75

One foot in front of the other.
Slowly advancing.

Arms stretched out to the sides.
Waving graciously.
One holding a little umbrella.

She takes a bow when she´s in the middle.
Applause.
Everybody´s in awe of the pretty ballerina.
Walking the rope
one foot at a time.

74

Lost inside the carousel.
Dizzy and desperate
to get off this
instrument of my destruction.

Mirrors reflecting
what I do not want to see.
Showing me sides of myself
I had forgotten.

Carousel spinning out of control.
Loosing grip from the ground.
The monster in me that was caged
longs for the unevitable crash.
The means to an end.

73

Warm asphalt streets burns my feet.
Little miniature pebbles stick to my skin.
The sun reflects from every surface
making my skin produce little beads of sweat.

No wind today.
Just sun.
And Icecream.

72

The streets are covered
with the remnants of our ancestors.
Broken and shattered things,
ancient and mysterious,
that our minds can not grip.

What is it they left us?
The dawning world after the rise from the nethers.
We saw it filled with new inhabitants.
Wild ones,
roaming the ruins that they claim for their own.

Streets now covered with the blood
of us and them.
Inevitable fighting of territory.
Their old world
were ours first.
And we will make it a new home.

71

From where the clouds reside
the world,
fields, rivers and cities
great and small alike,
pass by so fast.

The speed of wind.
The air pressed back by mighty wings.

From up where winds caress each other
the horizon is curved
and the earth is seen from a distance
like a map you never have use of.

70

Loud shouting from the docks
I can hear more than that from my window.
The creaking of ropes
and the complaining straining wood.

Seagulls screaming out their anger
above the waves
that are crushed against the breakers.

Flags and sails snapping at the wind.
Barrels are rolled up and down the boards
coming from or going to distand lands
that I hear smells of spice and smoke.

All that I hear.
Nothing I see
I shall never see the sea.

69

She was caught unaware.
His hands were so cold
and he told her he had the hots for her.

He took her hand
after he proclaimed his affection
and she shivered in delight.
This was going great.
Wasit love he saw in her eyes?

68

Carefully applying the red.
One dot at the time.

The brush being used
is the smallest you could find.
A point no larger than a needles tip.

One dot after the other
creating a pattern
not to be seen.
One red dot after another
on a canvas not to be explained.

The focus of the muse is vibrant
the slightes tremble causes a flood of sweat
dripping from the forehead
through the eyebrows.
While the artist paints
one red dot after the other.
Not knowing what awaits his eyes.

67

Slowly the hand approaches,
fingers relentlesly aiming for the button.

So bright and red
the button is.

The hand has reached its goal.
The button.
The owner of the hand knows what it must do.
The hand acting as the extention
of the owners mind,
presses with the indexfinger
with just the right amount of pressure needed.
And the button is pressed.
It has fulfilled its purpose.
And everything ends.

66

There are silver specks of sand
in the corner of your eyes.
There are golden drops of saliva
glistening on your lower lip.
Diamonds reflect with perfection
in the iris of your eye.

Your face painted with the most soothing
nuances of red and blue
and purple and pink.
Your nails carefully made shiny like
they were covered in mother of pearl

You want to look precious
costly and high maintenance.

You look cheap.

65

You are famous
Big in japan as they say
Answer their questions
Smile like a madman
Live up to their expectations
Dare to live the dream

64

I see it in my eyes
as I look at myself
in a mirror.

It is clear.
I am ready.
Even thoug there is so many things
that speaks against it.

My heart says "Go"
There is a warm sensation
when I throw caution aside
and accept
that I already made up my heart
and my mind just have to tag along.

63

Crawling up my back.
Smiling under my skin.
Needlesharp claws
turning my muscles into twisted nests.

Agony comfortably resting in the curve of my back
lying there waiting to be disturbed.

Flossing with my nerves
stretching out the tissue like an illfitting sweater
and biting in my spine
hungry for the marrow within.

I can only imagine.

62

We woke up
from the disaster
that our friends laid before us

We found out
that the future was decided
by the choises we made
and not by the decisions
that people
dressed in green
made by the influence
of the circumciced illwilled
wildeyed clowns whatever...

