The Center

Freezing in the afternoon breeze

The setting sun changes the colour

Of the city giving an illusion of ancient

History that didn’t exist

The calm, slick atmosphere of the

Administrative building

So frustrating in its denial

And lack of a soul

Promises a future

That is doomed and fears

For it’s own shadow

I am that shadow

Getting By

Feeling like an

Ordinary conman

Just trying to get by

Without being

To hurt

Unable to achieve anything

No success, no money

Just a lot of angry people

Trying to put me down

White Reality

Leaving the reality behind

Walking slowly and carefully

Into the dreamy landscape

Of the winter ice

Like a use steppe in the middle of the city

Divided by open water

Here and there

The winter gives us

A temporary reality

With the danger

Of drowning

Lingering just a few

Yards away

Flooding Season

Dripping wet towels

Covering the floor

Flooded street

And a bad smell

Someone singing

In the middle of the disaster

Eventually the water

Receded and left us

With the chaos and dirt

But for a few days

We had the freedom from

Electricity and nosy surveillance

Creating weird sensation

Nil

The day has turned off

It’s cold and indifferent

Light and turned dark blue

High above the city light

Communicating again

With stars and outer galaxies

With songs and serene messages

Sent long ago from places that

Forever has perished

The present that seems so

Eternal is just a short stunt

A flash in the pan

But for us it’s forever

One of the illusions

We need for accepting

Our meaningless existence

At this very moment

Love will not save us

Neither will the saviour

With his non present,

Presence

Crowds

The crowds of the city

Has left their dwellings

Moving around in

Disciplined groups

Up and down,

Round and round

Bumping into each other

Fighting for space

Life is slow,

Everything seems to be

Permanent

Locked in rigid patterns of

Existence

Illusions are fine

They are like wine

You drink and enjoy until you

Wake up with an headache

Realising that most of your

Life was a dream

Wasted on the altar

Of ideas and dreams

 

Waiting for the Great Destruction

Tepid days

Slow moving

Grayness rules

My world of lost

Hope and courage

Nothing to hope for

Just an eternal wait for

Spring and new options

That might never come

Soon the destruction of

Nature will overtake and

Change the nature of this

Place

Only organised

People will live here

Paying a lot of money

For being unhappy

But successful

The world will erase

Their memory

Passed Time

Lost city, left by time

Somewhere at the end of the world

The train is late

Waiting forever

In a loop

While the sun sets

Over the rusty tracks