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Poetry by Ina Schroders-Zeeders

Poetry by Ina Schroders-Zeeders.

during the sunset

during the sunset
all fire alarms went off

during the sunset
you didn’t blink at all
an understatement

last view of this life
a good time to ponder
during the sunset


Eye surgery

I am gone for a bit to the hospital on the main land, for this afternoon my right eye will be operated on, the same vitrectomy as a few years ago on my left eye, and the next day I shall have an EMG-test for my right arm (which makes me doubt the meaning of the word right :) ) As my eye will need a bit of rest, this means not too much watching the screen.

Hope to be back writing, reading, liking and commenting on Word Press soon! See you all! :) xx

Comercial Break :)

800 followers, that is a milestone to celebrate :) Thank you all for reading my blog!

And whilst I am having your attention:

Both my poetry anthologies “Veritas” and “Amor” are also available on Kindle!

My page on Amazon



Just saying ;)

Because of you

I can not move, I’m numb and holding breath
and all because of you. You took over
my body and my thoughts. I can not
remain like this, not breathing, not moving
not noticing the sun shine, creeping over walls
touching your hair, nor hear the rain falling down.
But for now, this is fine. I smell your skin
and with all on hold the day begins.

‘Photography on wings’


An exhibition in Nottingham UK I would love to go to. It has poetry by Marie Marshall (kvenna ráð) one of my fav. poets!

Originally posted on Marie Marshall:

Final Flyer Photography on wings is the title of an exhibition, to be staged in Nottingham from 7th June to 31st July, of the photographs of Harminder Nagi . The photographs, all of winged creatures, will be accompanied by poetry by twenty international poets including myself. The exhibition is an extension of the book Continents Connect: poetry on wings  which was published in 2012. If you’re anywhere near Nottingham between the dates mentioned above, please do make a point of going along to visit the exhibition. For those of you who can’t make it, here’s the poem I wrote for the book; it’s called ‘Eros and Psyche’, and I wrote it as though for Emily Dickinson.

I have your beauty safe in a box, ever since
I scotched my shoulder with a half-nocked arrow.
Sometimes I let it out to sit amongst the flowers
and drink; it settles until I shade it from the sun.

Things like…

View original 71 more words


After I asked you where you would like to go,
there was some kind of confusion I’m afraid,
which had everything to do with your answer,
the description of that place.

I am so sorry for my funny behaviour,
more to the fact: that I slapped you in the face
but I didn’t realize that “down under”
is a geographic phrase.


A thousand-thousand butterflies


kvenna ráð is one of those poets I truely admire. her poems are often mysterious, often funny. this one I think is the best, but you must judge for yourself and read her blog! :)

Originally posted on kvenna ráð:

© Marie Marshall

© Marie Marshall

orange 2

View original

Apart we stand

Apart we stand as thrown away from love,
alone and tired, waiting for a ring
but no, the phone is dead and I won’t sleep
as well as when your breathing follows mine.

Apart we live our lives through thick and thin,
for what it’s worth, I never loved again,
I miss your presence, your reclining chair.
No I don’t care that you don’t ring no more.

We lie our lives pretending all is well
but nothing is, we stand as thrown away,
apart we are alone, and tired we move on.
I shall not phone you but I miss your voice.

New knee (Italian sonnet)

Now walking is an issue more than norm,
as rotting knees prevent my daily round,
no excercise can keep me well and sound,
my body lost its shape, is losing form.

I’m wrecked in ice and sea before a storm,
my hope is gone to get to safer ground,
and godforsaken I shall die, unfound;
how can I feel not bad but good and warm?

You say a new knee might just do the trick,
I must admit this sounds as if good sense,
the specialist will help, my hope returns.

Maybe one day I’ll lose that wretched stick.
Although I think his skills must be immense
to make me whole – I shall not have concerns.



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