A Journey To The Past

Once when I

Was young

That time when we all

Awaited a nuclear war

At anytime of the day

Then the world was in good order

That time long ago

When east was east and west was west

And everybody was happy with that

More or less, more or less

(Nobody asked those people in the east)

The Great Wall protected us from

The terrible east even though

We did not understand it at the time

I travelled through Europe on old trains

Reaching the other side after a week

A very white stone in the Aegean Sea

In the water a fake carpet

Still gives me comfort

The nuclear holocaust has been

Temporary cancelled until

Further notice

The Right

The right side of history

I am on the wrong side

By the way

Always, every time

Curious listening

To everyone

On History

The history repeat itself

Creating endless

Monotonous patterns

Eternal questions and conflicts

Are being weaved to a huge web,

A carpet covering

Our mind and thoughts

We are here because

The great ecosystem, Gaia

Has put us here

Trapped in our own limitations

Our own mind

Still this is not true, sometimes

A surprise happens and we rise

Again and again

Above ourselves

Dual Psych

In deep mode searching

Our future

Opening up closed gates

Going through the whole process

Again and again

Like an eternal pattern

Of different stars

Another galaxy, another me

Yet the same

Runes

Writing was once

A privilege of the few

Few words remains

Mostly carved in stone

Telling about men

That died long time ago

Few can read those

Carved letters

From another time

Outskirts

Driving around in the outskirts of Stockholm. The snow is gone but temperature is well below zero. Discovering unknown parts of the city is way of meditation. This is old Viking country filled with burial-grounds and runestones.

This is pagan and Christian landscape at the same time, churches built on places of pagan worship, messages telling the stories of death and suffering in Russia or Turkey. A lot of fortunes were made there by Vikings being mercenaries or tradesmen.

Our barren land could not feed everyone so the bravest and most desperate left long time ago. This is not a land to be happy in. That is not the nature of Sweden. Here you work and suffers in silence until you eventually die.

Trapped In History

Being trapped in a memory

Of a conflict with my father and

His family

Filling up my mind

Feeling betrayed and abandond

It is hard to let go

Even though I know I have to find

New grounds for living my life

The Twisting Tail

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