artikulation .75c

Osaka calling,
Here I come,
On another,
Visa run,
Monday morning,
Catch the bus,
Avoid the hour,
Of morning rush,
Incheon airport,
Checking in,
Passport ready
Trip begins.
Board the plane,
The plane takes off,
Served some food,
For me to scoff,
Wash it down,
Asahi beer,
The first of many:
Japan is near!
Kansai airport,
Safe and sound,
Catch a train,
Namba bound,
Head for consul,
Forms filled in,
Pictures taken,
Fun begins.
Find hotel,
Of capsule kind,
Now a bar,
We need to find.
Walking around,
Check out the birds,
They don't speak English,
Not a word.
Eventually,
We find the pub,
Pig and Whistle,
English grub,
Play some darts,
And drink more beer,
Getting pissed,
It's more than clear.
Move on now,
To pastures new,
Have a whisky,
One or two.
Pidgeon English,
All the way,
More beers drunk,
More darts played.
Time to go,
Another bar,
Around the corner,
Not so far.
By now it's hard,
To stand up straight,
As time ticks on,
It's getting late.
We meet some bloke,
Who has a club,
So off we go,
To take a look.
The whisky's free,
We drink some more,
By now we're almost,
On the floor,
I lose my friend,
In the street,
I try to find,
A place to eat,
Then off I go,
To my hotel,
And pass right out,
In my capsule cell.

artikulation .fa3

Eleven hours,
In the sky,
Is such a boring,
Waste of time,
From taking off,
To touching down,
There's nought to do,
But sit around,
Yeah I could read,
But still I'd know,
I'm stuck in here,
Till I get home,
Or I could watch,
The TV screens,
But one films crap,
The other I've seen,
The food is shit,
Can't even smoke,
The radio's,
An audible joke,
My legs ain't long,
But still can't find,
The space to rest,
Relax, unwind,
I feel so trapped,
And so pegged in,
What should I do?
Where to begin?
It seems that drink's,
The way to cope,
And getting drunk's,
My only hope,
Of ever getting,
Off to sleep,
Without the need,
For counting sheep,
So I will try,
With all my might,
To drink my way,
Right through this flight,
For that's the only,
Way to be,
At thirty-five,
Thousand feet.

artikulation .093

Into this life was born a child,
And through his eyes the world was wild,
For he was born without the sense,
To understand or comprehend,
And so it seemed the boy must learn,
And learned he most to wait his turn,
For nothing wanted came his way,
No matter how the boy would pray,
But learn he did, he learned the rules,
In English, math and science schooled,
But what of life, and what of love?
Of those he never learned enough,
For in the library, though he looked,
On life and love there were no books,
So in exams the boy excelled,
While outside school his life was hell.

As the years did pass him by,
An empty space did grow inside,
Such a void could not be filled,
No matter what the boy did will,
And despite all of the things he tried,
It seemed he could not start his life,
Something lacking, something missed,
But he knew not what for he should wish.
Then just when life had ceased to live,
The gods they chose a gift to give,
A gift to change the life of boy,
A gift to be more than enjoyed,
And box and string could not contain,
This gift that life itself would change,
For such a gift, it knew no bounds,
In how it turned his life around.

artikulation .05e

What to do? An hour to kill,
60 minutes to be filled,
Another hour of my life,
Is sure to idly pass me by,
And I'm so bored and so fed up,
As I sip coffee from my cup,
And try to write a page of words,
To take my mind away from earth,
Occassionally I raise my eyes,
And look at people passing by,
The cars and buses on the street,
The shoes on different people's feet,
For little else I have to do,
But smoke a cigarette or two,
And on this paper move my pen,
Until the clock ticks on to ten.

artikulation .07f

I am I,
Not this or that,
I am where,
My mind is at,
I am all,
I want to be,
I am myself,
When I am free,
For I was lost,
Drifting around,
Up in the clouds,
Down on the ground,
And I was scared,
Of letting show,
What I can do,
And what I know,
And how I am,
Deep down inside,
Where real me,
In peace resides,
But now I am,
Will always be,
Until the earth,
Does cover me.

