Elokuun viimeiset auringonpaisteet
ainoa hyvä asia kesässä
näistä osaa nauttia.

Voi, osaisinpa piirtää
kimalaiset viimeisillä lennoilla
ennen kuin ne vaipuvat uneen

Pimeä vuodenaika tulossa
näin siitä taas unta
siinä pehmeä lumi peittää aina kaiken.

Taivas usein musta
sininen tai käytetyn harmaa
toisinaan se täyttyy lumiverhosta.

Kun kävelee ulkona
aamulla, päivällä, yöllä.
maailma aina hiljainen,pysähtynyt.

Kaikki elämä toisaalla
jossain unessa, ei täällä
jokin muu vallitsee silloin.

Herään kesken uneni
enkä osaa sanoa
onko aamu, ilta, yö.

Katulampun keltainen valokeila
vajoaa siihen lumiverhoon
kaikkialla pimeä tyhjyys

Pieniä valon ja elämän saarekkeita
niitä on silloin harvassa
Älä eksy pimeään.

Yesterday I ate mushroomsoup with Santa. He said:
Ho my boy. Don't you be messing with the ale before finishing your round.
So he said, and I perceived to be sound. I looked down to my dish, thinking how much I have behind me. I raised my spoon, dripping. I said:
Thou hast wronged me. Thine damp and hazy eyes cannot ransack my soul. But lo and behold. The fog is rising. Through mist and fog I shall ride my mount true, clouds of hatred giving way to my living hearts' sun.
So I stated, leaving the spoon without anyone to wield.

I met a girl at a café.
She waved at me.
I said hey,
and her eyes asked why.
She thought I was going,
before I even came in.
She gave me a sugarcube,
and I shattered like the cube in her mouth.

After a long time,
seeing her in her dress.
I hate to say this.
I never wanted this to happen.
The only thing I have after all,
is my soul and the dreams in there.
Both are only splinters,
now shooting out from a 12 gauge shell.

Violent you said.
You never knew what I was going to say.
It hurts a bit.
I tried to heal you,
it just led to my own peril.
After a long time,
I hope you don't leave my letters unread.

I found a new love.
Her name is Orchid.
She needs me, and I need her.
I built a bunker around her.
But she's only one of the splinters.
I keep finding them, one at a time.
After a long time,
I hope she someday brings them back to me. 

Hei

Minun nimeni on Jaakko ja tämä on blogini. Ole hyvä ja lue ensimmäinen julkaisuni, se on paras teksti. Edelleen.

Morning coffee with Satan

In the corner of my mind, I'm starting to wake up, and senses are starting to adapt to the outer world. Eyelids seem to have something on them, something very heavy, but golden morning light trough window blinds slowly wipes it away. I'ts a crisp Sunday morning, and it seems to be 7 am. Morning dew glitters on the grass, as the Sun climbs up the roofs of the suburban houses. The sky is like an ice blue sheet, with no clouds in sight.

I hear a car through my sleep. I'ts a roaring sound, like a massive heart was there pounding. A 51' Pontiac curves to my yard. I get up.

He steps out of the black muscle car, inhales the cool morning air and fixes his tie. He has dressed in a total black suit except the white shirt, as always. Black leather shoes clap the concrete tiles.

One... two... three... He wants it black, hope I have some sugar left...

...seven, eight... Ten. Oh, the doorbell... It's Satan.

I go to the door, open the lock and leave it like that. I go back to the kitchen. I think he can manage the door on his own.

- David, dear, he says and spreads his hands standing on the doorway, like waiting for a hug.

- Coffee's ready. Sugar? I grunt.

- Why yes David, thank you!

He sits on my little kitchen table, which is right next to window. Cold sunlight brightens the room. I'm pouring the black steaming liquid in his white cup, and he just smiles to me, looking up to me in the eyes, sitting there, sunlight on his face. He says:

- David... So grim this morning. Something on your mind?

I sigh and hand over the sugar to him. - Nothing special.

- No no, David. Tell me. Did you wake up on the wrong foot? A bad dream you had?

- Did you come to sympathize me or to drink coffee?

He leans back, still smiling, and looks at me for a while. Then he turns his face to window.

- ...A damn fine morning, I'd say... I just love it. You could spend a day smelling the crisp, damp morning air.

He flashes a grin to me, showing his bone white teeth. - After even a lovelier night, of course...

I roll my eyes to the weird joke. - Do you like the coffee?

- I just love it, he says slowly and smiling.

I'ts quiet for a while. We sip the coffee, looking through window. Sun is starting to warm up the day. He seems to be content about everything, and he makes it exceptionally clear that he enjoys the coffee with regular "mmh" sounds and other gestures of pleasure after gulping a good sip. Like I would give a crap about anything at this moment...

- Oh... He says after a moment showing his cup. - I'ts empty, and again he smiles. I get up to serve my coffee-lusting guest.

- So David, how's it at work? he asks while I'm pouring more coffee for him.