I love waking up.
And the truth is her.
And the meaning of it all,
the substance of reality,
and i´m sickening you
is her.

61

In your eyes a fairytale.
In your smile salvation.
A tender caress
and soft fingertips across my brow.
A whisper and a kiss.
Soft and quick that leaves a thought of never happened.

In your hair the morning light.
In your movement fun and games.
Laughter is poetry from your lips.
Tears the end of the world.

The warmness of you
like a furnace warming my heart.

Coming home was never before coming home.
Until you.

60

Everything paused.
It hung there
in the air.
Still.

The distant vague sound of people below
stilled,
as the step they were about to take had to wait.

it lasted only for a second
if seconds had existed then.

Everything paused.
Everything waiten in aticipation.
The world held its breath.

The moment expanded and shrunk,
like it lived.
And as sudden as everything stopped,
it began again.
When she said yes.

59

It is a million city.
Streets, boulevards and alleys everywhere.
Houses so tall you can´t see the end of them.
A neverending stream of people,
goals, destinys and duties.

I walk among them.
trying to find my own path of these millions to choose from.
Which one takes me home?

58

The air knows it.
There´s a stillness of anticipation.
There are leaves from last autumn hanging still
in the spring breeze,
waiting for their final moment
as another moment is waiting for its time to shine.

The moment is soon here.
When she reaches out her hand
and the universe draws its breath.
A sudden lowering of the oxygen,
making us all a little dizzy.
And the autumn leaf stirred again.

Spring has come
with mall green buds of life and hope.
The butterflies stomp in their startingpits,
waiting for that summer day.

I can´t wait that long.

57

Can you feel it?
The platonic hatred.
The sense of dislike and the want to disturb his circles.

To annoy him,
irritate and anger and bluff,
your vocation.

56

The ticking never stops.
The spinning world is out of control.
Time tells wierd tales of future history,
and we listen in awe.
Not knowing what to do with the information.

A spreading madness.
Wild botox smiles
perfect teeth so white the colour white is jealous of their whiteness
And haircuts so sharp you cut your eyes watching them.
TV.

Our ears cry
by the sheer forse of the meaningless,
the dravel and the pointless beats from the radio.
Noises and voices that desperately wants to be called music.

Our sanity is placed under the sword of Damokles.
Don´t look up.
That trembling feeling in your spine is there to stay.

I´m sorry.

55

When they met it was all about the lust.
But all the dirt and all the dust
turned their love into withering rust.

She does what she pleases
He does what he must.
In all the dirt and the dust.

She found him in a world desolated.
He saw her and her golden hair braided.
An instant affair
ridding their hair of despair.
And all worldly things they faded.

Time is not so easily controlled
Splitting days in five is for the bold.
Living side by side
a victim of the turning tide.
Time for love is nothing to be sold.

54

53

Little pieces of glass
sharp and shiny and cruel,
showing you the fragments of your inner disease.

The frame almost empty
as you pass by.
The once so proud mirror,
now broken and humble
choosing what to reflect
and to portray.

Everything is pieces
pieces put together.

52

How long has it been since you slept?
Your waking eyes now red,
staring into oblivion and beyond.

Your yawning swallowing universes
and the noise of your cracking knuckles
kickstarts creation in several big bangs.

How long since you forgot forgiveness?
How long since you randomly kicked a stone,
and somones fate got altered?

I don´t know.
You should,
with your allseeing and mighty,
mighty tired eye.

51

There is hope
peeking in on me from around the corner
closer than I thought.

There is a glimpse of light
shining down on me

All I have to do is my best
and hope it will suffice

50

There is a trace of spring in the wind
blowing through the branches waving hello,
still naked.

The snow,
only traces left
pathetic excuses of old white downfall

Hope brewing,
lighter at heart,
smiling more often now.

Hello mild breezes.
Goodbye mittens and wooly hats

49

Carefully putting one piece upon the other.
Tower of blocks destined for great heights.
Wiggling and trembling,
fearing a gust of air.

