under the aparent darkness,
the nacar red of your lips
give me ligth.

between the tender and quiet
kisses of fire, you absorved
my darkness

there was no magic, it was
just that, two dark beings
absorving ligth.

a beast with a loewe head,
desolated, tormented, for
his pain.

between the lost and desdain,
and with desire sticked
to his skin.

the ligth in absolut darkness,
years looking that skin of silk,
those lips sweet as honney.

the silky and perfumated lips,
of a beautiful shadow, a lioness
in the dark.

and who will know, only darkness,
about that silk skin, that give ligth,
in a dark nigth.

a loewe, the lost descendant,
looking the way, and to that silk skin,
of honey gold and fire.

a lion lost in shadows, looking that
skin, that as divine grace, or gifth
of friendly gods.

found me, catch and love me
in the shadows, rigth before dawn,
giving life to the blackened heart.


and the flux of life, of strength,
to resist mi strokes, controling
herself tenderly.

never scared of my roarings,
only the beautiful fire, she give me,
with her nacar red lips.

her femmale lips, a beast, beautiful
with her skin of silk, perfumated and
HERMOSA,  A MUSE IN THE SHADOW.

tenderly resisting to the attacks of a
beast, thirsty of her, her ***, her blood, kissing
her skin inch by inch.

the HERMOSA shadow, with silk skin,
and nacar red lips, resist even thou, she
wanted to lay next to this beast

thirsty of her, her body, her etternal legs,
her *** of MUJER HERMOSA,
the beautiful and sweet lioness, that was mine
in absolut darkness..

The forever-stench of hoboken
The most composed... undress
Loosened to a senseless smirk
Keep walking...
The prettiest eyes droop to a cool low
Posture is hard to keep with them shots!
Keep walking...
Messaging another senseful planet the boring absurdity of now
Watch your step!
Her fine italian dinner is inches away
Or is it fine thai...
It's vulgarity kills any sense of definition
Uh oh... now there are more puddles!
Keep away from those leaking lakes
Of sushi... sashimi... heineken... absolut!
Absolutely acceptable in this town!
Come on! We're almost out of it
Out of the town we were once so happy to visit just a couple of hours ago
When everyone was efficient, and not venturing *****
When communication wasn't fogged, but clear and easy
When men didn't dress like 14 year old boys trying to score at a house party
And women didn't give away their IQ so easily, heads slightly bent forward with a lack of direction
Maybe it was home, maybe it was danger, maybe it was fun
The zombie within arose with a wretched stench of alcohol
Yet this will never stop selling
People are sold this "treasure" of acceptance, rank, a strong sense of esotericism, all lies
Yet in reality, they are simple facades, regular people like you and me.
O Hoboken, you stink

I have to shower soon, and every breath of wind
that brushes against my ***** skin
reminds me of everything
I hope they don't tell you about this morning.


I smell like sweat and *****,
and all I want is a redo.
I want "may I?" eyes.

and you feel the day slip away -

i lost my incredibly absolut day
to a wafer thin, cappuccino hued
boy who showed an infinity for
expressing his appreciation for
color and curiosity by outfitting
himself in raven blues and navy
blacks. and on his angular cheeks
and butterfly lashes, i caught the
honor of an absolut wink and a
flush of mischief. on the promise
of a full, absolute day, i felt my day
slip away as certain as his wingless
back held my eye and ducked down
a sunlit alley and i pulled my hoarsed
voice into whispering, "hello."

when I pour ***** **** on my wounds
so I can sleep in the pain
that burns a hole in my chest when I drain
away the **** with a side of *******;
it's as if I'm winning it all--but in the end
I've only lost myself in the fall;
from the finest of nights to the poorest of woes,
I'm throwing just for throws 'cause I've got nothing to hold
‘cept you when I'm gone, done escape from this world
to sounds of shot glasses shattering insane,
blood falling like rain;
"****, ****, I'm out--
I ain't playin' this game."

In too far, don't know how it'd begun;
Don't know the difference
between dying and fun, it's all the same--
There's lipstick smeared on my name, whiskey flaming
too bright ***** can't even put it out
so I shout, hoping you'll pull me out,
push me down, **** me out--
It's over, I'm done.

ABSOLUT 0!

the greedy trees
liked to bleed the green
to spite the leaves.
they seem to be
pretty pleased by
believing in a
definitive middle.
  
then **** soon
flew off the richter
cause it wasn't so simple,

1 to 3 easy.
          
when the police
beeped the gentry,
oil already leaked
on the scene
even though
hunting season
was ending.

&seeding; season
pleaded for
beginning
& forgiveness
for bearing false witness
to a new system called
self sufficience.


take one leave one
break one mean one
make one be one



of what.

