlers</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Einen letzten Frühling erleben,</div><div align="left">eine Liebe.</div><div align="left">Warten auf das Wunder</div><div align="left">am Rande der Einsamkeit</div><div align="left">und des Vergessens</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-4451906106858714239?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-57341199338317211442012-01-20T07:30:00.015+01:002012-01-20T16:29:16.984+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qwnlvdbs23c/TxKbugK-AQI/AAAAAAAAFtQ/grofOgMSnEI/s1600/CaitlinKarolczak_The+RedVeil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" kba="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qwnlvdbs23c/TxKbugK-AQI/AAAAAAAAFtQ/grofOgMSnEI/s400/CaitlinKarolczak_The+RedVeil.jpg" width="263" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Caitlin Karolczak: The Red Veil<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Wie ein verwöhntes Kind</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">sieht so&nbsp;mancher dem Leben nach</div><div align="left">wie es verschwindet </div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Statt&nbsp;nach dem zu greifen&nbsp;</div><div align="left">was&nbsp;es zu bieten&nbsp;bereit war</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-5734119933831721144?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-63187109759342546722012-01-19T07:30:00.003+01:002012-01-19T08:47:52.361+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q6p9I4nfnVc/TxP7WH8C_HI/AAAAAAAAFtg/PhvykNiGLH0/s1600/Stanislaw+Krupp+%252823%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" kba="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-q6p9I4nfnVc/TxP7WH8C_HI/AAAAAAAAFtg/PhvykNiGLH0/s320/Stanislaw+Krupp+%252823%2529.jpg" width="319" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Stanislaw Krupp (23)<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Mit leeren Händen kommen</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">meine Worte zurück.</div><div align="left">Vergebens flüsterten sie dir</div><div align="left">Träume ins Ohr</div><div align="left"><br />Vergebens berührten sie</div><div align="left">deine Lippen.</div><div align="left">Deine Seele war auf einem</div><div align="left">anderen Stern,</div><div align="left">bei einer anderen Liebe.</div><div align="left"><br />Ich will&nbsp;bleiben und</div><div align="left">auf dich warten</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-6318710975934254672?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-39277106497400030172012-01-18T07:30:00.002+01:002012-01-18T07:30:00.704+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oEfRPq-ixv4/TvwvOHiDbdI/AAAAAAAAFqY/VB4szcVujnM/s1600/GeorgesMoquay_M69.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="280" rea="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oEfRPq-ixv4/TvwvOHiDbdI/AAAAAAAAFqY/VB4szcVujnM/s320/GeorgesMoquay_M69.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Georges Moquay: M69<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Was es so alles gibt</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">auf dieser Welt: </div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Verrückte, Besoffene,</div><div align="left">Verliebte und</div><div align="left">gewöhnliche Irre</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Darunter immer solche</div><div align="left">die Gedichte schreiben</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Zu denen zähle ich mich</div><div align="left">selbst und bin in</div><div align="left">ausgezeichneter Gesellschaft </div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div align="left"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-3927710649740003017?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-527786728486495132012-01-17T07:30:00.003+01:002012-01-17T07:30:00.735+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gAX5CTDwT70/TxP1hoyWSDI/AAAAAAAAFtY/hU89NXRARaY/s1600/M%2526IGarmash_FairBeauty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" kba="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gAX5CTDwT70/TxP1hoyWSDI/AAAAAAAAFtY/hU89NXRARaY/s320/M%2526IGarmash_FairBeauty.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© M&amp;J Garmash: Fair Beauty<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Bisweilen wachte er auf in der Nacht,</div><div align="left">geflüsterte Träume im Ohr</div><div align="left">und auf der Seele Hoffnungen,</div><div align="left">dünn wie Spinnengewebe</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Dann verblasste ihr Bild langsam</div><div align="left">und zurück blieb eine Art</div><div align="left">Sehnsucht nach etwas von</div><div align="left">dem er nur träumen konnte</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-52778672848649513?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-3671842477177291462012-01-16T07:30:00.013+01:002012-01-16T09:05:12.648+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gXadHHXetzY/TxG-jpvbDMI/AAAAAAAAFtA/q0lkjjG7POY/s1600/JoselitoSabogal_F%25C3%25A1bulaDeAgosto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="318" kba="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gXadHHXetzY/TxG-jpvbDMI/AAAAAAAAFtA/q0lkjjG7POY/s320/JoselitoSabogal_F%25C3%25A1bulaDeAgosto.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Joselito Sabogal: Fábula de Agosto<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Wenn die Nacht schwärzer als</div><div align="left">schwarz ist und nasskalter Regen</div><div align="left">ans Fenster schlägt</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Wenn im Radio die Melodie</div><div align="left">erklingt die einmal </div><div align="left">unsere war</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Wenn auf Briefe keine </div><div align="left">Antwort&nbsp;kommt und das</div><div align="left">Telefon vergebens läutet</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Sehe ich hinaus ins Dunkel</div><div align="left">der Nacht und frage mich</div><div align="left">warum Liebe&nbsp;so weh tut</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-367184247717729146?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-79035711040923309572012-01-15T07:30:00.006+01:002012-01-15T07:30:00.408+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iJa07tGWiWc/TxA8VZQSA4I/AAAAAAAAFsw/cT_QZ7wOplw/s1600/MkJune_pixelio.de.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" kba="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iJa07tGWiWc/TxA8VZQSA4I/AAAAAAAAFsw/cT_QZ7wOplw/s400/MkJune_pixelio.de.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© MkJune_pixelio.de<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Es ist Winter -<br />Eisberge ziehen durch</div><div align="left">meine Phantasie und</div><div align="left">die Sehnsucht nach </div><div align="left">einer warmen Höhle </div><div align="left">war nie größer</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-7903571104092330957?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-4655430120342600962012-01-14T07:30:00.005+01:002012-01-14T09:39:29.222+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fJOiyGTdT0w/TwiX4ACQUTI/AAAAAAAAFsg/5fwzz5KA348/s1600/RojFriberg_StorPublik.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="288" rea="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fJOiyGTdT0w/TwiX4ACQUTI/AAAAAAAAFsg/5fwzz5KA348/s400/RojFriberg_StorPublik.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Roj Friberg: Stor publik<br /><br /><div align="left">Weihnachten überstanden<br />und den Schlussverkauf<br /><br />Nun bin ich gestählt<br />für kommende Ereignisse<br /><br />Nichts kann mich mehr<br />erschüttern<br /><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-465543012034260096?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-9913187173365286292011-12-22T07:30:00.013+01:002011-12-22T07:30:01.633+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GXtYRnBOycI/TucxIXOpVUI/AAAAAAAAFoA/eanjSTAXUoE/s1600/PeterHebgen_pixelio.de.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" oda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GXtYRnBOycI/TucxIXOpVUI/AAAAAAAAFoA/eanjSTAXUoE/s400/PeterHebgen_pixelio.de.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Peter Hebgen_pixelio.de<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Ein Universum</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">voller Rätsel, eine</div><div align="left">Welt voller Mysterien</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Weihnachten, das</div><div align="left">größte aller Wunder ...</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-991318717336528629?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-86832787448826000342011-12-21T07:30:00.001+01:002011-12-21T07:30:03.040+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n6kW2JP4iWo/Tuh5tDdtFeI/AAAAAAAAFpA/eiI9OP2zKoM/s1600/AnnaSilivonchik_TheMostStarlightNight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="346" oda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n6kW2JP4iWo/Tuh5tDdtFeI/AAAAAAAAFpA/eiI9OP2zKoM/s400/AnnaSilivonchik_TheMostStarlightNight.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Anna Silivonchik: The Most Starlight Night<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Es sind die Weihnachten</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Unserer Kindheit</div><div align="left">Nach denen wir uns sehnen</div><div align="left">Die Weihnachten als unsere</div><div align="left">Welt noch heil war</div><div align="left">Die Lichter</div><div align="left">Die Düfte</div><div align="left">Die Erwartungen</div><div align="left">Stille Nacht</div><div align="left">Heilige Nacht</div><div align="left">Und Engel schwebten</div><div align="left">Durch unsere Träume ... </div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div align="left"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-8683278744882600034?