Barátta bulls

Þrautir fá þróast
þrúgandi og illa lýjandi.
Þó skuldin sé aðeins skán
    og svo smá
við hlið hinnar dökku myndar
  - þeirrar djöfulssindar -
sem talin er heilagri
en þrenningin forgefna.

Það er sú óútskýranlega
árátta áfallasýktra sála,
sem sér fyrirhöfn til forar
         fimlega fynna
til að ráða ráðum sinna ráða.
Það eitt fer augljóslega
         ekki á milli mála.

Því þegar ráðið fæst úr raunum
   - þá ranglega heiftin stjórnar
     hugum, og upphefur
andstyggilega andhverfu
     heilinda hins innra.
     Svoleiðis,
þau sem talin voru upp
     til björgunar
og drengskapar dugnaðar.

En meinsemdir fylgja
meðvirkni mannlegra hvata
sem svo sjúklegar sýna
sitt sanna "sataníska-"sjálf
í sjúklegum tilraunum til ásta.
           Mæða sú, ærin og meiriháttar
           heftir mestan bata.

Því þannig vill til,
svo skemmtilega
á skondinn hátt
og skringilegan,
að það telst ekki
sjálfgefið
að allt gefið
fáist gefið til baka.

Því er ekki stoltið
stirt til svörunnar
ef svara skal svari
til saka?
            - Jú, stoltið er stórlega
              gefið stórkostlegum
              stirðleika ef í sakir
              ratar óhóflega...
                                                               -Amen!

Röng er ræktun haturs

Ræktun haturs röng er mjög, í raun er ekkert verra. Að hefta hamingjunnar lög, heimska er, minn herra.

Sátt

Runnin er af mér reiðin og ræðst ég því til úrbóta. Nöktum kennir vízt neyðin, neikvæðnin fær því að fljóta.

Morgunbæn morblesans

Ásamt óstropuðum degi, rís ég reiðubúinn. Með vott af varma veraldarinnar, leiðumst við í lífið. Órofin; óskilgreind. Óaðfinnanleg orka.

Epesodii dhabarashka bambuhuska - eða - Svartur morgunn, og sykurlaus

Kaffi! Minn kærkomni máti, ég klappa fyrir þér. Ef geð mitt er svo nærri gráti, þá gleði þú færir mér.   Hvort um aftan eða ár alltaf ertu sjálfsagt mál. Eptir nokkur þín unaðstár, upphafin er mín littla sál.

Háttatími

Inn í nóttina nú ég líð,
orðinn er ég þreyttur.
Að vakna hress ég eptir bíð,
allur betri’og breyttur.

Ævi mín mun ekki löng

Ævi mín mun ekki löng, margur er mér eldri. Þykir mér þó tíðin röng, þrungin haturs eldi.

Dróminn

Dapur - á mig sækir drómi,
dauða hann líkist í raun.
Nú allur er minn eiginn sómi
ekkert fæ ég að laun.

Ég

Ráðum hef ég rúna fylgt
og ráðið bragahætti.
Sævi hugans djarfur siglt
og sorfið ýmsa þætti.

Konung himins hef ég kynnst,
keppt með honum kaldur.
Kannað yst og kafað innst
í kærleikans þrungna galdur.

Drukkið hef ég volgan dreyra,
og Draupnis litið hringa.
Mar hef sopið heldur meira,
úr horni Þórs, óþvingað.

Kanntu skilið hver ég er?
Kannastu við mitt lag?
Í sitthvoru lagi telst ég sér,
svo svaraðu mér í dag.

Andardráttur minn er eldfimur

Andardráttur minn er eldfimur,

innbyrgt hef ég nú of mikið eitur.

Og nú kominn er að

þessum hrörlega stað

þar sem rónarnir setjast glatt að.

Í sjálfsvorkun veltist ég um.

Eitrið bragðgóða klára ég úr dósunum.

Þótt ég viti það vel

það geri útaf mitt þel,

þá enn meira ég lep úr þess skel.

En ég kann eigi á því nein skil

hvers vegna í sopann ég leita svo vil.

Hann bara gerir mér gott,

galdrar allt ljótt í flott

og gerir ósýnilegt mikilsmanns stollt.

---

Máninn á mig töfrandi lýsir

með glitrandi geislum, svo mig nú fýsir

að fá mér einn meiri bjór,

er ‘ekki orðinn nógu sljór

svo ég keyri mig sjálfan í kór.

Ég sýp og sýp en ekkert ég græði.

Sé nú í gegnum þess alls kosta gæði.

Það bara hefur viss tök,

hugsunin verður slök

en um leið verður dómgreindin lök.

Ég verð nú að gefa því gaum,

þeim sjálfgefna mannlega draum.

Að sjá svart á hvítt

eitthvað gamalt sem nýtt,

og sjálfum mér geta þá hlítt

---

En allt er nú aftur á bak,

allt öfugt, samt sem tilbúið lak.

Þetta er einsog það er

og nú ég aleinn stend ber

aftan við hversdagsins her.

Svo, áfengi á ei við mig lengur

og aldrei í raun það hefur, minn drengur.

Heldur misskilið ég hef

þess tilgang, ég tel

 - en burt henda því ég tvístígandi vel…

For The Youth

I sat down to write this
for the ones of the youth

for I think it's my duty to
try to tell them the truth.

Of what the real world really is to,

there's so much disorder
but yet nothin to prove.

