"scandinavia" poems
White folks: pack your bags and go.
Our nut-brown world is quite offended.
Make your shame-faced exit NOW,
And leave your mansions unattended.
Wait—before you pass the doors,
It's time to settle ethnic scores.
No more ragtime Minstrel Show.
Our Moorish Science took it down.
Black lives matter. White, less so—
Now move your pale face out of town . . .
But first, shell out for racial shame
Caucasian losers of the game.
Cultural pride is ours alone:
Kings and Egyptian queens we were.
The glories of our race, well-known
Bedazzle in a darkened blur
(Clear to Africa's descendants—
Puzzling to you white dependents).
Blackness lent your world its light,
Taught the Dutch to tend those flowers.
Scandinavia grew bright
Under our beneficent powers.
Negroes gave your blondes their beauty;
Helped those Norsemen shake their *****
The Seven Wonders of the world:
We built them all. No vain conjecture
Dims our banner, black, unfurled,
Above eternal architecture.
Arts and knowledge gained from us
Are what we threaten to discuss.
We invented math and science
Which you robbed from Timbuktu.
Swarthy wisdom's brave defiance
Caused Old Europe to renew.
All our treasure that you plundered
Testifies: your days are numbered.
Classics of our Greeks you stole:
Philosophy was never yours.
Shame upon your racist soul;
For Bach and Mozart both were Moors.
Misappropriated treasures
call for ruthless hard-line measures.
Latino fate falls next—but, where ?
Jews, Turks, and Arabs: are you. . . white ?
Orientals everywhere:
Choose your side and join the fight.
Blackness rising! Late the hour;
Heed your call to fight the power.
Crackers need to check your race—
Stop rooting for that ****** clown.
Rednecks all up in our face;
Racist throwbacks got us down.
But as your statues bite the dust
Your light goes dark (you know it must).
So move on out, oppressor, thief.
Long have you held our nation back.
In some white galaxy seek relief—
But here the light itself is black.
Stars are racist. So is the sun.
Now let God's great black will be done.
Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 12:03 PM UTC
i never used to understand why people
hid their pop preferences like
they might hide a **** room...
or like: the toilet paper ran out,
so i jumped into the shower story;
what's with pop music in older people
and getting the embarrassment sticker
that says: HI, MY NAME IS JEFF
AND I LIKE BRIE POP FROM SCANDINAVIA:
nostalgic culmination? death growl
dark metal: the frustration apparent throughout:
frustrated amateur singers with their
strained veiny necks... see that aorta?
opera singers? are they even opening
their mouths, or is this opera meets Roy Orbison?
and by god, that's the case, people are
ashamed to actually acknowledge their
pop preferences... no wonder Patrick
Bateman is fuelled by it...
it's very much like that... pop's the foundation
in you actually liking music...
shame i love music more than women:
keeps my sanity... 2 months apart
and you can't hear a vacuum cleaner,
maybe once a week... maybe...
then the radio starts playing some vintage Roxette...
Abba who? that's for those aged
40 and above... Roxette is my generation's equivalent.
Roxette's masterpiece? Joyride:
the entire album, yes, you'll listen to
this album like some prog rock feast:
Joyride ( : + italics
is the same as bold:
double emphasis )
***** you will! Roxette's Joyride is the
epitome of pop!
Sep 2, 2016
Sep 2, 2016 at 7:36 PM UTC
Welcome Back To This, Your Isle
The rabbits beneath the deck,
Even the pesky deer who eat the shrubbery,
Sea creatures, living and spirits of the dead,
Lying on the paths and in the creeks of Silver Beach,
All inquire:
Was it better wherever you went?
Were the:
Bears, hiding in the forests outside Berlin,
Eagles, double headed, of Russia
Herring, fried, creamed, wined,
From the vendors on the docks of
Helsinki, Riga, Visby and Tallinn,
Salmon, smoked and cured in Stockholm,
More impressive,
Tastier than our striped bass,
Island cohorts of yours, who waited patiently
For their chronicler to return?
Did the Little Mermaid and her Dolphin
Guardians of the Port of Copenhagen
Welcome you more warmly than your friends,
The ospreys, lizards, turtles and owls
Who overwatch your steps and safety
When hiking in Mashomack Preserve?