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-37147683667794137132011-12-20T07:30:00.018+01:002011-12-20T07:30:01.440+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8ek7XBo0nYQ/TqR6ROwearI/AAAAAAAAFdk/X1HtssT3IkY/s1600/SusanBennerstrom_twisp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="337" rda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8ek7XBo0nYQ/TqR6ROwearI/AAAAAAAAFdk/X1HtssT3IkY/s400/SusanBennerstrom_twisp.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Susan Bennerstrom: Twisp<br /><br /><div align="left">Alle diese Wohnungen <br />und Häuser in denen <br />ich&nbsp;gelebt habe - ob sie</div><div align="left">sich&nbsp;an mich erinnern?</div><div align="left"><br />Ob sie sich&nbsp;erinnern, dass</div><div align="left">ich dort nie zu Hause war</div><div align="left">und ob sie wissen dass ich</div><div align="left">ein Fremder blieb</div><div align="left">wohin ich auch ging?<br /><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-3714768366779413713?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-39267887193779485612011-12-19T07:30:00.005+01:002011-12-19T07:30:00.514+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1Y9oLLR16jQ/Tuxula_fXFI/AAAAAAAAFpg/pOnxcac5ulM/s1600/JoannaSierko-Filipowska_3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" oda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1Y9oLLR16jQ/Tuxula_fXFI/AAAAAAAAFpg/pOnxcac5ulM/s320/JoannaSierko-Filipowska_3.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Joanna Sierko-Filipowska<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Heute will sich keine</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Weihnachtsstimmung&nbsp;einfinden</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Griesgrämig starre ich</div><div align="left">Aus dem Fenster</div><div align="left">Kein Engel weit und breit</div><div align="left">Keine Friedensbotschaft</div><div align="left">Keine Sonne</div><div align="left">Kein Schnee</div><div align="left">Düster</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Ein Tag wie geschaffen um</div><div align="left">Griesgrämige Gedichte zu schreiben</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div align="left"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-3926788719377948561?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-24265688902985565422011-12-18T07:30:00.037+01:002011-12-18T07:30:04.628+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xJSsyShZ4dI/Tu0KYgd2JZI/AAAAAAAAFpw/BlsW6doodoI/s1600/Joujou_pixelio.de.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="253" oda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xJSsyShZ4dI/Tu0KYgd2JZI/AAAAAAAAFpw/BlsW6doodoI/s400/Joujou_pixelio.de.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joujou_pixelio.de<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Wir werden uns wiederfinden</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Hinter den dunklen Tagen</div><div align="left">Bei der Bank am See</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Hier saßen wir und</div><div align="left">Träumten von einem Leben</div><div align="left">Hier flüsterten die Wellen </div><div align="left">Und der Sommerwind ließ uns</div><div align="left">Nicht an Winter denken</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Hier schrieb ich dir mein</div><div align="left">Schönstes Gedicht und ahnte nicht</div><div align="left">Dass es ein Abschied war</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-2426568890298556542?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-63350809997838455542011-12-17T07:30:00.037+01:002011-12-17T07:30:03.805+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QXrIISbLA8A/TusG7ZfTIJI/AAAAAAAAFpY/jxduQY3-xOY/s1600/FriedensreichHundertwasser_SaveTheRain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" oda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QXrIISbLA8A/TusG7ZfTIJI/AAAAAAAAFpY/jxduQY3-xOY/s400/FriedensreichHundertwasser_SaveTheRain.jpg" width="277" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Friedensreich Hundertwasser: Save The Rain<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Sie schreiben mir Weihnachtskarten </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">aus Ägypten, Kambodscha, Thailand</div><div align="left">aus Hawaii und&nbsp;sonst woher</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Sie wollen die Welt sehen</div><div align="left">bevor alles vergiftet ist durch</div><div align="left">unnötige Flugreisen und</div><div align="left">anderen Wahnsinn</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-6335080999783845554?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-71897473353847646022011-12-16T07:30:00.001+01:002011-12-16T07:30:02.673+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZA8eYs5_Z1Y/TuhwiQyq_fI/AAAAAAAAFoo/n5xwaORjUx0/s1600/FaizaMaghni24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" oda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZA8eYs5_Z1Y/TuhwiQyq_fI/AAAAAAAAFoo/n5xwaORjUx0/s400/FaizaMaghni24.jpg" width="321" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Faiza Maghni<br /><br /><div align="left">Eine Liebe die nicht fragt </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">nach wann und nach warum</div><div align="left">die nur da ist über die Zeit</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Eine Liebe für Träumer</div><div align="left">ohne Anfang</div><div align="left">ohne Ende</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-7189747335384764602?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-88706056506602836122011-12-15T07:30:00.030+01:002011-12-15T07:30:00.045+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3X06ltlC9E8/Tuh3D-tDdEI/AAAAAAAAFo4/eB-WA0RCQzg/s1600/RudiHurzlmeier_Vogelh%25C3%25A4uschen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" oda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3X06ltlC9E8/Tuh3D-tDdEI/AAAAAAAAFo4/eB-WA0RCQzg/s400/RudiHurzlmeier_Vogelh%25C3%25A4uschen.jpg" width="280" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Rudi Hurzlmeier: Vogelhäuschen<br /><br /><div align="left">Wie du auch</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">versuchen magst,</div><div align="left">Glück lässt sich</div><div align="left">nicht erzwingen</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Unerwartet kommt es</div><div align="left">auf leisen Sohlen und</div><div align="left">geht oft unerkannt</div><div align="left">vorüber </div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div align="left"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-8870605650660283612?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-35103463728155888152011-12-14T07:30:00.001+01:002011-12-14T07:30:01.752+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZUaF6nmLNdo/TudFsNdlMdI/AAAAAAAAFoI/evFFkurLo-I/s1600/JohnPitre_Heaven.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="287" oda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZUaF6nmLNdo/TudFsNdlMdI/AAAAAAAAFoI/evFFkurLo-I/s400/JohnPitre_Heaven.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© John Pitre: Heaven<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Und als der Herr am</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">siebten Tag sein Werk</div><div align="left">besah, erkannte er</div><div align="left">dass ihm der Mensch</div><div align="left">misslungen war</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Seitdem lässt er nichts</div><div align="left">unversucht mit Kriegen</div><div align="left">Seuchen, Klimawandel</div><div align="left">die Menschen wieder</div><div align="left">los zu werden </div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div align="left"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-3510346372815588815?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-30566014218324610182011-12-13T07:30:00.001+01:002011-12-13T07:30:01.382+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2SBa5i_dQGw/TtfBJP6k_II/AAAAAAAAFmQ/_S6V4wg2jDI/s1600/RainerSturm_pixelio.de.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dda="true" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2SBa5i_dQGw/TtfBJP6k_II/AAAAAAAAFmQ/_S6V4wg2jDI/s400/RainerSturm_pixelio.de.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Rainer Sturm_pixelio.de<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Ich sehe Lichter</div><div align="left">in der Nacht</div><div align="left">Reflexe, Spiegelungen</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Arme Seelen auf der Suche?</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">In Nächten wie dieser</div><div align="left">sind einfache Erklärungen</div><div align="left">wenig&nbsp;gefragt</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-3056601421832461018?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-6894926058982566092011-12-12T07:30:00.021+01:002011-12-12T09:10:32.288+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6z3dKnfhWXQ/TuUO3UbJlqI/AAAAAAAAFnw/m23FOjlWREw/s1600/GiuseppeMariotti_TheWhiteHorse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" mda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6z3dKnfhWXQ/TuUO3UbJlqI/AAAAAAAAFnw/m23FOjlWREw/s400/GiuseppeMariotti_TheWhiteHorse.jpg" width="286" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Giuseppe Mariotti: The White Horse<br /><br /><div align="left">Meine erste Liebe -</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">ich war gerade 14 Jahre alt <br />und sie&nbsp;hieß Heidi</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Noch heute, 60 Jahre später</div><div align="left">bereue ich&nbsp;nicht wenigstens</div><div align="left">versucht zu haben sie zu küssen</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Wie weh es tut zu lieben</div><div align="left">wenn man 14 ist ...