I always feel my best with pulsing veins
of Absolut or Johnnie Walker neat,
or devil’s dust to take away my pain,
a thin syringe injecting hell’s deceit.
Though sorrow loses strength with needle sting
and moods arise with belts of liquid heat,
I know the tingling twitch will always bring
electric blood when morning comes to greet.
But still I struggle with the current’s craze,
euphoric numb that always plugs and sways
the battle in-between the nights and days,
the sunset hour with all its shades of grays
where all the choices made are surely wrong-
I wake at dusk and start my morning strong.

den mest afskyelige følelse nogensinde,
et vink, hvorfor,
hvordan kan man være så dum,
som mig

absolut den mest nedværdigende følelse nogensinde,
desperat,
jeg kan se det for mig,
dig der råber af ham i telefonen,
går direkte forbi mig,
dig der snakker med hende,
går direkte forbi mig,
jeg kan høre dine tanker,
desperat,
desperat,
desperat,

absolut den mest afskyelige nedværdigende følelse nogensinde,

oh how ignorant i must've been.
to think the best things in the world were
hot coffee and cigarettes,
drinking on the beach while fireworks went off.
the overwhelming sense of reality I'd get when
the wind would pull me out to sea
and waves would kiss my thighs.
these were the best things,
not but a week ago.
and now i know with nothing but
absolut conviction,
the best thing
in this world
is waking up to kisses
on my shoulders
from a man
i hardly know
yet i know is one of
us.

goodmorning, beautiful.

Machmal denke ich günstig für nicht sein,
Denn ich kann nicht zu viel sehr gut machen.
Ich bin zu klein, zu kurz, and nicht klug
Nicht friedlich genug, oder zu verrückt und komisch.
Meine Geschwister meinten das ich bin sehr ägerlich.
Aber meine Freunde hat etwas anderes sagen.
Sie denken ich bin nett and freundlich,
Lustig and vielleicht schon,
Und ein absolut Schlauberger.
Ich glaube sie fast nie,
Aber ich beginne zu sie glauben.

Sometimes I think I'm good for nothing
Because I cannot do too much well.
I am too small, too short, and not smart
Not peaceful enough or too crazy and weird.
My siblings think that I'm very annoying
But my friends have said something else.
They think I'm nice and friendly
Funny and maybe pretty
And an absolute smarty pants
I almost never believe them
But I am beginning to believe them.

it's too boring to be simply up to no good
vanilla skin and ashen lips, shaking hands
sly, slender nostrils that started drip wine again
convinced she's not a person without him

when she laughs that cool laugh
these straight lines that keep her
coiled and uncoiling again
she smells like absolut and lust, cheap perfume

I am dumb
with wonder, that I'm
not torn asunder, that my brain and body don't burst, under the
torment of the demon that lives in me.
He longs to be free, struggling clawing, scratching to be released, shrieking at me to write the words that reside inside.
I tried hard to drown him with ***** and Guinness Stout, but he learned to swim.

So once again, we toast the night alone by candlelight, as I read Sylvia Plath while he takes a bath in dark Irish beer. He knows that writing's fantastic, *******, electric, and we *** together as he whispers me sweet prose while doing the back float in a sea of Absolut.
I'm destitute, but he doesn't care, just as long as I share his seed that spills from my quill.
And so, I hear is shrill voice in the middle of the night, screaming, screeching, write *******,
write.

"Dalam segala manis dan tragisnya perkawinan,
Kami sebagai perempuan, mati berkali-kali
Dan lahir pula kembali—
Tentu juga berkali-kali

Disaat kau menyaksikan puluhan katup bibir yang mengatakan “Sah.”
Disaat itu pula,
Kau seakan disadarkan
Bahwa kau tak lebih dari pisau yang harus terus diasah

Bukan supaya tajam untuk dapat menikam,
Namun supaya siap mencacah manis-pahitnya peristiwa kehidupan menjadi dadu-dadu kecil
Lalu menanyakan untuk menyerapnya kembali
Untuk diri sendiri

Kau,
Mati dan lahir lagi,
Bukan sebagai isteri,
Namun seutuhnya sebagai wanita yang mengayomi
Sampai akhirnya kematian itu berdiri di depan pintu
Untuk menjemputmu lagi

Disaat kau duduk dan melihat pandangan puluhan manusia
Yang seakan-akan mengatakan,
“Berpandailah dengan urusan dapur.”
Mereka dengan bodohnya menutup mata kepada fakta

Bahwa sekarang, kau adalah busur
Yang dengan senantiasa akan mengarahkan kemana anak-anak panahmu melaju
Kau, bertulang rusuk dan adalah tulang rusuk
Bukan tulang rusuk dari lanangmu,
Namun dari rumah segala rumah

Disaat insan keci itu menangis lahir,
Disitulah Tuhan dengan segala kuasa-Nya menyemukakanmu
Dengan kelahiran yang absolut.
Mutlak. Nyata. Tanpa majas atau embel-embel.

