pirmdiena, 2020. gada 24. februāris

Ay, lad!

I will walk to Rotterdam
The place I want to be,
Where legs will feel much lighter,
Where I will dance more free.
I will walk to Gjerdmundshamn
With a name so fucking long,
I'll pick an axe, a beer,
As self-sufficient as I am,
A lady goddamn strong.
I will walk to Dingle,
Hoping I shall mingle,
As trustworthy as steady boots,
In mud thoughts covered, there she shoots.
And just as I walked down the line,
I slipped and saw a man damn fine,
And since there came a chance to dine -
I jumped up charming the poor lad,
His hair so thick, his stature - mad!
But wait, mate, something's wrong, you're soft...
Oh, who the hell am I to lose,
Drank too much beer,
It is a moose.

ceturtdiena, 2020. gada 20. februāris

Coats.

You are weak,
For all the drugs you seek,
You just want to lit up,
Reach a short, glorious peak.
And all those dreams, material
Or irrational, delusions,
You let your emotions take over,
To speak for yourself,
You live for pretty illusions.
The reality bites,
Icy cold and the spites,
Make us crave for disaster
The tides that grow over our heads,
The connections we break -
We call them "new fashion",
A coat made of multiple threads.
The life with no reason,
Immense sense of "I",
As far as it gets.

otrdiena, 2020. gada 18. februāris

We are and we have never been.

Why is that we even care about a category such as husband? Wife?
What is all of the whirlwind of life?
Where do we go and what do we see,
If all we have ever been and have never - is free.
The freedom doesn't exist,
You're here, I'm here,
We are on the list
Of life.
But all turn to dust,
Our souls reborn into new
But old rust.
We are humans guided by pain, by violence, by lust.

sestdiena, 2020. gada 15. februāris

That's the conclusion.

I'm hanging like a
Being.
Experiencing, feeling,
Seeing.
I'm hanging like a
Being.
On a thread that's thin and
Freeing.
Freedom, the beauty, illusion,
The lies and the truth,
Life is a fusion.
We're fucked up humans,
The end.
That's the conclusion.

otrdiena, 2020. gada 11. februāris

Our lord, mighty savior.

A king that changes stance each time,
Doesn't need a queen.
He just wants something to cease the boredom,
Not to see as an equal,
But to own.
Just like other things.
A fun possession.
A compromise isn't the word.
For the king that holds a candy cane

As a sword.
So sweet and so fragile, Just like the confession. Unbreakable you say, Until you change your progression. Switch to another stance again, But you remain true to your choice, No other opinions matter, If the king has given his voice.


trešdiena, 2020. gada 5. februāris

I'm cursed.

How did I get here,
To this part where I'm drunk,
Listening to music,
While waiting to your voice's sound.
All I think about is you.
It's like a fucking curse I'm going through
And I have no clue of what I should do.
Why am I so lost at once.
Why I think of you.
What's the matter with my head,
When all I dream is you.
And heart burns,
Heart, I place in water. Blue.
I sink in,
And so do you.
Thunder I've always loved.
Do I fucking love?
I love you.

Will this hit you?
Yes, it will.
It won't make matters better,
No feelings have been neither, will they be left still.
No waves have silence.
No love has calm.
I wish for fire,
I wish to touch and kiss your palm.
Fuck me, I confess
With the faithful psalm.

ceturtdiena, 2020. gada 30. janvāris

[Please:come with:stay]


I wash my thoughts,
I wash my tears,
I wash away 
And wash my fears.
I bring it down,
Just as myself,
I wash to dawn,
It disappears.


For you I wash,
I wash my gears.
Clean system.
No smiles. No tears.
As my empathy and love,
Just into dawn it disappears.
I'll be the best,
I'll wash it all away,

And you will, you will
[Please:come with:stay].