<br /><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-689492605898256609?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-11723862217262405062011-12-11T07:30:00.016+01:002011-12-11T07:30:00.556+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aBdqfsYCI1g/Tpc_MnOZUjI/AAAAAAAAFcE/5jeIZ2INHbA/s1600/NavidBarraty_Rain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="260" oda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aBdqfsYCI1g/Tpc_MnOZUjI/AAAAAAAAFcE/5jeIZ2INHbA/s400/NavidBarraty_Rain.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Navid Barraty: Rain<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Und wieder gehe ich</div><div align="left">auf regennassen Straßen</div><div align="left">durch&nbsp;die Stadt mit dir</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Der Traum sagt nicht wohin</div><div align="left">wir gehen und nicht woher</div><div align="left">wir kommen</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Es ist mein Traum und du</div><div align="left">bist bei mir</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-1172386221726240506?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-53159865546645097082011-12-10T07:30:00.000+01:002011-12-10T07:30:01.750+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FYZ4r3D98Zg/TrvJxB2NhJI/AAAAAAAAFjI/0SNXMPGJRzo/s1600/JettiKuhlemann_pixelio.de.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="281" ida="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FYZ4r3D98Zg/TrvJxB2NhJI/AAAAAAAAFjI/0SNXMPGJRzo/s400/JettiKuhlemann_pixelio.de.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Jetti Kuhlemann_pixelio.de<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Nichts ist heute mehr</div><div align="left">was es zu sein scheint</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Selbst der Mond ein </div><div align="left">aufgeblasenes Gebilde</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Nichts dahinter</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-5315986554664509708?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-27767861729361378362011-12-09T07:30:00.003+01:002011-12-09T09:01:22.822+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QBJU-DPgLTA/Tt6BJn80XVI/AAAAAAAAFnI/xDG8Di0-Vv8/s1600/VladimirGusev_SunnyDay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dda="true" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QBJU-DPgLTA/Tt6BJn80XVI/AAAAAAAAFnI/xDG8Di0-Vv8/s320/VladimirGusev_SunnyDay.jpg" width="259" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Vladimir Gusev: Sunny Day<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Wenn das Eis sich legt,</div><div align="left">wenn alles zu Ende ist</div><div align="left">etwas finden das Trost</div><div align="left">spendet</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Ein verblasstes Bild,</div><div align="left">einen alten Brief und</div><div align="left">die Erinnerung an&nbsp;einen<br />kurzen Sommer</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-2776786172936137836?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-24998719577037459892011-12-08T07:30:00.001+01:002011-12-08T07:30:03.389+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fA3RlGKB5vM/Ttz1wKAAFsI/AAAAAAAAFnA/XlTwA_hf0yw/s1600/JeanBaptisteValadie_LaMexicane.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dda="true" height="275" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fA3RlGKB5vM/Ttz1wKAAFsI/AAAAAAAAFnA/XlTwA_hf0yw/s320/JeanBaptisteValadie_LaMexicane.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Jean Baptiste Valadie: La Mexicane<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Ich las die Gedichte einer</div><div align="left">Politisch engagierten Frau</div><div align="left">Aus einem Land ohne</div><div align="left">Gerechtigkeit und ohne Freiheit</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Jedes einzelne ihrer Worte</div><div align="left">Anlass zu Verfolgung</div><div align="left">Unterdrückung</div><div align="left">Folter</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Wie winzig und</div><div align="left">Beschämend meine</div><div align="left">Eigenen Texte und Gefühle</div><div align="left">Gegen ihren Mut ...</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-2499871957703745989?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-55036394734216478002011-12-07T07:30:00.016+01:002011-12-07T07:30:02.483+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i4zFGgZgZSg/TtzzE3bDSbI/AAAAAAAAFm4/qUbMo32zpGs/s1600/JaroslawKukowski_LostButterfly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dda="true" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i4zFGgZgZSg/TtzzE3bDSbI/AAAAAAAAFm4/qUbMo32zpGs/s320/JaroslawKukowski_LostButterfly.jpg" width="279" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Jaroslaw Kukowski_Lost Butterfly<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Gib mir ein Zeichen</div><div align="left">damit ich weiß ob</div><div align="left">du mich liebst</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Lass den Regen Morsezeichen</div><div align="left">an mein Fenster trommeln</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">SOS</div><div align="left">SMS</div><div align="left">Save My Soul</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-5503639473421647800?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-87931522791200761002011-12-06T07:30:00.033+01:002011-12-06T08:38:00.388+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FVMZa1ruJXo/TtuYH8NhcqI/AAAAAAAAFmo/wha8ZcDRucU/s1600/Cimaron2_pixelio.de.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dda="true" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FVMZa1ruJXo/TtuYH8NhcqI/AAAAAAAAFmo/wha8ZcDRucU/s400/Cimaron2_pixelio.de.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Cimaron_pixelio.de<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Auf der Suche nach Geborgenheit</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">sehe ich&nbsp;zwei Alternativen</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Eine warme Höhle zusammen </div><div align="left">mit dem Wolfsrudel oder </div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">neben dir unter der Bettdecke</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-8793152279120076100?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-34595597288538451132011-12-05T07:30:00.001+01:002011-12-05T07:30:01.639+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U3HBCivKW5s/TtqZjaqdZmI/AAAAAAAAFmg/EeecIGa-F-4/s1600/SamyCharnine_OnTheEdge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dda="true" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U3HBCivKW5s/TtqZjaqdZmI/AAAAAAAAFmg/EeecIGa-F-4/s400/SamyCharnine_OnTheEdge.jpg" width="303" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Samy Charnine: On The Edge<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Sie quält sich in</div><div align="left">ihrem Kreuzworträtsel</div><div align="left">mit der Straße von</div><div align="left">Sumatra&nbsp;und</div><div align="left">dem zweiten Sohn</div><div align="left">von Kains Neffen</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Selbst&nbsp;konnte ich<br />diese Rätsel nie leiden.</div><div align="left">Lieber zugeben dass man</div><div align="left">ein Dummkopf ist</div><div align="left">und das Heft in</div><div align="left">die Ecke knallen</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Es gibt auch ohne Hefte</div><div align="left">so viele Rätsel und</div><div align="left">Ungereimtheiten über<br />die man nachdenken kann</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Das Leben zum Beispiel</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-3459559728853845113?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-91651806828782527152011-12-04T07:30:00.001+01:002011-12-04T07:30:00.101+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-abrfZ_fRgXg/TtEgzSLUMEI/AAAAAAAAFlQ/GsRCdu0IMXM/s1600/FelixMas_Secretos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-abrfZ_fRgXg/TtEgzSLUMEI/AAAAAAAAFlQ/GsRCdu0IMXM/s320/FelixMas_Secretos.jpg" width="318" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Felix Mas: Secretos<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Einen Stacheldraht ziehen</div><div align="left">um gelebte Augenblicke</div><div align="left">um geliebte Augenblicke</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Die Erinnerung<br />unendlich kostbar</div><div align="left">für dich und mich</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-9165180682878252715?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-8585487601090112612011-12-03T07:30:00.004+01:002011-12-03T09:37:07.410+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zojL4oLfNBk/TtdOS0LxhSI/AAAAAAAAFmA/azsZ0X5uC6o/s1600/Alfred+Borchard_pixelio.de.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dda="true" height="268" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zojL4oLfNBk/TtdOS0LxhSI/AAAAAAAAFmA/azsZ0X5uC6o/s400/Alfred+Borchard_pixelio.de.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Alfred Borchard_ pixelio.de<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Ich sah den Himmel</div><div align="left">Die Wolken</div><div align="left">Ein Sturm peitschte</div><div align="left">Sie an</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Ich rechnete aus</div><div align="left">Wohin sie zogen und</div><div align="left">Fand es ziemlich</div><div align="left">Banal</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Auch sonst nur Belangloses.</div><div align="left">Ein Tag wie geschaffen</div><div align="left">für trübsinnige Gedanken</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-858548760109011261?