Kau, bukan hanya wanita bersusu yang menyusui;
Walau serapanmu terhadap puji-kejinya kehidupan
Akan juga diserap oleh ‘anak panah’ mu
Melalui air susu dan tutur katamu

Disaat kau melahirkan anak manusia,
Tentunya tanpa tanda tanya,
Kau betul-betul
Lahir kembali."

Take this feeling from my gut, or give me a gun
Carbonated soda in the pit of your stomach
And candy cane lips I wanna **** on
Excuse me for being crass,
but all I want is your hands on my ***
Your nails are gonna dig a thousand stories into my skin
And I've never felt more alive
Singing the absolut lullaby

Halfway between past and future,
Life and death, singularity and universality,
The eye is looking through the clepsydra of time,
The Absolut,
- I am the only one twisting the strings of conflux,
The Eternal tells,
-All things from today and tomorrow already happened,
It is all in vain, don't even  bother,
There are even memories of
The worlds that haven't been born yet,

Tying to suspend time,
Why?
When the days and nights are unchanged
From the beginning of the world.

with every promise comes uncertainty,
and that's something i've never
been comfortable with so i'd
like to say, "i promise,"
and i'd like to say,

"forever," but you said, "fornever,"
and chased it down with
a shot of absolut plus
"and for always,"and then
i managed to convinced myself,

"i can handle tonight," and
you said, "i love you,"
so i said, "please, please...
take me down," and you
said, "how far?" so i...

showed you.

.
                                   absolute
                             power corrupts
                          absolutely absolute
                          power corrupts abs
                         solutely absolute  po
                          wer  corrupts   absol
                             utely  absolute  p
                             owe corrupts  ab
                             solutely absolute
                             power corrupts a
                             bsolutely absolut
                             ely absolute  pow
                             er corrupts absol
                             utely absolute po
                             were corrupts ab
                             solutely  absolute
                             power corrupt ab
                             solutely  absolute
                             p o w e r corrupts
              absolutely ab         solute power
         corrupts abeolute  ly absolute power
          absolute power      corrupts absolute
            ly absolute po         wer corrupt s
               absolute                      power

****,
om jeg ikke glemte mine nøgler
oveni mit mint tyggegummi
hjemme på mit skrivebord
****,
om jeg ikke savner stillestående søndage
trods jeg hellere vil ud og mærke nætternes kulde
der river i mit ansigt og pisker mit hår
****,
om jeg ikke har tabt mine smøger
og at mit hår er fedtet og klamt
og ****,
om jeg ikke har tabt mit hjerte til dig
midt i fuldskabens tåger
fordi jeg absolut blev grebet
da jeg behøvede det mest

Yes,
I have been drinking,
and none of that will make me forget
my legs around his waist.
were there hands on my ***?
I can't remember,
his hair's so long,
so soft,
when I pulled it and pushed him
against my body.
Oh, happy new year.
I can feel my eyes glow again
when I think about yours
No smile
No smirk
Just lips, against mine,
missing in intoxication.

Oh, the absolut lullaby.
Singing me to sleep.
You made my lip swell, honey.
I expect a goodnight kiss for that.




*"Tonight was fun and we still had our clothes on, so that's a lot on it's own."

Running outside under a quiet moon,
Moments stolen in a crowded room.

Gentle curves over table edges,
Absolut-ly visual perfection.

You long for a touch more intoxicating than everclear,
Because all you want is whoever is near.

Here's that recurring pattern again,
I guess its justice with how I've treated others all the way up to this year's end.
I probably deserve this,
I can be on my way,
Watching what could have been fade away,
So many things I will miss,
Never again be able to have one more first kiss.
But still there's so many things I wish I could say,
Maybe its just not my time,
Or the maybe the standards are too high,
Whatever the reason,
I guess tis the season.
Happy holidays, may your loved ones be merry,
I'll be here singing love songs with my sweetheart; Absolut Cherry.

i love you as absolute
as the sky is blue
who cares if there is absolut
running through my veins

i love you like a green grass field
and I love you like i don't know why;
its a good thing I'm not sober
or else these words would not spill so easily.

i love you like words are spoken
and music is listened;
i love you like a poem is written
and the picture is painted.

