A lecture about slowworms

There are all kinds of snakes
iron-fisted chauvinist snakes who like to beat up women
grass snakes who guard the yard
“I bask in the sun on the rock – Oh, have a good day” vipers
snakes in Chinese zodiac, who don’t trust us tigers
and that’s probably why we don’t fully trust them,
there are rattling, rustling, very slowly groveling snakes
there are lying, sadistic, fascist snakes
there are snakes in lamb costumes, a snake replacing the rabbit in the magician’s hat
supper snakes for honey badgers, a pet snake wrapped around your neck,
life sentenced snakes in vitrines,
there are revolutionary snakes, human beings with snake tongues, snakes with human tongues (listen)
there are revolutionary snakes, human beings with snake tongues, snakes with human tongues

There are snakes who peddle apples
bush snakes around rods
one waiting with you in the morning
at the bus stop for the first bus to come.
There are snakes who poison your consciousness
snakes that read your mind and tell you that you are stupid.
There are snakes that look so cute and smooth
but inside they are the illest always looking for a better party no matter the price.
There are snakes that never exuviate their own skin
snakes on a plane, trying to get to know
Samuel L. Jackson, there are snakes that don’t
know how to ring the doorbell, so they come to your home through the toilet,
snakes that understand to watch out for you because you look like an owl

There are so many kind of snakes
the ones who love someone so much
that they would cut off their poison teeth for them and
even though they are afraid of light, they would come out of their holes.
There are snakes that have emotion disabilities, snakes that have very bad emotion disabilities
and very thin-skinned snakes,
anacondas, cobras, kraits, mambos, and then there are even
smooth snakes, sea snakes, dragons, snakes that would like to walk
but a slowworm
is not a snake but a lizard
it can drop it’s tail and live up to the age of 30,
a slowworm is not a snake

(For the Finnish original click here.)

Everything was fine

how can I love with all my heart
without hurting my feelings
even my speak compared to my silence
feels like I'm biting your tongue
sometimes I thought I had lived the right way
but it looks like there where another emotions on display
my computer ran the wrong operation system
I should've shut it down but instead
I gladly went and showed it off to everyone
dumb, dumber, Juho, go drown in your swamp
propose to yourself 'cause you are
the companion you've deserved, you swamp monster
this is going in to hatred against yourself
it's so hard to meet the shitty guy in you
forgetting the moment when you didn't want to see
when the eyes are shut everything is dark
and it gets more darker
every minute you linger the lock on your eyelids
inside the head there was a beauty and an eyesore
couldn't even interpret himself
if I could erase everything
I'd press the cancel button like for two years in a row
because I wasn't a ring on a finger
I was hands around your neck
I offered a candle to be carried by hands
burned it to the heart
and left it alone to heal

when the eyes were open, it all just happened
like when           it all just happened
didn't go for yes or no, only for what happened
garbage bags under the eyes and actions unhandled

I shattered your presumptions
shouted all the deaf people near-by away
if today for once the porridge would taste good
but no, I spat in it before I put it on stew
true feelings are covered with this toy pillow on my face
I suppress the burning reek inside me and breath out flowers
but they are ugly, though I said they are beautiful
like a pictures of you
the walk behind my talk was limping
but you believed me, you had your screws loose
and I bolted a new nut on your skin
I offered powder to cover the wounds
and when you wanted attention, just a hug
you said that I was soft like cream
but I think I was a finger that was picking blood from your nose

when the eyes were open, it all just happened
like when           it all just happened
didn't go for yes or no, only for what happened
garbage bags under the eyes and actions unhandled

I was a night without sleep
I was a fucked up day job
I was a mouth that eats the soul
I was the fist that beats you to the ground

