I don't know what to call this poem

Sun sanoista paistaa pelko
Lauseet valuu sun huulilta hitaasti ja sun silmissä makaa tuo kevyt kauhu
Enkä ole varma onko se koska sä olet syyllinen vai koska sä näet ne aaveet, jotka jahtaa mua öissä aamunkajoon asti
Mä haluaisin kertoa sulle monta olutta mä olen juonut ja montako tupakkaa olen polttanut
Vaan koska mä tiedän miten sä et pitäisi siitä

Onhan tänään torstai

Mutta mä en ole varma
Onko tämä sitä mitä halusin
Rakkautta, joka on kaiken ulottumattomissa
Johon etäiset huudot ei kuulu
Eikä syysmyrskyt tartu
Ja joista kesäkuun pisarat valuu pois kuin sorsan selkää pitkin

Mä halusin sut heti ja mä pelkään ettet sä vieläkään tiedä
Koska mulla ei ole aikaa tai sydänjuuria joita asetella pitkin sun lakanoita sunnuntaisin

Tämän nikotiinisumun takaa mä toivon,
Että sä muistit ne salaisuudet joita kuiskin sun korvalehdille
Ja että sä rakastat mua siten miten mä ansaitsen

Mä makaan sun hengityksen alla ja voisin vannoa, että sä tiedät mikä seisoo värisevien jalkojen varassa mun äänihuulien reunamilla

Valmiina hyppäämään keskelle tätä korkeaa taivasta,
Mutta pudotus on kovin pitkä ja peiton alla mä kerroin miten mä pelkään osuvani noihin kivisiin kallioseinämiin

Kuitenkin
Tuon vapaapudotuksen pohjalla on rikasta multaa, johon mun olisi turvallista laskea juuret
Ja käsivarsiesi vahvat marmoriset pilarit, jonka ympärille mun ajatukset voisivat kasvaa kaikissa vihreän sävyissä

Kuin nuo pyhät kullatut kupolit, sun jokainen henkäys mun ihoa vasten tuntuu siunatulta
Ja mä kannan sun ääntä vasten mun rintaa tämän aatteen nimissä,
Jossa turvallisuus asuu tuossa pienessä saunamökissä, missä sun isän vanhat vinyylit soivat hitaina pitkin hirsiseiniä

I wasn't there

The price of my pain is threehundred dollars

I blow smoke up in the air

dollar after dollar

until my throat aches

I sit around at landmarks of the city
making tourists uncomfortable by my teary and desperate presence
I try to lock eyes with people on the subway
to make someone see me in this city where I've learned to hide

I spin my index finger in amber waves in my glass
and flirt with men at the bar

that'll be seven dollars, ma'm

until I feel hazy and get the courage to finally go home

And yet I am not numb enough to look you in the eye

but I have no more cash

You look at me and tell me it's time to be past this

because our lives are still the same

So we go back to work,

play board games at the bar with your friends and

we share the covers in the bed

where nothing is the same

You could've chosen anyone but you chose me

So many people I've let tiptoe through my poems
let them spend the night in those words I've written for them
and numerous times I've sworn hand on my chest
that they were the most worthy creatures to lock behind the curly bars of my handwriting

the thing is

For all those times I've feared that was really it;
that my love was something you could release with a simple gesture
or by a human mistake
of  leaving the gate open and it would run off like a wild animal
desperate for fresh prey

You let my heart run free
but before I got even halfway
I realized I've never felt as safe as locked up under your sheets at night
and that no one has ever been so worthy of my words than you

because there's nothing more lyrical and poetic
than the madness you have driven me into
where diving from a cliff feels safer than falling asleep to the sweet memory of crashing waves

Different worlds

I carry my heavy body from my sheets in the morning

with such hope and defiance
that's only held by the mountains that surround our city

in these recently icebound mornings

I'm amazed we're this brave
and we're going to share the meaning for 'home'
along with forks, sheets, the sink, the morning light flowing from the windows on Sundays, the house chores, morning kisses, knives, fights and lost gloves

I place each limb precisely around the idea of you in my bed

and fall out of my strength for tonight

and with a mothers dilemma

she removes the tears from my eyes that are going to fly her daughter miles away

Give me something to return to in your heart

I am a house
young build but old at heart
so we can spend Sunday mornings rummaging through the dusty corners and get excited exploring the attic
and find more surprises to complement the others already found
lying around between the hardcover books, scruffy stuffed animals and rusty candlesticks

Who would've known it needed just some containers,
the right kind of uncertainty and your practical mind to
make me cook meals and love unconditionally

We don't sleep
but pretend to do so
but it's hard to sleep with the wind of change in our sheets

I need your calm footsteps on my creaky floors
to carry soft carpets in
so we can sink our feet into the mellow warmth of silence
and you'll make fun of my wrinkly and crooked grandma toes