artikulation .35f9

Throw and kick and punch and scream,
This nightmare strangles all my dreams,
My future chokes and gasps for breath,
My hope gives up and falls to death,
'It's over' - two sweet fucked up words,
That take away my very worth,
Now cast aside, rejected, lost,
My heart must pay the bitter cost,
And here now I in hell reside,
A place where truths turn into lies,
Where sweetest love turns into hate,
Where demons twist the knives of fate.
And suffer I, as I must do,
Until my life is born anew,
Or this will take the life of me,
Just like it took my one true dream.

artikulation .04fa

A new day dawns upon my world,
I find myself without my girl,
The 'my' possessive now expires,
And so does love's once boundless fire,
So here I find myself alone,
With these four walls no longer home,
The last four years no longer mine,
But now forever lost in time,
The memories flood my empty head,
As I lay in my empty bed,
No longer 'ours' now nothing is,
Except the pain in which I live,
But memories fade and so does pain,
As life turns on it's head again,
And just as night corrodes the day,
New days are born with sunshine rays.

artikulation .b06f

Yeonhee-dong project 195,
Where thoughts were given wings of life,
Into the air they jumped and soared,
And everybody jumped on board,
From Norway, Sweden and Korea,
Came a humdred-plus ideas,
The seeds were sown and watered well,
But what would happen none could tell,
Soon the seedlings pushed through the ground,
Accompanied by a wonderous sound,
The sprouts grew into stalks and shoots,
And into earth a tree took root,
The tree it grew, a network formed,
Connections made and rulebooks torn,
Buds emerged, soon fruits they bore,
With seeds embedded in thier cores,
And down to earth the fruit did fall,
In answer to it's nature's call,
So other trees could too be born,
To turn ideas into form.

artikulation .fe5a

As London mourns some fifty dead,
Nobody thinks outside the west,
Why does the cost of those who died,
Exceed the cost of other lives?
For fifty dead's a daily count,
And really is no great amount,
For those who live on troubled shores,
Where digging graves is a daily chore.
And in those war-torn parts of earth,
It seems that life has little worth,
Where fifty children can meet their death,
Without a global pause for breath,
With no two-minute silences,
Or books of sweet condolences,
No prayers for those they left behind,
To them the western eye is blind.
Who calculates the mortal cost?
Why do the numbers not add up?
How can the value of one life,
Exceed ten fold another's price?

artikulation .f34

A fluffy little hedgehog,
All on his own,
Waiting to cross,
By the side of the road,
If he crosses too soon,
He could wellregret that,
He might get hit by a car,
Ending up all squashed and flat,
And he could have done better,
With the route that he chose,
I was on my way home,
Same time, same road.
To tell the truth I was tired,
My eyes were half closed,
I really needed to sleep,
And I was starting to doze,
I wasn't paying attention,
Driving home without care,
I didn't think about hedgehogs,
I didn't know he was there.

Then I saw the little fellow,
Out of the corner of my eye,
He was starting to cross,
To the road's other side,
So I slammed on the brakes,
As hard as I could,
I hoped it wasn't too late,
I didn't want to spill blood,
I was praying I'd stop,
Before I took his poor life,
But the road was so wet,
That I started to slide.
Now I know what you're thinking,
And you're thinking the worst,
"That poor little hedgehog,
All bust up and burst!
By the wheel of a car,
At the hand of a fiend,
Who had complete disregard,
For the hedgehog, it seems!"

But your thoughts are astray,
There is nothing to fear,
It didn't happen that way,
The little hedgehog's still here.
I didn't run him down,
Or roll him flat on the road,
With the wheel of my car,
When I was on my way home.
When I skidded along,
And I just couldn't stop,
I went over the hedgehog,
Right over the top.
It was so very close,
He was lucky that night,
He was right in between,
My car's headlights.
He must have been scared,
So very afraid,
But on he will live,
For the rest of his days.