(foto David Dickson)

lördag 31 mars 2012

I give you the sonnet II

I am pleased to present Peter Ingestad's "Sonnets for Katie", a 64-sonnet cantation about love,  passion and creativity to name a few of the associations prompted in reading this truly inspiring work of art. Ostensibly an exposition of the actual and the imagined in an impossible love affair, it is also readable as a classically inspired treatise on perception, consciousness and reality. 

It was originally published on Ingestad's blog "Singleswingle", which was removed from Blogger in december 2011. A retrieved cached version is now published here. The initiative to publish it here is my own. My reason for publishing it are its literary qualities and the fact that it would otherwise run the risk of being lost. 

Ingestad's activities on the internet, in addition to poetry, include a profusion of political debate articles, pictorial art, porn photography and spamming. His enormous and sometimes aggressive output has resulted in his being banned on several sites. Possibly this is the case on Blogger as well. 

The series of sonnets published here flourish all of his creative energy, but in a way that balances aggression and sexual obsession with humour, philosophical and intellectual curiosity along with a sense of the tragedy of being human.

The pictures illustrating some of the sonnets below are Ingestad's own - also published on wallpapergate.com

Single Swingle
My English Poetry. 
Please. Just copy and paste into a textfile for free and unrestricted use and distribution. 
NOW. Any time it may be too late.

Peter Ingestad
Born in Lund, Sweden 510325 

lördag 21 november 2009

Most people seem incapable of learning!
Could anyone but Katie understand
just how the letter M is always burning?
She says: "Bréton is getting out of hand

for you, kind of!" – I know she's only kidding;
her ignorance is nothing but pretense
for social reasons, yes, she knows her ridding
herself of everything that could make sense

to me! She asks me what I'm really smoking,
and I explain I only smoke Rimbaud.
– "Why, then you must be on the verge of choking,"
she says. "Now would you deal me such a blow?

I think You should smoke me instead of them,
'cause I am lightened by the letter M!"


"You're wiser, Katie, you could be my mother,
admittedly," I said, "do I confuse
you still…? – The one true state excludes the other,
what do you think, I guess it's too abstruse

of course, so let me clarify, dear sister,
and just stop talking nonsense to you here.
Guess later on I'll send another twister,
just catch it if you can, and keep it, dear…"

"The pessimist I hear, as always," Katie
now said, "honey, you know it's quite abstract.
But you'll go on like that until you're eighty
and propably remain somewhat intact –

Guess I must learn, get wise enough to see
how to survive you, Sir Catastropheee-ee!"


I must be be yours, Katie, I said, and only
alone, together, here and now, with you
and always none but you, 'cause I'm so lonely,
blah blah, so be my darling, love me do,

together we shall both be all together,
together we shall both be all alone...
– It was september, calm and cloudy weather.
My heart felt somewhat like some cloudy stone –

"You're nuts," she said, "you're goddamn crazy,
well, nevermind, no news, good news, I bet.
I'm safe as long as you remain that hazy – "
She threw away her burning cigarrette

and laughed out loudly. How I loved her white
big teeth. She hugged me, and I held her tight.


I followed Katie silently, all deeper
into the park that was this night's alone.
Of course I dreamt. I always was a sleeper
– and Katie keeper of my sleep, my own,

my innermost reality'n my passion
as taught this moment by some pendulum
of secret pain in void and eerie fashion
like hanging in this darkness, hot but numb

with expectations that I couldn't master –
She turned around! She saw me; and her smile,
ironic, hit me like a sweet disaster,
We stood there, eye to eye, for just a while –

And then, of course, I didn't see her there,
but just woke up in moderate despair.


Don't ask about the meaning of illusion
and fleeting moments, since I nothing know.
I left the public toilet, confusion
was all around. I wondered where to go.

The light was blinking, whitish water flushing
the floor. Was I onboard a sinking ship
or something like it? Was it time for rushing
right out of here! Oh what a fearful trip!

Then I saw Katie. She was calmly perching
up high on that surrealistic stool,
her dreamy eyes were far away, like searching
the ceiling for - who knows! Perfectly cool

– as she appeared, I thought she was insane
– she hummed a song I never heard again.


Their comport was impeccable and later
they lawyers, doctors, anything became.
But I went always in a daze, a traitor
to me, myself, I felt, and to my name.

