You were standing in front of the crowd
Wearing the color of purity
White as the cotton and clouds
Clean as your intentions on me.

I walked slowly towards your way
Wearing the color of romance
Red as the rose and fire
To make your cold spirit warm.

As our bodies embraced one another
Two hearts made a distinct harmony
Even the great Bach won't understand
Love is really unexplainable
It is maybe the eyes to hear
Or perhaps ears to see.

krstjn (life exp.)

Time can never stay
The ticking of the clock
Takes timely stock
Of the days that roll to years
And of what occurs
And of what stays or disappears.
Twixt the angle of paradigm
That sweeps through ticking time.
When old friends meet
Time is the healing retreat.
Slipping into different zones,
Completely oblivious of cell-phones!
And the time that is the present-now
Seems too short; somehow
For a grander celebration -
And a fuller exchange of conversation.
But grateful, still for the exchanges between
The now and when we were fifteen.

when you comes
the sun appears
the warm takes place
the cold vanishes
the world becomes at party
evryone gets happy
and my times seem funny
i feel as the time moves
in speed waves and waves
as i forget to remark
what awful does it take?
it takes important thing
that you will talk
meet or see you again

Our unfamiliar encounter
At the corner of the street
Clueless
stillness in gaze

This is where we first met
I remember
Stars overhead tangled
Like fate

Loving you was like I jumped on a train at the last second; the doors sliding behind me and I almost missed it, the carriage that held you. As I took a seat I noticed you there, sat reading a book, holding a sweet smile across rose tinted cheeks, the glasses you wear hanging tightly atop your nose. I never want to leave. I stop, start staring like an idiot and its obvious how I feel, but you haven’t noticed my existence. The book is written by someone who stole your heart and even though I hope you finish it before my stop I know you can’t. I just wish you’d have looked up. Just once, at me. I wish you’d have seen what I’d seen looking at you one last time as I stepped off the carriage and onto a platform that lead somewhere you would never know. Somewhere we would never be.

To him, the city is a bustling empire
Of which, at night, she becomes the umpire
Rather than believing she acted out on her dreams
His heart on his sleeve, concealed in fine blue seams.

She knocked on her door. He appears in the frame
His scent intoxicating, she greets him politely
In his tight embrace, she is no longer the same
Stepping into a world where he is hers truly.

She seeks his eyes, he claims her mouth
Above them dangles a lantern and a moth
That can’t take its eyes off them yet struggles
In its bulky body, that their laughter can’t muffle.

Trapped in their desire they undergo the wave
Spindrifts of two bright souls that love attempts to save
The moth can’t take the heat of their burning hearths
Language traces the unfathomable story of their hearts.

Through speech and touch they exchange many an innuendo
They shape the shadows of the city with a fingertip
Sisyphus is the idol they both seem to worship
When they part, for they must, they mutter: “A presto!”


ENSSIB, Lyon
October 5, 2018
For M and A

two leaders once met in Helsinki
for talks that looked somewhat *****
as it turns out
                still nobody knows
what they were talking about
and that indeed smells rather stinky