I moved in with you

I moved in with you even though you didn't ask me to
in the morning I watch from the bed you dressing up
I do the dishes even though you didn't ask me to
and I do them even when you say ”I'll fucking do it myself!”
I'll buy you necklaces you don't wear
I'll buy us a shared burial plot
I'll carve to a tree that I love you
I'll carve to a tree that you love me
I moved in with you even though you didn't ask me to
you are the reason I won't get fed up with life
I always forget everything you say
to make sure I won't get bored with you
I'd be with you even if you'd have to stay in bed and I'd have to take care of you
on weekday mornings I'd polish my bike to take you to work
if you'd feel bad I might ask ”Do you need a comforting heart next to your own?”
or then I'd let the best poem flow from my pen
and you say I can't tell bad from good
and you say I can't tell bad from good
and you say I can't tell bad from good
and you say I can't tell evil from good
I follow you in the city and memorise your every move
and when you're not around I'll rewind the tape back and forth
I take pictures of you when you sleep without telling you
and when you're at work, I put your clothes on and imagine how it feels to be you
I read your diary like you're writing it to me
and make additions about how much you love me
when you get a restraining order I know you're doing it for love
you just feel too good when I'm close to you
and when you threaten me with a baseball bat and tell me to fuck off
I know you really just want me to fuck you hard
because when I do it, you act reluctant
tears fall from your eyes
because you feel so good,
while you're dying
I listen to your last heartbeat with my ear on your chest
and the next night after your funeral
I bury myself alive in the coffin with you,
I moved in with you even though you didn't ask me to

Hair in front of my eyes

Your hair waves in front of my eyes so that I can't see anything else
they are the curtain
you're the play
I'm the enthusiastic crowd mesmerised crowd
that would like to slip a note to the whisperer:
would you go on a date with me
to the world where the stars are shining brighter than the sun
where the sough of the trees mutes the airplanes
but the interlude comes before the beginning
you disappear in to the back room
but your hair waves in front of my eyes
they smell like I feel like washing my teeth
with the first buds of the Spring
and slur in the middle of it like a bear
if this wind gets any stronger
your hair will soon be in my mouth
but it gets calmer,
I'd like to kiss your hair
each one individually

I fantasize you in the shower
the shampoo runs down your spine, a rapid river
eyes closed you dive through the waterfall,
it's way too much for me
and when I get back to my seat
your hair waves in front of my eyes
I'd like to grab them, pull you into my lap
and take care of you like you were a tiny mouse
but then the play starts
the stage gets full of roles with no performers
they all yell on top of each other while
they are pulling your hair down with their teeth to make room
the set pieces are slowly coming into light
it is midnight there and many windows burn with fluttering candles
from these dark apartments
people come down to the street hanging on to ropes made of your hair
they end up having a quiet conversation
under the darkened street lights
whether there's time
for a bedtime story tonight

The flying fish

the words were beautiful coming out from other peoples mouths
refined slender with the tip of the tongue
in mind shattered to pieces was held what was lost for ages
that was ment to roast even the raw through the dust into something that could handle the rape
but the sentences were ugly, didn't dare to hear them
rough without smoothness along with to endure
hair from the legs had to be taken
didn't see the razorblades dive into the forest by the road
but the frost spoke to the legs so I guess he had to fl
frosty wings rustled as they whispered for help
the feet fell from under when they thought they were to blame
the heart before so soft, now is just an organ
and because he was scared addorsed
he took off with his' dorsal fins

in the middle of the birds, there is a flying fish
give it a kiss, it will eat your lips
when you hear the flap of its wings
scream your guts out: Why the fuck are you coming here for

in the middle of the birds there is a flying fish
give it a kiss, it will eat your lips
when you hear the flap of its wings
scream your guts out: What what

a surface where waves are made solely by hands is unnecessary
or the one breathing towards it gets an edict that is cursing: I'm gonna do it by myself!
with the photoflashes of the sky I'm aiming to fill up this disco
where I used to sit in the only dark corner and throw myself with other's stale stares
I hauled even the lost pairs of the socks in to myself and wondered why they wouldn't fit in my hands
oh you poor, poor, poor boy, everything is too hard
I swam when I saw mirages of warning signs on the beach
I saw that the slopes were slippery so I carried the skis on my shoulder
the light from the lighthouse got caught in the net of my eye
the spider ate the catch
but you know it's eyes
the light from the lighthouse got caught in the net of my eye
the spider ate the catch
but you know it's eyes, they were so sad

