Were I only
nailed like him
who dained to
call himself
a king.

But no.
My woe is this
to suffer crushing,
and to die to dye.

Were I but called
the Murex King
and raised to godhood
just like him,
then were my worh complete.

But No.
My woe is this,
to die to dye
the emperors cloak
to croak for vanity
distraught and broke.

I was like water

I was like water
filling in the cracks,
evaporating quickly
as a film of moistness
touching all,
and getting asked;
Why aren't you watering
the crops?

But, said I, what will
the animals drink?
What dews the windows?
What rusts the fence?
Who makes the rushing sound
of the far away fall?

Not a film of moistness, sad he,
Let the dryness speak for itself.
Water the fields.

Imma embrace you

Imma embrace you
with eye
and hand
with brush caress
and kiss

Imma lift to air
your body light
to twirl in mind
the spirit bright

Then with steady hand
give shape to hip
to lip
and dip to dark
the whispy hairs

of that mountain
that I like
to climb

Ei jekt

Ei jekt på
et blinkanes hav
i år null.

I gromsat blått
går fortida ned
tel veldige juv
av gammel tid

Der svømme urtia
og sunkne skip
Der i ei råna
tentes livet

Og mæ i ei jekt
i mitt eget år
null

Fjellan av fremtid
rase imot mæ
og klatringa gjør æ
med tankan

Fra høye toppa
speide æ livet,
ser ei gammel hand
i mi

For du e jo der
mellom røslyng
og fjellbjørk
Barnebarn leke
på haugan.

Taps of pure delight

Your finger taps the screen with pure delight
I hear you laughing from the living room
I think you are engaged in virtual fight
or turning back the tides of withering doom
As to my struggles, you are blind,
your ears are filled with distant clangs of war,
which sacrifice, is paying me noe mind,
even as I leave, and shut the door.
Did you not notice where your true fight lay?
It was a against your own soul, every night,
where eyes were turned against the trapping screen.
Did you not notice my complete dismay,
as I wondered who of us were in the right?
As I wondered, what our unity had been?
 

A direct compliment

It always, well not always,
but lately,
occurred to me as crass to give
a direct compliment.

But, people seem to like it, so,
what do I know?

I would not insult you
by saying,
my tastes are even too refined
to tell you you are beautiful.
Implying, thereby, I think
that your taste
is inferior to mine.

But I would think it privately,
and be ashamed.

So here I stand,
ashamed,
to tell you,
you are beautiful.

I have seen death

I have seen death.
It's nothing,
it's an empty world
draining you,
spilling you.
Your soul diffused,
spread thin,
so thin
and turned away.

I turned away.
I looked god in the face;
he was playing on the floor,
unaware of godhood.

His soul diffuses out,
but does not empty.
The world is reflected
in his light.

It crushed into me,
shimmering like a lighthouse beam,
but I am not translucent.
Wherever I turn,
it will cast shadows,
within.

I'm handing you the keys

I'm handing you the keys
to the gate to the way of truth

Three times two they are,
and then their eye at last.

First these two, who and what,
I think you will find useful, 
in pointing at correctness.

The I'll give you how and why,
to give them life.

Thence when and where.
Now they are affixed.
Too affixed.

For how to search, if you can't
ask an if.

He had fastened

He had fastened,
he thought,
to himself.
To himself,
he thought,
he had fastened.

Supple bough,
was sapped,
and creaking joints
were poised to snap.

His mother
he recalled
had weaved
when he was small
flower patterned
vines and grapes,
intoxicating fruits
affixed by thread.

He laid his hand on life,
on patterns older than himself,
and thought;
"I am finished, weaved.
My thread runs low.
My knotted mind is spent,
and frayed.
Now let the weave bet cut,
my life's pattern finished, layed."

But yet he sat.
He thought,
I'm fastened.

What are you looking at?

What are you looking at?
What are you looking at?
Did you really think, 
you were looking at me?

No, what you are seeing is yourself,
painting before your eyes
the image of your friend.

How does he seem to you?
How do you seem to you?
Sometimes all is ugly,
all is grey,
and like that the word pour
from pen to form
a net.

A you. A me. A meyou. A youme.

What am I looking at?
What I am looking at?
Only myself, where you stand
like pillars of gold in the sun
like autumn birch
self luminescent in minds darkening,
to fall, to autumn, then the red
and gold of christmas.

Be good.

Be good. Be good. Be good. Be good.
Be good. Be good. Be good. Be good.
Be good. Be good. Be good. Be good. Be good.
Be good. Be good. Be good. Be good. Be good.
Be good. Be good. Be good. Be good. Be good.
Be good. Be good. Be good. Be good. Be good.
Be good. Be good. Be good. Be good. Be good.
Be good. Be good. Be good.

A fallen man, right there, in front of you.

There, right there,
in front of you,
a man has fallen,
down.

He is dying,
you can see it,
but, don't worry,
you can help him.
Just, lift him.
Go on, do it.
he'll be okay.

But maybe you won't do it,
because,
maybe he is too far away.
To far away to help
from death.

I think he is thirty meters away.
Would you do it?
No, maybe, maybe he is about
a kilometer away. But,
you can't walk that far.

In fact, you shouldn't help.
It is too inconvenient for you,
and besides, someone else can,
probably,
do it.

Oh, what was that? Aha, they
have other men to help. Well then,
got to be you, doesn't it?

Did I say a kilometer away?
I think he is actually ten miles away.
Now, you definitely shouldn't do it.
Too far, too far.
Just let him die.

I turn on the TV. There they are definitely dying.
A man has fallen, he is right in front of me,
and I can see it, he is dying.
But, he is more than 10 miles away,
I'm not going to bother.
You see, I'd have to send money,
With my computer you see,
I'd push those buttons, and then, I would send
a little money, to that man, or, someone like him,
I think, but, he's just so far away.

I mean, he is more than ten miles away. And, 
I wouldn't even walk that for, for myself.
It's just, no. No.
No, just let him die.
It's alright.