“… its crowded and cold …”

its one of those nights

Too much coffee, and smoking a rolled cigarette

And I bite my lip …

“In my secret life
In my secret life
In my secret life
In my secret life
I saw you this morning
You were moving so fast
Can’t seem to loosen my grip
On the past
And I miss you so much
There’s no one in sight
And we’re still making love
In my secret life
In my secret life
I smile when I’m angry
I cheat and I lie
I do what I have to do
To get by
But I know what is wrong
And I know what is right
And I’d die for the truth
In my secret life
In my secret life
Hold on, hold on, my brother
My sister, hold on tight
I finally got my orders
I’ll be marching through the morning
Marching through the night
Moving cross the borders
Of my secret life
Looked through the paper
Makes you wanna cry
Nobody cares if the people
Live or die
And the dealer wants you thinking
That it’s… ”  Leonard Cohen

scary shit

All to often we hear

So and So has changed

But I do not believe it


You can loose your belly fat

You can tone up

You will age

You can change your diet

But your personality remain the same

Your dna

your fast twitch

your pain

your moods, and your brain

Forget about it!

and that is the scariest part of ‘us’

that we are moulded, and once moulded, we remain


waking up in the middle of the night

thats my middle name

its then I laugh, and write, and am amused

By the thoughts that has arrived

The dreams that woke me

Sometimes I lie below the covers, and do not write my snippets down, and then

The morning comes

And they are gone

and only my sore tooth remains

some material

The Last day and a bit

I got a visit

It was of someone extraordinary

One of the rare specimens

Last of the Mohicans

Someone who doesn’t complain

Who has served and served and went beyond that extra Mile

i being that apple that rolled not too far from the thornbush

Wondered, how much acid I had in my pants

I hoped I had some of her inside me too



Waning Cresent – be warned

Mother knows

When Moon blinks the Eye

Its then that Father must be avoided

Jack Torrance and the boy down the aisle

Seventy Seven Demons

Horney inmates arriving on open pipe Harleys

Bloodthirsty Vikings – Coming to town

Its not all poetic, nor quant

And would be laughable, and funny

If it wasn’t so scary

Sweet Child of Mine

In between dreams of various destinations

And frequencies

I travelled during the early morning hours

Went to bed reading a Thompson novel” the killer inside me”

Most the dreams was meaning less, as they usually are

But all of the sudden you were there

It was somewhere in the Western Cape

Nearby trees, and a stream

Maybe it was at Beaverlac?

You were sitting there

On a big fallen over tree

Your legs bent under you …with your arms over them

You looked at peace


Like you had reached a good place

I looked at you

A peach of  (a) find

A woman

The stars again collide

Warm butter on a bun

The sun came trough the  clouds

And Guns and Roses shout

Sweet child of Mine