03 febrúar 2009

A poem to his patients (working on it)

Tell them about the woman in Iceland
who landed on earth,
by crawling from the sea,
drove to the vulcano
to masturbate in the lava-field,
danced around the rocks,
dig a hole in the ground
to make a space for love,
had some more coffee and sigarette,
put flowers into her hair
so the angels would recognize her,
went into the graveyard
to have a proper soil.

Drove the road with elves,
into bleeding madness,
recovering by getting worse,
counted on ideas in her head
because everything was strange,
searching and searching,
listening to the vulcano breath,
talking to mountains, crying there,
throwing her self into glacier-river
so the birds would take her away,
finally seeing her childrens eyes,
finally solution, some lithium,
straight from the earth,
and the inner wound
started healing.

2 ummæli:

Kristín Bjarnadóttir sagði...

think I know that woman ... and when she is happy the mountain are; and when she gets mad, the rocks ar crying
with greetings and love from another cost

Nafnlaus sagði...

thank you woman. woman.