The failure of my class, my school, a worthless
dropout into some sort of quarantine.
I tried to consolate myself: if earthless,
diffuse and void my dreamy world, it's mine –

One day did you, Katie, cheerleader
and chairman of the student board, our queen,
our paradigm of charm, consistent feeder
of vain desire, let yourself be seen

to me: some sort of campaigning strip tease??
Your jeans were slowly slipping down your knees…


It was the time when streets around the city
prolonged themselves. Soon would the night
be here at last. Estranged like Walter Mitty
or maybe Kaspar Hauser, out of sight

for other people, somewhat sad, rejected
and destitute in this department store,
society, well, I drifted undetected
– this wasn't all my life, I wanted more!

I stood there, helpless, in an escalator
– and you, a shadow, whispered in my ear:
"Just jump into the safe, don't stay a waiter!"
I turned around, and you were really here –

Katie, please come back! Let yourself be seen
and tell me thoroughly, what do you mean?


My eyes: you cannot put them out, nor lighten
them up again; they're turned away from you;
your mystery remains opaque; so might an
enigma's darkness tighten; still be true.

You always were an unintelligible window,
my girl; somewhat a neighbor, still afar,
exotic even, like a tamarind, o
dear Katie; be my acid, be my star.

And all along the watchtower your stalker,
– I hear you. There is nothing to be seen.
The man who nowhere goes remains a walker
pursuing Her, his idol and sirene.

My bed was never what I did believe,
my home is shattered and beyond retrieve.


Do I feel good? So tell me first the meaning
of this word, and then let me see your face
for me to reach; the mirror where you're leaning,
on to my heart and speeding up its pace.

I didn't say something about my feeling,
my inclination for deceit and lies.
I fear the truth as told would send me reeling
if it was told by you to snap some ties.

But this won't be tonight, no time for reason,
disturbing like a morning's song of birds.
This season, short, is meant for blissful treason
for which a purple twilight dreamers girds.

Tomorrow is another day. Forget it!
It's never gonna break; we wouldn't let it.


I tell you: I was finally together
with Katie, safely buried in her hair,
that fragrant night, and it was early weather
around us; I could see it faintly there.

And then all of a sudden I felt sliding
so softly downwards, landing on her neck,
so gently finding there another hiding –
what amorous and cosy little trek!

On this occasion, much like a commercial
for sweet perfume, now did I really dream...?
Was real that dream, then really finding her shall
remain the hope that will forever gleam.

A womans scent, a virtual no wind's dancer!
I call this air: Nature's Delightful Answer.


I have a memory still to unravel,
an altogether new experience.
A dreamy landscape. Somehow I did travel
therein. The sun was bleak, the stillness tense.

With irreality this world was blended.
I heard a choir from behind the trees.
My journey just went on, it never ended,
this floating presence, this uncanny peace.

The road lay empty and the sun was soundless,
a nondivinity that still awaits
my waking up to you, to me, to boundless
astonishment in front of your portraits -

It's now! A giant stadium, indoors –
The voice I hear, Katie – it isn't yours.


See Katie in the shower! And what next,
the murderer, who pulls aside the curtain?
There's something imminent in this context,
it's dark and horrible, that much is certain.

I dream I am a monk, my rather free
and easy task this eerie night observing
the sky, to stay awake – and now I see
it gradually happening, unnerving,

to say the least, and yet I cannot hear
it happen, there's no scary distant thunder –
And still my spine is chilled with ghastly fear:
I see the clouds be slowly ripped asunder.

The veil is rent! Humanity, beware!
It covered: nothing; there is nothing there.


I said: "The theologians really know
their topic; are these people smart like eighty-
one people quite like you together, so
just do like me and pray and trust them, Katie,

their knowledge adds to a tremendous mass
of safe and very holy gravitation!"
– "Oh yes?" said Katie, "What if all that jazz
is very simple at the final station

what do you say? I don't want to be rude
not even really to oppose your mission.
But tacitly this concept may include
an untold power, that's my slight suspicion,

I mean, that Truth was never too complex –
You may say 'God'; the real thing still is Sex!"


A sudden absence! Doors were slowly swinging
wide open; still just darkness to be seen,
as in Communion, a silence singing,
here was a place where I had never been –

What Nothing all this was, intensely glowing
invisibly as from a hidden prism
for gamma radiation, I was knowing
uncanny forces of some magnetism –

Cathedral of the night! No certain measure
can tell us what is guarded here; content
unknown. Its name is Memory, a treasure
like nothing else, Katie; it's Sacrament.

Then back at home. My world had normal size –
The Force behind it all remains – your eyes.