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-5715433884535675772011-12-02T07:30:00.001+01:002011-12-02T09:01:42.523+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qv_Xulwz57E/TtXslDU7L3I/AAAAAAAAFl4/2YObAMBt4_g/s1600/StephenHarlan_JustAfterTheStorm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dda="true" height="292" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qv_Xulwz57E/TtXslDU7L3I/AAAAAAAAFl4/2YObAMBt4_g/s400/StephenHarlan_JustAfterTheStorm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Stephen Harlan: Just After The Storm<br /><br /><div align="left">Einen Abdruck</div><div align="left">hinterlassen</div><div align="left">im Gedächtnis</div><div align="left">der Menschen</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Ein Wort</div><div align="left">eine Zeile</div><div align="left">die berührt</div><div align="left">die bestehen bleibt</div><div align="left">über die Zeit<br /><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-571543388453567577?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-49423972218448891322011-12-01T07:30:00.005+01:002011-12-01T07:30:01.652+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Kx_NWvqkkVI/TtSTRONHmsI/AAAAAAAAFlg/2B-NMw6mito/s1600/RetoKaul_MirandaBay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dda="true" height="236" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Kx_NWvqkkVI/TtSTRONHmsI/AAAAAAAAFlg/2B-NMw6mito/s400/RetoKaul_MirandaBay.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Reto Kaul: Miranda Bay<br /><br /><div align="left">Sie sind geflüchtet</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">auf die Inseln</div><div align="left">des Vergessens</div><div align="left">des Nichtdaseins</div><div align="left">des Nichterkennens</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Ihre Körper haben sie</div><div align="left">zurückgelassen</div><div align="left">Schatten dessen</div><div align="left">was sie</div><div align="left">einstmals waren</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-4942397221844889132?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-17796380184657638162011-11-30T07:30:00.004+01:002011-11-30T07:30:00.727+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-u2eSZeLnfdc/TtTKM_NNq_I/AAAAAAAAFlw/qSlkOd21dpM/s1600/PaulDelvaux_Solidute.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dda="true" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-u2eSZeLnfdc/TtTKM_NNq_I/AAAAAAAAFlw/qSlkOd21dpM/s400/PaulDelvaux_Solidute.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Paul Delvaux: Solitude<br /><br /><div align="left">Nimm mich mit</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">auf deiner Flucht</div><div align="left">vor dem Leben</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Lass mich bei dir sein</div><div align="left">wenn du einsam bist</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Umarme mich</div><div align="left">wenn die Nacht kommt</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Denn</div><div align="left">es wird keinen</div><div align="left">Morgen geben</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-1779638018465763816?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-47160786678043508402011-11-29T07:30:00.003+01:002011-11-29T07:30:03.341+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HjQ0AgjVLKU/TtEwZ69urfI/AAAAAAAAFlY/Y9_d4Jdh4nk/s1600/JulianParker-Burns_Cherries.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HjQ0AgjVLKU/TtEwZ69urfI/AAAAAAAAFlY/Y9_d4Jdh4nk/s320/JulianParker-Burns_Cherries.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Julian Parker-Burns: Cherries<br /><br /><div align="left">Ich denke mir&nbsp;eine Welt aus</div><div align="left">in der es keinen Hunger gibt</div><div align="left">und keine Kriege</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">In der Freundschaft und</div><div align="left">Liebe Bestand haben</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Eine Welt in der <br />Vernunft regiert und <br />Politik eine Todsünde ist</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-4716078667804350840?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-54543103248422548692011-11-28T07:30:00.006+01:002011-11-28T21:11:27.170+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Bmtd1iFrwWc/TsoNCBAq6-I/AAAAAAAAFkY/_qwMzliXm3k/s1600/KristiinaLehtonen_Lohdutus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="280" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Bmtd1iFrwWc/TsoNCBAq6-I/AAAAAAAAFkY/_qwMzliXm3k/s400/KristiinaLehtonen_Lohdutus.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Kristiina Lehtonen: Lohdutus<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Da ist noch&nbsp;immer&nbsp;diese</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">verdammte Sehnsucht</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">doch&nbsp;ich habe längst</div><div align="left">vergessen wonach ...</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-5454310324842254869?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-45460554775113074822011-11-27T07:30:00.018+01:002011-11-27T07:30:00.781+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ps6sI4UUqKc/TtEdiq9JuzI/AAAAAAAAFlI/qaVGTmnHpa8/s1600/HessamAbrishami_Adoration.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ps6sI4UUqKc/TtEdiq9JuzI/AAAAAAAAFlI/qaVGTmnHpa8/s400/HessamAbrishami_Adoration.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Hessam Abrishami: Adoration<br /><br /><div align="left">Früher dachte ich:</div><div align="left">so kann es doch nicht</div><div align="left">weitergehn</div><div align="left">immer die gleichen Tage</div><div align="left">immer die gleiche Liebe</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Heute denke ich:</div><div align="left">wenn es nur</div><div align="left">so bleiben könnte</div><div align="left">mit den Tagen und</div><div align="left">der Liebe</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Denn leider weiß ich:</div><div align="left">weder sind Tage beständig</div><div align="left">noch währt Liebe ewig </div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div align="left"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-4546055477511307482?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-24405609735207259812011-11-26T07:30:00.004+01:002011-11-26T07:30:00.899+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nnmrI4pNrjM/TsgnQN8RSzI/AAAAAAAAFkQ/8ys1UE0iLoI/s1600/KatarzynaDietrych_Dziweczyna+Z+Tulipanami.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nnmrI4pNrjM/TsgnQN8RSzI/AAAAAAAAFkQ/8ys1UE0iLoI/s400/KatarzynaDietrych_Dziweczyna+Z+Tulipanami.jpg" width="286" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Katarzyna Dietrych: Dziweczyna Z Tulipanami<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Heute sende ich meine</div><div align="left">Worte nach dir aus</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Sanft sollen sie sein und</div><div align="left">sehnsuchtsvoll</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Sie werden dich finden,</div><div align="left">sie werden dich finden</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-2440560973520725981?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-91908309417037030102011-11-25T07:30:00.004+01:002011-11-25T08:53:37.015+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MiWdKgnJSAM/Ts4JDoNev_I/AAAAAAAAFlA/qyltz_sYK9w/s1600/AlfredSpectrum_RegenInN.Y.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="253" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MiWdKgnJSAM/Ts4JDoNev_I/AAAAAAAAFlA/qyltz_sYK9w/s400/AlfredSpectrum_RegenInN.Y.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Alfred Spectrum: Regen in N.Y.<br /><br /><div align="left">Da war es dann wieder<br />dieses typische<br />Ende-November-Gefühl<br /><br />Die Dunkelheit und<br />der Regen draußen <br />und Weihnachten vor der Tür <br /><br />Wäre ich jünger würde ich<br />mich betrinken oder ein<br />Gedicht für dich schreiben<br /><br />Egal was ...<br /><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-9190830941703703010?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-47582965770855059792011-11-24T07:30:00.004+01:002011-11-24T08:55:13.722+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ybUGWtD5A0g/Ts0-pT0OnPI/AAAAAAAAFk4/0nZ0tYloH58/s1600/PICT1601x.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="295" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ybUGWtD5A0g/Ts0-pT0OnPI/AAAAAAAAFk4/0nZ0tYloH58/s400/PICT1601x.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><div align="left">Die Zeit zwischen Herbst</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">und Winter<br />bevor das Eis sich legt<br /><br />Die Zeit zwischen Liebe</div><div align="left">und Abschied</div><div align="left">bevor alles zu Ende ist</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-4758296577085505979?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-2190543808821568862011-11-23T07:30:00.001+01:002011-11-23T07:30:00.472+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FKjYaUOI6fA/TsvjIzeEUDI/AAAAAAAAFkw/u_RpDNpwv6U/s1600/MarcinKolpanowicz_TheLastTenement-house.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="393" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FKjYaUOI6fA/TsvjIzeEUDI/AAAAAAAAFkw/u_RpDNpwv6U/s400/MarcinKolpanowicz_TheLastTenement-house.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Marcin Kolpanowicz:The Last Tenement-house<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Fast unmerklich geht</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">die Nacht in Morgen über.</div><div align="left">Das Herzklopfen will heute</div><div align="left">nicht aufhören</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Er stellt das Radio an und</div><div align="left">denkt: noch so ein Tag</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Draußen erwachen die</div><div align="left">alltäglichen Geräusche.