The Guide for the Perplexed

This is an out take of an encounter I had with a stranger who approached me on a bus in Copenhagen.
He did not introduce himself, all I know of him are these sixteen sentences.  

“They are good right, the words.”
“Hah! Important I tell you.”
“Like cannonballs.”
“If you polish and shape them correctly,
 they can bring down towers of ideas.”
“You are young, you need the words,”
 and they need you.”
“The only feeling that has appeared to survive this century - is self pity.”
“Poetry, philosophy, psychology, mythology, theology, history…”
“It strengthens the mind, like muscles holding a falling building.”
“Keep thinking in feelings, keep polishing your words,
 don’t look at me son,
 I’m no sight of inspiration.”
“Hahah!”
“Bye my friend, this is my stop
 - Not yours.“

Water of the Fort

 

 My home has left me

 It packed my memories of comfort
 Feelings of predictability
 And left without a warning

 Before leaving
 It hid my trust in people
 Pleasures of doing nothing
 Excitement of a fireplace

 I am to blame
 For months I forgot to feed it my thoughts
 I blamed it for my mistakes 
 Dammed it for my loss of passion

 It flees my disappointment
 Like Atlantis it has chosen to disappear
 Because I displaced its glory
 It sinks my imagination