Fjordscene Poetry

sofa: a place for a mother to lie and read, dead to the world and me – a place that speaks “pain” and “tired” in words and in shifty eyes you cannot catch – tested, tried – kitchen: a place […]

feelings defy description yet must be put in words in order to be heard – family defy words, their actions wound, their words hurt – thinking makes everything worse but the mind wanders all the same – that’s the game […]

where is my father? hiding behind mother – never seen – never heard – what is a man? i don’t know if i ever saw one – i see ghosts in armour – an invisible screen separates genders no one […]

one: light spilling through the golden curtains into prison living room – of choice – the playing cards placed carefully, dirty, torn and used – clock ticking off a time unknown within – a person brooding over memories – not […]

we speak about the same thing, and the thing is not the same – we call it the same name, but proportions and perspective lie 40 years apart – in a world apart – she thinks she knows the answers […]

i understand an outburst from me must seem unfair to you – it’s like training a cat not to pee on the floor, if it happens long after it happened the cat gets mad at you and learns nothing at […]

dried-out mummy – juices drained – feelings sprained –

Once upon a time my ancestors walked this Earth, procreated and died. Now I am here – a relic of their foibles; left behind. And when I’m gone – if things were right – I’d too be passing something on. […]

You called me forth and I stumbled out into this light that blinds me. “Well, here I am – what is it that you wanted out of me? Not what you get? I see.” Well, here I stay mindful of […]

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 […]

Your parents are a fortress that serves a dual purpose: to protect or to incarcerate – Your family’s your country for better or for worse, whether you would like to stay or wish to escape – You’ll carry these with […]