</div><div align="left">Der Zeitungsbote kommt,</div><div align="left">der Briefträger, die Müllabfuhr</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Immer das Gleiche,</div><div align="left">denkt er wieder</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">In der Zeitung steht von</div><div align="left">Aufständen in Syrien und Ägypten</div><div align="left">doch wen interessiert das schon</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-219054380882156886?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-85026160446488551502011-11-22T07:30:00.006+01:002011-11-22T08:43:55.528+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rNebr4C6FEA/TsUwSegSGAI/AAAAAAAAFj4/wQgtAasJy1Y/s1600/GeorgeClairTooker+Jr_TheSubway.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rNebr4C6FEA/TsUwSegSGAI/AAAAAAAAFj4/wQgtAasJy1Y/s400/GeorgeClairTooker+Jr_TheSubway.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© George Clair Tooker Jr: The Subway<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Von Zeit zu Zeit</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">begegnet mir eine alte Dame</div><div align="left">und wir sprechen ein wenig</div><div align="left">von Kindern, Enkeln</div><div align="left">und was&nbsp;sonst noch</div><div align="left">wichtig&nbsp;ist im Leben</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">"Sie besuchen mich so selten"</div><div align="left">sagt sie und dann gehen wir</div><div align="left">weiter, jeder in seine Richtung</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-8502616044648855150?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-23994073647080420642011-11-21T07:30:00.001+01:002011-11-21T08:46:24.846+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FYnPItB3OZM/TsaZxEcn5GI/AAAAAAAAFkA/chquQk2BhqA/s1600/CynthiaBreusch_SavingIcarus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="316" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FYnPItB3OZM/TsaZxEcn5GI/AAAAAAAAFkA/chquQk2BhqA/s320/CynthiaBreusch_SavingIcarus.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Cynthia Breusch: Saving Icarus<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Als Jugendlicher war mein Plan<br />kurz und intensiv&nbsp;zu leben <br />kein Abenteuer auszulassen <br />und keine Liebe</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Im Alter sah ich dann zurück</div><div align="left">und erkannte dass mein Plan</div><div align="left">gescheitert war</div><div align="left"><br />Von Anfang bis Ende warst </div><div align="left">immer nur du in meinem Leben</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-2399407364708042064?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-73964979437550493852011-11-20T07:30:00.005+01:002011-11-21T09:24:58.217+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EW7j-D9TZuc/TsaeicsYdWI/AAAAAAAAFkI/seNkJpwsyv4/s1600/DowneBurns_Colourworld_II.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="230" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EW7j-D9TZuc/TsaeicsYdWI/AAAAAAAAFkI/seNkJpwsyv4/s400/DowneBurns_Colourworld_II.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Downe Burns: Colourworld II<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Als der Tag zu Ende ging<br />und die Jahre, setzten wir <br />uns nieder und sagten <br />morgen fängt das Leben an<br /><br />Doch das Leben war uns<br />längst davon gelaufen<br /><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-7396497943755049385?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-28002576282296089182011-11-19T07:30:00.002+01:002011-11-19T07:30:02.337+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VoKmteHDZ1U/TsUsPCiQTUI/AAAAAAAAFjw/cKuAglybhoE/s1600/VictorKarnaukh_WinterGame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="332" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VoKmteHDZ1U/TsUsPCiQTUI/AAAAAAAAFjw/cKuAglybhoE/s400/VictorKarnaukh_WinterGame.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Victor Karnaukh: Winter Game<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Bald bereite ich mich</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">auf den Winter vor,</div><div align="left">stelle Gefühle ab</div><div align="left">und lege Träume und</div><div align="left">Leidenschaften auf Eis</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Das Fell lasse ich mir wachsen,</div><div align="left">lege eine Speckschicht an</div><div align="left">und polstere die Wohnhöhle<br />mit Illusionen und</div><div align="left">falschen Hoffnungen</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Zugige Ritzen will ich</div><div align="left">mit Sehnsüchten dichten</div><div align="left">und dein Bild darüber hängen</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Wie man sich bettet</div><div align="left">so liegt man</div><div align="left">und es soll an nichts fehlen ...</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-2800257628229608918?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-28428591063469480362011-11-18T07:30:00.001+01:002011-11-18T08:57:17.205+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o0j3LO3FNHU/TsUpPa6DhvI/AAAAAAAAFjo/jQ5OCj0opcI/s1600/CarrieGraber_ATasteOfTheNight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="293" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o0j3LO3FNHU/TsUpPa6DhvI/AAAAAAAAFjo/jQ5OCj0opcI/s400/CarrieGraber_ATasteOfTheNight.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Carrie Graber: A Taste Of The Night<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Hast den Tag</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">zu mir geschickt</div><div align="left">mit seinen dummen Fragen</div><div align="left">nach wie</div><div align="left">und nach warum</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Schick die Nacht</div><div align="left">zu mir</div><div align="left">sie breitet ihren</div><div align="left">Mantel aus und</div><div align="left">schenkt Vergessen</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-2842859106346948036?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-79693084992792350332011-11-17T07:30:00.008+01:002011-11-17T07:30:01.418+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-u_8Ur7zZW-0/TsIlAT53gPI/AAAAAAAAFjg/eBew6xytPPQ/s1600/BerylCook_FeedingTime.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" nda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-u_8Ur7zZW-0/TsIlAT53gPI/AAAAAAAAFjg/eBew6xytPPQ/s400/BerylCook_FeedingTime.jpg" width="286" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Beryl Cook: Feeding Time<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Eines Tages werden</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">sie kommen und sagen</div><div align="left">dass du nicht mehr</div><div align="left">gebraucht wirst</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Eines Tages</div><div align="left">wirst du zum</div><div align="left">alten Eisen gehören</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Eines Tages bist du</div><div align="left">eine Belastung geworden</div><div align="left">für's System -</div><div align="left">du hast zu lange gelebt<br /><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-7969308499279235033?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-64533807148687852292011-11-16T07:30:00.004+01:002011-11-16T07:30:02.830+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7T-eU0_p6w/TrmKmrTXGlI/AAAAAAAAFjA/ARUAGA1aeNQ/s1600/Garmash_TheAllure.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" ida="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7T-eU0_p6w/TrmKmrTXGlI/AAAAAAAAFjA/ARUAGA1aeNQ/s400/Garmash_TheAllure.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Garmash: The Allure<br /><br /><div align="left">Längst vergessen geglaubte Erinnerungen <br />kamen mir in den Sinne als die Muschel<br />in meiner Hand lag, glatt und kühl</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><br />Mir war als hörte ich das Meer&nbsp;rauschen</div><div align="left">sah deinen Schatten im&nbsp;Sand und <br />deine Liebe hatte die helle Farbe <br />eines Sommertages</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-6453380714868785229?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-43599438489315295562011-11-15T07:30:00.000+01:002011-11-15T07:30:02.382+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dlp-FGdtub8/TmnB6MRhvuI/AAAAAAAAFYw/IDU_dENFs9U/s1600/JoselitoSabogal_EnlacesAmigos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" nba="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dlp-FGdtub8/TmnB6MRhvuI/AAAAAAAAFYw/IDU_dENFs9U/s320/JoselitoSabogal_EnlacesAmigos.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Joselito Sabogal: Enlaces Amigos<br /><br /><div align="left">Auch&nbsp;heute wieder Fragen</div><div align="left">nach dem Sinne des Lebens</div><div align="left">und keine Antworten</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Am Abend dann&nbsp;das Lied</div><div align="left">das mir keine Ruhe lässt</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-4359943848931529556?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-6495770987961988032011-11-14T07:30:00.055+01:002011-11-14T08:54:01.055+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5mf14qYX_xs/Tr4s5fYIHzI/AAAAAAAAFjQ/6cH08gr7kkA/s1600/JakeBaddeley_Breeze.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" nda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5mf14qYX_xs/Tr4s5fYIHzI/AAAAAAAAFjQ/6cH08gr7kkA/s400/JakeBaddeley_Breeze.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Jake Baddeley: Breeze<br /><br /><div align="left">Kaum zu übersehen,</div><div align="left">die Tage nähern sich</div><div align="left">ihrem Ende</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Woher nehmen den Gleichmut<br />um Unvorstellbares<br />erwarten zu können</div><div align="left"><br />Und wo ist er, der alle Leiden</div><div align="left">dieser Welt auf seine</div><div align="left">Schultern nimmt?</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-649577098796198803?