Are the interlacing tidal creeks,
Woodlands, fields, salt marshes and the ragged,
Irregular but charmed coastline of this cherished island
Any lesser than those of Scandinavia?
Are the sea-going ferries that transverse the
Baltic Sea and the Gulf of Finland,
More poetic than the Menantic or the Lt. Joe,
Who carry you swiftly home to us?
The National Geographic people say that in
Tivoli Gardens, The Amerikaner (ha!) waffle ice cream cone
Is one of the ten best in the world.
Guessing they have not made it yet to the
Tuck Shop for some Moose Tracks!
Were you unaware that our isle settled before
Peter the Great ever envisioned creating the grand
Boulevards of his capitol, St. Petersburg,
Route 114 was a traveled forest path,
By settlers and Indians, not serfs.
Of the Treasures, the Gold Room of the Hermitage,
The Amber Room of Catherine's Palace,
Wrote not a single word, we observe.
Your attentions, they did not deserve?
The answers all, self evident.
Here, surrounded by the gentle breezes of
Long Island Sound and Gardiners Bay,
Sweet and salty flavors of the Peconic atmosphere,
Words unlocked, from your eyes to the page fall,
Smudged by joyous tears, for the muses of the island
Have embraced you yet again and rebirthed
Inspiration, within their comforting, sheltering grasp.
Silver Beach
July 22, 2012
Aug 3, 2013
Aug 3, 2013 at 4:50 PM UTC
#1-- Legacy
This city was my ancestors' town.
We have laid tar on your horse-paths-
a university grew from Riverview roots-
you chopped firewood from the
great-great grandfathers
of these trees.
#2-- saint cloud sounds like
midnight, shoemaker: haunted cries.
munsinger's melody: scurries & chirps.
when TNT shatters granite at the quarry.
pucks' percussion at the brooks center.
buzz of summers on lake george's shore.
somalia & scandinavia, singing.
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 1:16 AM UTC
If I were a month, I’d be September.
If I were a day of the week, I’d be Thursday.
If I were a planet, I’d be Saturn.
If I were a sea animal, I’d be coral.
If I were a piece of furniture, I’d be a bookshelf.
If I were a gemstone, I’d be a sapphire.
If I were a flower, I’d be bougainvillea.
If I were a kind of weather, I’d be a crisp autumn wind.
If I were a color, I’d be auburn. (much like my hair)
If I were an emotion, I’d be wonderstruck.
If I were a fruit, I’d be a pomegranate.
If I were an element, I’d be air.
If I were a place, I’d be a field of wildflowers in Scandinavia or a bookshop in Northern Italy.
If I were a taste, I’d taste like sweet and bitter black tea.
If I were a scent, I’d be the smell of freshly baked goods.
If I were an object, I’d be a pencil sharpener.
If I were a body part, I’d be freckles.
If I were a song, I’d be Thoughts of Flight by Edmund.
If I were a pair of shoes, I’d be bright purple converse.
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 2:47 AM UTC
*at night you can spot him strolling the pavement,
the modern archimedes, with a bottle of bavaria beer,
using his cigarette lighter to detail the bottle cap
with one smooth use of leverage, as taught
by paul the ex-convict, the hopeful dub-step d.j.*
the 19th century had its pan-slavism,
but given there’s a union between the germanic people
and slavic people while mama siberia is
left behind freezing,
outside with the big bad wolves and bears -
having exported serious existential literature
of doom and grooming gloom to scandinavia,
the balkan slavs still uncertain, rejected in favour
of the bulgars and the romanians,
i can mention the northern slavic trans-slavism,
not quiet trans-gender, such a linguistic surgery of the soul
requires little details like:
my point was proved about the up-turned nose in england
concerning public intellectuals... they do great cornish pastry
and music anyway, let the french do the thinking
and find joy in it -
plus reading philosophy books
in english is like pulling your teeth out, standing in a bucket of
ice cold water with someone setting fire to your hair.
