5 Olympic Rings, 2 Gun Barrels & 1 Pubic Hair

Slå på googles svenska version för en snabb översättning men jag ansvarar inte för deras ordförråd =)
Jag valde att lägga alla engelska på samma sida men i framtiden blir de på svenska igen...men det kanske är bättre om ingen nu skulle förstå allt, som Gubben en gång sa "lys upp sidan den är för mörk, så folk ser att läsa, men det kanske inte är meningen" (hoppas på comeback soon)

LPWJ 17/02/09

I. What Do You Want Me To Do
II. Sitting in the Ruins under a Rose Window of a long ago fallen Stonechurch (Hymn to Heathcliff)
III. The Pubic Hair
Bonus: Flabaghasted (poetryslam)

~*~

What Do You Want Me To Do


What do you want me to do
I could write you a line or two
but it wouldn't really help you
so what do you want me to do

What's your innermost wish
I could perhaps buy you some kitsch
from some second hand store Witch
is that your most inner wish

What do you want me to say
I very seldom get enough paid
so perhaps I could wire some money come May
is that OK, what do you say

What is your most inner wish
I could probably give you a poem or two
but I sit here now looking at you
and I might understand your innermost wish
because now it wouldn't help you
as long as that part of the Earth's
run by government fools

and I see you cry in despair
for TV who makes it clear to see
all the victims in the streets
so what can I really do for you
and I don't know your name
by now everything looks the same
Tibet, Burma, Gaza, a deja vu and everyone
knows who to blame
so please tell me what you want me to do

because this summer's Olympic games
were held by the militant criminally insane!
sponsored by greedy non-human rights
corporate tools...
and we did all we could do
to stop the hurt brought upon all of you
still the world won't let them hide any of you
because by now we got enough of your names
so that's maybe what we can do!

LPWJ 15/01/09



Goth Poetry, influenced by
Wuthering Heights (Svindlande Höjder)
& maybe a little of "hemmansägare Patriques troubles with his neighbour friend", which I can totally relate to; all my words he suffers through to get to the good..


Sitting in the Ruins under a Rose Window of a long ago fallen Stonechurch (Hymn to Heathcliff)
~*~
I can't remember when I last was happy
I sit here thinking, reflecting upon it and listen to the wind whine through the wildvine
coming from over the meadows while I try and remember love that lies forgotten forlorn
and I keep watching over there
the brisk air over the rural land might be too much for many but I entered the night and my feet were steady
but now I sit here in my own tranquility and weep in silence
'cause I just don't care...
~*~
I can't remember the last time I laughed in genuine laughter
the owls pretty close to the most exciting mirth of any creature here
in this chilly night our eyes are meeting
with a greeting I see his stare
I can see my breath before me though it's yet a fortnight til the end of the summer
so I am still in the field of four-leafe clovers
and yet I feel like an outcast on my own land watching, wronged by the man with more influence
looking over to the neighbours laird
~*~
I can remember what I did this morning
I took out my twobarreled rifle and went out pretending to be on a birdhunt
but my dog stayed at home in the cottage
fast asleep without a care
I wonder why we meet so many promising people that open doors and show
the way of life they lead there
they only want to show off their belongings
but the skill you have they see is rare
~*~
I can't remember the last time I felt so alive
and for this day on earth so deeply grateful
as when I walked to the lairds summercastle
and I knew he didn't know what was waiting
for him there
but I went back halfway up the frontyard kicking the gravel til the dogs started howling
the butler opened the door and they looked from the stables
but I was already long gone up the path of the woods
eating one of their gardens pears
~*~
I never been this goddamn unhappy
I sit here with the eerie dismayed gargoyle that has not yet rumbled and a raven is almost my pet now
I feed him from the peartree of the laird
and the moon shows it's shiny crescent silverglare
I can't fathom all the lonely days I live and still no remembrance of that joyful time
the once joyous one, but I will sit here and try in peace with my ravenfriend
and the wolf in the distance that howls...

...and when I do I surely will meet you in the clearing of the woods again...

LPWJ 15/01/09



burlesque


The Pubic Hair

~*~

No, my little pubichair
you know you can't lie'n'dry there
beside my cup or really close,
next minute you're in it
and in my mouth
(oh no!)

On a public chair
a pubic hair
that can't really be mine
beside frizzly like a grizzly bear
(who sat there)
before me
was it her or
that man that are blind

My little pubic hair
do you remember when
you were the first on
my swedish meatballs
and wienerwurst
(not so klein)
well for a 12 year old
and you went to school real proud
that you weren't one of the kids no more
and started flirting with the longhaired teacher
all because of my

little pubic hair
please don't fall off everywhere
when I run naked like a hippie
(well 'cause I am)
under the crescent silver moonlight
I will be good to you I swear
and all the other little hairs
rub the best new Vidal Sassoon shampoo over you
til you glisten and shine!

like the little pubic hairs
on the little pageant girls everywhere
(Miss Hawaiian Tropic)
that's where this stuff was tried out...
you will look like the sunkissed winner there
my little pubichair
just don't sit in my cup when
I drink coffee all the freakin' time

(I hope it was from my beard...)


LPWJ 25/01/09




Bonus: spoken word style

nån rapmetalliknande text från i natt utan varken musik eller Rhyme-or-Reason, rim och reson...mer liknande rim och iRONiSEring...


Flabaghasted (poetryslam)


~*~

My words will suck you dry
like a Jumbojet turned up on high
you're feeling like a Bird in the sky
you're shaking your head and you don't even know why
hear the Turbo-engine roar
as you beg me to stop and then for some more

You're Flabaghasted
totally disgusted
'cause you can't adjust to it
to being Flabaghasted

If you hear a rumble of the Earth
it's just me and a few more of my words
and if something's shaking tonight
and you feel everything's not alright
it's just every little child that exist's
every little sigh
after hearing this

They're Flabaghasted
totally Sugar High busted
'cause they are maljusted to it
to being Flabaghasted

Embrace being Flabaghasted
enjoy what you just heard
after you adjust to it
you want more
to be Flabaghasted
again and make others Flabaghasted
my friend
ain't words Fantastic
depends on how you put them
in a beginning, middle and end
if you're gonna be Flabaghasted
old Rhymes dusted
and here's the new ones for which you Lusted
like waffles with custard
toast with mustard
Flabaghasted!
can you beat that Gusto!?
at this point you must've heard that you're Flabaghasted
and you like it
You Word Nerd
we are Flabaghasted
and we always wanna hear what we never heard
and learn what we never learned
just for the feeling of being
in the Zone, the AHA-moment, of being Flabaghasted
once more
maybe this time won't be exactly like before
and then you're Flabaghasted
for sure
Earmolested - Eyesighttested - Reflex-Wild-Westerned
Flabaghasted

do you wanna hear some more...

the AHA-movement begins behind that Door,
it leads to these words starting all over again...
that hit Humanity in It's Innermost Brightlight Shining Core
Your Ultimate Zen - Four Leaf Clover
First lessons Free - but PLEASE come back for more!

~*~

LPWJ 26/01/09

Expressen eller Aftonbladet? Mintkola eller Lakritskola?

AB II III IV pirate bay (napster deja vu)
DN II III

AB konst tönt som ger konst dålig image, hjälper iaf inte graffittikonsten
DN

AB Obama

AB snutar visar sig vara de svin jag alltid sagt de är, kanske folk fattar snart, bästa häxjakten på åratal mot rätt personer för en gångs skull, men det vet ju vi som växt upp med Leif GWs rapporteringar
DN


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Be well,
LordParzifal