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-33221026376107721712011-11-13T07:30:00.022+01:002011-11-13T09:03:53.665+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Tuwr5YNaIno/TrTyNVSAa1I/AAAAAAAAFiQ/NnTLSM-7KEM/s1600/GabrielMoreno_Tattoo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="234" ida="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Tuwr5YNaIno/TrTyNVSAa1I/AAAAAAAAFiQ/NnTLSM-7KEM/s320/GabrielMoreno_Tattoo.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Gabriel Moreno: Tattoo<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">In der unsäglichen Tristesse<br />des Novemberabends</div><div align="left">denke ich an dich</div><div align="left">und&nbsp;gebe dir Zeichen</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><br />Mein Morsealphabet besteht</div><div align="left">aus drei Worten</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-3322102637610772171?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-59124319813506948582011-11-12T07:30:00.002+01:002011-11-12T07:30:01.295+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KiRwpk41zX8/TqkDNCg6rQI/AAAAAAAAFfg/P-Tr7wR2s3E/s1600/GeorgeCallaghan_FourMenInTheSun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="318" ida="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KiRwpk41zX8/TqkDNCg6rQI/AAAAAAAAFfg/P-Tr7wR2s3E/s400/GeorgeCallaghan_FourMenInTheSun.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><em>© </em>George Callaghan: Four Men In The Sun<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Fotoausstellung vom</div><div align="left">Schicksal syrischer Einwanderer</div><div align="left">Verfolgt in ihrer Heimat</div><div align="left">Geflohen in ein freies Land</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Doch sie behalten ihre Bräuche</div><div align="left">Behalten Sprache und Gewohnheiten</div><div align="left">Sie bleiben ewig fremd im neuen Land</div><div align="left">Und wissen nicht warum</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div align="left"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-5912431981350694858?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-79666910000462010292011-11-11T07:30:00.003+01:002011-11-11T07:30:01.304+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xO_NQrfzExc/Tq-t8G_ZKUI/AAAAAAAAFgw/bC0sxGYv0JA/s1600/Donau-Spaziergang%252C+SYLKON.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="260" ida="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xO_NQrfzExc/Tq-t8G_ZKUI/AAAAAAAAFgw/bC0sxGYv0JA/s400/Donau-Spaziergang%252C+SYLKON.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Sylkon: Donau-Spaziergang<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Mit dir im Traum auf</div><div align="left">altbekannten Wegen gehen</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Nichts fürchten</div><div align="left">nichts wünschen</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Nur glücklich sein</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-7966691000046201029?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-52569593562816212112011-11-10T07:30:00.016+01:002011-11-10T07:30:00.707+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HSf2Y-RaUcE/TrluNcyOlXI/AAAAAAAAFi4/QO9Kk3z_LxU/s1600/RozaGoneva_StreamOfPassion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" ida="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HSf2Y-RaUcE/TrluNcyOlXI/AAAAAAAAFi4/QO9Kk3z_LxU/s400/RozaGoneva_StreamOfPassion.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Roza Goneva: Stream Of Passion<br /><br /><div align="left">Weit weg,</div><div align="left">verborgen hinter</div><div align="left">den Flügeln der Nacht</div><div align="left">liegt mein einsames Herz</div><div align="left">und wartet auf</div><div align="left">einen ehrlichen Finder</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Wenn du es siehst,</div><div align="left">nimm es mit</div><div align="left">es wird dir treu sein</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-5256959356281621211?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-78008802311227339732011-11-09T07:30:00.010+01:002011-11-10T22:33:08.006+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xgGdJga_Gns/Tqwem22YUJI/AAAAAAAAFgA/GWSiFLcCMrw/s1600/GaryAkers_AfternoonRest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="270" ida="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xgGdJga_Gns/Tqwem22YUJI/AAAAAAAAFgA/GWSiFLcCMrw/s400/GaryAkers_AfternoonRest.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Gary Akers: Afternoon Rest<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Manchmal möchte ich <br />meine Koffer packen und<br />abreisen ohne Ziel und<br />ohne jemals anzukommen<br /><br />Zurück würde ein <br />Ufer bleiben und das<br />Ende eines Weges<br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(Zitat Heinz Piontek)<br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-7800880231122733973?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-5033362319610935032011-11-08T07:30:00.003+01:002011-11-08T18:32:38.119+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3FYchXtNuho/TrZ4nvzxV8I/AAAAAAAAFio/gsVkdyKdLsc/s1600/TylerBurke_Bebop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" ida="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3FYchXtNuho/TrZ4nvzxV8I/AAAAAAAAFio/gsVkdyKdLsc/s400/TylerBurke_Bebop.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Tyler Burke: Bebop<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Es war mein bester Arbeitsplatz</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Tagsüber Architekt</div><div align="left">und abends Musiker.</div><div align="left">Tagsüber Stress und<br />abends Dixieland</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Wir hatten eine Band.</div><div align="left">Lars, der Sänger -</div><div align="left">die Stimme weich wie Sandpapier</div><div align="left">sein Banjo hart und rythmisch</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Der spindeldürre Stig</div><div align="left">am Schlagzeug und</div><div align="left">Björn mit der Trompete</div><div align="left">kein Thema war ihm fremd</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Ein El-Bassist -</div><div align="left">den Namen habe ich vergessen</div><div align="left">und ich auf Klarinette,</div><div align="left">Sax und Keyboard.</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">As Time Goes By ... </div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-503336231961093503?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-64856522004144660202011-11-07T07:30:00.001+01:002011-11-07T07:30:01.799+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X9Wxg1ofeIE/TrZ1Vx1LPmI/AAAAAAAAFig/mK7VfmKM3wE/s1600/GaryPruner_CosmeticPerjury.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" ida="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X9Wxg1ofeIE/TrZ1Vx1LPmI/AAAAAAAAFig/mK7VfmKM3wE/s400/GaryPruner_CosmeticPerjury.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Gary Pruner: Cosmetic Perjury<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Ein Film im Fernsehen</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Zwei Menschen die</div><div align="left">sich nichts mehr</div><div align="left">zu sagen haben</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Es könnte ein</div><div align="left">Stummfilm sein</div><div align="left">aber sie reden</div><div align="left">und reden</div><div align="left">und reden ... </div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-6485652200414466020?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-8590473999876754492011-11-06T07:30:00.002+01:002011-11-06T07:30:01.502+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jsJvZnsG5DU/TrUFp3UwosI/AAAAAAAAFiY/r1VGW5HzWp4/s1600/PattyAmpleford_GentlySpeaking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="196" ida="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jsJvZnsG5DU/TrUFp3UwosI/AAAAAAAAFiY/r1VGW5HzWp4/s400/PattyAmpleford_GentlySpeaking.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Patty Ampleford: Gently Speaking<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Nur selten hielten wir inne </div><div align="left">in der Geschäftigkeit</div><div align="left">des Alltags</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Spät war es geworden</div><div align="left">als wir aufschreckten</div><div align="left">in der Dämmerung</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Doch das Leben war </div><div align="left">weiter gezogen</div><div align="left">ohne uns</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-859047399987675449?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-44669889478337603542011-11-05T07:30:00.002+01:002011-11-05T07:30:01.115+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OX6wdvATKxI/Tq_RVUpiScI/AAAAAAAAFg4/ljRMr9dgHjI/s1600/AndrewGonzales_TheAngelOfNekyia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" ida="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OX6wdvATKxI/Tq_RVUpiScI/AAAAAAAAFg4/ljRMr9dgHjI/s400/AndrewGonzales_TheAngelOfNekyia.jpg" width="196" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Andrew Gonzales: The Angel Of Nekyia<br /><br /><div align="left">Wo bleiben unsere Träume<br />wenn sie geträumt sind</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Haben sie einen </div><div align="left">eigenen Himmel</div><div align="left">eine eigene Hölle</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Oder sind sie nur</div><div align="left">der Atem von Engeln -<br />flüchtig ,,,</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-4466988947833760354?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-73400186123382576762011-11-04T07:30:00.007+01:002011-11-04T13:30:03.424+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AYgMeXnUbC0/TrMLT_MUjKI/AAAAAAAAFiA/vMKHon6c7ZY/s1600/CarrieGraber_AfterMidnight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="286" ida="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AYgMeXnUbC0/TrMLT_MUjKI/AAAAAAAAFiA/vMKHon6c7ZY/s400/CarrieGraber_AfterMidnight.