IRC-Galleria

Now I realize that life goes on
Even though you're not here with me
I wake up looking forward to another day
A day of living without you

One hand on this wily comet,
Take a drink just to give me some weight,
Some uber-man I'd make,
I'm barely a vapor

They shone a chlorine light on,
A host of individual sins,
Let's carve my aging face off,
Fetch us a knife,
Start with my eyes,
Down so the lines,
Form a grimacing smile,

Close your eyes to corral a virtue,
Is this fooling anyone else?
Never worked so long and hard,
To cement a failure,

We can blow on our thumbs and posture,
But the lonely is such delicate things,
The wind from a wasp could blow them,
Into the sea,
With stones on their feet,
Lost to the light and the loving we need,

Still to come,
The worst part and you know it,
There is a numbness,
In your heart and it's growing,

With burnt sage and a forest of bygones,
I click my heels,
Get the devils in line,
A list of things I could lay the blame on,
Might give me a way out,

But with each turn,
It's this front and center,
Like a dot stuck square in your eye,
Every post you can hitch your faith on,
Is a pie in the sky,
Chock full of lies,
A tool we devise,
To make sinking stones fly,

And still to come,
The worst part and you know it,
There is a numbness,
In your heart and it's growing.

Pekka Pesukarhu kaasuissaan
talon takana asustaa
kolkossa kolossaan

Äiti taikoo taikataikinaa
kekkerit kestit kehittää

Saapuu Saku Sammakko oluineen
humalassa huitoo koipineen

Lääkekuuri juuri aluillaan
Juhla suuri siis juhlitaan

kuin bongihitti konsanaan
hoooceepartystyge pärähtää
ja koko maa tärähtää

Nyt Pekka tamppaa tahallaan
heinäsirkat murskaa vaan
Tamtamtamtamtamtamtam

Sammakko öyssyttäää
Julmaaa elämäääÅÅÅÄäääääÅÄÅåååååååååååååååååååå

Pekka kaivoon sattui sammumaan
Hullut huvit hukkumaaan

Nyt kaikilllllla hajjoooooooooo PÅÄÄÄÅåååååååååå

he comes out at 7:30 a.m. every day
with 3 peanut butter sandwiches, and
there's one can of beer
which he floats in the baitbucket.
he fishes for hours with a small trout pole
three-quarters of the way down the pier.
he's 75 years old and the sun doesn't tan him,
and no matter how hot it gets
the brown and green lumberjack stays on.
he catches starfish, baby sharks, and mackerel;
he catches them by the dozen,
speaks to nobody.
sometime during the day
he drinks his can of beer.
at 6 p.m. he gathers his gear and his catch
walks down the pier
across several streets
where he enters a small Santa Monica apartment
goes to the bedroom and opens the evening paper
as his wife throws the starfish, the sharks, the mackerel
into the garbage

he lights his pipe
and waits for dinner.

Man lives like the unhappy
whore on River Street who
in her Eternity gets only

a couple of bucks and a lot
of snide remarks in return
for seeking physical love

the best way she knows how,
never really heard of a glad
job or joyous marriage or

a difference in the heart :
or thinks it isn't for her,
which is her worst misery.

ajat on kovat

ja niin koitti jälleen aika, jolloin myös kovimmat kuosi-karit painuivat takaisin maille, joissa ovet aukeavat ja el tiempo-virtaa. siili käsitteli kolostaan käsin tämän päivän sessioita ja totesi elämän jatkavan raiteillaan imutellessaan samalla raikkaat savut karstaa snagastaan ja niin vauhti kasvoi hemulin pedari-retkillä hai hai munkkeja peliin tere

joq kalju tullimies kouri mun kasseja tere

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then looking upwards
i strain my eyes and try
to tell the difference between shooting stars and satellites
from the passenger seat as you are driving me home.

"do they collide?"
i ask and you smile.
with my feet on the dash
the world doesn't matter.