Pharisaic lifetime of a saint.
And the whole house could have burned,
a little part of today
is now way too much for those who care,

we should have burned inside.

The clock nearly ticking its way out,
in the kitchen, a church basement,
below the elderly need of time,

and its epoch stopped and stared.

Should we really care?

We surely need a comforter in this town,
girl, this is wakefulness we enshrine,
in all its story, the holy glory,

of a man walking upon life without an end.

Should we start over again?

Proceed your age,
give me a first aid,
for I´m semisacred.  
Viktor Kaldalóns
1987 - ...


Ljóð eftir Viktor Kaldalóns

Sær í átt að sæng.
Ástarljóð til hins visna.
Minn kæri vin... það mun versna.
Málverk stöðnunar.
St. Coll.
Windows blow in like ten thousand ice floes upon the snowy quarters.
The brighter side of the day goes down in three, two, one...
Náðarhögg.
The first lightpost on St. Coll.
My date of birth kept in memory of a bartender (pt. one).
My date of birth kept in memory of a bartender (pt. two).
It feels like dying, you know...
Útöndun.
Our graves undulate with fever.
Fáninn lágreisti.
The regent roads to nowhere; the end of the world.
Just like the corner of all nights.
Just like the corner of the day...
Tunglhaf.
Anddyrið kringum sviðið.
Lágröddun.
Væg túlkun.
The dead queen and us.
Endir á litblæ, hulinn bær.
Útrýming.
Líflaus blómstrun.
Skýrar, en þó svo daufar.
Sunnudagsgredda.
Dálæti; og ástin bíður ósigur.
Brotin umgjörð.
Svartur er sjórinn.
Horfin fjarvera.
Og allt varð grátt.
Ljóðið fannst aldrei.
The lively queen and us.
Tilvonandi Eilífðartími.
Dökk spor.
Í eyði.
The prime of the queen.
Sýningin tælandi á sviði slökknandi borgarljósa.
Regina.
Upstream they went towards the valley.
Contiguous grapevine, old and all around.
Unsuited.
Carry a no-win mist inside God´s acre.
With only a wire and death attached.
Drizzling in tween the rest.
Without a pole star and wherries to take us home.
I will leave you dumfounded just like before.
Heilög borg?
Well lit allure of anesthesia.
My naked naiad.
Pharisaic lifetime of a saint.
Einfari; loftmengun.
Brúðguminn.
Þú og ég.
Ylur.
Herskari.
Örvilnun skýjaglópana.
Sjónarhorn skuggsælla engla í sorgarklæðum.
Lof efstu svalanna.
Það er að stytta upp.
Vöggugjöf launmorðingjans.
Blessun.
Fjárhagsörðugleikar nútímablíðu.
Von er...
Vonleysi er...