thoughts ... like weights
               ... like balloons.

Trough the poem we touch the soul of the universe .
A man needs a muse.

Un instant au pont je l'ai vu.
 Save elle etre née dans cette regard, qu'elle existe vraiement ?
The lips that pose a question
worldless transferring the invisible butterfly.
You could hear it's wings flapping in my heart for weeks now.
A curtain of rain drapped around an oval eye,
is it sorrow that makes a fertile ground?
Like Chagall singing in his kitchen
while his wife floats around the room
with burning lips.
The world has different layers
one of them is poetry.
The flesh might be gone
but the bone of love is strong
one day we're gonna grow ourselves
a new skin.

a winter's sky lit
with towers of cold
eyes like frozen windows
i see her walking down
great Prussian stairs
the palace whispers
histories colours from within
hanging trough the daylight
the cloth of the ancient sin
into the blackest night
flower of destruction
syllabel of flight
into the tree of a landmark
saphire systems of spinning wishes
the machine corrupts
a towering system
a cubist fountain
spitting icecubes
dazzling monstreous
taking deep breath
into the annagrams
we 'll slowly forget
how to read fingerprints
on eternal stained windows
of dedication smelling a
rosestand on fire
collapsing cathedral of thought.

handpicked lovers
her hands in the rushes
where the cloudberries grow
a woman collects

dreams of the double helix

i enter
one spiraling breath of colours
she's there
not a hand is stretched
she appears in front of me and draws me in her light

it is in the hall of mirrors
the voices of ancestors resonate
my pastlives like drawers open
a footstep like a cymbal crushing the unexisting floor

beams of light spinning sounds
here there is no landscape
a deck of flowers tumbles from the top of my eyes
millions of flowers , with no stem or ground just an electric field
that blooms in fluorescent shades

the city carries faces trough her vains
they snatch at each other
bites of air
massive electric movements
from heel till forehead

they say the abyss between our bodies
is called love
and where supposed to fall in
endlessly

screaming for our lives .

i was there with my brother tuesday . felt so so so happy !! Jonsi is a boddhisatva , a shaman, a force of nature . Welcome back Sigur Ros !