A journey through the minutes of the night
that no one understands; that's life. Absurdly
blessed be your sleep as well, Katie, all right?
It's all but moonshine finally and thirdly.

So do unite your shadow then with mine,
I'm sleepless just like you, my name evading
all kind of human script as we recline
like distant city lighting faint and fading.

As life is gradually turned a whirl
of ignorance and pleasure be upgraded
to dream this very life. You're not my girl,
will never be, and there's no love that faded.

Reality, that's not for you and me,
nor sleep, nor love, nor really real are we.


I always was a writer wannabee.
I asked my girlfriend Katie how to make it.
She said: "It's fairly easy. Can't you see?
Today there sure's one certain way to fake it.

Just you casually tell'em anywhere:
I have a Jewish mistress! Halleluya!
She leaves your book like she was never there;
she made your point and luck; they're gonna woo ya.

And then, repeatedly, make very clear
that you're indeed the perfect cumshot master,
a comet that will never disappear –
'cause nothing sells like Sex'n Shame disaster.

Go far enough, and you will catch some eyes
– might even win that VERY Nob-le Prii-ize!"


"These words observe our abject walk",
I said to Katie, "now's their season
of shiny sand…" – She said: "Now, that's the talk,
so rich with feeling and devoid of reason…

walk on please, you've already caught my ear,
I stay enthralled…" – "These gates and their reflection,
like burning water, this compulsion, hear
my call…" – "Sure thing, I'll cure your imperfection

and make us TWO about it, huh? Poe-tree,
it branches out, alright…" I sighed: "You're funny,
honeybunny, aren't you… PLEASE make me see
myself instead and make day real sunny…"

I couldn't help relax myself. The beach
was close, I felt real pleasures within reach.


I said to Katie: "I will give you feeling
and carry both of us throughout the night
I promise, rarely tired and never reeling,
as steady as velocity of Light – "

"Oh yes?" said Katie. "Why, that sounds terrific!
What could I more expect from such a nerd?
This last idea is barely scientific
however, honey, rather just absurd.

You see, the simple truth we should unravel
directly is – if only for this rhyme,
ha ha! – not light itself makes such a travel,
since light, essentially, is simply, Time,

relating mass to energy, says Kant,
when Heaven clarifies all dizzy rant."


It dawned upon me now – nay, t'was a lightning
revealing true reality of this Night,
It made some point indeed to me, t'was brightening,
explaining almost everything, all right?

What did I see? That Life, so ever streaming,
so daily ours, is nothing but a dream,
I tell you, that's what Life's about, just dreaming,
a frictionless transport, persistent stream,

that is: at best, like when? It's your decision,
I shall not interfere with it; it's yours.
To tell you barely nothing, that's my mission!
You're on your own to find yourselves: the Force.

Then I decide that Katie's all divine;
I'll deify myself and make her mine!


Who am I, Katie, tearing skies asunder
just being here? A stranger in the night.
Since I was born – nindeed, this was my blunder
– I follow you, my persevering light.

It happened when I saw your face, your body.
It wasn't many happenings ago.
I never knew this night. It's cloddy.
It's dangerous and bright, I hate it so,

I badly need some comfort. You deliver,
so I'll stay following your splendid dance,
so fluent all along some dark moon river,
my whishful dream and sight, somewhat askance.

Who is it, that in solitude discerns
your essece then, these swinging faint lanterns?


Withdrawn as always, taking interest
in Eucharistic Mystery, the changing
of bread and wine to holy substance lest
we all be doomed, since Night is ranging

allover Day; that's just like always me,
now who can tell me how this happens. – Katie?
She says: "It's obvious, why can't you see?
We eat the light, so utter plain and slaty

– like Nothing more! The light you saw is gone,
but now your blood is duly set afire;
since Life in quest of Time goes ever on,
indefinite, how could it then expire,

however we may put it to a test
– there cannot be an answer to this Quest!"


Yes finally. The earthy weather perished.
How consciousness was flashing at the gate
towards the woods. Your breath I always cherished
just like a fancied drug, to me innate

- I carried it within me for an eerie
and holy tribute to the alien face
of darkness, oracle for abstruse query,
elusive spirit of uncertain space.

And what about your eyes? From world an dire
reality I took them all along
this path in proud and flickering desire,
a secret never heard of, like a song

of nothingness, like you, Katie, who never
existed, and will unexist forever.