I love you with every breath
and I love you with every sigh;
you may upset me at times,
but i love you despite the sadness.

i love you when im angry;
i love you when im mad;
i love you when im happy;
and i love you when you cried.

you're a lovely creature and
you make me happy.

i love you when i don't;
because you're all i have left
to love and to hold
you're the only thing that matters.

you're my baby and my life.



xoxoxo.
*i love you.

bag tæppet af nostalgi ligger
fossende imitationslege og
mindreværdskomplekser i samme form som
selvretfærdighedens diktatur
akkumuleret støj som emalje over byen, barrieren mellem universet og os
gennem tæppet af nostalgi ser man
absolut  i n g e n t i n g
vi griner som om vi mener det
men ingen af os er hinandens første valg, dette er ingen frivillige løsning
sådan bliver andre mennesker ens sidste udvej
tilfældige mennesker
tilfældig ensomhed
bitterheden ætser ind i sjælen hvis den ophobes
ensomheden borer sig så dybt at den med tiden
erstatter ens skelet
så bygger og støtter hele ens tilstedeværelse på følelsen, der som
istapper i åbne arme den udstrakte hånd den opsøgende kommentar
modarbejder ens eksistens

du umulige kærlighed
snart glemt, men alligevel forevigt gemt
inde i min indre og ydre bevidsthed
du popper oftes op i mine tanker, de gange jeg foruroliget passerer;
destinationer, individer, genstande
dér minder mig om dig
jeg kæmper stadig med afvendelsen af gamle vaner
der gang på gang, har formået at sætte hele mit tankesystem i livlige flammer, som har brændt mig op, indefra og ud

jeg ligger nu alene i græsset
glimtende illusioner springer så fint frem på den mørke nattehimmel
som det sidste jeg ser inden jeg
lukker begge mine øjne i
og møder dig i en af mine mange drømme
åh så naivt
og med forvrængede forhåbninger om
du og jeg

tørrer blidt, med knyttet hånd
en tåre af min venstre kind, mens jeg lader den højre dråbe løbe hele vejen ned til starten af mit kraveben
og dæmpet, fortæller jeg mig selv lavmælt  
med en snert af gråd i mit slidte stemmebånd
at dét forvrængede tankesystem her
er bygget på, at jeg så ynkeligt går og venter ivrigt og utålmodigt
på dét
jeg på én og samme tid absolut er bevidst om,
aldrig kommer til at ske
udover i mine drømme

I find passion in the strangest things, perhaps they aren't strange at all, I just feel as if I should be passionate of my own ideas, children of my own soul. A fire awakens in me from the words of another alcohol addled mind and I search deep inside to find a way to make a beautiful thing but I'm always far too sober to and I wonder if maybe I could be like that. A pull or two from Jack's lips makes me feel warm, like I'm home, similar to how a lovers hand on my stomach while im sleeping makes me feel. But maybe if I could find that Absolut resolve she could make my insides as beautiful as I am on the surface. Oh, yes, I am beautiful I see that now but that's neither here and certainly not there. I miss when I could wind words around and around and around me and I could climb like an eight legged beast from one end to the other visiting those i'd ensnared. Smiles and laughs and tears and everything we shared is here but you went away. As if to tell me what it is I never wanted to know. 

You can have your heart or you can have your tongue but only god could have both and even he chooses to have neither.

Alone, washed ashore, by a storm out at sea / upon an ocean so world vast / creation / such are we...
The monster came from dark lagoons (within) / the deep / from a cyclone's cyclopic eye / microscopic minuscule / in the Atomic plane / astral, cosmic spaces:
The Gargantuan
That feeling : like a Godzilla / Dragon looking down,
looking to eat us.

The mountainous undulations (Grand Canyon roller coaster)/ and the thunderheads overhead, lightning in cotton candy / reflection / all dead / shades / of grey (swallowing itself)...

The hellish ride / upon the way towards death process

Yet the experiences most remembered, were the minutes that lit brightest, when I was made / alone / on monsoon ***** serpentine sea / monster of / "an ocean (that) swallowed my parents..."

The poet wrote about his solitude,
About that boy in the headlines:

"Survivor Makes a Storm" / "Monster-Trucks of Life"
/ ["When Towers Fell"]

"The Masters of .Com / Consumers' Industry / Of Games, A Won Not Sum"

"Defeat Will Rewrite (un-write)"
                                                          Their Mystery.
"Into The Blue / Absolut"

Nothing takes away fear like being dead... And Bobby McFerrin said : "Don't Worry Be Happy now"

We whistle in paradise, the poet wrote / the Romantics still yet all to be heard / an unfinished History / Novelties / Neverending / Story of Us

Lovely loving Love...

The Poet Wrote :  (this one here)
"Alone, Washed Ashore" - All aboard!

*(Falling Up)