Eyes wild, ringed red, gazing out of the page --

   the watcher over the wilderness
   does not sleep.

In the forest primeval
   there is a glade — the real world
   of our filth bleeds in
   drop by drop, reddening
   the sky, and Öli
       witnesses all.

Haunted by apparitions
   of fear, figments
   coming to presence,
   barely corporeal in the dappled sun,
   the great owl knows better
       than to turn away from the unknown;

The aperture, sealed, was yet
   made to be opened, and though
   the devil tree, screaming blood, vomiting
   anguish into the wastes, was felled
      and the blasted heath reclaimed by the forest,

Daring trees grow sparsely
   and wither around the gnarled stump
   where He who has seen too much
   waits, hoping that stupid ******* coyote
   does not bring the city back with him

      ...again

There are some days
That will never end
Days that take my nights away
Nights are precious
Full of stars and dreams
Nights are the right time to be awake
But days swallow them
They poison them
They burn them to death
And then endless days exist
And love seems like such a manipulation
And smiling takes the effort
That stargazing tears consume
And then winter comes
And nothing stays the same
But everything seems stuck
Days are shorter but disappointing
Nights are long passages
Throught songs I can't listen to anymore
And then there's you in my brain
In my damaged
Poisonous
Mind
Soul
In everything I own
I keep my isolating obsessions in touch
So you can see them
Before really meeting me
Maybe that's why you run away
And when you come back
It's night again
But days are older
And bigger
And turtorous
And you're night
I thought I was night once
I might be a constellation
Watching tears through people
Stargazing me
And you're the whole night
The whole night
And I'm just stars in between
And when you're the day
I never appear
I drink my venom
And I die for as long as
your sun stares at my
bleached hair
Days are suffering manipulators
And I'm just some weird lyrics
Inside some pointless notebook
Written probably in the morning
And I stay there dead
Trying to reach my poison
Because venom is not permanent
And when I finally find it
Through the chaotic words
Of the daylight
The night comes
And I'm a part of myself again
And you're watching me
Becoming night
as you become day
And I don't try to reach you
I'm staying night
You can become a constellation
And I'll drown you
With my labyrinth of a heart
Inside my stars
And I'll be night
And those days will finally end
And I'll be night
And I'll let you finish your morning poem
Then
At night .

No recycling
Dump your garbage here

You’ll stumble, stutter
My gesture, you sat.
End with a bump

Strangers and Irish car bombs
Intervention, mortal if anything.

Shhhhh …. A world awakes
As colors burst forth, like celestial flares
Blues cascade down, like shimmering streams
Greens and oranges dance, in neon dreams

Amidst this kaleidoscope, a wise gaze meets
Owl eyes, piercing bright, with secrets to keep
Feathers etched sharp, like whispers in the night
A beak that holds the mysteries of delight

A guardian of the forest, a wolf's presence roams
Perched astute, where ancient secrets call home
Two birds take flight, on wings of wind and grace
As the owl watches over, with a gentle, knowing face

In this symphony of color and light
brushstrokes weave a tale, of wonder and sight
A world of magic, where creatures roam free
A testament to the beauty, that's born from painted creativity