east side takn ova
Posted: February 28th, 2011, 5:44 pm
I need to, well i have allready started on this some time ago, i have to go native with my writing.
but im still reading in here. good people.
In Europe there is always the issue with what language you should attribe in the prosess of poetical conception. I 4 1, have, as you may know, taken to the English/American way.
And when i Say WAY:
I mean the mind sparks and runs when in brittish mode, as it, at the same time, just fucking frezzes when it comes to using my own mothertounge, Norweigian. One is flowering out of rosy-tingle-tunes towrds the three topps. while the other...bahh... naked stones in a still water.
I aim forward now. And the road ahead is filled with sharp consonants and eager Vocals. Rhymes that dont add up. in english they dont give a shit about what your saying. and everything rhymes with some shit
so to write in my own language, as i now damn well will have to do, i can only hope that ma bros Hamsun and Bjørneboe holds a light over my efforts.
in the creative business of words, I belive in using and perfecting, exploring and recreating your own little street-wise tounge. I always belived that, but the differences beetween the two sides of the world is trouble for a writer with no concept of disipline or carpenting.
Fuck is one of the words ill miss, and it was sad to see the beatyfull poem of stilltruckn waving at me as i entered the room. sad and beautyful world.
but we have this word, thas pretty nice as well.
Im writing now for the future of my town and for my fellow
citizens. songs of us. short stories.
gettn back in light
east side takn ova.
-shark
but im still reading in here. good people.
In Europe there is always the issue with what language you should attribe in the prosess of poetical conception. I 4 1, have, as you may know, taken to the English/American way.
And when i Say WAY:
I mean the mind sparks and runs when in brittish mode, as it, at the same time, just fucking frezzes when it comes to using my own mothertounge, Norweigian. One is flowering out of rosy-tingle-tunes towrds the three topps. while the other...bahh... naked stones in a still water.
I aim forward now. And the road ahead is filled with sharp consonants and eager Vocals. Rhymes that dont add up. in english they dont give a shit about what your saying. and everything rhymes with some shit
so to write in my own language, as i now damn well will have to do, i can only hope that ma bros Hamsun and Bjørneboe holds a light over my efforts.
in the creative business of words, I belive in using and perfecting, exploring and recreating your own little street-wise tounge. I always belived that, but the differences beetween the two sides of the world is trouble for a writer with no concept of disipline or carpenting.
Fuck is one of the words ill miss, and it was sad to see the beatyfull poem of stilltruckn waving at me as i entered the room. sad and beautyful world.
but we have this word, thas pretty nice as well.
Im writing now for the future of my town and for my fellow
citizens. songs of us. short stories.
gettn back in light
east side takn ova.
-shark