Lighthouse

"What kind of a guy takes a job keeping a lighthouse?"

Working Man

Scoop out portions of my stomach

My head melts into poisonous rains,

Throwing my hands in the dark

to catch the last bit of my remains.

In the run, out in the wild

its a new and happy forgetfulness.

This is the moment, this is your chance

shout, cry, sing and dance.

A picture, smell or a song will ignite

lost days of youthful fright

Count, list, work and smile

for life will start again and will last a while

Toys

Same moon back home darkness burries deep
A hundred toys to loose one toy to keep

Time

wonder if things break, in the time they are weak
wonder if you pass that moment, will it all be lost
somewhere dark and deep ?

Pretend you never existed before today
days, shame, the longing you will hide

you look back never to look back again
since now you got to the other side

an aeon of struggle, belief and pain
but from the other side, it all seems in vain.

Self Love

So many stories floating in air
days are lost but nights are clear

do you love what you do ?
take every opportunity that comes to you
friends are getting lost and world is getting bigger
so when do you think you will be almost there


I would love to think its all infinite
do the things never been done before
I will probably discover something someday
but lets for a moment think of today

all that is ego and it doesn't matter
beans will spill and mirrors will shatter
you are almost always right
but, one thing baby, you always miscue
I love myself but I love you

55 words

He didn't notice the colors of fall
he never looked up when he walked
her words spilled, over his thoughts
numb from the cold, numb from her laughs

Said she missed him,
woke him up when it got dark
street light hurts and the cold wind tears
just like she said, the summer ends here

Rumba

S: For a moment I thot she looked at me. While dancing on the stage she found me in that huge crowd. Happy illusion..
...but lets keep it my way.

H: ....and the screaching sound of metal guitar was driving me mad. So mad that I wanted to close my eyes and swing
my head. I wish I was there alone.

S: You said it as if you were in the middle of a story. I don't understand you too well..wish I did. Anyways, did you
notice that each muscle on her legs and arms twisted like they had a mind of their own. They created their own music.
She was not herself then. She tranformed into this bundle of movements. I don't remember any theme in that dance. It
was random sequence of shapes reminiscent of nothing.

H: ....Sometimes it doesn't have an origin. Never ends itself. Just dissapears. but still is beautiful. Things can be
that way I guess. We just don't acknowledge something we are unable to relate to what we have already seen. I think I
should give up the guilt of not being able to define a pattern in things I like.