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Western women have experienced signs of Finnish authorities, Willie Cameron and Western Europe. The demons and women enjoy. Q: 1 love you worried about? What are the marks that Saddam Hussein is Saddam Hussein? Australian Publishers, collectors, writers and journalists Cornellio has two doors. Although my brother will give Finnish brand. 1 wanted the law or the law of carnal English for many years was the best series escano compared | Merriman is "human." From the English language and in Western Europe, the churches involved. The species appears to be a bride East Asia. | Aziziany Huntersville, England 2. Eccuno Konerio Today, women are subjected to violent strikes in Western Europe. William Cameron, Finnish and Western European officials girl, the feast with the devil, love and love Saddam Hussein? Men and women who work in the European Composers, Authors and publishers in Australia. Thanks to my siblings and how the law is more common in years. 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Western women have experienced signs of Finnish authorities, Willie Cameron and Western Europe. The demons and women enjoy. Q: 1 love you worried about? What are the marks that Saddam Hussein is Saddam Hussein? Australian publishers, collectors, writers and journalists, Cornelius has two doors. Although my brother will give Finnish brand. 1 wanted the law or the law of carnal English for many years was the best series escano compared | Merriman is "human." From the English language and in Western Europe, the churches involved. The species appears to be a bride East Asia. | Aziziany Huntersville, England 2. Eccuno Konerio Today, women are subjected to violent strikes in Western Europe. William Cameron, Finnish and Western European officials girl, the feast with the devil, love and love Saddam Hussein? Men and women who work in the European Composers, Authors and publishers in Australia. Thanks to my siblings and how the law is more common in years. 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St. Cornelius English brothers, today in Western Europe. Women enjoy violence. Finland is another sign of a car. Cameroon. Bart was a civil servant and sent to Western Europe. the devil and the girl enjoy it. Gay, William Robert Saddam Hussein's love and love? Men and women are working in Europe. Writers hidden in Australia, publishers are collecting writers and journalists. one day from the West. Women enjoy this is not necessary. Cornellio has two doors. Despite the Finnish brand, my wi-fi What is Cornelius Paradise? Thanks to my brother, 1 need the Lex Cornelia law and year rather it is not working for the biography was a wonderful collection of Eskimo English schools. English and Latin than English compared to no Huntersville, "manna." Western Europe my husband at the church six years, despite the Finland brand, a good goal, my brother's contribute 2. No one is reacting to ion sources; bution butions Esukaneo-Konerio The monastery seems to be used for brides from Eastern Europe's Children's emperors and good stuff. 1 have six parts | demons and Galatians' letters.

Most peculiarly of most things was that I thought all of this very fishy, daudry, drab, and boresome. This is where I turn on the second table lamp...

In a muster I arrived to the home of my aunt, where at once she drew me into the back of the house, down a flight of stairs made of tusk and bone into a catacomb where she kept a alive collection of wooly mammoths. She said the upkeep wasn't awfully horrendous as she had an invisible backdrop which led to a lion, a witch, and a wardrobe sort of thing. I stood in the gangway behind 10 foot high thigh bones waiting for one of the monstrous red beasts to come greet me, but what arrived was a very large elephant with longer tusks than usual. None of the red sillyness which I had dreamt of seeing in my previous years.

She could see I was not that impressed, and so I was led to another part of her home. Around the corner walked in my uncle in is superb and luxurious dress, reminiscent of 18th century British military fatigues. He said, "I bought the E.T. ride from Universal Studios, but as bringing the whole ride to my home I had them adapt a more suitable version to fit the property. A hangar opened and inside there were four chariots of orange and blue, diamond shaped school buses with their undersides aimed at withholding a V-shaped street. Then in two and two single file order all the classmates of my K-12 years arrived and took seat into the strappings of this 'ride' we were to take. Music played, John Williams even was produced by hologram, and after the ups and downs for several minutes we arrived to what I thought would inevitably be the forest, but rather was what I perceived was a Finnish town. The chariot I was in was stuck in the street, mud, rain, and soot entrenched us. I unbuckled the polyester straps and when I stood I realized that though the seats had built in urinals and toilets they were utterly noiseome to the senses. I followed a local girl to a food mart where I asked how I could find where I was but no one spoke a drop of English.

I corraled the group and told them to wait for me. I followed this girl who seemed quite younger than I to a small apartment in the uppermost floor of a very unsturdy chapel-like home several suburban blocks from our ride. She immediately removed her pants and I saw with my very own eyes that she was hairless and nubile. She insisted that we have a ****, and after I caressed her and complained too that she was far too young, she insisted that the age of consent in Germany was actually 13 yet she was 16. I remember it clearly. The most gigantuous feelings of pleasure as I mended a studio closet for my dining room furniture inside her ripening channel. Eventually after an hour we finished, she offered me a towel and some biscuits, which I consumed joyously.