I said to Katie: "Can you feel the star
behind my eyes, that heavy retardation
of Time that brings us closer till we are
united in a love supreme, our station - "

She laughed: "Honey, you're still real hot
on relativity, well I can take it;
your energy is cubic - 'k, why not?
To make a thing impossible, just make it

and eat your tail precisely like that Snake
devours your flesh: it's nothing dear; you rim it;
provoke me tell you 'just give me a break';
this dog won't bark, you're on another limit -

where you, Li'l Man, with all that mighty gaze, are
not far from charmin' powers of a quaa-aasaaar!"


Be born into the distant Universe
where every human being does belong!
How Life's but sickness, Death our single nurse.'
How murd'rous poetry's quiet; a different song

was never ever heard in life. Let's stay
in absence, Katie; deal me solitude
and beauty. Yet for Nothing must we pray,
for Nothing brings, as Nothing its prelude,

but Nothing: my vertigo, your nightmare,
our splendor, sister. Let's fall victim then
to birth; let's enter Nothing. Nothing's there
as God was not, commandments will be ten:

Live! DIE! Live! DIE! Live! DIE! Live! DIE! Live! DIE!
in moonshine de profundis low'rd sky high.


Guess love's not always tender and serene;
uhm, does a man feel bigger with a trigger
sometimes; allright, we kinda had a scene.

Katie!!" - (I wasn't whispering.) - "Prefer me rough
'n ready? Damn, eat DUST, huh!" - "Please get steady,
dude", she laughed. - "What for?" - "Enough's enough,
I rather want you like my carebear Teddy - "

- "Like h-h-WHAT??" - "Somewhat conservative." - "Please tell
me MORE!" - "Let's say you owe's some cultivation
so try spare's both another Rebel Yell,
gettit? For all this college education

- ain't optin' for some spiritual panorama
confined t'your goddamn SWEET HOME AL-AY-BAAAAAAH-MA!!!"


My Poetry! aah, so exquisite; obscure;
indeed mature; how Katie should be reading
in awe! - She says: "Now wouldn't we endure
this Tragedy; your heart is really bleeding,

I'd say not altogether just in vain;
a simple girl gets readily aware a
great star is born in agonizing pain
amounting to a somewhat minor Niagara

Falls of abject Lamento." - "Huh? You're joking?"
- "Just slightly overwhelmed, honey, it's oh so
perfectly said, conceptualized, revoking,
profound, misterioso doloroso

etcetera, 'k. I'll read it till it dawns
upon me what it says", she says, and yawns.


I said to Katie: "Are you there, my dove,
to hear this distant song? - Hey, what's so funny?
- Receive my avalanche of Perfect Love
before I walk away forever, honey - "

"Let's call this call a call, then, and profess,
my bosom got some faint exquisite nurture;
but who's the prey, and where's the wilderness?"
she said. "Be camera, apply austere aperture,

so might illusion vanish. What canine
intention here, how somewhat over-fillable
this pot of Confidence in Ego; fine;
don't go to far like some redundant syllable

lest both our self portrait, as due reaction,
gets lost in mutually assured distraction..."


Do you think I exist, Katie? How dreamy,
how unessentially mere fugue this "Life";
hey, what about some option you may beam me
up into your Realit-tee! My wife

will never be. Forever you're my sister
and true Platonic counterpoint; our pangs
of unrebirth may bloom as love does blister
untainted yet by carnal Void Big Bangs.

Be sure I'll stay our virtue's staunch defender
tonite; let's call this quite my cup of tea;
you don't exist, huh? Thoughts returned to sender
whirl 'round this misery of tender apogee

...bartender! Look, my head goes polyphonic;
please let me have another gin and tonic!


"O misery," I said, somewhat annoyed,
"despair's our lot! How Nothing stays essential,
how everything's just rubbish, vain and void;
might someone recognize a faint potential
for Truth and Meaning?" - "Sure", said Katie, "rubble
and ash surround us charming like a fart re-
called - still! We all adore your splendid bubble
of Nothingness, that Being is, as Sartre

concisely pointed out." - "Ah that's my girl,
presumably; what nonsense. Shall we focus,
get back to basics, God, and THINGS." - "Just hurl
ýourself on Cosmos' whirl of hocus pocus,"

said Katie, "get a life; it's your voluptas,
Kraków provisional stamps and Chandraguptas!"


I said to Katie: "Life goes on, alas,
I know myself! Who will survive, the smartest,
the best? Suspicion au contraire; just as
van Gogh, I feel like THEE forgotten artist!"

