Winter has not lost it’s grip over the city
The ice once again covers the lakes and medow
Spring is a playful thing not to be trusted
Still every day it is approaching
Frozen Hope
In The Hole
Sometimes I feel
Like a bear
Deep in my bear dwelling
Hunted and in hibernation
Waiting for the winter
To go away
So I can go fishing
In the stream
And look at the
Huge trees
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View of Death
The bridge takes you high above the black water
Avoiding the cold and treacherous ice
That will let you down into the cold void
Every winter a few people dies falling into
The black universe under the ice
Fear and curiosity mix
Sometimes safe, the risks are great
Water giving and taking life
All the time
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Cloudy Days
Have to keep moving
Since being still
Is so depressive
There are no solutions
It does not have to be
A solution
Just a little rip in the cloud
.
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The Winter City
The city is a cold place in the winter
Wind, snow, ice and closed doors
Limits what is possible
Creates a sour bitter depression
Lasting long into the rainy summer
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Grey Nights
Eternal grey clouds
Moving quickly over
The night sky
While I move across empty
Dark streets in the suburbs
Cold and tired after a
Long day,
I am received with
Angry words and demands
I do not know why
I am still here
In this sad position
It is like magic
Only the pine trees
Will be my witness
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Hidden Dream
The dream is still here
Strong and vibrant
Hidden somewhere
Deep inside
Were it is still warm
Away from the frosty winter
That kills all the hope
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The Hope That Died
I did see my hope
Slowly die in the
Cold and dark
Winter night
First it turned blue
And then red
In the end it quickly
Evaporated into the icy air
Leaving only me and the despair
Behind in the dark blue night
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Absent Existence
Abstinence from life
Abstract thinking
Ambivalent ideas
Animated conversations
Winter in the city
Among blackened snow
And icy spots
Spring still distant
No sun
Thousands shades of gray
Black and white
This is what hell
Could be like
.
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Detrimental Subway
A slow moving train
Inside the pale white light
Gives no rest or mercy
For the tired men
Slowly killing their
Hopes and dreams in a
Calm and regulated fashion
While the solar year
Moves on and on
In an eternal circle
That eventually will
Put them underground
Forever
Very few tries to escape
The wheel of bad fortune
Fewer still succeed
Moving beyond
The possible or expected