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 9:00 AM UTC
Priti Patel's quote on EU migration - whatever it was...
list of common surnames: cropper, cross, crouch,
dabney, dalton, daniels, eads, easton, eccleston,
fairclough, farnham, fay, gardner, garey, garfield,
haight, hanes, hailey, ibbott, irvin, isaacson,
jack, jackson, jacobs, kay, keen, kelsey,
lacey, lacy, lamar, macey, mann, marchand,
neal, nelson, neville... sure pati japati patel -
i'll be an albino in Gujarat
if your play the sitar in a sari;
but your name sounds a bit migrant
revealing, what a weird 'back of the bus'
you seem to stand on -
you want the Mongolians resurrected?
i swear we were being ousted in line
of what Queen Sheba said to Solomon:
'olive skinned throughout the geography
and the unwelcome green men on
sponged-knickers creaming for an ******
a french dessert...'
yes pretty prior, you found home on a
continent when half of the european nations
didn't practice colonial antics -
i guess it's easier to pick on them.
but with a Patel surname you sound british
already, the great experiment worked
the anaesthetic of former colonialism
numbed via recreational Ketamine use
really numbed the skull and jaw mandibles -
i hate, i hate being conscripted into
post-colonial affairs of "why it all failed"
what a waste of the urban hubs of
Manchester or Liverpool -
where once artistic expression thrived -
i hate these post-colonial societies,
it's as if they were castrated en masse,
and they're wondering why no one has a permanent
suntan in scandinavia - maybe the raw herring diet -
cinnamon up your *** magician's trick with
space between fudge of digestion, disappearing trick
but then the cough that blinds you sweetly -
i guess post-colonial nationalism wanted to
listen to non-colonial nationalism -
a former migrant like pretty plated smell
olive skinned exploited inversion of angers
but dunked a footstep into a trip-up
with non-colonial nations -
a bit like the greek bail-out - pretty patel
is a name least likely associated with migration;
you teasing the beast out?
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 9:33 PM UTC
Fascism's lack of Sanity
They are called Odin's soldiers
And dress partly alike,
Leather jackets
Short cropped hair
And with an angry, righteous
Expression in white, round faces.
They claim to protect women
But they are just fascist who hates
People not like them.
For people from Syria or elsewhere
Who fled for their life
And often saw their loved ones drown,
Only came to the frozen north
As a last resort.
What people of Scandinavia need is
Intermarriage
To save them from dying drunk in
the snow.
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 7:46 AM UTC
*two bottles of 70cl whiskey later and a few beers, popping sleeping pills for an actual effect worked with (it's ten past five p.m., i'm already mentioning ~ eleven minutes to midnight, so wait)... you get the shovel and broom ushering the ***** drinkers from a town centre in Leicester or Norwich; or you implant a hope to live in Scandinavia; you're basically laughing with a russian at that point: 'eh eh, where's lithuania?' 'ah **** it's next to yuri reciting poetry on the laika satellite.' 'thought so.' german started from monkeys, sent one into space... slavs started with dogs... like all good people, i would too have kept the cats grounded in atmosphere; well, the oedipal riddle began with a sphinx, so i'm more than ready for the cerberus.*
i'm not going to repent for
my alcoholic metabolism,
i'll wait till you turn into ostriches
ostricizing vegans for anaemia
and bulimia and the london fashion show;
bullseye market that cares for
diaphragms and diabetes; sure the arabs
are alcohol free, but diabetic
looking into the sand dunes like looking
at dunes of sugar.
Feb 28, 2016
Feb 28, 2016 at 12:02 PM UTC
Confined inside the tundra
Frozen beneath the dirt
Uncovered by a digging team
Unleashed upon the earth
Ancient in Origin
In Nature, a War Begins
Prehistoric Breed
Awakens now to Feast
From the soils of Lapland
It is freed
Citizens of Denmark!
Run and flee!
Terrible Lizard
Frenzied Feed
New Dragonslayers
Make it Bleed
It stands five stories tall
Armored scales, unbreakable
Weaving a path of destruction and hate
Nothing but death in its wake
Scandinavia meets her fate
Progress made a fatal mistake
Acid venom and neon flames
We will never forget the name...
Reptilicus!
Rising...
High North Kaiju
Reptilicus!
Rising...
It will find you...
