I’ve recently been thinking a lot about a blue piano. For some reason unknown to me, I really would like an old fashioned blue piano with a lock and an old key. I want to paint it myself and give new life to an old piano. I want herbs to grow in the windowsill and hang them upside down in the kitchen to dry. Or maybe they have to be…
lump in my throat, shallow breath, racing heart after pulling down the net from my ceiling…collecting material from outside my door, where those who visited reflected. the net had become so tangled with time, it did not want to come down…leave the nest……foggy mind, sensitive skin, heightened hearing. desire to stay in my tableaux now even though I spent the morning longing to say goodbye, hungry to jump out into…
Out of the ground Into the sky I stretched out my green Darkness, cold, It has always been my mode of being. When I first did the poetic self exercise I thought my name was the illness, the darkness or the grey, but when we did it the second time all I could see was green. Growth. I had already grown. The green. A symbol, a metaphor of growth. It…
The rime I have spent being a part of the Sisters Hope performance method here at Ryslinge Højskole will forever resonate with me. I feel that I have learnt so much more about both myself and the sensuous world in general. There has definitely been a lot of lessons along the way, som of them probably lifelessons. Exploring my poetic-self is on thing i will never forget, living in sand,…
Everything ever thrown away, every feeling suppressed, every memory forgotten, it all ends up at the bottom of the ocean. Beneath the waves and the current, at the cold dark bottom The Leviathan wanders aimlessly collecting the memories, traumas, and feelings from the world above as little grains of sand. Every bottle of sand holds thousands of different memories from thousands of different people. Created at the time of the…
Endless steps like ticking seconds of a clock infinite hours Steps and staircases in a spiderweb’s tangled maze Paths for getting lost and being found The deep breath of a corridor blows out the light of one candle, another ignites another time, another place Infinite stories flow through my stairs, my shelves The blood in my veins Pieces and memories of life and love as old as time itself Protected…
I am The Phoenix. My wings are of fire and my tears are of hope. I move through countless cycles of death and rebirth during my time on earth. My first death reduced me to coal and ashes, but after some time, I was embraced by a motherly wing and was cried back to life. Her tears had healing powers which cleansed my perished coals and ignited a new fire….
In the dark and cold depths of the ground I was born as a single seed. The darkness was my world, the cold was my everything. It was my home. But slowly I started to grow. At first I only grew in the dark, but then one day. Warmth. I had met the shell of the earth, and an unfamiliar feeling had penetrated my dark home. Even though everything in…
Now fading Touch turning into fingers melting into skin Burning through flesh Marking our bodies … like ash traces like sod from The Spreading Fire Transitioning Going, going, gone I have only just begun Oh how sorrowful and exciting this parting Sounds of tears and snorts coming from my right As we sigh our goodbyes visually impaired Am I mist clouding my insides blurring vision blocking out .. preventing me…
Somewhere in between mouthfuls I look up. I look up and catch your eyes across the table. Mid-air, hovering wet. Break. Break. With a breath I pluck them both, scoop them up from somewhere above the water pitcher, and put them in my pocket safe. Blinking, we continue. – Punch lines delivered backs of hands kissed stories shared, ripe and full skins shining red This songs melody dogged and swerving…