Archive for April, 2015

Coffee table

Once we were grains in the wood,
Unexpectedly bending curves,
Islands on a table top, waves around.

Now every day has the same rhythm
While you and I have lost the wildness
and gained so much good, so much balance.

Our roads are straight with walls of obligations,
Narrow alleys of glistening wet stones,
And at home the coffee table carries two remote controls.

Now and then the port and coffee stains
Tell me of our history, making me want to remember
How we once were constructed in wood.

One with the world

I step out the door and the world steps inside me,
Streets carry my blood, the sky is my skin.
I walk as the hours turn over the world.

The moon might be dream, the darkness will sleep me.
I step out the door and the world steps inside me.
The trees are my arms holding on to each other.

Through water I walk, but the water is me,
And birds start to know me as birds of a feather.
I walk as the hours turn over the world.


Speeding, falling, almost landing in the abyss
My thoughts of you keep dancing, fluttering:
Four yellow butterflies, tumbling,
Twirling, jumping, drifting,
Mischievously flirting
With flowers in the shade,
Making a double somersault,
Reuniting me
With life.

Old photo

Come have a look at how it was to be:
The quietness and turquoise walls, a day
In sunshine never ending, you and me.

This photo shows it all and let us see
The colours of our love when it was May.
Come have a look at how it was to be

When both of us expected either way
We would be blessed for our eternity
In sunshine. Never ending. You and me.

The image, ruined by perfect stains of tea,
Has nothing more to add, no more to say.
Come have a look at how it was to be.

Our days have been, time is a referee.
We both seek shelter, hide in fear and pray
In sunshine, never ending you and me.

The photo you tore up deliberately
Shows ghosts, who, now it is our time to pay,
Come have a look at how it was to be
In sunshine. Never ending. You and me.


The calendar seems to never end for those in despair.
December is the lights of Lampedusa.
Where will we be by then?
Seas have horizons to start eternity again,
But hope is lost when months no longer care to have a name.

The water turns a darker shade than yesterday
And it is April now. A promise should be in the air.
A silence speaks of tragedies underneath the surface.

Strange fish will be caught at the end of the year
by the fishermen of Lampedusa.

What we remember

Rounder than a full moon but just as pale
Is this perfect memory of feelings
Nailed on the wall of time, framed in golden,
Watercolours fading in each other
The almost white pink of our tenderness,
The blueish green of mornings without you,
An image of all we thought was forgotten.
But the nail is squeaking in the evening breeze
And one day the wall will let go of everything.

Loud thoughts

Unattached balloons and birds are cruising the blue sky.
No one seems aware of them and out of sight they fly,
These thoughts, too noisy in my head where I can’t lie,

Screaming pain in orange lines that no one hears, gone by
Far beyond where unattached balloons escape to, high,
Exploding in the universe. Why, I wonder. Why?

There: a silence in our love, or so we often said,
Only fading whispers, and some sighs would leave our bed,
That was so obvious from the day we wed.

Then you took me to a place where children played, they set
Off bright and light balloons. ‘t Was there where we made a bet:
the orange ones would be the fastest; it were the red.

These thoughts, too noisy in my head where I can’t lie,
Exploding in the universe. Why, I wonder why
That was so obvious from the day we wed.

Where my imagination ends

The sea and sky were one this morning when
I tried to find my ground as I walked by,
The water, flat, no waves, no movement.

Unnoticed I went past the sleeping gulls,
The sea was silvery and gold as well,
With birds awaiting the new day to live.

I felt somebody watching me somewhere,
Some geese woke up, came flying over me.
The sky and sea were split. The line now showed

Where my imagination ended. ’t Was
You whom I felt near. Alone I watched the clouds
Go by, perhaps like you, returning home.

Holiday in my mind

I made myself think I was traveling,
Not on my way to the doctor’s as such was the truth,
But traveling to where a welcome would wait.

The mood I was in, changed from worst to much better.
I imagined the trip in every detail.
I made myself think I was traveling.

The ferry I took went to much further places,
The country was foreign and strange
Though the people were nice and friendly to me.

Feeling cured when I entered the room
I made myself think I was leaving again,
So, far from the doctor I went.

Now I’m back from this holiday in my mind,
I’m well, I’ve been on a journey from worst to much better
In a place where a welcome was waiting for me.


Making memories fly

Our thoughts hanging over us,
invisible text balloons, colliding, flirting,
some of yours mating with mine,
and new thoughts are born.

They will once set off into life,
freed cage birds,
no longer intertwined in our speech, gone
with more and more blue skies in between.

You have a way with words, I say
and I think you know what I mean,
as your hands are a bird now,
flying silently, fluently, away.

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