ebenborehaus

[ebenborehaus]

"Prayer for your lonely nights" by Lloyd Alfred Bloke

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I am the sky. 

I am the sun and the moon, and the stars are my freckles;

I am a giant and a baby

I am the holy side of the priest 

And I am his worst sins,

All in one.

I am a being

I am the Sky.

Be with me

Because you have no choice

Try to love

And try to paint me,

Adore every atom I am made of.

I am your father’s eyes and I am 

The spirit of the shadow of your mother.

Here you are

On knees

In front of me

In front of all.

Love me

Be me

Cry me

Throw me up on a crowded street;

And be proud of it.

I am your creation

And you are mine.

[ebenborehaus]

two poems by Elias Wahlberg

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"Half Shirt"

I put my half shirt to the test, 

I fill my lungs with air just one deep breath and recollect.

Son, you look so young,

like I was that time I found my gallbladder grotesque,

and said you swans go on write songs so long they are definite.

Drown me in the pond,

this is my reflection.

This water makes a mirror good enough.

I don't want to go but I guess I must.

Why can't I put you in a jar,

the shallow prime contenders say that I have gone too far.

I tie the laces of my vest,

impending physics never disinfect the specimen.

Going off the coop, drinking holy water.

I would walk the plank to take the test,

to make you wager on the likelihood of happiness.

Tell me I would be wrong, going up against it.

The neighbors make the tables full enough.

I don't know how to cope but I guess I must.

Why can't I stuff you in a bar,

and make you pay your way to labour day you cannibal.

"I Feel Like Someone Else"

We are here but what are we?

We're swimming by like fish seeing life boat action.

Watch my sisters as they watch my feet,

slow dancing in the midst of depressions castle.

Have I caused this to myself?

I run up to you and when I am finally there,

I just feel like someone else.

I have stopped between the lights,

skinny dipping in a pond because it's what I have longed for.

Strange phenomena, wuthering heights,

running round and round the house and then out the back door.

I have tried to say good night,

I wake up and you are holding me by the nose,

I just feel like I am alright.

We will feed you until the end,

we will wait until the questions only reach the turnpike

Killed my flowers when they killed my friend,

you have always known what stretching your perception feels like.

Saw my secrets as a sign,

always worrying my death would be an instigator,

I just feel like I am dying.

Sing asylum, sing Goddard,

sing your sorrows to a place that quarantines the pain.

Sing acousticum guitars,

sing a short reprise for Mary Todd who went insane.

Sang a soul song, sang the truth,

sang my heart out in a ballad for a pestered caveman,

sang farewell songs to my youth,

[ebenborehaus]

"slow dance" by Stacey Teague

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slow dance

love is an idea that you came up with 

over your morning coffee

you come up to me and say

"have you ever heard of this thing called love?"

and place your hand on the small of my back

pulling me towards you in a way that seems intuitive

like the way a river flows

i imagine that gravity didn't exist until you pulled me in your direction

you ask if we can slow dance in the middle of our living room

and i just laugh

and repeat the word 'dance' in your accent

it's "dance" not "dance"

i look at you with eyes that convey "hehe"

i make fun of the way you dance

i make fun of the way you love

[ebenborehaus]

three poems by Megan Schüirmann

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"Ginger"

bottle of kombucha is making really loud fizzy noises and im scared it's possessed 

i'm possessed, too, sweet ginger kombucha

i'm ginger, too, wonder health drink

i'm healthy, too, liquid detox glass road

i'll be on the road soon

because i'm just a manic asshole

"Pizza"

the other day i wanted to leave my house but was having difficulty leaving my house

some people leave so easily 

they just get up and go

they know what they want to wear

they plan their outfits in advance

when they wake up in the morning, they wear that same outfit that they picked out the night before and are happy with it

they probably also drink from those metal reusable water bottles with the clip on the top and a few screws to get it off

they feel okay with screwing it off

they don't get anxious while screwing it off like 

maybe this time it won't unscrew

how will i get my water if it doesn't unscrew

what if i become dehydrated and faint in public because i cant get the lid off

and they don't have parents that smell their water bottles to see if there's alcohol inside

and they wear their planned ensembles and iron their pants and wash their face and eat tuna from a can while watching netflix that has perfect wifi connection that doesn't skip every five minutes

i had to order a pizza as an excuse to leave my house

i thought

if i order a pizza

i have to go get it

otherwise pizza hut will yell at me

and i don't like getting yelled at

but what if my car breaks down on the way to go get the pizza

i don't know then

i don't know what i will do

mom

dad

my car broke down

where were you going

to go get pizza

why are you getting pizza

i don't know i wanted pizza

but you're vegan

not anymore

i put on baggy harem pants and a baggy sweater and a baggy romney tshirt that i wear ironically 

