i made the most of all the sadness

(slow dancing in a burning room - john mayer)

gronnen t at eg e så glade i musikk som eg e, e ford eg elske ord. ord e så fint, for me ord kan du sei så lide du bare vil å alligavel rokka sjelen hvis du bare bruge rett. å for dåkke som ikkje vett d, elle klare trekka samenhengen her, så e eg og veldig glade i poesi. musikk e jo poesi, bare me lydeffekt. å kanskje di tingå som e aller vanskeligast å sei elle snakka om her i livet, e d som holde papirindustrien ved like. eg e nok den personen eg vett om som e dårligast på å snakka om akkorat di vanskeligaste tingå, egentlig alle tingå. å då gjer d meg stor trøst å veda at någen andre allerede har satt ord på d. å at di ordå fins på papir.

is only words kanskje du suns, men d ekje d. ord e den tingen som har mest makt i heile verden. ord makes or breaks ka som helst. å di menneskene som e mest kjente i heile verden, e kjente for akkorat d, ord. ord for meg e som vatn e for ein plante. eg vett ikkje om någe aent eg lige så godt som eg lige ord.

å her e någen ord av federico garcía lorca. sko ønska eg hadde sånne ord..

Night of Sleepless Love

The night arched over us. The moon was full.
And you, while I gave in to tears, were laughing:
a god in mocking glory, while my pleas
were mortal moments and doves bound in chain.
The night flowed under us. Crystal of pain,
you wept in waves from fathomless, far seas.
They stand so still, stones of my agonies;
your heart is sand that shifts and drifts apart.
Dawn yoked and yielded us upon the bed,
our mouths pressed open round the frozen spout
of blood which overflows but won't run out.
And the sun slipped through the shuttered balcony,
the coral came to life with branches spread
like open arms above my shrouded heart.

Love Awake and Love Asleep

You'll never know my vigil and my love,
sheltered in my soul, sleeping by my side.
I found you crying like a cornered creature
when you were at the sword-point of their voice.
Law violating flesh and stars alike
now trespasses my heart and preys on pain,
and tongues that sharpen at our backs have clipped
the wings your spirit once spread in its pride.
A mob has gathered, trampling down the garden,
waiting to watch my frenzy and your corpse
dragged by green-maned horses fast as light.
But sleep, sweetheart, they won't disturb your dreams.
Hear my blood strung like strings on violins!
See how they wait and watch all through the night!