Nýjustu ljóðin

1

I drown in your eyes
they take me to an unknown land,
but there is something missing

so I come to your hands.

2

With your sweet words
you turn me on,

into sex and poetry.

I mix it together
to visit another world.

3

The world of reason
disappears,

I just want you.

4

In the desert
I long for you,

the wind is blowing.

5

The sound of the palmtrees
when the wind blows,

voices from far,

common, wake me up.

6

I send you a message
with the stars.

The universe is all shining.

7

Okay, love is simple,
touch gentle, gentle

and then it wakes.

8

I am all shivering,
perhaps the desert wind inside me,

soft, erotic, but causing me blindness
of love.

9

Only your eyes,

and my body
behave like an ocean.

10

Oh, god, I am an ocean,
and your eyes control me,

I make waves.

11

I am so excited,
I long for you,

for a such a long time,

the time has left my body,

there is nothing next.

12

I regret so much
that I did not made love to you.

I would have changed into a bird,

and flew into your heart.

13

Meeting you...
...it was like I was inside love itself,

my love.

14

Please let me be,

in your heart.

And just dream.
Dream

of your touch

that makes me real.

15

I long for you.

If I just could remake
this moment,

I would let it last.

Forever.

16

Because there was something

in your touch, in your language,

that made me feel eternity.

Eternity!

What is going on.

17

No, let it be.

Just let it be.

Me and you.

It was not so.

It was love.

18

You was a gift to me,
I did not dare to open,

started thinking:
What can it be?

19

You made me feel like a poet,
my true self,

I am not an entertainer,
I am poet, going through doors,
all the time,
enter a new world
all the time,
going where I want to
to catch a poem.

20

You opened up that door,
I did everything to close it,

thinking of you,
opens them up.

21

Although you are faraway
you are in my mind.

And my mind is faraway.

22

In the mountains
I think of you,

over and over again.

23

And when ever
I think of you
I make a poem

Or perhaps love in few words.

Oh, words.

24

Go over the mountains,
read my thoughts.

I am still thinking

making a path for you.

25

Falling in love
makes me full
of intrest.

Do you still love me?

26

I miss you
I miss the hotel-room

and Venus.

27

I do poetry
to look for you

in the universe.

28

From the Red Sea
to your arms,

full of ocean.

29

From the Red Sea
to your eyes,

floating.

30

You are so faraway.
My tears tell me.

31

You are sick
of love
you tell me
its okay
to take off
my t-shirt
with the Northen-Lights.

32

I surrender
its the only way

to feel all this.

33

When I feel all this
there is also my fear

or is it my sensitivity?

34

If I follow my sensitivity
I dont loose the compass,

I get straight to the point.

35

The world is full of love,
I must be mad,

thats how it is.

36

You are so young
I dont believe you
but my body does,
made of love.

37

When I heard
your voice, my voice
said: Melt.

So it happened very quikly.

38

Come to me,
dont go. Stay.
I dont understand it,
come, go and stay
must be together.

39

It all started
with a good-bye-kiss.

40
How can I live like that,
so sensitive,

tell me.

41

Okay, I melt,
start to cry

it is the end of my ocean.

42

I do love
you, I cant
stop.

Its dark outside.

43

Come to me
in my dreams,

I will remember.

44

There you was
for me, I did not expect you

but it was like you had been
waiting for me.

45

Somebody for me,
can it possible be,

I show you everything.

46

My life starts
its heartsbeats,

you know what I mean.

47

I did not know
that making poetry
is making love,

only few words from heaven

and my earth starts singing.

48

These poems comes
if I dont think,

using my senses,

like waves I understand later.

Sekúndusögur

LJÓSIÐ

Einu sinni var kona sem mátti ekki elska mann en svo mátti
hún
það og þá kveikti hún á kerti.

RJÓMINN

Einu sinni var munaðarlaust barn sem var alltaf að þeyta
rjóma.

BÁTURINN

Einu sinni var bátur og honum blæddi alltaf á
fugeldasýningum.

VANINN

Einu sinni var kona sem skipti sér í tvennt, hún var vön því, og munaði ekki
um það. En hún fannst ekki þegar eftir henni var leitað.

ÁST EÐA ÞRÁHYGGJA

Þegar hún leyfði rödd ástarinnar að hljóma sagði ástin: Ég þekki hann ekki
neitt. En rödd þráhyggjunnar: Ég þekki hann svo vel. Það veit enginn hvern
hún var að meina eða hvort hún meinti kannski sjálfa sig.