big puffy coat

hat with giant bow on it

dirty snow boots

leave the house

too lazy to change the song on my ipod because i'm so indecisive lately and nothing will make me feel any better than what i'm currently listening to

also it is snowing and i am scared of crashing my car on the way to get something as unnecessary as a pizza

i get the pizza

the woman asks me questions that i don't understand

i suddenly remember that there is an opened bottle of cake flavored vodka in my purse and struggle to conceal it while taking out my wallet

she can't get the credit card machine to work

i feel like i'm going to die

what if it accidentally charges my card twice

then i will have to call pizza hut again and i don't want to ever call pizza hut

when i ordered the pizza i did it online because i am a control freak

i don't ever want to call pizza hut

she says some other things to me but i don't hear her because my thoughts are too loud

i get in my car

i have a pizza

i don't eat the pizza

i text my friend that i have a pizza and vodka do you want to hang out

he says yes give me a few minutes

i drive around aimlessly for two and a half hours and we end up at a party and i drink too much and cry for an hour for no reason and his friend touches my hips because he likes bony hips and we have to persuade his friend's brother to give us back the car keys because we are sober (we aren't sober) to drive home

we drive back to his house but stop halfway because he isn't sober enough to drive and i am good at driving so i drive

we make it back

his parents are upset because it is 6am and not pizza and movie time

i hide in his room

his mom apologizes to me and says that i am welcome at any time and i am very confused curled in a ball on his bed

we watch shawshank redemption and eat the pizza

the pizza is frozen

the pizza is good

i left my house that night and the pizza was good

"Ahhhhh"

my attention span is all over the place

fuck my attention span

open your mouth

stick out your tongue

say "ah"

"ahhhhh"

"maniahhhhhhh"

ok no put your tongue back in your mouth why is your tongue white you smoke too much then you drink coffee and your tongue is this weird brown orange color and both of these habits cause teeth yellowing and anxiety issues and maybe my cute little babies should stop smoking and drinking so much coffee BUT

THAT CREATIVE LIFE

HOW ELSE CAN ONE STAY UP ALL NIGHT

oh

such strife

[ebenborehaus]

excerpt from "early this morning, a dog saved someone's life" by Theo Thimo

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1. Early This Morning, A Dog Saved Someone’s Life

“Albert was someone who I looked up to and admired and I want to apologize to his family and friends for killing him. It is something I would not decide to do again. Let me be clear, he did not have a lot going for him. When the large plastic container filled with hot sauce tore a hole in it’s side, I had to watch Albert stare at the broken container in front of the trash can for 5 minutes while he decided whether or not he should throw it away. If you were to ask me, I would say he deserved it. That’s just my opinion, and I think I still have a right to that.”

-Last words of death row inmate, John Buckhand

Today is my first day as a bigtime TV news anchor! I hope nothing goes wrong and everything goes as planned. I am going to be working at the big news studio in town. Everyone is going to be asking me about the news. I’m trustworthy and, If there is a disaster in town, I will be the first to know.

“Welcome on your first day, Mr. Francis!” “You too, pal.” My boss gives me the news and I report it to everyone in town. “That’s right, Diane.” I say, “Today we celebrate this town’s second straight week of no

crime, and local teenage poet, Theo Thimo, will be telling us about his series of ebooks that he self publishes on the internet! More of that tomorrow at 7.”

“Great reporting, Albert.”

“Diane, thank you. And can I just say that you have the best OKCupid profile, I’ve ever seen?”

“I saw you visited my profile!”

“Tell me, how many short men have sent you angry messages about that “tall guys only” thing?" I chuckle.

“More than you would think, Al.” She chuckles.

The news is a fantastic, wonderful thing. I love the instant streaming of selected information usually pertained to current events. I think I’m going to go home and masturbate while thinking of Diane. Wow, the sun is still shining high up like a giant yellow balloon. I see great thick trees alongside the highway. You know if I couldn’t enjoy a day like today, I would probably kill myself.

“Honey, I’m home!”

“I made you your favorite dinner, meat and bread,” my wife says, kissing me. “I still love you after four years of marriage,” I tell her. Anyway, it’s tomorrow and things just keep looking better than ever. I even make it to

work 15 minutes early. “Congratulations on coming to work so early,” my boss says, “You have shown such

incredible enthusiasm for this job.” “Thank you, sir. I plan to continually improve at my job.” “They’re about to finish editing your 7PM interview right now. Wanna go see how you

look?” He leads me to the editing room. Someone is playing the interview. Theo Thimo is a

young, childish kid with unkempt hair who lives at home. I, on the other hand, have a navy blue suit and a mortgage.

“What’s your earliest memory?” I asked Theo on the television. “My parent’s eating breakfast, I think.” “Do you believe in a god? A life after death?” “Oh, I don’t know. All that stuff is pretty up there, you know.” “Do you like animals?”