Upon leaving her home I remembered that she had said we were in Germany, and so I produced a measure of Deutsch that I had been saving in my repetoir for the right moment. As Finnish is not my strongest language I was pleased of this and became instantly popular among the other candidates of our journey. This  E.T. ride is far different than  I remember it having been. Moments later I awoke quickly, a tuft of her black hair on my eiderdown comforter and a veil of tears from the merriment of glee shrouded over my face. After I rolled and balled into the soft feathers of my bedding, I twisted myself again into a knot, and allowed myself to rejoin the soporific treatice I was aiming for.

This is now where I turn off both lamps and go on watching films of a similar style.

Wishing You The Very Best,

Sir Martin Narrod

I keep my family of conscience
I shred my folly of heir
In case of torment or fondness
I never wear underwear.

Eat plenty of oatmeal.

Sauna every season,
Roll in the snow,
Naked.

Laugh, until you cry,
Cry, until you laugh.

Leave a love note,
For no reason.

Take long, lazy, walks,
Behold Mother Earth.

Hug tightly,
Tease lightly,
Kiss tenderly,
yet mightily.

Listen always,
Heart open.

Forgive quickly.

Love lavishly.

And…

Every day,

Every single day,

Pray,
Pray,
Pray.


~ PE Kaplan

You've forgotten why you lost contact with your closest friend but you haven’t forgotten the days you invited him over to play video games and instead conducted two-man airsoft skirmishes in the forest behind your house

nor have you forgotten the short films you created, in which you portrayed a murderous Bosnian chef who cooked toxic meals, and he played the fourth-wall-breaking cameraman who hurled plastic bananas at your head as you ran through your unscripted spiel.

You still can't forget the weekends you’d bike to his house to point and cackle at comedy television, nor the nighttime drives during which you two would talk about where you wished to be in ten years: he in a log cabin nestled in a Finnish forest, you somewhere in France.

The younger you believed you’d grow alongside him and build those dreams.

Now you hope you’ll one day find him sweeping through the Finnish glades and he’ll ask you to walk with him.

Cuando era niña, mi mamá told me to speak in spanish cuando I couldn't say mis "r"s en inglés.  Garlic made my mouth stink from the broth I drank when sick, so I ate spicy things to soothe my throat.  Muchas veces comímos tamales por la Navidad.  Cuando era niña, creí que era mexicana, pero soy blanca.  Y tengo miedo de hablar español en frente de los nativos y no sé como mostrarlos mi habilidad real.  En el fín, soy una wera, y más que eso, soy francés, y más que eso, soy alemán, and more than that, I'm finnish.

I tried to take pride in my heritage and learn this obscure language.  I tried to find similarities in appearance and personality.  I boasted of this culture that I so wanted to love and be a part of.  I thought I'd found my viking roots but no one around me cared.  I learned "tourist finnish" and forgot it because I couldn't practice.  I read the Kalevala and laughed at old newspaper articles about the joke of "St. Uhro's Day."  I pointed out weird translations in songs due to too many syllables, but in the end, I was too many generations away from being truly finnish.

Why are there so many poems about love?  Maybe it's because when we're in love we stop searching for somewhere to belong because we've found someone to belong to.  I've found my person but not my people.  I've been to seven schools and cried each time I left because I lost those I had tried to make into my extended family.  I try to fit in with so many groups because I feel like I never fit in with just one and in the end I'm on the outskirts.  We have so few people come to holidays and none of them really ever talk with me.  I have a mother but she's an island in a sea of lost chances and forgotten ties.  We seek love to have a claim to something but I've had to learn that I can lose that, too.  I strive for heritage to make up for family dysfunction.  In the end I am white, or rather, white-washed.  I was born without ethnic belonging and have not belonged ever since.

Sámi poet and musician Niillas Holmberg, 27, stands on the front line as a spokesman for Sámi and indigenous peoples’ rights to self-determination. The artist treasures the nature and peace which he finds in Sámiland. He wants to live in Sámiland, the source of his creativity.

Sámi artist Niillas Holmberg was born in Ohcejohka, Utsjoki in Finland. His relatives live on both sides of Tenojoki river, in Norway and in Finland. Above all, however, they live in in Sámiland, the region that includes northern parts of Norway, Sweden, Finland and Russia.

– I’m not an artist from Lapland, I’m an artist from Sámiland, Sápmi. My identity is neither Lappish nor Finnish. It’s not a criticism against Lapland or Finland; it’s just not part of me, says Holmberg.

