Fjordscene Poetry

I don’t claim to have all the answers these are just my thoughts; disorganized and fragmented as they come. A relentless stream that varies from gibberish to genius. But however smart they sound at least at times I do not […]

There’s a tree left behind in the rubble piles – its branches wind upwards among the bricks and tiles. I remember it clearly from childhood days where it stood so proudly during breaks right in the centre of the playground […]

One could write of the future. It’s just so hard. Because you then accept in advance that everything you write has a built-in expiration date. Since the date of your choice one day will no longer be in the future. […]

How about writing about something I know? Something I care about? How about not caring in advance whether the reader understands or wants to understand or whether or not it even matters? How about settling for the idea that everything […]

The stone circle in progress hums quietly to you as hills through the mist drift back into view. The faces on the stones observe you quietly as you bravely traverse this piece of history. The peat bog winks you closer […]

I want to write something beautiful. I want to write something meaningful. And perhaps that’s the entire problem. Perhaps that’s why I never get to write nearly as much as I think about writing. Reality is just not that pretty. […]

There’s mist in the valleys between the hills and the sunset sets it on fire. There’s foam on the waves rolling ashore and breaking over the pier. There’s hazy birdsong drifting down towards us on the breeze. There’s less than […]

I want to believe that I could create something that could last beyond my years. I know however how unlikely that would be. I “go there” every once in awhile and the streets remain the same but the houses change […]

The apparitions came for me again, the ghastly, ghostly figures came at dawn – why now, I do not have the time to think, reflect, certainly not to mourn a time that passed and by and large before I myself […]

Two o’clock at night; got up and lit the lamp – how long did I sleep, how long been awake? Darkness presses down, the lamp struggles sympathetically helpful to keep it at bay. I walked through a large and cold […]

Darkness descends on the city that once bustled with life and now sleeps even during the day. I look out the window and see its slow but inevitable decay. I think to myself how much easier to have been born […]

Standing there alone wondering who those people are and what they think. Milling around me, talking, but the words do not make sense. It’s endless humming without meaning, and it tires me out. From a distance every word sounds like […]

“How good for you, to travel alone, it’s so empowering!” “A modern woman shouldn’t wait for anyone; run your own show, do your own thing!” “I’m so impressed that you went all on your own!” I know there is no […]

It’s not that I don’t care it’s that I do not have the energy to respond that which you want to hear. It’s not that I don’t see it’s that I see too much of then and now and what […]

I had a dream or a vision that faded in time. And since I was too young when I had it to write it down all that is left today is a few disjointed brushstrokes in blue and green on […]

Words are empty shells – worthless to describe a world that falls through our hands like grains of sand. If you try to define your stars and how you see them shine your words will kill the wonder and leave […]

And so he died who, having lived so long, had buried so many others and never cried. And so we stood there powerless for words. A person lost, indeed, but memories and stories so much more importantly that day as […]

The wreaths laid out, the coffin so white it blinds on sight. Or perhaps it was the light in the chapel that hurt my eyes. The tapestry at the altar; interwoven roots – left in the room now root cut […]

A knot was loosened, the threads all hang and dangled in the air – How long remain together with nothing to hold them in place? The wind will throw them here and there, then they will fray, disintegrate and disappear […]

I am a 7-year-old poet, and a 26-year-old human but often it feels as if the poet has the more experience, the more to say and the better ways to say it whereas the human lags so far behind she […]