Friday, February 18, 2011

Happy Birthday Olja!

To you Olja.
My dear Sister:
May every birthday be better than the last.


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Put all the stars back in the night sky.
Raise the sun from its resting place,
And call the moon to see its lover,
Eternally seperated, by time and space.

Call upon the mountains to kneel,
Halt all the rivers and brooks.
And Order the ocean to stop,
its rapid current to now seal.

May the wind stop its sonorous yelps,
And may the air lay steady at this hour
May all blossoms not fall to the ground,
And may the honey never again be sour.

May the trees lay in trepid wake.
May the birds stand ceremoniously of withered branches.

Call upon the gods from the sky,
The mountains.
Or wherever they may lie.

Let Zeus kneel and hand you his intrepid wit;
His lightening bolt,
Let Aphrodite offer you here beauty,
Upon which all shall halt.

Let Hera happily surrender her cunning,
Her intelligence and wit,
Let Athena,
Bath you in her loyalty and grit.

May the Angels sing their hymns in your name.
Those sonorous calamities with rhythm so beautiful.
And may Dionysus himself with self-possessed ecstacy,
Dance to the rhythm of your life;
Lamenting, enviously glaring at his maneads in strife.

Let all the lions know to keep silent,
No roar to be heard,
All prided muted.
And let all the eagles know where to circle
Upon which sacred ground you have once passed.

Allow all beauty to rise from the dark corners of the globe.
And Melody to flow through every enchanted grove,
Allow Divinity to sweep the streets clean,
Of evil, melancholy, and anything inbetween.

For you, my darling,
This world shall rise to its feet,
And those of great honour,
kneel at your majestic seat.

Time shall stop,
Clocks shall not tick a second forth,
And all will stop stare,
As it is your day of birth.

Happy birthday Olja!

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Remember That Wishing-Bone?

For those that have been forced out of familiar territory.
May it be a home,
An idea,
A life.

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I will not tread upon that soil, that soil over yonder,
That you now call your own.
I will not shed a tear on that soil, that soil over yonder,
That you now made your own.

Nor will what I spawn ever walk the valleys,
Or climb the trepid cliffs,
Dig their hands into the dirt,
And spread their little finger tips.

Nor will the sun rise on my cool roof once more,
Over yonder,
That you have now made your own.

I will not, ever once more,
Feel that familiar zephyr through my linen shirt,
I will not! ever once more,
Consider a compunctious act for those friends I once hurt.

Those friends no longer linger on that corner over yonder,
That you now have made your own.
Nor do they now ponder,
Of what you have done to their home.

Friends which now lay deep in soil,
Because of your malice!
Your selfish turmoil!

I will never now, walk the boulevard of memories,
Over yonder,
That you now call your own.
That boulevard that we together,
Lay brick by brick,
The one with the buried wishing-bone.

Nor will i blissfully dream of a return,
A Future; For which i eternally yearn.
Nor will i feel love; happiness; joy and passion,
For anything new that you and your friends may fashion.

I will not -
as much as my heart aches me so -
In that abode over yonder;
Love. Laugh. Cry!
Now long desolate,
Bodiless and devoid of a love once so familiar to its whitewashed walls.

I will not be able to share mutual aspirations with my children.
Nor will they ever delve into the deep blue forest I once loved.

I will not!
They will not,
Love that soil,
That soil over yonder,
That you now declare your own.

My Home.
My Backbone!
My Life,
Which you now call your own.

Friday, January 14, 2011

Forgotten Friends

I just wrote this. Took me some ten minutes; the usual.
So it should be read with the same critical eye as any of the rest.

Hope this stir some emotions.
Hope this can create a pandemonium between old friendships.
Hope this sparks a passion long forgotten.

Hope this reminds those of friendships long adandoned.

Do not let the present friendships rust in the trepid weather of time.
Do not let the present friendships rust in the trepid weather of lethargy.

Hope you guys enjoy it. :)


Poem to a Vanished Friend

On which corner of the globe are you now, dear man?
What kind of life do you lead in this wild world?
One of secrecy maybe?
Of adventure?
Or of nocturne?
Do the southerly winds still sweep those waves of hair off your face?
And are you still battling the same inner pain that has maliciously, incessantly, lasciviously denied you entry to serenity?

Do you dwell on lives long lived?
Do you wonder paths long walked?
Do you gather friends long lost?

What is it, my dear man, that attacks at your viscerals?
What is it, my dear man, that makes your heart ache now?
What hides, my dear man, beneathe those elusive eyes?

Which road did you take
Towards the goal we all strive for?
Which turn did you make,
that time we parted?

Was it the wrong turn, my dear friend?
Were the nights long and heavy?
Were the roads deep and unsteady?
Were the voices in the forests vulgar?
Were the voices of past around to bother?

Why did our parting contain no Fervour?
no Passion?
no Ardour?
no Compassion?

no Love?
no Hate?
no white-fucking-dove?
no 'goodbye mate'?

However now,
I hope your heart beats steady
and your stride unfaltered,
I hope your brain reigns strong
and your eyes never melancholy,
I hope the horizon is at your feet.
I hope the sun greets you while you are at your seat.
I hope your heart is full of desire;
Not reminiscing about a dissappearing fire.

My dear friend.
My long lost friend.
I hope your flame burns bright still,
While you hold your flag;
waving proudly on tha hill.

May no evil harm you,
And may no good look past your light.
May no harm reach your doorstep,
And may every virtue come voraciously knocking.

May whichever ground you lay your foundations,
Provide furtile soil upon which you shall foster.
And may wherever you may be,
One day,
Become visible to me.

This is for you, my dear friend.
My lost friend.
This one is for the love we shared.
And with what endless passion we cared.

This one is for you.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011


Something for all of you.

Something that might bring solace to empty hearts.
Something that might bring inspiration to others.

Hopefully no negativity is fostered by this, this that I wrote.

A Chantation for Those in Need

This one is to those that once were. That once were, how we all once remember - weightless and carefree. This one is to those in dark corners, in places of perdition, in rooms in need of solace. This one is for the wondering souls of earthly purgatory; of replaced lovers on corner benches - to those whos love is long forgotten and seldom told.

What may they be thinking of? Which corners of the globe may they return to for the yearning of nostalgia? What horrors pervade into their conscious states? What daemons do they account for as paramount to their ebb. May it be the neverending endeavour for constant affection? Maybe. Maybe the long forced need for a counterbalance? Maybe.

May they find there way in the darkest of places. May this declaration, this eulogy, beam light in the most desolate of passages. Walls also, may they be luminous and wise - leading the way to salvation. May this, this chantation, lead those that wonder towards happiness. Towards hope.

May hope persist through evil and unjust good. For what is unjust good, but evil in a sunday hat? What horrors can be performed by such atrotious, malicious, pernicious deed? For those that move across precarious ground, may this lyrical prose provide you with support. May it place golden wings on your shoulders, and a halo above your benevolent head. May not the sword of Damacles hang above your dear figure. My darlings, may all the evil of this world look upon you in reverance. May they falter upon their clandestine acts of spite. May all the world turn from your effulgent glare. My darlings, my never yielding darlings.

This one is for you. For how you were. For how we all once were.