I am lost here
No meaning
To be found
Only time
To waste
Contemplative Self Destruction
Here we are in this dirty place
The people that we are
Are the ones we hated yesterday
We despise ourself
Because in our own eyes
We are failures
Creatures not worth living
We thought that we had
All the answers but this is not the case
We are losers
Soon dead
Leaving the world
To be destroyed
By the more successful
Of our stupid spices
On Hatred
Hatred is a good feeling
Making you feel alive
And strong,
Taking quick and swift action
Demanding action
Like a wild horse
Still this is madness
True madness
But reason is limited
And maims the soul
A dangerous contradiction
To be handle with like a
Conundrum
Late a night with care
House of Learning
University is a strange place
Filled with books and bad coffee
I love this place and
I hate this place
A center for learning and
Madness
Sunshine and love will
Not cure this place
Memories From A Broken Life
Watching the coffee drinkers
In a the chic café
The noise of people
Talking with muted
Voices
Quiet violence rushing
Into my ears
Hurting them
Memories of the terror
From earlier years awakens
Memories of torture day by day
Writing in subtle language
That do not heal the broken
Mind and heart
Saturday From Hell
This evening she hated me deeply
She had made the choice
To have a really bad day
Because I was not there
They stayed at home all day
Because of the rain and the total inability
To take the bus
Maybe I deserved it
Defining me as a small man
Deserving to die in a snowpack
She spat on me while my daughter
Who sat in my lap
No inhibitions at all
How bad I was
I needed psychiatric help
And then as always
Like a hand that turned
She was so sad, her colleague
Had not done enough
I put my daughter to sleep
Waiting for the next act
Of the bipolar drama
Good Hate
Hatred is a good
Thing
Glowing in the morning sun
Like red leafs in the autumn
It keeps alive
Less numb
Then the Buddhist denial
Strategy pretending
Strengths and righteousness
The cold numbing
Needed only by the generals and
Money collectors
Winter
Hate is a good thing
The more the better
Keeps your blood boiling
In cold weather
Anger keeps you going
in the fading light of a dying sun
Hope left us for warmer weather
Now we are here alone
In the white death
Feeding only of strong emotions
Nothing more
Or less
Soon we are all going to be dead
But before that
Before that
Let us find a warm place
Where we can
Rejoice and find love
In the sun
I
I hate myself
But
I have to live
myself
The hated house
Every day is the same
People walking by outside
Not taking notice of the hated house
The owner want it gone, but the city
wants it to stay since it been that way
For more than hundred years
So they fight about the might
Year after year
The owner closed shop after shop
Never taking care about the life that is here
The house strives on and for sure it won’t
Soon be gone, but neglected takes its toll
And it makes love fall but what can be done
The house has no choice it stays where it is