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Carrie Graber: After Midnight<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Den Wolken zum Trotz will sich<br />heute&nbsp;kein Regen einstellen</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Herbst liegt in der Luft mit</div><div align="left">allen seinen Nocturnes</div><div align="left">und Abschiedswalzern wie</div><div align="left">bei Chopin</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Doch in meinen Erinnerungen</div><div align="left">ist ewiger Frühling</div><div align="left">in meinen Erinnerungen</div><div align="left">bist immer nur du</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-7340018612338257676?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-22930045137237096732011-11-03T07:30:00.004+01:002011-11-03T07:30:00.564+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Sik6Q5dXzEY/Tqf94tWl2sI/AAAAAAAAFeE/xql36GLUvSY/s1600/PetrosAslanian_FallLandscape%252CQuebec.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="328" ida="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Sik6Q5dXzEY/Tqf94tWl2sI/AAAAAAAAFeE/xql36GLUvSY/s400/PetrosAslanian_FallLandscape%252CQuebec.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Petros Aslanian: Fall Landscape<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Herbstfarben</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">gelb und braun</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Farben des Abschieds</div><div align="left">und der Hoffnung auf</div><div align="left">Wiederkehr</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-2293004513723709673?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-28531072087549290502011-11-02T07:30:00.001+01:002011-11-02T07:30:02.180+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zIHVTn3vdcM/Tq0k4BSO9vI/AAAAAAAAFgI/KcNsNgeNgXo/s1600/LiliC%25C3%25B4me_LesColombes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" ida="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zIHVTn3vdcM/Tq0k4BSO9vI/AAAAAAAAFgI/KcNsNgeNgXo/s320/LiliC%25C3%25B4me_LesColombes.jpg" width="318" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Lili Côme: Les Colombes<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Ich bin keiner der lange</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">an Versen knobelt</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Sie kommen geflogen</div><div align="left">und ich sage danke</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Niemand antwortet </div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-2853107208754929050?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-87000852358912852702011-11-01T07:30:00.010+01:002011-11-01T08:35:33.214+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1p5xq9VNIDg/Tq5mRVwEiHI/AAAAAAAAFgo/ANQhNAXGSQM/s1600/Die-letzten-warmen-Sonnenstrahlen%252C+Reinhard+Unger.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="293" ida="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1p5xq9VNIDg/Tq5mRVwEiHI/AAAAAAAAFgo/ANQhNAXGSQM/s400/Die-letzten-warmen-Sonnenstrahlen%252C+Reinhard+Unger.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Reinhard Unger: Die letzten warmen Sonnenstrahlen<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Den perfekten Tag finden</div><div align="left">ihn einrahmen und</div><div align="left">an die Wand hängen</div><div align="left">für späteren Gebrauch</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-8700085235891285270?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-28987842119048022972011-10-31T07:30:00.001+01:002011-11-01T09:07:21.209+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qaT1O6NN_Pc/Tq0mpmDoKkI/AAAAAAAAFgQ/QeQUsfwix3A/s1600/PaulHuber_ContemplatingTakeoff.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" ida="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qaT1O6NN_Pc/Tq0mpmDoKkI/AAAAAAAAFgQ/QeQUsfwix3A/s400/PaulHuber_ContemplatingTakeoff.jpg" width="245" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Paul Huber: Contemplating Takeoff<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Unlängst als ich meine</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Flügel ausbreitete und</div><div align="left">von der Erde abhob</div><div align="left">sah ich dich winken</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Doch es war zu spät</div><div align="left">der Himmel hatte mich</div><div align="left">wieder</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-2898784211904802297?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-47069713934304502962011-10-30T07:30:00.000+01:002011-10-30T07:30:01.453+01:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UJL-y3oCid0/TqmSc4btwiI/AAAAAAAAFfw/rY4uhiPVH6c/s1600/FelixMas_Cabaret.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" ida="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UJL-y3oCid0/TqmSc4btwiI/AAAAAAAAFfw/rY4uhiPVH6c/s400/FelixMas_Cabaret.jpg" width="251" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Felix Mas: Cabaret<br /><br /><div align="left">Eines Tages wird die</div><div align="left">Erinnerung an dich</div><div align="left">verweht sein</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Eines Tages wird dein</div><div align="left">Bild in mir verblasst sein</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Eines Tages werde ich</div><div align="left">nicht mehr sein</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div align="left"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-4706971393430450296?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-352669130087845492011-10-29T07:30:00.000+02:002011-10-29T07:30:00.886+02:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-excCHzWsQcA/Tqps3UlttxI/AAAAAAAAFf4/SAS1eSyl6Ms/s1600/MarcoRea_Maschera.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" ida="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-excCHzWsQcA/Tqps3UlttxI/AAAAAAAAFf4/SAS1eSyl6Ms/s320/MarcoRea_Maschera.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Marco Rea: Maschera<br /><br /><div align="left">Die Traurigkeit der Nacht</div><div align="left">wenn Straßenlaternen</div><div align="left">bizarre Schatten werfen und</div><div align="left">der letzte Zug gegangen ist</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Nichts ist mehr wie es scheint</div><div align="left">und Einsamkeit </div><div align="left">hat einen Namen</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-35266913008784549?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-54561228471741069502011-10-28T07:30:00.002+02:002011-10-28T07:30:02.446+02:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ss0MikL-6Qo/TqmNkOB96KI/AAAAAAAAFfo/AxVAST8Qvck/s1600/MaggieHasbrouck_TheRedHorse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="301" ida="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ss0MikL-6Qo/TqmNkOB96KI/AAAAAAAAFfo/AxVAST8Qvck/s400/MaggieHasbrouck_TheRedHorse.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Maggie Hasbrouck: The Red Horse<br /><br /><div align="left">Im Spiegel das Bild</div><div align="left">das ich nicht wahrhaben will</div><div align="left">Gnadenlose&nbsp;Zeichen</div><div align="left">gelebter Zeit</div><div align="left">Verwischte Spuren von</div><div align="left">Sehnsucht und Jugend</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Im Spiegel das Bild</div><div align="left">das ein Leben geformt hat</div><div align="left">Kaum noch zu erkennen</div><div align="left">der Junge mit seinen Träumen</div><div align="left">mit seinen Tränen und</div><div align="left">seinen Hoffnungen </div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-5456122847174106950?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-31764573728527799382011-10-27T07:30:00.013+02:002011-10-27T07:30:01.342+02:00 <br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UCXpRTm21B4/TphnyqeEfZI/AAAAAAAAFcU/rPeJpHOE574/s1600/MarcinKolpanowicz_DestinationPlace.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" oda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UCXpRTm21B4/TphnyqeEfZI/AAAAAAAAFcU/rPeJpHOE574/s320/MarcinKolpanowicz_DestinationPlace.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Marcin Kolpanowicz: Destination Place<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Zurückgelassen</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">von einem Tag</div><div align="left">der weiterzog</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Zurückgelassen</div><div align="left">in einem</div><div align="left">fremden Leben</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-3176457372852779938?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-60791892441402089102011-10-26T07:30:00.001+02:002011-10-26T14:26:45.712+02:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mz1LBVUm93g/TqcPpaKbazI/AAAAAAAAFd8/63dY9Zkl-nU/s1600/UweEinig_IndianSummer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="291" ida="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mz1LBVUm93g/TqcPpaKbazI/AAAAAAAAFd8/63dY9Zkl-nU/s400/UweEinig_IndianSummer.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Uwe Einig: Indian Summer<br /><br /><div align="left">Auch die Eberesche</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">hat der Herbst erreicht</div><div align="left">gelbe Blätter</div><div align="left">fallen auf die Bank</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Hier habe ich</div><div align="left">dein Gedicht gelesen</div><div align="left">und von Liebe</div><div align="left">geträumt</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-6079189244140208910?