ÆTTIN

Öll ættin átti svartan kadílják.

SKOTIN Í

Einu sinni var kona sem var skotin í manni í fjarlægð. Svo kom
hann nálægt og hún þóttist viss um að hann mundi gera henni
eitthvað, tildæmis særa hana, amk. rífa ofanaf gömlu sári og hann
þyrfti kannski ekki að koma mjög nálægt tilþess.

MENNINGARHEIMAR

Einu sinni var kona sem fór í annan menningarheim, hún fór í
101, 102, 103, 104, 105, 106, 107, 108, 109, 110, 111, 112 og hún
varð ástfangin allstaðar.

A good-bye (a short play – June 2005)

WAITER: Do you remember me?

ANNA: Sorry.

WAITER: Sorry.

ANNA: Its okay.

WAITER: Are you okay?

ANNA: I am in love.

WAITER: Sorry?

ANNA: Sorry.

WAITER: Its okay.

ANNA: Are you okay.

WAITER: I am in love.

ANNA: Okay.

WAITER: Okay.

ANNA: Okay.

WAITER: Sorry.

ANNA: Sorry?

WAITER: What can I say.

ANNA: Sorry.

WAITER: Sorry?

ANNA: Okay.

WAITER: Okay.

ANNA: I dont know what to say.

WAITER: Take your time.

ANNA: Okay.

WAITER: Okay.

ANNA: Okay.

WAITER: You understand.

ANNA: Sorry?

WATIER: Sorry.

ANNA: Its okay.

WAITER: Are you okay.

ANNA: When does the train leave?

WAITER: Sorry.

ANNA: The train.

WAITER: Does it mean that is the end of this.

ANNA: The end?

WAITER: The end, yeah. The end.

ANNA: The end of what?

WAITER: The end of this conversation.

ANNA: Sorry?

WAITER: Is this the end.

ANNA: I dont know how to end.

WAITER: You say good-bye.

ANNA: Okay.

WAITER: Okay?

ANNA: Sorry.

WAITER: Good-bye.

ANNA: Are you saying good-bye.

WAITER: Sorry.

ANNA: Sorry.

WAITER: How do you say it?

ANNA: What?

WAITER: Good-bye.

ANNA: Good-bye.

WAITER: Good-bye.

ANNA: Good-bye.

WAITER: Good-bye.

ANNA: Good-bye.

WAITER: Good-bye.

ANNA: Good-bye.

WAITER: This is good...bye.

ANNA: Will you remember me.

NEWYORK-LJÓÐ

ÞÚ

Þú talar og hreyfir þig
stanslaust,
einsog náttúran
sem ég er alltaf að reyna að stjórna
í mér.

YOU

You talk and move
constantly
like nature
which I am constantly
trying to control.

LOVE-POEMS FROM NEW YORK

I wish
you were here,

and we would be together.

I miss you
because you’re a fucking good
lover
and turn my soul into song.

I haven’t been able to write anything
because my soul
is singing
about love, loneliness
and sex in forbidden places.

I spent seven days
walking through New York
looking for you
when you found me.

I got a butterfly
from the Bronx
who changed into a man
when he played his instrument.

I told my friend
I was thinking of you
and then she said: Of course

you are thinking of him.

So I don’t feel guilty anymore.

I miss you
and I miss you too.

You’re a butterfly
in this city
so I wonder
if I’ll see you again.

I will give you the northern lights
the midnight sun, all the stars

you know what I mean.

I can’t write a poem about you,
you are a movement,
constant talking
constant looking around
constant constant
and suddenly you say:
I will be thinking of you.

My pillow smells of you,
only the Atlantic Ocean
between us.

So who understands
the Atlantic Ocean.

I saw you wake up
start to talk
like playing drums.

I can hear the drum-talking.
in my ice-cold hands.

You say you sometimes
play the flute for the lions,

well, I am the fire.

I can’t be constantly
burning so please
talk constantly.

So I will please you.

Your shoulders
for instance

your shoulders
in the dark.

You said: Call me
if you think of something.

Well, I’ve been thinking of you.

You have a breast I can put my hands on,
and my knees get hurt,

loving you,

but I don’t feel it until I come home.

You come from Africa
and I look it up in the map.

So hurt me
when your soul
gets inside mine.

When my soul starts talking
you must hear something,
it has crossed the ocean.

Move, you are made of move, you move all the time, I don’t understand moving, I understand waiting, or I don’t understand waiting, there I stop understand things, if I move I understand, and the understanding is like a jungle into my head.