Under the bridge dreaming

Jamming with feelings under the bridge, waiting for the floods

And near, just on the waterfront, seagulls are staring at the fjord

Ships pass by and I, I look for a possible mermaid.

Although I know, I can’t take her away on shore and I can’t live underwater

Although I know that this love is forbidden by nature,

I’ll try to be her Northern Sailor with a mushroom tattoo on my chest

With seaweed on deck, a flower made flag on the bow and a white navigation light at the stern.

I’ll learn how to sail for her bliss and survive without a compass on dark waters.

Let there be no wind to blow, let there be no slaughters and the possibility of an Island materialized

in sand, love and peace. Let there be sun, this mermaid of mine and no barriers imposed by people.

I woke up from this jam and I find

My hands clenched on the present, but this hard to tame horse

Jumps and runs for the future without me

No fun, ruined plans, demolished dreams

No floods, no mermaid appears, is just me under the bridge.

Cars roar above, I find my peace in electric guitars

With beautiful sounds that flow from my headphones.

Acceptance keeps me on the track, but I wonder

For how long.

all we do is what they say

Political views surrounding existences and breaking societies

Separated by laws, new born ideologies

Milestone achievements, happy in lies, dreams conformed to standards.

Compassion spreads through viral videos on social media

The Man stands tall and talks to the masses

Increased surveillance over the young

Put them in boxes and feed them with hope

With lies and that fake sensation of success?

It happens that, this is the way.

We feel like heroes of the new world order

Because they want that, because they do that

With their companies and well-paid jobs

All is known and all is done before influencing the masses

Riots of the young, all in vain

Speaking out your thoughts, all in vain

Poetry of the streets, all in vain

New born, all in vain

Get a good job, all in vain

Find a girl and settle down, all in vain

Fighting for truth, happiness, fulfillment, all in all

It’s all in vain.

experience transgression

What happened? A drunken monkey asks. Behind the wall, every thought is important. Every human is a drunken monkey. Which wall? One made out of obscure substances. A car passes by you and you hear them yell. Mediocre standards are chaining individuals to normality.
Endless journeys to discover your path. They all end in failure, everything dies. And all your childhood dreams disappear into the night’s haze. Failure is closely connected to those standards. Alcohol is not.

And then, silence will embrace us for eternity. What’s that? A stoned monkey asks. Behind the wall, you can be free for a couple of minutes or hours. You can express those feelings, hard to explain in the daylight. They flow. Behind the wall, standards die. Rules are melted into a large pot of endless conversations. Everything becomes so real. Colors play social games with your red eyes and ancient scents are awaken. Criticism is burned down, rolled in smoking papers. And everyone befriended with acceptance. Tolerance has no meaning on the other side of the wall, where monkeys can’t talk.

Nothing gives birth to something. Something has to be better than nothing. Why? A group of happy monkeys shouts from the back. Short stories are written on bathroom doors. Nobody really gives a fuck about A+B equals love but nevertheless they read it while taking a dump. And sometimes while sitting there, some are imagining of how A or B looks like, or how’s they’re life compared to them. Then the inevitable produces. They rise, wipe their ass and leave.

Behind the wall everyone is equal. Everyone is accepted as a monkey.

I didn't ask for bitter coffee

Every sip of coffee puts a smile

on the morning stories

but once in a while nausea hits

the sleepless man.

Dragging memories through ashtrays,

smoking cigarettes with trembling hands

not knowing where it ends or where it started

floating on the smoky air with no plans,

our songs were uncharted.

Without heroes it’s hard to understand

what’s good or it’s bad

who’s the villain in disguise

the madness in the coffee foam.

Our mistakes were beautifully shaped

in a silent harmony

hidden in the morning aroma.

alcoholic anonymous

She lights a cigarette and looks around for a perfect face to take back home, into her empty bed. Too long has passed since last, she dived in lust and touched a human skin. She takes her blame for all of this, she takes the blame. With her desires, wandering the streets in search of one to stay around, but failed. Now strangers act like wolfs, and she’s the sheep, a grotesque image, a cheap revenge. Perverted words that penetrated the normal, angelic memories transformed in porn.

Disgusted he walks in silence from these scenes of flesh on flesh. A fuck without a feeling is a wrong method for healing loneliness. And from far he sees her true nature cleverly disguised over the years in white sheets and flawless actions. Deception hits him to the corner where depression awaits to comfort the stupid man.

She walks the streets in search for flesh. She walks the streets. A soul that died, the body needs pleasure. She strays among wolfs with sly eyes. Men gathering around her hips, forming queues. Ugly peasants staring at her pointed tits. The flower that bloomed was sold to devils so that they can burn every beautiful petal in sinful ways. Love? Died, squashed by societies standards. True love maybe existed somewhere in the days of our fathers but it’s extinct.

Are you there? He shouts in the night but the night is not his friend anymore. Alcohol and drugs estrange people. Cigarettes pop their lighted heads into the dark. He wonders why and how.

Sweat drips on her skin, ugly males pumping vaginas, innocent memories fade, lost between the copulating bodies. She’s in beds covered by other skins. She screams. He sins. She fucks. He drops. She cleans the mess. He vomits the golden years. All of them. They’re in parties.

The sun goes down taking dignity from humans. The moon comes bringing lust to their beings. Special effects arouse the weak. They’re in parties. Blinded by the lights there’s no way to see the succubus and the incubus sneaking to fuck your dreams away.