poetry
Background and French Inspiration
From a young age, I have been captivated by the beauty of various art forms, including poetry and literature. My early fascination with music compositions and the artistry of chess led me to overlook the profound depths that writing could offer. Over time, my passion for all forms of writing blossomed. It was in Italy in 1986 that I wrote my first poems. After returning to Finland and having my first concert in 1987, I found poetry a powerful art form. After delving into the works of countless poets, I ultimately discovered the enchanting realm of French poetry through Baudelaire and Rimbaud, where my spirit truly found its home. Those poets opened my eyes to a breathtaking universe filled with dreams. I was completely captivated by this profound sensation. It began to influence my creative expression in music and poetry, and its impact later found its way into my visual art.
Composing music and writing poems in Florence, Italy, in 1986.
The Union of Music and Poetry
My fascination with poetry and its potential to combine with other artistic forms blossomed in my next composition, “Tales for String Quartet”. The spark for this work was ignited by one of Baudelaire’s poems from his book “Le Spleen de Paris”. In 1988, I presented this piece at a composition competition in Finland, where I shared the second prize. Nearly a hundred compositions were submitted anonymously. The jury noted that all the winning works were of very high quality. Read more here.
Evolving and Publishing
My poetry collection “UNIEN VUOSISATA” (Century of Dreams) will be published in Finnish and English. I have chosen poems from many decades that capture the beauty of life, drama, memories and echoes from the past. The book will be available through major online bookstores in 2025. Below are some poems from the book.
Radiant stairs 1
on the breakwater,
the lighthouse spilled its comforting light
onto the restless skin of the sea…
a rain, as pale as memory,
began carefully irrigating
the blossoming eternity of your eyes,
the sound of your footsteps, fading away
towards the brightness of the stars
i whispered your name – just once –
not to call you back but to hear
how it trembled on my tongue
before dawn,
before it would be too late
Radiant stairs 2
what forced me here? was it fear?
that terrible, yawning solitude
that waits beneath all things?
that delicate, unhealed wound
that never forgets where it was born:
carved by beauty, kept alive by grief,
still pulsing…
tell me –
when we vanish,
do our shadows still dream of us?
still searching the shorelines
for something
they once held in their arms?
Aesthetics
on the wall:
fractured abstractions of chaos theories
trapped in square angles of view
outside:
beneath a lunatic moon
I pushed rusty cartwheels
on cloud-covered roofs
toward the sleeping sky,
an abyss in front
full of words stained with silence
on a freshly painted canvas
Film Noir Influences
trains howl through the night
like fevered ghosts in the misty rain,
to avoid touching
the fragility of the spiral stations:
shell beach, shell beach… next stop!
trembling fingers hold newspapers
that promise –
order in the chaos of waiting
Final Rehearsal
i dread those scenes
where the victims play every role…
in fairy tale settings,
a single beat of your wing
reminds me
of the anatomy of contradiction!
The Lost Ones
in the scorching midday heat
we wandered enchanted
along golden marble alleys
where dirty eyes glowed like fireflies…
far away, in a valley,
shrouded in fire and ice,
your body is filled
with the mysterious gentleness
of the sand winds