Pieces not perfect are not very good to staple.
Blocks with uneven sides.
Multiple colours.
Different letters and numbers not suited for kids.

But I guess that´s just the ways blocks should be.

48

I have decided on everything but the moment.
The right one,
none other will do.

I have decided on everything but the metal.
How it will catch the light and the eyes of onlookers.
I know what I´m looking for.

Really I haven´t decided much
apart from the truth behind it all.

I see certainty. I see future.
I see love and I feel it.

47

I don´t mind
if you do a little killing.
As long as it´s only killing time.

Ass down.
Feet up.
Back back.
Relaxing and watching the passing of time.

Seeing it curling up on the floor in agony
flinching as it draws its final minute breath.
Killing time is not entertaining...

It´s just killing time.

46

He is the master of disguise.
He's both short and tall
slim and obese,
and nobody knows his name.

His eyes are many colors
his hair both short and long
the only thing that's certain
is the darkness of his soul.

You'll never know if you met him
but you probably have.
If the hairs on your arms
and on the back of your head
suddenly stood frozen
along with your skin...

He was there.

45

Will it never stop?
This up and down motion
that isn't going forward.

Stuck in a wagonwheel.
I am on the brink of surrender.

Days fade into each other.
Groundhogday haunting.

I must break this cycle.
I must set me free somehow.

44

Silently sitting there.
So serene.

The world in chaos and turmoil around her.
Like an eternal lotus blossom
glowing from within
eyes closed
peaceful smile.

Not a thing disturbs her.
The ground is shaking
flames
gunshots blazing
screaming and crying
bombs falling
heaven ripping apart.

43

Even though you might not believe it,
you are a part of this conversation.

I will not let you leave until you've heard me out.
Until you have thought about what I've said,
and commented it.

You are constantly wrapped up in yourself,
tight and whirley.
That makes you forget you are a part of the rest of us.
Dizzy, head in the clouds, absent minded.
Wake up for gods sake!
Answer something else than "huh?"!

42

42

41

It almost changed everything.
Now it didn´t.
I don´t know what that means,
if it means anything at all.

I don´t know if I should give it more thought.

I checked the facts.
It´s common,
it happens one time of two.
Destiny flipping a coin.

You can´t be wallowing in the what-ifs.
But still...
What if?

40

39

38

37

36

Within you is forever.
Your eternal soul,
semicorporeal magic.

Little lightnings of reality
with every touch of your fingertips
connects your spirit with the everlasting memory.

The world mind.
The whispers in the wind
the ghosts
the deja vús.

You are the elongation of your soul.
The instrument of your mind.
The plaything of your spirit.

Did you really think you were just a human?

35

Come on...
Have a little faith in me...
I promise you
nothing will go wrong.

Get on...
Jump on this moving train with me.
Take on the world with me.
Stand by my side
and I will stand by yours
when the world tries to strike back at us.

We will win...
We will rise up above it all.
Stand victorious, hand in hand and laugh...

If you only dare...

34

Rainbow and drops of rain
in the iris of her eye.

In her stare you find
the freedom of the sky.

You know you can't make her smile
but you know you have to try.

This sadeyed lady of the mist
just wish she could more than cry.

33

There is wisdom in defeat.
So I was told
pupil at the school of war.

Though surrender may be wise
at times,
in it there is no honor.

Think yourself king
hiding and feuding on a chessboard.

Plan in four dimensions.
Sceme and plot and feint.
Use all tools and tricks you've learned,
all those times you ended up in check mate.

32

Awake and aware.
The ceiling is where it was yesterday evening.

Yet there is still something.
You can't put your finger on it.
Has there been anybody here?

The curtain is down.
The lights are off.

Then you see it.
The heart pinned on the wall.

31

The curtain is ripped anda single ray of light falls
on the little one kneeling in the dust.
Above her head the trapezes rocks side to side.
Soon they will be still with only memories of long gone firm grips.
The tent is empty now.
The absence of the brass orchestra
and the emptiness after childrens laughter and awe
haunts the little one sitting in the sand.
In the middle of the ring.
The once lighted manege.
Tears clean becomes dirty
on the cheeks dusted with makeup.
Resulting in stripes in the face of the little one.
No hoofbeats.
No lions roar.
The circus is dark,
all that remains is the clown.