Just keep laughing and tell me you haven't given up on us just yet

Hyperballad

In my mornings I live like a blind man
and carry my fingers around your body up down up back to the soft skin behind your ear towards the bones of your hips and back to touch the slight dimple where the curve of your nose ends

Waiting for you to tell me it's enough
but you never do

The reason everything from my cuticles to my light wrists slither on your leather shell every morning
without exception
is just so I can memorize every single bit of you
before I must carry my own weight away
so those three white metallic eagles can fly me across the seas
to the bed I haven't slept in for 358 days

You kiss my lust out of it's sleep to drape it over your pelvis

Boats stay silent and still
surrounded by wandering waves
before my intoxicated and damp eyes
and I hope you are going to love me more than all of those arches of bent down spines
cracking underneath my collapsed sanity

I'll find a map and draw a straight line; over rivers, farms and state lines; the distance from A to where you'd be; it's only finger-lenghts that I see

Funny thing is
in a couple of months I'm going to carry my things into your apartment
but instead of staying it is going to be a sign of leaving

and for 17 days you'll share your bed with me
and I'll make my morning coffee in your kitchen
and make a mess in your living room
while listening to your roommates indie rock cds
kiss you to sleep
and wake you up with my snoring in the middle of the night
wake up early to have a shower with you before you leave to work
but crawl back to bed when you close the door

I am mostly just teary
you're trying to stay strong just to keep me sane

hush hush hush below my auricle

and your roommate is just a ghost wandering around his own apartment
without knowing where to go or where to be

And in the end all three of us pack our coffee mugs and couches and books and sex toys and loud speakers and passports and the microwave
and walk out from that apartment where we spent complete
3 days of lust
2 days of peace
9 days of desperation
1 day of remorse
2 days of escapism
all of them wrapped in insubstansial love and ignorance

and I'll hold the plane tickets 4675.2 miles away from you

If you let me here's what I'll do; I'll take care of you

"What time should I set the alarm for?"

"Don't bother
Let's just stay in bed tomorrow and be in love" you say

and silently I agree
and kiss you goodnight
while the morning sun already burns my eyelids

Summer's in the air baby, heavens in your eyes

Your body is your temple
they say

but as his arms bend over my being
I've never felt that a simple touch could be so sacred

He hands me a beer with that peculiar grin
and I slide my fingers under his shirt
and as I bathe in the warmth of his chest
I swear I could speak in tongues or walk on water
just by listening my senses rage

For this I am sure
his body is my temple
where I immolate my sanity
but somehow I'm in peace

If home is where your heart is then we're all just fucked

"Can you spare a dollar, miss?"

I sure can, sir
because just like you
my heart is homeless and starving

I gaze towards the mountains next to these busy streets
and I wish I could stand as tall and strong and sure

Belong sounds like a strong word
but what if
here in your arms is where I should rest my head for rest of the nights to come?

It is peaceful in the deep / Cathedral where you cannot breathe

My eyes are wandering in your ceiling
that sound like rushing rivers

And all I'm left to do is
to make the heavy choice to stay here
in your arms as my heart is drowning into those busy waters
but you know what it's like under the waves
don't you, my sweet

Even in the heaviest storm
it is calm under the surface, you say
but my limbs are tearing apart from every chord
when this current is pulling me towards your warm body

you are silent and still
tied over my chest with a Sailor's knot

secretly I whisper to the air
"please never let me leave"

By tomorrow we'll be lost among the leaves

Päivien ajan olen yrittänyt kirjoittaa tämän ylös
Olen yrittänyt englanniksi, ylösalaisin, väärinpäin, sarkastisesti, totuudenmukaisesti, evoluutioteorian mukaan sekä freudilaisittain

mutta miten tahansa minä kierrän ympärilläsi
(minä olen korppikotka ja sinä vain makaat makaat makaat)
eniten minua kuristaa parasta ennen -päiväys,
jonka minä tietoisesti jätän tarkistamatta

ja minä voin pahoin

Kaiken se kestää, kaikessa uskoo, kaikessa toivoo, kaiken se kärsii
Hän sanoo hymyillen
mutta minun rakkauteni antaa ylen
kun herään öisin ja voisin vannoa että olet siinä

Päivien ajan olen yrittänyt sanoa,
että minä tarvitsen sinua

You're my king and I'm your lionheart

Believe me,
I've tried

stop lying awake until my sheets crawl up around my ankles
becoming wrinkly waves drowning me into the horror of
becoming something I've never been before

not by choice
but simply by the infatuation of breaking into a boat
just because "I wanted to steal a kiss from you on a boat"
and you don't own one

So I rather just keep on

sitting here and watching you talk about streams
not listening a word you say
because I rather watch your lips move
and listen the voice flow like rivers, not streams

streams seem too hurried

Believe me,
I've tried

interrupt you and rush into words telling you how his fingers were digging into my thighs and everything I could think about was your unshaved chin on my chest in the morning before you wake up and force me to get up to take a shower with you before we fall back under the covers and spend the whole day wrapped around each other without seeing the daylight in the whole day and I know we haven't made any promises related to you and me as me being yours and you sharing your bed with just me but even so - I couldn't go through with him having his fingers digging into my thighs

because I really really really like your bed

Would you make me a cup of tea to open my eyes in the right way?