Some sense them, some don't

and some know they are there,

those makers of evil
witch we all do despair.

Those who bare nothing
of love or good deeds,

those who are fueled by hatred and greed.

Is their mission that obvious,
to put us aside

and lock as many up
forever to hide?

Oppress the free thinking 
and controll the press

and to brainwash the puplic
with their politic-chess?

I guess I'll never know
so I encourige you

to open your eyes,
try to seek out the truth.

With these final words
jolly wishes I send

to all who are trying
to see it throuh to the end.

Abigail

Your humour, enlightening and easy.

Keeps my heart from totally freezing.

Ivory white skin

and aroma of spring.

Your closeness is well gratifying.

Vivid your glow, soft and fair face.

You represent the meaning of grace.

You’re a flake of snow

and no evil you know.

Only love inside you grows.

Those ruby red lips and magical eyes.

With hair more brighter then white.

Your diamond like smile...

so like the Nazis said "Hail"!

I honour you sweet Abigail.

Calling God

Come meet me, please feed me

of your stories so true.

You know I’d been long gone
if it wasn't for you.

-                                  I’ll tell you this much of the world you live in:

            There’s no room for good, it’s so full of sin.

Come find me, please mind me

when I beg for Thee.

I feel all so reclusive,
I’ll never be free.

-                                  We've all been pre-punished for all of our crimes,

            that’s why I know how to handle hard times.

Come see me, please free me

from this terrible pain.

I don't have much left,
there’s no time to explain.

-                                  I've lived through my live maybe to blindly.

             So the one thing I know there ain't that much to see.

---

You know, when I wrote this I was as sober as hell.

You can’t find any other this whole story to tell.

I've been left here to die, I've been into deep.

While crossfiring sides my wisdom do weak.

To much ado

I never give, I mainly take.

I only give promises

which I mostly brake.

I sense a dreadful defeat
from wars that haven't started.

 - My conscience and wisdom have forever been parted. -

So feel the wrath of my tongue

along my melancholic voice.

Lets finish while we’re young,

now bring on the noise.

I see and you see - together we all see

true love getting lost at the bottom of the sea.

 

Long live Liberty!

I live all alone, I've never had a home.

I don’t own no clothes, I'm only skin and bones.

For all my live I've been completely on my own

and it’s now time to say goodbye and go.

          They put all their faults on me
          to save society.
          They put all their faults on me.
          Long live Liberty!

I feel so down and sad, true joy I've never had.

And I've tried to hide it by always acting glad.

Now I wish that I'd never played that game

‘cus now and forever will never be the same.

          They put all their faults on me
          to save society.
          They put all their faults on me.
          Long live Liberty!

Gone by so fast, this day will be my last.

And as I lay dying I think about the past.

So as I go I want the world to know:

Who you think's your friend is more likely to be foe.

I guess it’s just one of those days

I hate the moon and I hate the sun.

I hate the clouds, every single one.

I hate the cold and I hate the heat.

and I really hate the rain that falls on the street.

I hate the autumn and I hate the spring.

I hate the year and it’s stupid ring.

I hate the ground and I hate the sky.

Today I hate you all, but I don’t know why.

I’m Leaving

Try to wake but I fall asleep,

I’ve been here for way to long.

Lost my faith & believe,

think terrible thoughts

all about different odds.

Try to stay but then I go again,

it’s hard to leave, my love.

But strangest things seem so good,

even though many are bad

–worse things I’ve never had.

Far away the light begins to shine

and I float into the fog.

Reasons not given, nor explained,

I feel good but not for long.

When you get here, I’ll be gone.

It’s hard to see or even to feel,

forget my loss.

It’s hard to take, don't start to cry,

don’t make such a fuzz.

Just go back to sleep, I’ll be in your dreams

to bring you relief.

Now, it’s my time to go

& I want you to know

that it’s not bad at all.

Celebritism

Walking on the other side of nowhere

and waiting for my train to come

to take me far away from here.

I've spent all of my life to get here

but now I've changed my mind.

All I want is to go back home again.

One time isn't always "always",

but two times make it more

and the third time makes it one more day alone.

I left from all of my loved ones,

my family, friends and Jane

for this world and I regret it every day.

My train doesn't seem to be coming.

Well, this is all my own damn fault.

Guess I'm going to be stuck here for all my days.

One time isn't always "always",

but two times make it more,

and the third time makes it one more day alone.

Thought of thinking

If the day today was the day tomorrow,

would you join me in a walk of crime?

If the day tomorrow was a day of sorrow,

would you help me kill the time?

If the years to come are the years we've followed,

then will they still hold the same fences?

If those years to come will be as shallow,

then when will we come to our senses?

The heavenly queens stone

In so many ways I can't explain,

I've found peace, got rid of pain.

Everything is now and will forever,

always has been, yet also never.

          It's strange how we seem

          to be prearranged in shame,

          but who's to blame?

Heavenly blue as the clearest sky,

your blossom pours out from your eyes.

The kind that saves lives,

truly your optical doors.

          It's strange how we seem

          to be prearranged in shame,

          but who's to blame?

Blond hair and blue eyes,

I believe those are yours.

Your grace all around shines
without a word or even a move.

Writings through past times
from Gods creation and rules.

          It's strange how we seem

          to be prearranged in shame,

          but who's to blame?

Justice for your glory

and justice for your fate.

I know it's not our time

that's my reason to hate.