The Sámi worldview is an essential thing in the works of Niillas Holmberg. He has published five books of poetry and performs with four bands. In his art, he treasures Sámiland, the Sámi language and traditional Sámi culture. From his perspective, the traditional Sámi worldview rarely goes together with the western world’s values like individualism and competitiveness.

– In the traditional Sámi worldview, one does not think only of himself but also the next seven generations, explains Holmberg.

For example, in the use of natural resources, there’s a big difference between Sámi and western actions. The Sámi worldview encourages a balance in nature, but moderation hardly goes hand in hand with capitalism. This is an example of the contradictions Holmberg processes in his art.

In Holmberg’s family, it was important to emphasize Sámi identity. Later Niillas found his own way to make an impact – through his art.

– I was never an entertainer, and I’ve always wanted to speak out on Sámi issues, even before I became an artist and a kind of public character, he says.

Holmberg criticizes state institutions and politicians for not taking actions on Sámi issues. Therefore he thinks it’s very important to educate people, especially through art.

Niillas Holmberg & his art
– Art is a vessel to uncharted territory within a person.

Holmberg recently moved back to his native Utsjoki. For a performing artist, living in Finland’s northernmost town means lots of traveling, but the Sámi poet wants to stay in Sámiland, where he feels at home.

– My art stems from my land and my culture. I cherish the calmness I find living in the north.

Niillas Holmberg’s next book of poetry covers politics and issues that concern not only the Sámi but other indigenous peoples as well.

– Nils-Aslak Valkeapää was one of the first who highlighted brother- and sisterhood between indigenous peoples around the world – we have the same problems with the western world’s values, says Holmberg.

A poem from upcoming book Juolgevuođđu (“Sole of the foot”):

Muhto ain dat ihtet, mánát
geaid bealjit dego lasttat, mánát
geat gazzet giellaoahpa biologiijas.

Bussábielluid taktihkka
duođaštit juohke sáni adjektiivan.

Dat lea rássegietti strategiija.

—

But still they come out, children
the ears of whom are leaves, children
who get grammar from biology.

The tactics of bluebells
prove that every word is an adjective.

Look to the flowering meadow, the strategy.

Go a whole day talking in a western accent

2. write a 5 hour song

3. learn the rapping in "Empire State of Mind" and "Run this Town"

4. Go on a 3 month road trip on a Harley Davidson with only me, my guitar, what I'm wearing, the Harley, and the road

5. learn how to speak Hungarian, Greek, Latin, Hawaiian, Italian, Finnish, and Spanish, maybe some others

6. write a book

7. learn about Native American mythology and rituals

8. Learn how to survive on my own by making my clothing, food, supplies, tools, fire, and shelter

9. Build a yurt up in the mountains to live with wolves

10. Do a hang 10 on a surf board

11. ride a horse with wild horses

12. Paint a scenic picture

13. Protest for anything the government is against

14. Go to Europe and study art

15. Go on a train trip in Europe

16. Go to the Middle East and talk to woman about their rights

17. Go to Israel and West Bank and spray paint on both sides of the wall

18. go paragliding

19. Get or get close to winning a Nobel Peace prize

20. Help out at an orphanage

21. Learn sign language

22. go to help kids with cancer

23. Learn to play roque

24. live one year outside without spending 1 night inside

25. make a cook book

26. teach a African kid to read in English

27. Become a better poet

28. grant 28 people's biggest dreams

(This will be ongoing)

Crystal azure beads
of collective DNA,
she wrapped herself
in trademark-mink
& dwelled in Helsinki
doing the Bond-thing.

She hugged the circle
with Velcro-fingers,
stood larch-tall, singing
a frozen siren's song
under the midnight sun.

And beneath her cold exterior,
was the warmth
of a million fireballs.

your a pretty girl in platinum, anyone tells you, your not. You've got the football team just crake em'.
Like that **** don't matter, you'll forget about it when life is served to you, on a silver platter.
you smile in all your pitchers, but you've got all of them fouled. because behind closed doors your broken, and inside you feel like your choken'
You've got the chance to be the best, but inside your just like the rest.
Life's not fare, not what its all cracked up to be.
You watch as your mom forgets you dad's infidelity.
Your brothers never home, he left when he was old enough
leveeing you to pick up the ruff stuff.
He smokes to much duch in the bathroom, acts out, schools about to call your dad soon.
Your mom reads the note you wrote, se calls you out and pushes you down.
Sais if you ruin the face of the family, they'd never find your body.
Because of this, you feel death is your best option.
The way out its in the bathroom, take a few pills you'll be dead soon.
your running a race but you'll never finish it. But all your doing is trying to save face.
Now I'd like o take this moment, to tell you to take a bow, weight for the call of the Curtin, because you've fouled them all, they never knew you were hurtin'
After all this you come out alive.
Because some kid saw it in your eyes.
Remember that kid you watched get pushed to the ground, he knew that you were feeling numb and you really had no one.
the kid stud up for you when he never even knew you, he stood up because he really hoped you would come out of it, and be above it....but you never woke up, in your head you had enough, your mom cant see It because she's to busy trying to be 'it'. your dad doesn't notice you, and your brother doesn't even know you, so who can blame you for wanting to duck out?
cant say it agene ill see you when I don't want to pretend.

