Tänkte skriva något kryptiskt men bäst att låta bli...
söndag 31 oktober 2010
fredag 29 oktober 2010
fredag 22 oktober 2010
Man of a thousand faces
The man of a thousand faces
Sits down at the table
Eats a small lump of sugar
And smiles at the moon like he knows her
He begins his quiet ascension
Without anyone's steady instruction
To a place of no religion
He's found a path to her likeness
His words are quiet like stains are
On a tablecloth washed in a river
Stains that are trying to cover
For each other
Or at least blend in with the pattern
Good is better than perfect
Scrub till your fingers are bleeding
And I'm crying for things
I tell others to do without crying
He used to go to his favorite bookstores
And rip out his favorite pages
And stuff 'em into his breast pockets
The moon, to him, was a stranger
And now he sits down at a table
Without anyone's steady instruction
Begins his quiet ascension
To a place of no religion
He's found a path to her likeness
He eats a small lump of sugar
Smiles at the moon like he knows her
onsdag 20 oktober 2010
tisdag 19 oktober 2010
måndag 18 oktober 2010
tisdag 12 oktober 2010
lördag 9 oktober 2010
onsdag 6 oktober 2010
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