30

29

Key in lock.
Turn.
Open door.
Two steps in.
Shoes off.
Call hello.
Gloves in pocket.
Jacket on hanger.
Enter room.
See my love.
Smile.
Kiss my love.
Lips against lips.
Perfect ending.

28

The monsters from the depths of human imagination,
in their infancy they claw with numb talons
on the walls of our understanding.

Reaching, growling,
drooling, howling,
tongues flashing like lightnings.

Bewildered eyes not gripping the reality of existance,
the idea of sight and blurry visions.
Limbo some say, where these monstrous creatures dwell,
made semireal by the tales we tell our sons and daughters.
Haunting their closets and breathing loudly under their beds.

Fur and scales
horns and fangs
tails and wings
growing on them as we tell them to.
In our stories they are slain, lying bloody in their remains.
In our minds heroes are forgotten, warriors deeds fade away.
But the monsters we created with our imagination.
The creatures they stay.

27

It's very quiet.
Not a thing can be heard
as the dust settles on the surfaces.

It is a dense silence.
It fills the air
like a thickness or a fluid,
careful not to get noticed.

There was a light
and a blow.
Silent.

Now there is dust,
settling on the sufaces.
And the silence.

26

When did you stop believing?
Mr Bunny is still waiting for the second cup
of imaginary tea.

You remember what flavour he wants.
The sweet flavour of strawberrys and mommys perfume.
Imported from Shangri La.

Brought to your childhoods garden
on mighty galleons of bark.

When did the world shrink?
To be fitted into what you could explain.
To be only what you could see before you.

When will you sit down on the grass again
stare up towards the heavens,
and see animals and heroes in the clouds?

Perhaps never.
But a part of you will always want to.

25

24

It's deafening,
loud beyond comprehension.

Like a thunder,
that doesn't bother to use your ears.

Cracking bangs.
Rolling waves of sound against you.

The sky has ripped apart.
The ground swallowed itself whole.
This is it.
The end.

23

That redbricked building.
Still standing there like a tombstone.
A reminder of the long dead childhood.

Large windows.
Black and empty in the night.
Schoolclock now standing still in eternal recess.

It's hauntingly empty.
Like it has no soul any longer.
A schoolhouse has no purpose at night.

The angles of the big red house,
now seem different.
In the moonlight,
and seen through a grownups eyes.

22

The world keeps turning.
Planetwise around the sun,
the center of our solarsystem.

In reality,
the world,
if you see it from my point of view...

It turns around me.
It turns around you.
It turns around the man on the corner smoking his cigarette.

All these worlds in a world.
All these realities as true as each other
coexisting in chaos and harmony.

Wonderful.
Magic.

21

Whispers in the attic.
Like little gusts of air through the cracks
in the ceiling.

Creaking noices from above.
Something moving.
Something light.
We have nothing up there have we?

Ladder down.
Squeaking against the floorboards
as we ascend into the dusty cramped space.
Nothing up there.
Nothing at all.

20

Fallen deeply, I am.
I did not try to get a grip.
I enjoyed the ride.

A ride that is far from over.
Falling... Strange word for it.
Feels like rising,
waking up.

Days brighter,
burdens lighter.

This is only an interpretation of the world
in a greater state of mind.

Doesn't make it any less true.

19

So heavy,
my eyelids are.

My steps,
stumbling.

I am so tired.
Hard of hearing.
Blurry vision.

Soon will come the light of day,
waking me up with assistance of coffee.

18

In fallen empires,
where forgotten heroes dwell.

Green fields,
hiding the scars of long gone wars.

Ruins of mighty castles,
where kings and queens once ruled.

These places of legend,
that never will be told.
Lost whispers of fairytales play in the wind.

17

I´m down on the floor,
begging for mercy.

The chilly hard surface of the silencer,
pressed against my forehead.

There is a coldness in his eyes,
his lips tightened and white.

As I close my eyes,
tears on my cheeks and on the carpet below me.
The icy hollow cylinder is gone.
And so is the killer.