“Yeah, my dog was my best friend.” “When did he die?” “When I was 16.” “How?”

“He had an enlarged heart.” “What’s your favorite color?” “It used to be green but it might be pink or maybe orange­red.” “An orange­red? Like vermilion?” “Maybe.” “Did you cry when your dog died?” My boss looks at me. “Al, what is this?” Theo looks distant, almost uncomfortable. “Not at first,” he says. “How did you find out he had died?” “He was lying on the living room floor in the morning.” “What did you do afterwards?” “Went to school. I talked to someone about it.” “Who?” “A girl. she liked me I think.” “What is your favorite kind of car?” “I don’t really like cars.” “You don’t like cars?” “Well, I mean they’re important. I just don’t know the difference between them. I’m not

interested in them would be a better answer, I guess.” “Did you think about your dog a lot afterwards?” “Uh, I dreamt about him every night for about a month. I dreamt he disappeared around

corners a lot.” “What’s your favorite memory of your dog?” “Going to a field behind an airport and laying near him in the grass, hiding while I ate a

bag of chips. I was maybe 6. My parents were looking for me and him and it didn’t seem like a big deal at the time. I think my parents took a picture.”

“Tell me about the girl you talked to.”

“We had a couple classes together. She smiled at me a lot. I had a crush on her. We didn’t talk that much but maybe I looked visibly upset because she asked me how I was feeling that day. When I told her about it she made eyes at me, and encouraged me to go home. She asked me if I cried too. She didn’t really know what to say but it felt to me like she wanted to do more for me than she felt comfortable with doing at the time. She made me feel good though. I really liked her.”

“Your top 3 favorite smells?” “Gasoline, strangers’ houses, and Home Depot.” “What makes you smile?” “When I can correctly guess the ending of a movie I’m watching.” 

__________

get the full version HERE

[ebenborehaus]

"untitled / the way you changed me and why I got lost in you" by Johanna K.

__________

Untitled 

The green grass and the scent of freshly born daffodils; I am surrounded by all of natures and it makes me feel the lightness of being.  My knees are stained from the grass and my hair is filled with little daisies. I touch all the little new born plants; their smooth, slender and fragile appearance makes you remember your childhood. The sweet smell of wet ground makes me want to become a plant. I will paint my hands green please let me hold on to this explainable beauty (the only thing that matters).

The way you changed me and why I got lost in you 

It always starts with holding hands. When I met you I felt myself appear. As if you planted a garden in my stomach and I had just begun to grow. The nearer you got to me the faster the plants grew.  You watered me in conjunction with holding me together. I wasn’t able to breathe before you surrounded me. It is as if I was finally able to see. When out lips met for the first time, the flowers you planted inside me emerged from my stomach into my fragile heart. I was willing to let you write your name over my body.  Since that day invisible flowers have been growing out of my eyes and I cannot see anyone else but you. I am so in love it hurts. There are butterflies trying to emerge from my body. My hands feel empty whenever yours aren’t holding them.  Now that I met you I am no longer alone. I might be lonely, yet I will never be alone again.

[ebenborehaus]

selection from Enflurane's tumblr answers, edited by E.H.

__________

Anonymous asked: Why do you have tumblr

I’m collecting data for some revolutionary psychology dissertations (you’ll see)

Anonymous asked: tell us a story

"You don’t really exist, do you?" The chances are low. Last night I saw you dancing, holding me in your arms, still, motionless. Your skin was burning, reflecting the sun, at night. We were in the garden, no, at the park, no - at the airport, train station - you were leaving, like always, and I was waiting. Gathering pieces, stitching them together, trying to build you up of what I remembered. I was touching my face, trying to find the places you had felt. Trying to find the traces of your fingertips, somewhere I was still on fire, I said, somewhere I’m burning and you are holding me. We were at the train station and you took my hand, no, my body, you hold me as close as it is possible to hold a human being, I felt my bones aching, trying to reach out for you, my body is falling apart. I’m lying under your bed in a few pieces, holding the blood and splinters of bone inside me, trying to keep quiet. But I’m here, sleeping with my eyes wide open, carrying all sorts of pain. I told you, time is the worst illusion.

Anonymous asked: what is your favorite perfume?

Each day when I wake up I rub myself against the ground. The sweet nectar of grass watered by the morning dew. Wet ground. Makes me feel so many things

Anonymous asked: talk about humans, i love when you do it

Humans? You want to talk about humans? I don’t know much about humans. I’ve seen a lot of them but only touched a few. If you’re lucky, they can make you feel a lot. Get under your skin. Make you forget that you’re just a.. Human. I’ve felt some of them and it was the most exquisite pain I’ve ever felt in my deepest cores.. The worst thing is that I’ll never forget. And the best thing is that I’ll never forget. But that is okay, because one day, I will become something else, fire, soil. And I’ll be one with everything, even if now I can’t even become one with a single thing no matter how hard I slam my body against theirs or how many secrets I reveal. And then, what I now call a forever will not matter.