Apr 14, 2017
Apr 14, 2017 at 8:53 PM UTC
i like those lakes in elliot’s bed. i love your nose the telephone, in the stairs
caroling almost like milk
—-
i want to wake you up to talk about landscape
it’s there-there on girls’ faces, ponds with a chair,
the lovely black, graphic novels about Scandinavia, MDMA, a beast…
describe your earliest memory.
perfect, shy, painful and no one is an American petal. a sunny room
recedes into his head like bark and the blue veins, almost lewdly thick blue canals of memory. it is so entirely unfocused and I cried, shed tears for the moon. I am meticulously cutting holes in his chest as in a deep breath-
That’s it. My literary malfunction is chopping at the snow, ankle-deep
Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 8:36 PM UTC
Grown up between the waters
Bridge to Scandinavia
Looked west over the dikes
The lost lands to the sea
Went East to the cliffs
The Russian winds do blow
Back to the middle
Where the gales
Sweep the dirts soul
Jan 22, 2021
Jan 22, 2021 at 9:13 PM UTC
you can never under-estimate the humanity
of one example,
as you already exampled undermining
the humanity of "you", or whatever choice
of pronoun that befits your idea of superiority -
as said Japan attacked, China retaliatory -
Mongol kept apart - bereaving Scandinavia
bereft due to the European ploy fancy;
you can never under-estimate the humanity
of one example,
as you already exampled undermining
the humanity of "you", or whatever choice
of pronoun that benefits with your idea of superiority -
as said Pearl Harbour: war against war
rather than war against society - indeed modernity
with the man in the high castle rather than
i'm the king of the castle - whereby the softened
consonants rather the hardened vowels -
ð adjacent of j - verifiable ðe- or -dje,
dje - or thus extreme English definite articulate of θη -
i won't give you answers, forget it ****
i don't have a lifetime or likened vein of thought -
variations of f and some vowel, θ- e-i -φ - gobble up
a blah... due to η we endow θ with a calibre of vowel necessary,
fully... eta is like a missing diacritic on emicron, shortened,
ah **** epsilon - one and the same...
still involved, softening, duck-quack-and-feather cushioning,
i admit it's regardless of being 90 years of age
skipping rope and boa entanglement to myth
in memory of a life actually lived -
the stink of my great-grandmother's apartment
the coal-set-piece of what could be a baking oven...
the whole place was scented in ferns...
i don't know why, ferns, it was just ferns...
it wasn't Parisian perfumes, it, was, just, ferns...
it was't the next trend of clothing, it was just fur,
you watched your neighbour's television because
you didn't have your own... ferns! ferns! ferns!
the myth told to children about a golden fern leaf,
the myth of Gutwin and the bee that stung my shin -
it's so long ago, i wish it remained,
all i have is America i'll never see, ever hear,
ever touch, America is just an advert, it's nothing,
all i have is America i'll never savour, ever feel,
ever know, it's just abstract, all i'll get from America
is Apache alcoholism as worth writing about
rather than taking a selfie... and that's about it...
otherwise i'm left with kardashian celluloid -
globalisation really has made London a village
and Abridge a capital.
Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 10:57 PM UTC
*summer's here;
and so's my ****** poetry.*
custard on skin, sweat, ********
while others peacock
around, basking in the sun,
to the trance of Ibiza
or perhaps sloth in St. James'
park feeding mandrakes
and geese and swans
these sun worshippers
and their hotdog selfies on
beaches, sunglasses, molasses
and ice-cream -
i'm sitting among blank stairs,
like an alcoholic Aboriginal in
some desert town in Australia -
blank, nothing coming in,
nothing coming out -
the usual traffic of poetry in me
exhausted by summer, the one season
i'm like Mr. Grinch - the loathing
of the heat - with Sahara blowing
more than sand these days -
fruitless season: oh, but of course i
can eat a strawberry, a grape
a watermelon and whatever i wish,
a kiwi a mango, whatever,
but i just can't dig my teeth into
the page, like i can in winter -
with it's gloom and frost and grey cold.
like in Scandinavia - where they treat
their melancholic aura as the last
happiness, or a hidden happiness,
where it's not a medical condition
worthy of a chemical concoction -
much more than just
pill after pill after pill -
the next pinch of airy salt that the cold is:
pinch after pinch on the face and the hands
as if plucking out feathers of a chicken.
