Patti stepped out of the tent Into the sunlight The day was dawning The moorcock on the heather was startled It was as if it would cry Go back! Go back! There was mist on the heather The mist was rising Robert walked through the mist towards the tent He walked slowly, gracefully, elegantly Robert was beautiful He was the most beautiful man Patti knew She thought of the first time they kissed They were in her room Patti was sitting with her back against the bed Robert was lying on the bed Patti told him about all the books she had She introduced him to the beautiful books that were in her bookshelf And he wasn't impressed He just looked at her And then he kissed her. They first met at the beach Patti asked Robert if he wants to go on a mushroom trip with her And he said yes. Patti looked at him now, walking towards her in the mist He came from his excavation He will say something to her In just a moment Now she just looks at him Or is it really him? She felt nervous When she feels n...

One day Jimmy Joe decided, he doesn't need their organization. He had shined their shoes He had washed their feet He had moved their mountains What was done was done What was won was won And what was lost was lost and gone forever He walked into the tavern He tipped his hat to the lady A whiskey was brought to him He sat on the stool He asked himself Is there a feeling that has never been felt? Is everything you can experience recorded out there? In novels, songs, poetry? Why do some people die so young? Why do others keep on living even if they wish to go? What is grief?  If I grief one thing, does it make me feel less love for another? How many tears fit into the canal? His son had answered: Two. Is there life on Mars? Is there life after death? Is there life in another solar system? Why is there life on Earth? Is there life on Earth? Am I alive? When do I know that I'm dead? Do we live again? Have I lived before? What is the meaning of life? Will I be happier tomorrow than I...

Life Isn't about finding yourself Or finding anything Life Is about creating yourself And creating things Tim stared into space. He was high as the clouds. All responsibilities didn't matter for a while.  He just wanted to be high. Life had been tough on him. Normal, but tough. So many questions and no answers. So many answers but no questions. So much life and so little love. Love in abundance but no one who listens. Karaoke but nobody really listening to him sing. His friend Tash asked him to join the stage so they could sing a song in Spanish. Tim didn't know the song and didn't know any Spanish. He felt humiliated. Tash said he was fat. That didn't feel nice. They got drunk on Tequilas. "Don't fall asleep in the pub", said Tash. But what did it all really matter. Tim wasted his time on Tash. Tash didn't love him, she only cared about herself. She never remembered anything Tim had said. I was born in Blackwood, I grew up on a farm. We had mustan...

One last look at the adorable scene in the delivery room The Golden Hour Baby snuggled at mothers chest, father kneeling beside them Adoring and in love with the new life created The doula waves her hand Sends her love their way And opens the door Steps out into the hallway The bright light blending her sight She passes the midwives, the doctors and staff Heads down the elevator, passes the cafeteria filled with chattering people Nears the exit of the hospital Passes the children's and youth's emergency department An old grey-haired man standing against a wall Shouting, crying, nothing there to comfort him But his wife An old lady herself, patting his back Nothing there to take a lost life back How fine the line, between life and death Thinks the doula and drowns her thoughts with loud music in her ear. Rock bottom's where we live And still we dig these trenches To bury ourselves in them Backs breaking under tension For far too long these voices Muffled by distances It'...

A group of friends of all trades Rubbing each other's backs Barbecues on chilly spring evenings Talking about life and death Admiring the endless light Listening to Mumford and Sons Dancing naked in the forest Pure serenity Whiskey in a hip flask Someone takes out a guitar Someone falls in love Staying awake until it gets light again Someone needs to stay sober to get us back home All good things come to an end Shattered around the country, the world We collectively separately think of those times We all agree They were good. But it was not your fault but mine And it was your heart on the line I really fucked it up this time Didn't I, my dear?

Eamonn looked down upon his hands He had to admit - he very much disregarded, yes even detested himself After he had spoken, he started to hate every word he said, Nothing of it was pleasant and it was as if he heard himself speak rather than producing speech himself He used to consider himself rather amusing, he could recall people laughing at his humorous jokes These days he tried to be funny But nothing he said was considered hilarious in any way He might have as well remained quiet Sometimes when people started to laugh after he spoke it was rather they were laughing at him than laughing at his jests What a miserable life he lead Once there was Apple Apple loved to get high with Eamonn They'd sit around the campfire with all their friends and pass the pipe around Apple and Eamonn dreamed of poems and prayers and promises They dreamed of having four children Their names be Rosemary, Sage, Parsley and Thyme But it all came different As it is in life Things turn out different than...

Time seems to be linear When I was sixteen, "Seventeen forever" was my number one song These days I can't stand listening to it Nonetheless, they were right We won't be seventeen forever Sometimes we can't return to being seventeen because we're gone And we're not there to wonder whether we could return Friends, partners, offspring, family..  There is nothing and nobody that we really own Everything and everyone is on loan There is nothing we can hold on to Only barely ourselves Life is hard Just for some it is harder than for others Some have to go through a living hell And won't get out of it While others go through smaller living hells And come out of them stronger and healthier There is nothing we can take for granted Still we are full of pretentious confidence Perhaps this being a mode of survival It laces up the throats of others What have we learned? Here and now is what matters It's really all we have Apart from the memory of being seventee...