Fjordscene Poetry

i know that i know nothing – that is the curse of intelligence – i think i should right people’s wrongs but how when no word comes out of my mouth without being followed by its opposition woven together by […]

being yourself is easy – there’s nobody else you can really be – i could imitate you but that wouldn’t make me stop being me –

nothing hurts more than seeing your own faults filtered through another person – your own wants projected on another – your own thoughts completely skewed when uttered by another – where find mooring? there’s one place only for that – […]

toughness in the thick-rimmed titanium glasses – square jaw held high – sure of himself – sure of his field and that he knew all of it though fallen ten years behind – why care to learn? better pretend and […]

chaos in and out of everything – cringe my way out of my skin – turn it inside out to hide behind the way i feel inside – squiggle into my cavern of truth examine the scars others left me […]

Though said that I have principles, ideals and dreams of better futures worth the building, is the truth not rather, somehow still, that no thought of mine ever soared so high that I didn’t, beneath it, secretly yearn to shear […]

I would write, I would write but I am tired and the words don’t come – perhaps tomorrow or any other day but today. But if I say that every day I may never get to write again and that […]

Light creeps in everywhere to burn away its detractors – the shade runs for cover and I with it – the day struggles with the night and only reluctantly allows it life – the day recuperates to resume the fight […]

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 […]

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 […]

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. […]

My biggest wish for the future is that everybody would stop pretending that they are perfect when they all know they’re not. My perfect scenario being universal honesty about our faults and fears and vulnerability. But since everybody else seem […]

There… there… no, I failed to grasp it again but I was close this time… That word just keeps eluding me… I have it… I have had it… I had it… It’s gone… I speak the things out loud inside […]

I have been torn between the world and writing – writing is demanding, leaving little to the world once it has been written. But the world, moreover, continues to enrage, disappoint and sadden me, so I have surrendered at least […]

I am basically not as imaginative as people might think when reading my fiction. I do not “invent” fiction – I only fictionalize reality. I think the biggest barrier I had to overcome when I started writing prose fiction rather […]

Hver lyd der udstødes trækker energi med sig – min mund udtaler min dødsdom. Til sidst suges følelserne ud gennem porerne så jeg sidder tilbage tom, summende af andres nærvær indtil processen vender og mine porer suger deres fremmede essens […]

Jeg er hende hvis øjne lyser op når de ser ting du ikke kan se – jeg er hende der forærer dig en digtsamling i form af stilhed – jeg er hende som accepterer din tilstedeværelse og måske havde kunnet […]

A lonely being, standing at the crossroad, abandoned by your family and friends – the healthy, youthful lot who once stood by you, now long gone – used as firewood by humans, made into planks, tools, ornaments of unknown use […]

I’ve wished that I was beautiful, spent years pining therefore – and wasted years on dreaming me into something I couldn’t be – just this I am; a crooked tree; the only beauty found in me sounds through my crooked […]

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 […]