Anonymous asked: what are your feelings about art?

If it doesn’t make you sick it’s not worth looking at

Anonymous asked: How do you masturbate?

Listen to whale sounds from youtube and try to concentrate all my mental sexual energy in to getting an orgasm without touching anything

Anonymous asked: can you tell us a story? it is always a pleasure to read your writing.

I don’t have stories but I can tell you.. about some things. I’ve been wanting to die since I was 13. I don’t feel like I had done any growing up after I was 16, I consider it good - I want to be an infinite, burning chaos - I don’t want youth, I don’t want age, I want my bones to rust and my organs to grow moss. Oftentimes I write like my mouth had been sewn shut. Would I rather use that energy and potential to holding someone as near to my body as I could if I had an opportunity? Maybe. So many things scare me, it’s ridiculous, I wish I was strong like a thousand year old tree but my bones can’t even bear the weight of my own heart. I wish I could put my ear against a chest and listen to the heartbeat. I used to listen to the ocean through seashells. Comparable. I always thought I was a hopeless case but I was also wishing for someone to prove me wrong

Anonymous asked: Have you ever seen something so beautiful, you'd want to live inside of it?

Oh yes - this earth, the whole concept of this world we live in. I’m glad to be participating this state, life of a simple human being. What I think is the most beautiful thing about it is that how many contradictions it holds, how it can be yet so horribly terrifying and vile, but at the same time it includes everything that we can see as something beautiful.The whole spectrum of feelings we can sense is limited on the dimensions that exist to us at this very point. We might not ever feel as much as we do feel in this life.

Anonymous asked: what are your common day to day activities?

These days I often find myself lying on the floor, curled up on a ball, a grin on my face, feeling my organs melting and penetrating the ground and reaching, growing roots and reaching for the center of the earth and look.. I don’t know how I got there or what I actually am doing there but I know that the only thing I really want right now is a heart to hold, I want to push it against my ear and hear the beating and say, “so this is how it’s supposed to work"…….

Anonymous asked: how do you deal with failures?

By smashing my head into pieces with a hammer and ripping all my limbs off mostly

Anonymous asked: How many years have you been on this earth?

i don’t know???? like it might be that my consciousness is reprogrammed every time i think i’m sleeping, maybe i’ve actually been alive just this one day and all my memories are just artificial now hey what does define me as a person how do i identify as myself how, you know, fluid is my identity and when does it actually stop being my identity, like is there a border to cross you know???? you are asking hard questions. i don’t have a memory from before than when i was like 3-4 maybe i’ve been here in some sort of continuum for an eternity but once in a while my mind is being cleansed and i’m set to start from this amoeba state again you know creating a new tabula rasa once in a while. idk man.

Anonymous asked: are you addicted to internet?

I am addicted to the romanticized idea of my own space without limitations

Anonymous asked: are you worried to grow up and go to college then work etc.?

Yeah, especially about the fact that at some point I really must ‘attach’ myself in the reality in some sort of social constancy better and before that I should get a better hold of my existence but it’s more likely happening backwards and really is even less under my control than I think it is

Anonymous asked: what do you like learning about?

Power. New forms of pleasure. Unnoticeable things which you expect to form the world around you. How things are built, how they work, how to make them work better. Destruction. Violence. Knowledge. People. The mind and the brain.

Anonymous asked: what do you like?

Different bodies of water. Trying to think outside the box.. I also like skin, touching. Some other things too. Like being explained things, and also explaining them to people who listen. I like many theories, and theorists. Punching. The fact that I have so many senses. I like a lot of things.

Anonymous asked: have you ever attempt to kill someone because of the intensity of your love? you know, keeping him/her in her/his last shape in your mind. i am talking about an abstract murder.

I attempt to kill everything in my sight each second to have it born again before me; because the beauty of things, in their supreme profundity, lies exactly in the point where the surface cracks revealing new light and shedding new blood - in this, I believe, we can, for a moment, sense an absolutely sublime feel of comprehension; and that is a feeling, I believe, that should be sought.

Anonymous asked: Are you 100 % Finnish?

I’m not even sure if I’m 100% human

Anonymous asked: Do you think that there is something after death?

You’re phrasing the question wrong. You should rather ask something like .. “how do I choose to react to the transcendental concept of death & how do I let this aspect reflect to my choices, attitudes and life in general.” But well, to answer your literal question, obviously there is. Everything starts from an ending so why would we consider our deaths to be something so special that it would have the power to cease something from happening. I mean, your death will probably be a part of the reason/cause for something more grand than your whole life was. “The void is not the void because there’s nothing to be empty of.”