"It's different. it is..."
"intimate" you say

I wonder if I start
brushing my hair hundred strokes a day
showering in slow-motion
stop using the public transportation
kissing you slowly
cook something really time consuming
sleep an hour less every night

could I get the time slow down so I could have you a little bit longer

You told me you'd take me to the ocean
and I wish to tell you how poets tend to refer themselves as the ocean at least once
and how I could be your ocean because I know how much you love fresh water
I'd promise to be as restless as unpredictable as pure
so I just say

"Yes, intimate"
translation:
you are the best and worst thing ever happened to me

Loving him was like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street

You're going through a mid-life crisis
"you're like my sports car, you know"
I brush my fingers through your hair
quickly
as I'm trying to choose between sanity and rapture

So here I stand
(knee)deep in shit
afraid of the streetlights
understanding why my mother always hoped I would get my fathers dark brown eyes

you make me tea
because you still haven't bought the coffee I asked you to
and you decide to take your sports car for a ride
and engine humming I close my eyes
and I hope I'm going to be happy someday
in the same way I am here my head on your chest

i wanna wake up drunk when i wake up on the right side of the wrong bed

En muista miten tätä peliä pelataan

Sinä kokkaat minulle aamupalaa
ja minä syön sen vaikka inhoan munakasta

Minä huudan veljellesi, joka humalassa yrittää kouria minua kun kävelytän häntä suoraa linjaa
hän nauraa
sinä naurat
minä nauran rikkinäisissä kengissäni ja kompastelen irti roikkuvaan pohjaan

Sinä et anna minun polttaa ulkona sateessa
vaikka yritän vakuuttaa sinua siitä, miten paljon rakastan sadetta
”poltan sisällä koko ajan”
”mutta et sinä polta”
”en tupakkaa”
ja niin sinä kannat minut humalaisena sänkyyn
enkä minä nuku silmänräpäystäkään koko yönä

Sinä ajat kamalaa autoa
se on enemmän laatikko, kuin auto
”ensi kerralla laitan sinut kävelemään”

minä huutelen sopimattomuuksia
ja sinä ajat nauraen pois

Minä en muista miten tätä peliä pelataan

I don't really want to know what's good to me. God's dead I said: "Baby that's alright with me"

(Sometimes you wish you wrote a certain song. Today I wish I wrote Lana Del Rey's Gods and Monsters. Freaking genious.)

You got that medicine I need
Fame, liquor, love, give it to me slowly
Put your hands on my waist, do it softly
Me and God we don’t get along, so now I see

No one’s gonna take my soul away
I'm living like Jim Morrison
Headed towards a fucked up holiday
Motel, squeeze, squeeze, and I’m singing:
"Fuck yeah give it to me, this is Heaven, what I truly want."
It's innocence lost
Innocence lost



oh ps.
Seuraa blogiani Bloglovinin avulla

"Hating him didn't make me feel any better so I had to try forgiveness"

Se tyttö nyki mua hihasta
kadulla, jossa oli kirkkaita valoja ja korkeita taloja
se kysyi neuvoa ja minä vein sen pois

Se tyttö puhui hassusti
mutta katsoi kärsivällisesti kun minä join oluen ja toisen ja kuudennen
sillä oli lasissa omenamehua ja se osti thaimaalaisia hedelmiä kioskilta

Se tyttö tiesi kaiken surusta
ja baarijakkataltaan opetti mulle jotain kovin suurta elämästä,
josta minä luulin tietäväni kaiken

Se tyttö lähetti mulle postikortin San Franciscosta
ja hymyilin kateellisena kun mun taivas sataa
mutta hänen hiuksille laskeutuu aurinko

Passion feeds lust when the trust is questioned

ja jotenkin mä vain toivoisin,
että sä makaisit tuntemattomalla sängyllä
ja suutelisit hänet tunnottomaksi

(itsesi tunteettomaksi edes päiväksi tai yöksi jotta sä olisit edes vähän syntinen koska sun kipeän lojaalit silmät oksettaa eikä mua vaan jaksa kiinnostaa sun naiivi rakkaus ja kun sä huudat sun uskollisuutta mun kuuroille korville mun tekee mieli vain vetää pää täyteen viinaa ja suudella tuntemattomia vain siksi että sä voisit vihata mua vihdoin)

kai mä vaan odotan
että joku rakastaa mua siten
tarttuu mua olkapäistä
ja paiskaa mut tiiliseinää vasten
ja mä itken ja nauran tai jotain

se mies sanoo;
nyt riittää
minä vien sinut kotiin