16

Cry, cry, cry!
Like it's the last time you'll ever be sad.

Scream, scream, scream!
Like it's the last time you'll ever be mad.

Laugh, laugh, laugh!
Like it's the last time you'll ever be glad.

The past is a memory
The future, illusion
The now is the only time that you ever had.

15

Wind in her hair.
Making it seem alive, wild, furious.

The red and the gold,
tugged by the wind,
where she stands,
dressed in green.

Big boots on her feet.
Great joy in her eyes.
A scarf her mother gave her.

14

Light up some candles.
Whistle some tunes.

Draw circles with crayons,
and fill them with runes.

Call forth the Devil,
Maybe he'll play.

But tunes, circles,
runes and light.
Better be right or the Devil will stay.

13

Drugged up drama queen.
Pageantwinning smile,
hiding the hellstorm inside.

Glazed eyes.
Eyelashes batting like a psycho butterfly.

Fingers fidgeting.
Picking the crownleaves of her bouquet.

Residues of the angeldust
like sparkles on top of her chapsticked lips.
Poison kisses,
framed by the thin trickle of blood,
from a perfect nostril.

12

Stargazer, Farseer,
lend me your eye.
And I will see everything
through a bottle of rye.

Truthsayer, Mindspeaker,
lend me your tongue.
And I will sing all the songs
that never were sung.

Dog, Mother, Father, Child,
See in your dreams.
You're all running wild.

11

Pablo. What do you see?

10

He awaits.
Crossing his arms, tapping his foot.
He´s patient, for now.

His dark and dusty cloak
Woven with darkness as cloth.
Scythe rested against the wall.

The hiss of the hourglass
can be heard beneath the tapping foot.

Not evil not good.
Just waiting for the inevitable.
Then he will be there.

9

The floor quickly disappears
from under your feet.
And you fall.

Tumbling down for seconds.
Yet you have time to recall
all the things that you love.

Glimpses of truth
of lies and illusions
that was your life.

Whatever it was.
Before that ground up ahead hits you.
It was yours.

8

Little princess tamed the dragon that had held her captive.
Giddyup you foul beast.
We will be late for my teaparty.

7

The Sandman cometh.
Mighty and yet a shadow.

Pulling me and biting with blunt teeth.
Go to sleep.

Blow out your flickering candles.
Lock your front door.

I slip into bed.
Lie in my loves sweet embrace.
And then I let the Sandman strike me.

6

It was so surreal,
the way she looked at me.

I felt like i had a halo of some kind.
A very egotistic sensation.

The colors seemed a little brighter,
following her gaze.

I felt larger than myself.
Tingling as I saw myself as she saw me.
Wanting to be seen that way, always.

5

I am waiting.
Counting on my fingers though the minutes slip between them.
Snowflakes are falling timeless to the ground.

Distant sounds fading in the dark.
Moonlight piercing through chimneys smoke.

In the black chair,
my love is awaiting my arrival.

Time is slower in wintertime.
Seconds and minutes are frosen in the snow.

4

What now?
Did the paint-by-numbers
present itself, with a digit that didn´t exist?

Nobody´s forcing you to
go over and over the list.

You don´t have to sit crying
in the bathroom with razor to wrist.

Accept that you don´t know how it ends
and live life and wait for the twist.

3

The feeling it froze,
and could be used as a weapon.

An icetap of raw emotion.
Swung like a mallet or a bat.

In its wake could be seen
holloweyed people with frenzied smiles.

The wielder of uncompromising joy,
forcing her happiness on nonbelievers,
wasn´t smiling at all.

2

Grumpy old man,
crooked eyed gambler.

Marks on your skin.
Hard life and harlots.
I see you still smile.

Rambling on about nothing.
Nothing takes a lot of time to tell.

Hunched over oldtimer,
talking to me.

1

As we embark on this journey you and me,
think not of yesterday. Think not of tomorrow.

Those fond memories.
Them miseries we cried over...

They are not now.
Now is the moment after the countdown
and we fill ourselves with anticipation.

Without tomorrows and yesterdays in mind,
let us hope.