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-68996711304388943872011-10-25T07:30:00.001+02:002011-10-25T07:30:00.675+02:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XSznmSmEtK4/TqUPunqz6HI/AAAAAAAAFd0/3MIW8sGBpDI/s1600/MaryBourke_KnittingOnARedRock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" rda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XSznmSmEtK4/TqUPunqz6HI/AAAAAAAAFd0/3MIW8sGBpDI/s320/MaryBourke_KnittingOnARedRock.jpg" width="316" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Mary Bourke: Knitting On A Red Rock<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"><br />So im Nachhinein bilde ich mir ein</div><div align="left">manche Jahre verschlafen zu haben</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Da sind keine Erinnerungen außer</div><div align="left">einem müden Gähnen</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-6899671130438894387?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-7945425895302850302011-10-24T07:30:00.010+02:002011-10-24T07:30:00.436+02:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-egfJR3NL1tc/Tp0wU9IGclI/AAAAAAAAFc8/UN1K4ZPZJL8/s1600/Micha_pixelio.de.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" oda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-egfJR3NL1tc/Tp0wU9IGclI/AAAAAAAAFc8/UN1K4ZPZJL8/s400/Micha_pixelio.de.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Micha_pixelio.de<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Eine Wunderkerze für alle<br />die hilflos sind und <br />Schutz suchen<br /><br />Eine Wunderkerze für <br />Kinder die weinen weil sie<br />erwachsen werden und<br />für alle an denen<br />das Leben achtlos<br />vorüber gegangen ist<br /><br />Eine Wunderkerze als<br />Trost und in Erwartung <br />des Wunders<br /><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-794542589530285030?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-18647041717417516122011-10-23T07:30:00.005+02:002011-10-23T07:30:01.139+02:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CBc5yFfZau0/TqEgQqWJ3yI/AAAAAAAAFdc/5qPZXCZkppI/s1600/JoselitoSabogal_ElGranJefe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="242" rda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CBc5yFfZau0/TqEgQqWJ3yI/AAAAAAAAFdc/5qPZXCZkppI/s320/JoselitoSabogal_ElGranJefe.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Joselito Sabogal: El Gran Jefe<br /><br /><div align="left">Sollte einer kommen</div><div align="left">und&nbsp;fragen ob ich</div><div align="left">mir das Leben</div><div align="left">so vorgestellt hatte</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Werde ich antworten</div><div align="left">viel schlechter,</div><div align="left">ehrlich gesagt&nbsp;...</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div align="left"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-1864704171741751612?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-29870531157887432892011-10-22T07:30:00.016+02:002011-10-22T07:30:01.992+02:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7JS781ZkiOg/TqBnET_iRzI/AAAAAAAAFdU/46OtRWPMvlk/s1600/Dr.Klaus-UweGerhardt_pixelio.de.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" rda="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7JS781ZkiOg/TqBnET_iRzI/AAAAAAAAFdU/46OtRWPMvlk/s400/Dr.Klaus-UweGerhardt_pixelio.de.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Dr. Klaus-Uwe Gerhardt_pixelio.de<br /><br /><div align="left">Mein letztes Gedicht</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">sei der Silberdistel gewidmet</div><div align="left">Carlina acaulis</div><div align="left">auch Wetterdistel genannt</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Wie sie will ich</div><div align="left">dicht an die Erde geschmiegt</div><div align="left">die Unwetter überdauern</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Wo der Regenbogen</div><div align="left">die Erde berührt</div><div align="left">suche ich das Glück</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Dort ist die Sonne nicht weit</div><div align="left">die mein Herz wärmt</div><div align="left">Ein gläsernes Herz</div><div align="left">wie im Märchen</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Dieses "letzte Gedicht" war eins </span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size: x-small;">meiner allerersten ...</span></em><br /><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-2987053115788743289?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-86822592260182489672011-10-21T07:30:00.002+02:002011-10-21T07:30:00.772+02:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lDIdt0cm9Kk/TqA_ina6umI/AAAAAAAAFdM/UJRVPHK7uJI/s1600/muensterland.de.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" rda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lDIdt0cm9Kk/TqA_ina6umI/AAAAAAAAFdM/UJRVPHK7uJI/s400/muensterland.de.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Münsterland.de<br /><br /><div align="left">Jetzt,&nbsp;da der Herbst</div><div align="left">ins Land zieht</div><div align="left">will ich zurückdenken an</div><div align="left">warme Sommertage</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Erster Herbststurm</div><div align="left">fegt übers Land</div><div align="left">Krähen wie Geschosse</div><div align="left">am Himmel</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Ich möchte in die </div><div align="left">Wüste fliehen</div><div align="left">Füße im warmen Sand und</div><div align="left">Karawanen beobachten</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-8682259226018248967?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-20489456341764648962011-10-20T07:30:00.007+02:002011-10-20T07:30:00.809+02:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GXNEu5aQatE/Tp8h31d8O3I/AAAAAAAAFdE/xjWnwek_a7w/s1600/Selma.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" rda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GXNEu5aQatE/Tp8h31d8O3I/AAAAAAAAFdE/xjWnwek_a7w/s200/Selma.jpg" width="176" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Selma Meerbaum-Eisinger<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Als achtzehnjährige 1942</div><div align="left">im Arbeitslager Michailowska</div><div align="left">ums Leben gekommen</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Einziger Nachlass</div><div align="left">57 Gedichte von </div><div align="left">eigenartiger Schönheit<br /><br /><br /><em>Wie dieses hier:</em><br /><br /><u>Schlaflied für dich</u><br />Komm zu mir, dann wieg' ich dich,<br />wiege dich zur Ruh'.<br />Komm zu mir und weine nicht,<br />mach die Augen zu.<br /><br />Ich flechte dir aus meinem Haar<br />eine Wiege, sieh!<br />Schläfst darin aller Schmerzen bar,<br />träumst drin ohne Müh'.<br /><br />Meine Augen sollen dir<br />blinkend Spielzeug sein.<br />Meine Lippen schenk' ich dir -<br />trink dich in sie ein.<br /><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-2048945634176464896?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-26184572269604694772011-10-19T07:30:00.004+02:002011-10-19T07:30:02.492+02:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EBBIVN3UHAY/TphqWcF7R8I/AAAAAAAAFcc/hUEBvHiB4N8/s1600/CrispinKorschen_Waiting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" oda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EBBIVN3UHAY/TphqWcF7R8I/AAAAAAAAFcc/hUEBvHiB4N8/s400/CrispinKorschen_Waiting.jpg" width="263" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Crispin Korschen: Waiting<br /><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Wenn alles wahr wäre</div><div align="left">was man hört</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Wenn alles wahr wäre<br />was man liest</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Wenn man alles</div><div align="left">glauben könnte ...<br /><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-2618457226960469477?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-7269359074928986542011-10-18T07:30:00.004+02:002011-10-18T07:30:00.096+02:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KsuswNB6fsM/Tpr_BQMOxJI/AAAAAAAAFcs/u-Yxv14AcGs/s1600/RainerSturm_pixelio.de.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="230" oda="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KsuswNB6fsM/Tpr_BQMOxJI/AAAAAAAAFcs/u-Yxv14AcGs/s400/RainerSturm_pixelio.de.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Rainer Sturm _ pixelio.de<br /><br /><div align="left">Bald werde ich wieder</div><div align="left">in&nbsp;der Stadt&nbsp;sein<br />die geteilt war</div><div align="left">werde die alten Wege</div><div align="left">mit dir gehen und</div><div align="left">dir die alten Worte</div><div align="left">ins Ohr flüstern</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Du wirst dich</div><div align="left">an mich schmiegen</div><div align="left">und sagen</div><div align="left">Wo warst du so lange</div><div align="left">Liebster ...</div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-726935907492898654?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23452210.post-30790978273764528462011-10-17T07:30:00.000+02:002011-10-17T07:30:00.808+02:00<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4Cqc63AkNnI/Tpc9PDOpMPI/AAAAAAAAFb8/Dhtng-GwLVQ/s1600/AlfredGockel_ColorfulFish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="280" oda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4Cqc63AkNnI/Tpc9PDOpMPI/AAAAAAAAFb8/Dhtng-GwLVQ/s400/AlfredGockel_ColorfulFish.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Alfred Gockel: Colorful Fish<br /><br /><div align="left">Der Mensch überfischt die Meere</div><div align="left">Die Fische rächen sich</div><div align="left">Indem sie weniger werden</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Den Menschen wundert das</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/23452210-3079097827376452846?l=gerhardsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Gerhardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03560352868162585811noreply@blogger.com