- Like always. Grey and stable, like always.

- Same to me. You know, grey like, heh heh, skin of a dead man.

A very bad joke. He's older than life itself, but he has the worst sense of humor that I know. But well, he's Satan after all... Maybe it's not his job to make people laugh.

He is looking at me over the table, leaning back comfortably, other arm over the white chairs back.

- What? I ask.

- Oh seriously David... I can see you're not the happy man I know. Something is making you down. Tell me, it makes you feel better.

- Well, it's just a dream... Nothing more.

- A dream, right? Dreams are a thing that I'm envious to men... In sleep, a man doesn't think so much what he's thinking. Subconsciousness is the word, I think. The dreams come from there. So, dreams tell us, I mean you, what you really want. Sometimes, dreams even tell you something you wouldn't like. You see nightmares, or sometimes maybe even something too good to be true... I've read that when men are at war, the soldiers see dreams of peace. All fear has gone and everything is like it was. You would think, that it's very depressing to wake up from that kind of dream to a war...

- Why are you jealous about dreams then?

He lifts his eyebrows, leaning back again - Oh, well... Now that you ask. Sometimes it's so hard to decide, what you want... Coffee's so good, but sometimes you just crave for a nice little cup of tea... Or a cupcake instead of sugar. You can't have them both, you know. Sometimes I spend hours trying to choose between a blueberrycupcake and a lemonpie. Cafés and bistros are like a mousetrap to me...

And again he smiles. - So, if I had dreams, I knew better, what I wanted... He paused - Even if it were... painful.

I roll my eyes again and lean to my hands on the table, sighing.

Silence. There's stains and bread crumbs on the white surface of the table.

- David?

- Yes?

- Was it a bad, or a good dream?

- A good dream.

- Was it about her?

- Well... You could say that, yes.

- How long has it been since then?

- ermm... Maybe a year, no, three years.

Now it's his time to sigh. - David... I can see you're suffering. Why don't you leave it behind?

- I just... I...

- You spend your days working like a maniac, shuffling the papers at the office like a card shark in a casino, and the evenings you just watch TV like your brains were dead. And what do you do at night? Not sleeping that I know. You try, but you can't, because you're too sad.

- And what would you know about it? You're not a man, nor a human.

- I know David, I know, he says. Now he has a more neutral expression on his face.

- Yeah, guess so... I said. - It's just... I can't forget. There are days, when I forget, but in my heart I know that I remember, and that I just want those times back, and then it always comes back to me. I know... But it's so hard. So damn hard. Do you understand? Can you understand? It's like hell wandering through days, hour after hour, day after day, trying to forget, trying to drown everything in coffee and papers and TV. It follows like a shadow. Except it doesn't go away in darkness. I could say it gets worse...

I sigh again. I feel stupid.

- And you should, he says. I lift my eyes and look under my eyebrows at him.

- Should what? I ask.

- Feel stupid.

I roll my eyes right and left. - Now I'm not following you.

Now he leans forward to his other arm on the table, the other resting in the back of the chair. Something changes in his face. He smiles, but it's different now.

- I'm very old, like you thought a while ago, he starts.

Now I know what it is. His face is like a grinning skull. He's grinning to me, a ghoulish, hideous grin. He's talking to me, and somehow I can't avoid listening.

- I've seen very much, David. I've seen millions and millions again die in pain and sorrow. I've seen death and misery. I've heard thousands of men and women scream in horrible pain. I've seen murders, torturing, wars, plagues, people dying in each others arms, swords in their chest, bullets piercing them, families, friends, lovers losing each other. I've seen unspeakable hate destroying all love and beautiful. I could say I have an advanced syllabus of pain, with accessory courses of misery and sorrow.

He moves his other arm to the table. - But today it's different... You western, civilized people... Young and healthy, sane people, you seem to like suffering... You have it all but... You drown yourself in your pain, depriving yourself from other people or even hurting them with your behavior, making you feeling even worse. I'm not the one to judge anyone, but I think it's terribly, terribly wrong. Maybe it's just the spirit of time, or the way you were raised, I'm not here to tell you the reason. But people used to be strong and they enjoyed life, you know?

Words started to come through his teeth, as his face started to have an angrier expression - And you seem to have a lack of an ability to get a grip of yourselves. You know it's painful, but you just keep doing it. You suffer and you cry to the world from your hideout "look at me". To me it's the same. In this world where you live in, only the laws of physics matter. Molecules and atoms have just changed place over time. I don't care if your whole world burnt away, it's just matter. But in this world, where you live in, what you just happen to have...

He leant back a little - To a being, who doesn't care about any of your mortal worries, it's so nice... To see the Sun rise... To see those little diamonds upon that freshly moved lawn... To have. This. Little cup, of so warm...

- So tasty.

- So black, coffee. David. Life, is just a coincidence.

He came very close to my face over the table.

- So what are you whining about, David?