summer's here,
and so the first summer thunderstorms,
yesterday the great stomach of
Ethiopia and Sudan descended over
my house, the rumbling of a stomach
of a thousand starving - thunder -
the great voice -
summer's here,
and so's my ****** poetry -
torden: stemme av eldgammel hvisking,
etymological observation working from
the Norwegian hvisking (whisper), although
similar, in Polish - obviously a letter or two
more, but the prefix hvis-
according to alexander brückner (Cracow, 1927):
chwist, chwistać, chwis(t)nąć,
‘orzech próżny’, chwist w 15. i 16. wieku,
jeszcze u Reja, ‘błazen’, właściwie ‘aktor,
komedjant’, ‘mimus’; jak świstek (papieru),
‘orzech próżny’ nazywa się
r. 1472 gwiżdżem i malikiem (p.);
u czechów chwiszt, ‘świstak’;
tylko u nas i u Czechów istnieje to chwist,
chwistati, por. gwizdać
i świstać u innych słowian;
my concern however is stressed in
italicised form,
he supposed that chwist- only exists
among poles and czech - well it doesn't,
it also exists among norwegians -
as already shown, with hvisk-.
Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 1:19 PM UTC
☪ ☮ ☪ ☮ ☪ ☮ ☪ ☮
Bearded and furious, quoting some prophet
they rage in the streets of their failed nation-states
exporting dysfunction, subversion and violence
the hordes are empowered—they’re now at your gates.
They fume as they gesture, in ***** pajamas
and brood over battles from centuries past.
they **** for their Caliph in murderous dramas;
the next ****** tantrum will not be their last.
Republicrat/Democan? Satan to them…
They care not an angel what party you vote.
Your well-meaning efforts are lost in translation—
they’ll just as soon slit your good liberal throat.
Scandinavia’s day-dream, once Nordic, once bright
is consumed in the chaos and vanished as smoke.
Santa Lucia receives violent darkness for light
as statistics play dead to her national joke.
The Ishmaelite deity (Arabic sin)
is a vicious excuse for extreme misbehavior;
a wind of aggression, demonic conception
enraging dead souls against Jesus, Our Savior
Let destruction descend upon Mecca/Medina.
The angels rejoice—may the righteous side win;
for the judgement of God on an evil religion
proclaims that earth’s joy is about to begin.
While the minarets topple, midst filth and manure
in a cleansing display of immaculate hope,
the muezzins are silenced, the pilgrims are stalled
and the muftis are starting to mope.
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 11:34 AM UTC
it´s cold out here today
like scandinavia cold
like celcius cold
fahrenheits are for ******* anyway
still just trying to remember the day
when vine tasted like sun
and wool socks were just a mere memory
of last years polar night
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 2:17 PM UTC
My hair is soft
yet the only other fingers
aware of how soft
have long since past.
I do sports - not watch
that is, of course,
unless my sons are playing
or the music is right
and the party is tight!
I catch Pokemon
**** in Fallout 4
visit Azeroth every chance I get....
My DNA - an enigma
African
Irish
Southern Europe
Finland and Siberia
Scandinavia
Neanderthal
A puzzle wrapped in a conundrum-
All questions - no answers...
I love action movies, Marvel and DC Movies
Game of Thrones
Vikings
I was amazed at the evolution
White to Heisenberg....
Cognitively I know my age
Yet spiritually
my soul is ageless....
My music rap to rock
old school and new
jazz, classical
Western, Eastern, Mid-Eastern, South American
all but Celtic....
can't handle most Celtic!
I love sunrises in
the US
Canada
Mexico
Egypt
Jordan
I plan to see more world wide
God(s?) willing....
Ms taken
Ms abused
Ms understood....
Me!
Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 10:41 AM UTC
learn the tao
the only tao there is...
*forget the world
and let the world forget you*,
dream up this morbid majesty
before the coffin echoes
your soul's epitaph of
the segregation of millennia
between dinosaur epochs
and the renaissance;
between switz chocolate skin of africa
and the pale dolphin blue of
scandinavia.
Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 4:44 PM UTC
a man and the household, and how a woman should run one;
please don't...
i rather cook my own meals...
and i don't mean 15 minute ready meals...
i mean: tina turner poaching this lobster
crying... type of meals... a...
oh **** me... i'm getting all sentimental...
i'm jizzing out tears into a hanky... hanley?
no! a chief! a chief! it's the 1980's all over again...
it was some you-tuber asking women to
become housewives... no... no! please no!
i want to cook my own food... women use too
much salt!
i can't stomach woman's cooking...
i don't need that much salt!
what, you had your arab ******* you live in the desert, right?
you are all: alcohol is bad... ooh... alcohol... ba... ba... bad;
alcohol dehyrdates you... you're in a desert...
vectors? pointers?
no? you don't drink alcohol in scandinavia
to party.... you drink it so you don't end up eating snow.
bangladeshi slaves working
on the towers of dubai; fair enough,
and the northern ****
with the "mystcism" of the eastern wind...
**** me! is that συλ(θ/φ)(υ/o)ρ γας?
mustard?
sulphur...
or... one of them... how to be a good woman...
cook for him!
no... really... thank you... i'm not going to
exactly cook a michelin duck...
but now... i know how much salt i need...
and now i'm going to listen to some tina turner,
and feel like one-hundred-dollars...
then i'll eat some food i prepared earlier...
and try to fall asleep with a 9kg *maine ****
ginger cat;
so, hmm.
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 6:46 PM UTC
Shield Maiden Astrid - In the heart of the Viking age, amidst the rugged landscapes of Scandinavia, there lived a tribe known as the Fjord Fangs. They were a fierce people, renowned for their prowess in battle and their unwavering loyalty to their chieftain, Sigurd the Bold. But amongst them, there was one whose courage burned even brighter than the northern lights: Astrid, the shield maiden.
From a young age, Astrid had trained alongside the warriors of her tribe, honing her skills with sword and shield. She possessed a spirit as untamed as the roaring seas, and her determination was unmatched. Despite the expectations placed upon her to conform to traditional roles, Astrid yearned for something more - to prove herself on the battlefield alongside her fellow warriors.
When news reached the Fjord Fangs of an impending invasion by a rival tribe, led by the fearsome chieftain Ragnar the Ruthless, the warriors prepared for battle. But Sigurd hesitated to send Astrid into the fray, fearing for her safety. However, Astrid refused to be sidelined, insisting that she could fight alongside her comrades and defend her people with all her strength.
As the rival tribe descended upon their lands, Astrid stood shoulder to shoulder with her fellow warriors, her shield held high and her sword gleaming in the sunlight. With a ferocious battle cry, she charged into the fray, her courage inspiring those around her. Despite facing overwhelming odds, the Fjord Fangs fought with a tenacity born of desperation and the determination to protect their home.
In the midst of the chaos, Astrid distinguished herself with acts of unmatched bravery. She defended her comrades with unwavering resolve, her shield deflecting blow after blow, and her sword striking true against their foes. Her leadership on the battlefield rallied the warriors, turning the tide of battle in their favor.
In a climactic showdown, Astrid found herself face to face with Ragnar himself, the imposing chieftain towering over her. With a steely gaze and a fierce determination, she squared off against her adversary, refusing to back down. In a clash of steel and fury, Astrid fought with all her might, her every move a testament to her skill and courage.
In the end, it was Astrid who emerged victorious, her blade piercing Ragnar's defenses and striking him down. With their chieftain defeated, the rival tribe fled in disarray, their hopes of conquest dashed upon the rocks of Astrid's indomitable spirit.
From that day forth, Astrid was hailed as a hero among her people, her bravery and leadership earning her the respect of all who knew her. And as the fires of victory burned brightly in the night sky, the Fjord Fangs stood united once more, their tribe stronger than ever before under the fearless guidance of their shield maiden.
https://youtu.be/Xa8Hc00cYPs?si=QqfaASv8ZejzktYI
Mar 16, 2024
Mar 16, 2024 at 2:00 PM UTC
The Hideous Heart of Scandinavia
Morning in Oslo, from my hotel room I see many roofs
most of them of the same design; tidy, I wondered if they
employed a roof sweeper.
Social democracy in action cold and efficient not given
to surface passion, even their homegrown terrorists is
boring but dangerous.
Streets in Oslo are clean too so spotless they look
somehow defenceless and slightly obscene.
