Travelling

I am running 
away (again)
No need to stay
No way it is going to be okey
It is going to get worse
I got nothing to reimburse 

So here I am on the train
to the other city
Filled with scream
kids and
quarreling couples 
The dusty road
is filling distorting 
the view
But still 
Out of there
on the way to here
Pain is sometimes a good
thing

On top of me

While silence fell
I did fall
Down on my knees
Begging for my life
And others
This caused concerned
For that the submission
Were to obvious
And the power to visible
They therefore pretended
To be on equal footing
Like the people with power
Are supposed to be in any
Democracy of rang and
Tradition
The decision were of course
Already made
On the principle of repression
And consolidation of their
Murky way

Råd vid skrivandet av texter

Att skriva tar tid, hur mer tid du lägger ner på att skriva desto 
lättare går det. En bra metafor är att likna skrivandet vid en
muskel som måste underhållas. 
Orden och begreppen är centrala. Det finns ord med
positiva betydelser så kallade “Guds ord” som jämlikhet, 
hänsynsfull och kreativ. 
Motsatsen är de negativa orden. De så kallade “Djävuls
orden” Ras, rasism, utvecklingsstörd. 
Vi använder alla dessa ord dagligen eller nästan dagligen
och vårt upprepande av orden skänker dem styrka och 
mening. Det är ofta egenskaper det vill säga adjektiv som
Förstärker en mening. 

Träna därför på att skriva en text med tio positiva begrepp.
Det vill säga Gudsord. Läs igenom texten och ersätt sedan
alla tio positiva begrepp med negativa och se om texten
fortfarande fungerar. Gör den det har du skapat en
mycket dynamisk text och fått lite träning i skrivandets
märkliga konst.

Burn

Empty and badly burned
I entered the church of medicine 
The doctors looked at me
in the terror and contempt
I drank therefore I have to suffer
And deserves to suffer
Love is not here
but hate is good to have
as a companion at night

The hate keeps us awake
and helps us
But love will end the world

Corpus Christi

Does anyone see
me 

Does anyone see
anyone else
Than them self
We are all
island
Every man is an island
He or she lives and
withers, die and
sink to the bottom
of the ocean of 
oblivion 
Everything changes
but we are all going
down sooner or later

Bus to Marx

The bus is full
Full with students
doing economy, business
and advanced studies

Pushing, pressing their way
to happiness and a seat
some fail, some never
even get in to the bus

I am the last one
just when the door
closes
It is not a question
of deserving
It is not a question
of
Salvation
NO

This is a  question
of survival
Using the ladder
of momentarily 
Chaos

God will not help me
Man vill not help me
But i will help myself
the price
Is being lonely 
but in time
to the lecture
on Marxist theory on 
Late Capitalism 

Clinging

Our journey takes us deep deep
down below the sea
And there in the darkness
It is only you and me
We keep clinging 
to each other
Fighting in the same time
as we make love
While we are sinking
even deeper
You want a child
I do not
You want comfort
I want adventure
And change
But we cling to each other
And no one is to blame
Only solitude of grave
is to hope for
In this world without
meaning

Empty

The shell were left on the beach
empty and opened 
We all stood and watch
as they died
The strong fighters, soldiers
our enemies and brothers, sisters
Some were happy
others showed grief 
but the process
is ignorant of those details
A human life is so short
and of no value at all
to the dolphins