in the middle of the birds there is a flying fish
give it a kiss, it will eat your lips
when you hear the flap of its wings
scream your guts out: Why the fuck are you coming here

in the middle of the birds there is a flying fish
give it a kiss, it will eat your lips
when you hear the flap of its wings
scream your guts out: What what

looks like the last statement will remain in words that mean nothing
into sentences that don't try to say anything that they should
it'd be easy to copy, take a look at the faces, see what is easily heard as beautiful)
prepare forehand and chuckle about who's gonna win the singing contest
again the feeling that no one is listening , it's because you cannot speak
turning joys into sorrows and eating indigestion for breakfast
grey rumours inside the head because the lies are black
free the world when you've made chains of light to yourself
not enough traces, not enough rudiments -
don't really need your explanations
don't want to be cut in half but is slowly cracking
and the blood that's draining from the wounds is disgusting
because they're only leaking when the heart wasn't at home

(Usually you need more heavy explanations for that)

Playmobil man

Playmobil man bought a piece of land by a lake with his swimming trunks on
he hired an Estonian guy to cut down all the trees, another one to haul them away
and a third one to plant a hundred year old lichen-bearded birch in the middle of the yard
so he could rest under it's shade exhausted
and wait for the helicopters to bring his playmobil house.
So to avoid the boredom
he hired some unemployed to carry lap-sized rocks in a circle around the tree
and told them once in a while to change direction,

the town councillors were happy
when Playmobil man even invited them to his sauna
in turns they patted him gently with a back whisk until the corners of their mouths popped
Playmobil man's Thai wife served the men refreshments and lighted up cigars
while the men were admiring Playmobil man's brand new boat,
that just barely fit into the lake.

I write

I write when I'm leaving
I write when I return
when I once again pack my back and continue the journey

I write from the destination
that I'm still on the halfway road
I write when it hurts so bad that there are no words to describe it
when I'm so grateful that it's impossible to point out
when I try to understand, when I try to overstand
when I try to be good, when I try to stop, when I try to accept

I write when I can't open my mouth but I have to say
so my heart wouldn't burst, paralyze, freeze
I write
when I've managed to open my mouth but haven't been able to dress up my thoughts in the right words
I write when I'm so sorry that I can't say it
and don't really feel like writing it down

I write when I'd like to hug the world but my hands aren't long enough
I write towards the morning, not to make the time pass –
the night flows into the ink, finds deeper words
not like the daylight that doesn't care about the mistakes I write so I could learn from them
to remember how I've been and who I've turned into
I'll write the last words when all has come to an end
I write because I've decided to write
and can no longer do anything even less

I write when I yearn for a lap
when I yearn away from a lap
when I yearn in a lap

I write when I yearn for loving, for love
I write when I need a hug
and when I need to relate
when I'm afraid that I'd have to start it all over again, I write
and start from the middle of the story when the steepest hills have already been climbed
and when my eyes are closing I stop writing
I've said enough this time around, I dream about writing
when I wake up I write again
to make everything start, to make myself share, to keep on going
I write badly ugly beautifully aggrressively quickly slowly
over under crookedly straight, leaning piles of paper on the floor
I write so I end up last in the race, so that the paper sucks me in
I write until my hand hurts so I forget what I've written
then I can say it all again, change my point of view
I write even if it was pointless even if all I said was bullshit
I write and hope to find the field where the herd lives
I write i.e. about my problems, like
I got binoculars
that always show you the sunset

I write even if I'd have the sky as a roof and a carpet for a bed
I write to keep myself alive, I write my shoes on and off
I write myself down to the bench, up from the bench
I write myself alive, dead, I write because I'm alive
I write because I have to, like I have to breath
I write at home, at my friend's, in a train, in a bus
I write to a notebook, to a book, on a computer, behind an inspection fee sheet
I write on your hand when we meet
I write on your back when we hug
I write on your lips when we kiss
I write because I have to and have the responsibility to
like an airplane without wings
which is obliged to a forced landing