"You thrive on misery", Katie replied,
that's pretty good for you." - "Hey, love me tender,
bitch; witty pity; happy suicide!
to me, uhuh?" - "All right, let sunset render

some glory to it, Mr. Self Contained,
you ARE the World; let's jump it it now lest we go
bananas both; your mirror shines, blood stained;
my window; l'art pour l'art ! This splendid Ego

makes moi feel quite so-so,"said Katie, "yo,
let's talk about some Michelangelo."



"Look here, beloved Thing, said Katie, "splendid
as it may be, your dream, it isn't me;
'cause all there's there in THAT world, yours, is blended
with YOU, Sir! So what's really here to be?"

I sighed: "Ideas, diffuse and elevated,
make still the only Real that shines to be;
the sky, where you and I, forever mated
abide, prevails; it's my Reality."

"Get real, that's banal", Katie said, "you're chronic
in ontological delusion. Gee,
I guess I somehow love you." - "It's platonic!"
I hastily affirmed. - "Obscure idea"

said Katie, - "'k, be sure I somewhat nimbo-
stratospherically will remain your BIMBO!"


I rest at home in Katie's absence; bleak
and dull this everyday, my life, this ceiling,
my sky, somewhat unclear; a mental streak
of Somethingness appears and sends me reeling

into some dreamy whirl of Faith and Hope
...and Eros; daylight's razor mustn't sever
a man from his nocturnal blood and dope
and basic instinct; diamonds are forever,

I see the splendor in my Katie's eyes;
she isn't here, nor there, but all around me
on any distance! in this world of lies
and filth, as would a Dogma's Light astound me:

that simple Truth, that makes us all endure,
somewhere is Love, and Love is always pure.


We learn; we live; we die; how payments stamp us.
My Katie had a coke and I a joint
for free somewhere in this world's giant campus.
A student of some talent made his point:

"I AM a poet, natural born truth teller.
I won't allow them bastards grind me down;
the Conference of Dunces makes a seller
post mortem, finally, so let them frown;

they're dead, all right; will I die? Never,
t'was always those already dead that died;
my partner Death will make me live forever."
"I guess you're talking, honey", Katie sighed

and shrugged; "let's call this world a decent thriller
and make your move. Get real; get Serial Killer."


So what about this world of ugly beauty
where Life goes Death, austerity perverse
by overdue prescriptions? Holy Duty
prevails in minight's daylight; calm and terse

our Prayer be; as yet no God will hear it,
since matters as we know them don't exist!
Our world is here, is not, we mustn't fear it
when distant children cry immersed in mist

beyond our desperate eyelids. Katie enters
my virtual room; I see her alien eyes,
where all my absurd Faith in panic centers
antecipations of confirmative surprise -

She says: "If this disease, your life, is mental,
its final cure may still be transcendental."


Who sent me to this garden's rim? Nocturnal
disjoint seems just around like Katie. Seize
a true conception, Dear, my name, but kernel
of shadow Name, it's mine, a distant breeze´

prevails, accordingly, throughout this dreamy
undream, "Real-i-tee", somewhat the fence
around, alas, itself, please, Katie, see me!
I'm glowing infrared from due suspense:

our Love, n'est-ce pas; expect our virtual meeting
to come, since Faith/Hope/Joy will never quench
itself. This moment isn't mererely fleeting
like demons, sweetly whispering in French...

She suddenly replies. "Wake up, you rhymer!
These sleepy rants should sometimes have their timer."


I'm not myself. I'm just another one,
a man of urge if not respect. Befriend me!
I seek you like a Viking och some Hun,
somewhat astray, where sweet sour fate does send me.

Direction; attitude; ballz East and North!
This Day was Some, and out from due deposit
of Night, its Manhood did indeed surge forth
With all the force collected in my closet,

my Love by Muscle; this was all I had.
"Uh-oh!" said Katie. "May it work, this rapture?
I wouldn't bet on that!" - "Stay cool", I said.
"I'm here." - "Like precious you? For just one capture,

You fuck me or you duck, oh Boy of Boys,
but first you better slug me; your free choice!"


Nowhere is Love! As Beauty might be sending
some fleeting moment's Winter on my mind,
let's keep our breath; these Teens are never ending,
just leaving dreamy futures way behind

in faint brittle peace, uneas'ly remembered;
gradually rest may follow, X-mas still,
somewhere, a daydream, curiously decembered
delivers someone's blood enlight'ning thrill

like Fragrance of new fallen Snow! What hovered
above that second Mind's approach of Yore?
Grow down, get real, Katie, become boylovered,
desimpurity be gone, be gone thy bore!

