With two faces in the whirlpool of a skyscraper,
silence being a strange concept.
Painted lips on the walls,
the gaze searching for an exit.
Lull me mum, lull me,
I still believe in tomorrow.
The fire leaves only ashes.
Before the Helsinki Book Fair I’ll show you how to circle publishers’ catalogs. Colorful catalogs are not just waste, but can be used for artistic purposes, as I did. I made four collages with a size of 20 x 20 cm, style being cut & glue. The finished collages still received a photo manipulation. They inspired my blog friend Esther Helmiä to write a poem on each.
Runot suomeksi täällä.
I run with winds of achieving behind.
I cry alone to the dark: I don’t manage, I don’t manage!
No one answers.
Colorful walls are my friends
and those who tap me on the back:
Try try, be better, be good!
Be beautiful, don’t be you, don’t be!
The steps mix blood and sweat,
but my soul is already detached.
You are so silent, illusion, illusion.
A ragged smoke curtain a protection against the tough world.
Your beauty is exhaled from the rocks, from the deep caverns.
Have you already decomposed or is this a hallucination?
With pink eyeglasses on my nose
I’ve lost yesterday.
How daring, you would say
handing me poppies as breakfast.
Blood still flowing
gives color to the walls.
I see a drunken cat with the eyes of my soul,
it lives at its own pace, does not care.
I hear steps from the street,
the pain labours in the waves of suffering souls.
There is no one to see
who would gather hearts.
Maybe it's too mundane
in this all-allowing world.
I’m not able to reach your hand anymore.