What is a LOKIproject?

"In the house of love, music never stops, the walls are made of songs and the floor dances" - Rumi


I believe in tuning the soul, just like tuning a guitar


No body likes to say it

Truth is made of gold

Everyone a winner

Truth stay's untold

Teacher says I made it

Teacher went to skool

Why is I vulcano

Feeling like a fool

U used to be a hunter

U used to ride a horse

We used to be the table

I used to be storm

I used to be the wind

U used to be the wind

We used to be the wind

We used to be the wind

Now we all made it,

Now we made of gold

Everyone a winner

Truth stay’s untold


Eddie broke down

He started smoking in the middle of the night on the middle of the road to nowhere

I even got a bit scared

Eddie might blow up in 100 pieces

But a man with nice eyes came to help us and dragged us away into the hills of Imotski

I forgot the name of the man, so I call him Marco

The next morning after a night of thunder I saw the nice collection of broke down cars Marco had

I felt at home in this old rusty graveyard

He had a little dog covered with gasoline, I said hello to the little dog twice

Marco took care of Eddie that day like a dad,

he gave Eddie some water, and an old yellow plastic cap on the watertank that got exploded

We found out that next to the car graveyard was a blue lake

located in a sinkhole deep inside the earth

We walked down in spirals and dived into the blue

Here I forgot about above and below


I don’t need you to show me that love hurts itself

I don’t follow the teachers that want to be admired, 

there are more of u then there are stars in the sky

I follow no-one 

no-one knows 

When everyone is trying to be something in this world,

Be nothing

Range with emptiness

There is not much to say in a world that is full

The truth in an empty book 

U can hear me on the other side


Don’t go back to sleep!

There is a message in you’re pain

No-one taught u how to listen

So listen to No-one

Don’t go back to sleep

Go back to the not-knowing

If u don’t know,

then u know

Inside this,

U can grow 

The power is endless

In becoming what u are

U want directions?

Well so do I

So find no-one,

and say hi

This future is promising

U can feel her in the semen of today


Now traveling in a portable home called Eddie.

Busking the streets of France, Italy and soon to be Croatia

Spare money is out of fashion, but it keeps on finding my hat

And so my journey continues, to...


Going nowhere, is just like going somewhere,

over the rainbow,

way up high

and then a bit to the left, where u have a 360• view over nothing

For now this I call my home


Speak between us

My walking friend 

U see faces in the wood-eye

And think 

-To much

Behind the ears we talk in riddles 

See us sitting under the dark

-to dark -eyed

It had its eye upon us,


We lived in this love

We contemplate

To fill the day

My walking friend

Never stops talking

About the wide -eyed

About the wide -eyed

I got so attached 

To my friend  

Who claims to be alone

While in many

we see us


I wish to know what u want

U block the road to rest

You block the eyes to see

polished stones for what they are


They have been here 

before us

They were stones 

before u

Making patterns

Like the symbols on my carpet

speak between the times

A land of stones

can make a mirror


Took me like a dream

Felt like falling

No time in lavaland

Daylight’s calling

Nightly secrets

My mind unlocks

The chambers of lavaland

I move, 

No luck..

What did the heat try to tell me

I don’t remember 

Waking up had become a daily thing


Little friend

In your little house

It’s quite a view 

there, under ground

Where roots grow wicked 

And rain has drowned

You hear us walking

In marching sound

Write us a letter

In sand and tree

So we can smell

What we can’t see

Cause from below

There is no god

Only truth 

Clean as mud

One day we’ll smell

What we can’t see 

Until then 

Just let us,

let us be


I do not Dislike horses

I just would not particularly would fall in love with them,

ride them,

or brush them with a special Horse brush,

while i tell them 

“It’s all gonna be okay”

Because it’s not

It’s either great

Or the worse - A Horse 

Is a saddle,

where I sit on

And i’m sad.

A sad  sitter

I don’t know how to ride a horse

It goes up and down and up and down

I cannot tell him, 

it’s all gonna be fine

Because it’s not. Life's a Horse





Says the judge

To the man

Who killed the girl

That killed her cat

Who killed The rat

That ate the world


I wonder about a lot of things

There is no time for me doing the dishes in the kitchen of a good

vegetarian restaurant for minimum pay wage.

For I am wondering,     at least 

A few hours a day. A few dreams at night

I do wonder about me wondering so much

I don’t like doing the dishes, just like the others

So I don’t worry about that to much

I wonder about stuff; Atoms.

Small stones; like sand.
If a sheep identifies itself being one

Sometimes. Sometimes

It makes me feel odd.

Then I wonder; why that is so

Stevie wondered to. 

Then I smile

It’s been a while…



I smiled in a picture

I was not, “sight seeing”

I liked him. And he loved me

So I killed him. That be so

He killed all my,   too.

Wrote a song about that

I was not, “Singing about love”

For, i am not ‘like them’

Wearing hats & growing beards on heads

It takes a day, restless,

as once in love, I put pen to paper.

I was not, “feeling bad”

The killings comes natural…

A poem. Later

A song; for life


I am LOKI pussy-cat’95! My whiskers fly

The lady asks me for my name. 

I tell her more

In vain. In vain. 

I tell her more

I have no answers

I just feel. A lot.

I stumble,

over my own mind

Which is a closet

For the ‘unworn’ and dusty fellas - that all took it too personal,

a while ago

The closet is a blanked

Is a cloud 

But today; in 2019.

All clouds have personalities

And I should identify 

Brand me up

It pays the bill; “nothing left to lose”, says the lady with my name

I couldn’t care less, being in love

with all the thoughts I treat myself

one day, I’ll vanish 

To dust-like mind

Till then, i’m LOKI pussy-cat’95.

My whiskers fly.