The run aournd

Some place where the sun is but a yellow ball in the sky

And no sound echoes in the rivers of night

Animals walk without fear in their heart,

shades of colors feast for the eyes

When those who stare can only see the run around

Places as far and wide as the universe spins

to edges of the mind where only the children can sing

Far into the land of mist they travel

in a water basket of musty old bagles

Where those who care only find the run around

In a gentle grasp of a wave gone wrong

the chalice of gold is now lost yet found

nothing good from darkness can come

but still it is near ever to be bound

And those who can feel find the run around

Note: A little poem that came from nowhere, settled in my mind and left to be here…


The face of death

If you will ever forgive me, the whirlwind would stop

A strange likeness to the window we stare out of

Smell of a carcass sweet will be,

When the world would cycle in dust beneath a black sea,

An evil and a baby, a never ending of something he said to me

A layer of death rot’s the living

Prey for the dying shocking the creation we were building

As the baby child continues laughing…



Forever I would like for you to stay

Forever it would be that way

Above the city a small cloud

Above the sun he turned black

From the strings of time all has to end

In another time, the time would change

You yourself would change, carrying us

If only we had more time, it would be ok

Where all the stars fall from the sky

It’s no use for us to start to cry

The time moved against with no why

Water washed it away and again there is nothing left to say


The way

The road was broken so he fell

When it was fixed he couldn’t tell

So when time came he fell again

He waited for days in the rain

Waiting, watching till someone else came

Then imitating him he crossed, the end the same

No answer was there, why couldn’t her carry on?

The road was with no hole, it was he and he alone

The answer finally came to him in a dream

He walked the road not looking the way it seemed

When he reached the end, he couldn’t stop he was stuck

There was no end for him; he simply walked through the rock

So till the end, forever he will be stuck.


File cabinet

Arranging from A to Z

The order is not enough for me

Another opens,

The contents flowing over

A new system takeover

Enough can’t be sober

Files are always in disorder

Going over my own cup

Keep calm until the job is done.


This poem was inspired by a sonata arctica song called blank file

Life within angles


I. Strength of emotion

Regarding total devotion

Mistakes of upbringing

Always reacting upon living


II. Box surrounding us

A pill taken from its shelter

Medicine for the fuss

Buried in the cellar


III.    Stars shinning on a small campfire

A game of some kind on a wire

The star lights on a fire

The big stares with desire


IV.    The lover body is formed

It’s cold and crude

The upper than the head

All finished, prepared

The snowman is born


V.     Slipping in the world

There is no ledge

The hero comes to a halt

Soaring with a carriage


VI.    Tasteless liquid

Spinning in a regular process

Alcoholic liquid

Falling, broken, Time for a recess


VII.  Trying, questioning

Different reaction, laughing

Somewhere a problem

Someone is here it all is calm

Remark: All of these are different aspects of life in general, with a connecting melody.



Kids running, bell ringing, people walking,

Noise louder, feeling Disorder!

People dying, children crying, life falling, a child calling.

Cloth on the floor, someone opens the door, clean the room,

Listen to the boom. Where to begin? Life feels very thin.

Door opens, too many clothes, who interrupts? Who dares love?

Who cares? Big hug, feeling smug, we are a step further.

Who cares about disorder?!

Written back in 07/05/2003,