Leaving Kristiania

and so with our
back to the stars
we bid
farewell and revel
in glories long gone

and to the sound of
ticking clocks
and our childishreveries
we bow
in graceful lament

this scent of raisins
everywhere
brings back
the sickness in me

and I have nothing to say
to your beautiful
starlit eyes
for the sea
will be rising soon
and no more will
these salt-stained ropes
keep us in port

silently shivering
I turn away from your gaze
and I search for words
the wind is howling
stronger and
in a way
we are all
leaving Kristiania

Into starlight.

Merry Christmas, what else?

to everyone
a Merry Christmas
or fucking happy holidays
if that suits your
politically correct views
best

nevertheless I hope
you all have a fine time
with crackling fireplaces
and steaming pieces
of roast
followed by that special
granny licquor
over beautiful tables

and I hope your eyes
glow with delight
by candlelight
as you're surrounded
by wrapping paper
and smiles of loved ones

may your evenings be filled
with warmth and comfort
and gifts that keep you
happy
well into the new year

and while you're at it
do remember that
it's not what it's all about

Into twilight.

Let the bells ring

I long for
redemption
somewhere under
these cobblestones
a sigh
a whisper
a madness
growing sweetly
under this
sky

a flame held out
stretching thin
in this air
and your words
marking the breeze

gently I stir
and I think of the
tender loins of freedom
as the ocean
fills my gaze
and its salty spray
is all I crave for

Into starlight.

In Memoriam

John Lennon

October 9, 1940 - December 8, 1980

Into twilight.

The great music of the centuries

"There´s nothing to mourn about death any more than there is to mourn about the growing of a flower. What is terrible is not death but the lives people live or don´t live up until their death. They don´t honor their own lives, they piss on their lives. They shit them away. Dumb fuckers. They concentrate too much on fucking, movies, money, family, fucking. Their minds are full of cotton. They swallow God without thinking, they swallow country without thinking. Soon they forget how to think, they let others think for them. Their brains are stuffed with cotton. They look ugly, they talk ugly, they walk ugly. Play them the great music of the centuries and they can´t hear it. Most people´s deaths are a sham. There´s nothing left to die."

- Charles Bukowski

Into twilight.