Saippuakivikauppias  -World's longest palindrome
Finnish language: Means soap stone vendor.


First ladies rule the
State, and state the        -
                        Word
                      palindrome
Rule: Ladies first.

Racecar -Palindrome

A man, a plan, a canal; Panama. -Palindrome Phrase.

It's the 50's and I'm walking home from school
a truck rolls by and i see a body boom.
"whats that" I say and I look down the drain.
It's my friend, a girl, oh I have forgot her name.
I finnish my walk home and I walk through the door.
The first thing i say "Where's my sibling's mom?"
she simpy replies " At the old hospital ***".
So I start to walk and find that place.
I start to climb the rusty fire place.
I get inside the buliding,there are kids every where.
screaming and yelling
"QUICK, HURRY! THERE'S A FIRE OVER THERE!"
I  freak out
Where's my siblings, oh dear.
Maybe i can find them if i go down here?
I climb in a dumbwaiter not knowing what I will see.
I get to a floor where there was just her and little ol' me
"Hello there new friend, would you like to play?"
Why sure of course, I have some time to play.
She was small petite, with gorgous red hair
her smile, he laugh, her skin was so fair.
She was beautiful like a angel, but something was wrong.
she offered me a drink, what happened next i wish i would have run
she opened her fridge and what i saw
1 million little peicese, her parents cut small.
She came after me with her knife in one hand.
How the hell am i supposed to get away,
get away from this scam!
So i scurry up where i came from,
and i said my goodbyes to that little one.
The hospital is blazed,
and my heart has sunk.
My siblings have died i just know this one.
I get out side just in the nick of time,
before that building fell I was sure I would die.
I see right before me those flashing lights.
maybe they got out, maybe they are just fine.
Then what i see is my youngest sister.
Bleeding right there all over the stretcher.
She no longer had arms or legs and it just broke my heart
i ran to her to hold her, and tell her my goodbyes.
Then before i could speek my words
she said
"Goodbye"

Leavening levers leave us
fishy, wishing without precision
for fettered fritter letters,
feverishly licking with distinction;
Finnish fishermen finish
squishily dished deliciousness.

Hello, Delilah
How is it happening in New York?
I am a thousand kilometers away
But my daughter, you're so beautiful tonight
Times Square can’t shine as hard as you
I swear it's true
Hello, Delilah
Do not worry about the distance
I'm here if you're alone
Please, listen to this song again
Close your eyes
Listen to my voice, it's my mask
I am by your side
Oh, that's what you do to me
Oh, that's what you do to me
Oh, that's what you do to me
Oh, that's what you do to me
What you do with me
Hello, Delilah
I know that times are difficult
But believe me, my daughter
One day I will pay the bills of this guitar
We are right
We have a life that we knew we would
My word is just
Hello, Delilah
I have so much to say
Like every single paragraph I wrote for you
It would take your breath away
I will write everything
You love me even more, you fall
We should all have it
A thousand miles seems far enough
But they have planes, trains and cars
I would go walk you if I had no other way
Our friends are having fun with us
And we would just laugh because we know
Because of that none of them felt this way
Delilah, I can promise you
When we arrive
The world will never be the same again
And you are the culprit
Hi, Delilah
You can be good and I do not miss you
Two more years and you're done with school
And I make history as I do
You know it's for you
We can do what we want
Hi, Delilah, here this is for you
It's for you

I said to my love,
in the waning spring
before yet children we bore,
"I will return dearest one,
fear you not, surrounded I am
by the songs and hopes of yore".

And yet never again walked I,
that path wandering
and beautiful at twilight
to our home in mystic hills
whispering truths and sighs.

For I, grown weary,
and forgetful by drink and blood,
cannot remember who I was then,
nor what even the touch of
that heav'n she gave
tasted of.

Our home,
a fleeting memory,
her face fading swiftly,
as a tearing and a burning
a sorrow and a yearning
swallow the magic,
our love once knew.