I plan, somewhat naïvley set for duty,
to make you share with me your distant Beauty.


went downtown, saw Katie in the nude
on Common Avenue, detracted soltitude
as it were, like a dream-state rosely hued,
like no one else could see her; DAMN! I phewed;

was reciprokelly then, thank heaven, viewed,
bestowed unique hard-on! but NOT eschewed,
contrair-i-lee, he took a somewhat rude
'n ready attitude of Sex Prelude; it BREWED!

And for a start, I hiccuped "Hi!, imbued
with Moooood! She toodledooed: "How cued
your awe-full specie-ally-tee, Sir Lewd,
to prove (alas!), to have me finely screwed,

and hopef'lly afterwards beloved, wooed,
alive, huh? Don't you even DO it, Duu-uuude!"


Nowhere is Love! As Beauty might be sending
some fleeting moment's Winter on my mind,
let's keep our breath; these Teens are never ending,
just leaving dreamy futures way behind

in faint brittle peace, uneas'ly remembered;
gradually rest may follow, X-mas still,
somewhere, a daydream, curiously decembered
delivers someone's blood enlight'ning thrill

like Fragrance of new fallen Snow! What hovered
above that second Mind's approach of Yore?
Grow down, get real, Katie, become boylovered,
desimpurity be gone, be gone thy bore!

I plan, somewhat naïvley set for duty,
to make you share with me your distant Beauty.


When finally I arrived at Kurukshetra,
the Battlefield, I somehow did expect
to see Katie, my Muse, my Thing, etcetera;
I saw myself, somewhat apt to direct

action time! and my heartbeats - were they really
mine, huh? - somewhat irregular, you bet,
was ordered in due sequence, rather freely,
bloods testosteronized to War! To set

things right, we need to fight, discover
our tribe, our truly Aryan Brotherhood;
and there was Katie. Were I now her lover?
Who knows! Fully restored to proper mood

I suddenly woke up; she crouched beside me
like in some dream; did she look apt to ride me.


When Misery, Fear and Boredom Being barrens
and living Death, impending overdue,
appears as present, due counterapparence
all of a sudden brightly shine anew,
conditionally... just as Dream, as certain,
is not; as Nothing is supposed to be
by Jove, or something like him. Raise the curtain!
It happens; and she stands in front of me.
"When Angst runs high, a Miracle makes lever
whence faint Ascension´s born forlorn, my dear;
like diamonds, instants are indeed forever.
You're here, you hear?" I yell, "You're finally here!"

Says Katie: "Why, to know what really foments
your life, be gone, and heed your Threshold Moments."


The space of temporal damnation must be
excluded, Katie; don't tell anyone
about it; rumors run like Scripture. Just be
around, aloof, sincere; it can be done,

uncertainly. The winds towards their Madam,
whence they occur, are here again; who tells
us nothing, dear? Incognito like Adam
I lack your Knowledge; don't see Where she dwells,

so help us God. Where are you? Some aperture
is what I need! The Journey of Escape,
my life, is short. They tell me Love is nurture,
amen; I feel it's just another tape

recording; but the Blood of Our Mylady
run deep inside your Spirt, pure and shady.


Expanding suburbs, silence, solitude
at dawn. The force thus current may awaken
someone, who knows? Our brightest dreams elude
themselves and us, they leave us stirred and shaken.

For nothing we shall live, for nothing die
since everything is over in the first place.
This desolation from an arid sky
makes all the world the very worst place.

I look around, but Katie isn't here,
it seems, I feel I couldn't even spell her
name, still there's nothing here around to tear
asunder something which I have to tell her:

real life. Wherever you're around, my dove,
remember: you must never fall in love.


Dear Katie, I'm indeed your loving stalker,
I roam the empty streets in hapless joy.
I am indeed a man, a lonesome walker.
And you remain my dream, and I your toy.

I seek, from early nine to late eleven,
your bright chimera; might you lurk behind
next corner? Shall we meet, at last, in Heaven?
Who knows, what's finally for us to find.

I must reveal a secret. I'm a stranger
to you, America, where stars shine, bright,
above the stripes of Dream, for any ranger
within the range of Dream. Oh distant light!

I live in Stockholm, Sweden, stalker zone
for me; in Stockholm I will die alone.
by Peter Ingestad


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