The citizens are restraint, tolerantly wait for traffic light
to turn green so the can cross even if no cars are coming.
But there is another Oslo especially at weekends
when people drink an enormous about of beer fight breaks
out and knives shine in moonlit nights.
The lust for ****** hark backs to a shared cataleptic
memory; and you know there is a pent-up passion
In the hideous heart of Scandinavia
Sep 27, 2017
Sep 27, 2017 at 3:32 AM UTC
1 January Britain, Russia, Spain, Canada,
Europe, Russia, Spain and Italy, and Rome.
We are in Saudi Arabia, Saudi Arabia, Saudi
Arabia, Saudi Arabia, United States, United
Kingdom (7), Canada, Russia, Saudi Arabia,
Saudi Arabia,
Saudi Arabia, Canada, Russia, Spain, Germany,
Brazil, Asia, Asia and South America, USA,
Russia,
Spain, Italy, Canada, Russia, Spain, Italy
and Saudi Arabia, United States, Canada,
United Kingdom, United Kingdom,
United Kingdom, UK Snedede States,
United Kingdom, Scandinavia, USA,
Asia, New York, Australia, Da Nang. Saudi Arabia,
Saudi Arabia, Saudi Arabia, Saudi Arabia, Asia
and Saudi Arabia, Canada, Russia, Spain, Canada,
South America; Abu Bakara, South America, Latin America,
Asia, USA, 1: 9, 73, Jamaica Pittsburgh;
Saudi Arabia 5) Fax 12 9 2 Turkey, Australia,
Berlin,
United States, Russia, Spain, Italy, Canada,
Russia, Spain, Italy and Saudi Arabia, 'UK',
Europe, Russia, Scotland, Abram, USA, Canada,
Saudi Arabia, Australia, Saudi Arabia, UK,
Australia, United States, including Asia, Australia,
Guam cut; Europe, Russia, Spain, Canada, Saudi
Arabia, Saudi Arabia, Russia, Scandinavia,
Vietnam. January 1 of Great Britain, Russia,
Spain, Canada, Europe, Russia, Spain, Italy
and Rome.
France, Saudi Arabia, Saudi Arabia, Saudi Arabia,
Saudi Arabia, United States, United States (7), United States,
Russia, Saudi Arabia, Saudi Arabia,
Saudi Arabia and the United States,
Russia, Spain, United States, United States,
umm, Bulemia, Latin America, Asia,
Asia and South America. The United States,
Russia, Spain, Italy and the United States,
Russia, Spain and Italy. Saudi Arabia
Saudi Arabia, United Kingdom, United
States, United Kingdom,
United States, United Kingdom,
United States,
United Kingdom, United States, United Kingdom,
United States, United Kingdom, United States,
United Kingdom, Scandinavia and Vietnam;
United States,
United States, Asia, Asian context, New York,
Australia, Danang. 1 Great Britain, Russia,
Spain, Canada, Europe, Russia, Gatoberg,
Russia, Italy, Spain, United States, M. Low, 1973),
United States, 1973, Jamaica, United States,
in Pittsburgh, United States, Saudi Arabia
August in Saudi Arabia, Saudi Arabia,
Saudi Arabia, Saudi Arabia, Saudi Arabia,
United States, United States (7), Saudi
Arabia, Saudi Arabia,
Saudi Arabia and the United States,
Russia, Spain, Canada, South America,
Abu Bakr , South Americans in Latin
America,
Asia, Asia and songs. The United States,
Russia, Spain, Italy and the United States,
Russia, Spain and Italy. (1973 and 1973),
Saudi Arabia, Saudi Arabia, Great Britain,
Europe, Russia, Scotland, Sarai,
United States, Canada, Australia, Saudi
Arabia, Saudi Arabia 5) Fax 1292: New York'
Istanbul,
Australia, Berlin, United States , United
Kingdom, United Kingdom, United States,
1973), Europe, Russia, Spain, Canada,
Saudi Arabia, Saudi Arabia, Russia,
Scandinavia and Vietnam, the United States,
Asia, Asia, Australia, Guam, and cover
the corridors.
Nov 27, 2018
Nov 27, 2018 at 11:49 PM UTC