The temporary sanity is running out.
You held on to it
clutched it towards your chest
and tried desperately not to let it go.
What we hold on to dearly
eventually sift through our fingers
like the white of an egg.
Wild eyes
seeing the calmness drip to the ground.
The tempest awaits
tisdag 15 mars 2011
lördag 3 juli 2010
75
One foot in front of the other.
Slowly advancing.
Arms stretched out to the sides.
Waving graciously.
One holding a little umbrella.
She takes a bow when she´s in the middle.
Applause.
Everybody´s in awe of the pretty ballerina.
Walking the rope
one foot at a time.
Slowly advancing.
Arms stretched out to the sides.
Waving graciously.
One holding a little umbrella.
She takes a bow when she´s in the middle.
Applause.
Everybody´s in awe of the pretty ballerina.
Walking the rope
one foot at a time.
onsdag 30 juni 2010
74
Lost inside the carousel.
Dizzy and desperate
to get off this
instrument of my destruction.
Mirrors reflecting
what I do not want to see.
Showing me sides of myself
I had forgotten.
Carousel spinning out of control.
Loosing grip from the ground.
The monster in me that was caged
longs for the unevitable crash.
The means to an end.
tisdag 29 juni 2010
73
Warm asphalt streets burns my feet.
Little miniature pebbles stick to my skin.
The sun reflects from every surface
making my skin produce little beads of sweat.
No wind today.
Just sun.
And Icecream.
Little miniature pebbles stick to my skin.
The sun reflects from every surface
making my skin produce little beads of sweat.
No wind today.
Just sun.
And Icecream.
torsdag 24 juni 2010
72
The streets are covered
with the remnants of our ancestors.
Broken and shattered things,
ancient and mysterious,
that our minds can not grip.
What is it they left us?
The dawning world after the rise from the nethers.
We saw it filled with new inhabitants.
Wild ones,
roaming the ruins that they claim for their own.
Streets now covered with the blood
of us and them.
Inevitable fighting of territory.
Their old world
were ours first.
And we will make it a new home.
with the remnants of our ancestors.
Broken and shattered things,
ancient and mysterious,
that our minds can not grip.
What is it they left us?
The dawning world after the rise from the nethers.
We saw it filled with new inhabitants.
Wild ones,
roaming the ruins that they claim for their own.
Streets now covered with the blood
of us and them.
Inevitable fighting of territory.
Their old world
were ours first.
And we will make it a new home.
fredag 18 juni 2010
71
From where the clouds reside
the world,
fields, rivers and cities
great and small alike,
pass by so fast.
The speed of wind.
The air pressed back by mighty wings.
From up where winds caress each other
the horizon is curved
and the earth is seen from a distance
like a map you never have use of.
the world,
fields, rivers and cities
great and small alike,
pass by so fast.
The speed of wind.
The air pressed back by mighty wings.
From up where winds caress each other
the horizon is curved
and the earth is seen from a distance
like a map you never have use of.
torsdag 17 juni 2010
70
Loud shouting from the docks
I can hear more than that from my window.
The creaking of ropes
and the complaining straining wood.
Seagulls screaming out their anger
above the waves
that are crushed against the breakers.
Flags and sails snapping at the wind.
Barrels are rolled up and down the boards
coming from or going to distand lands
that I hear smells of spice and smoke.
All that I hear.
Nothing I see
I shall never see the sea.
I can hear more than that from my window.
The creaking of ropes
and the complaining straining wood.
Seagulls screaming out their anger
above the waves
that are crushed against the breakers.
Flags and sails snapping at the wind.
Barrels are rolled up and down the boards
coming from or going to distand lands
that I hear smells of spice and smoke.
All that I hear.
Nothing I see
I shall never see the sea.
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