Tag Archives: pain

På SPA i underetasjen


I går våknet jeg helt tigerløs, helt lotteløs.

Om natten hadde jeg bråvåknet av at hendene mine lette etter meg selv, etter mine egne tapte og ødelagte deler.

Våt  i håret, på hendene, nedover halsen, av tårer.

Nyoperert (igjen) og så hjelpeløst utslitt, sorgfull og uendelig lei av denne tilstanden, dette lange ufrivillige opphold i Fandens eget SPA.


Natt eller morgen?  


Nattens sorg treffer meg sidelengs

Våkner gispende etter overflaten, etter luft


Vill av frykt

av  flukt

av sorg

løp sjelen min natten igjennom

som en sinnsyk, en fortapt, over jordet


Prøvde å finne igjen delene som er borte

mens bølgene kvernet videre uten å bry seg


Jeg så at armene var på plass, i det minste

Ville, som håret og øynene

ser ut som jeg ikke har surfet før


Rett før lyset bryter helt gjennom

forteller du meg at nå fløy gjessene mine forbi,

de har ikke dratt likevel


Er det morgengryet eller natten som forteller meg sannheten?



Greyhound days


Here is an old poem; from over a year ago, I think.

How distant I feel to the glossy «mummy-magazines», they make me queasy with their fake, pastel version of existence.

Burn the magazines and be real, with your child, your lover, your life.


Greyhound days

They slip away more every day

The open spaces within my mind


Room for roaming

My wild leopards

Bush fires

Jungle sweat


Occupied by

Child, man, needs

Thoughts taking flight crash and burn




5.30 alarm


I need more


Where are my night thoughts

The darkness

What took them

– just time, domestic


Gone, the watching of tree patterns on the sky

Endless moments

Soul sky high


I need more

So, in a hard voice I tell the boy

Go away

Instant regret of mother heart

(that wild thing in me)


The walls fall in on my forest clearings:

The childhood fairytale

of dancing elves

The existence of princes

Joyful fear,

knowing dragons are in the caves



School bullies

Stretching exercises of the soul

Finally, the boundaries are unseen


Oh yes, there has been

Fear, pain, boredom:

No lack of challenges


Racehorse days

Greyhound days

I try to catch even the shadow of my soul

Before sundown, exhaustion


Love is the jailor

Insane love, wild love

How fortunate I am

To be an invaded space




I wrote this poem over a year ago, and I am still very fond of it, without knowing exactly why. I’ve known a lot of physical pain, and pain seems to be part of my life for the long haul, something I’m trying to get to grips with. I’ve  also known so much kindness, and I hope I give some of that back, to people I know and those I don’t know. More and more, I realise the impact meeting someone can have, even for a short time, as long as the connection is real. A conversation, a hug, a friendship, fun and laughter. Love.




Sometimes I think I can see

The footprints of pain that was here

Traces on my body from enduring

For a long time, that was all there was

Cells, vessels and curves imprinted


What  does pain look like

fire, ice, knives

I know its sound, I think

Cackling and howling

I hear it whispering when it’s tracking me down


Free me

Please just free me

From the pain graffiti


Does the body know now

How to let it go?

Its memoirs so harshly printed

Every letter hammered in place

Graffiti on my bones

How can I trust the body that is me


Free me

Please just free me

From the pain graffiti


Does love, does kindness

Leave traces too

I want prints of your hands to stay

Fluorescent waves, firework tracks

My body will glow in the dark


Your eyes as they watch me sometimes

In a glimpse knowing me,

A piece of my core understood

Your gaze leaves forever marks

Lovely wing marks fluttering over my cheeks, hips, hands

Love graffiti


Free me

Please just free me

With your love graffiti