My fantasy broke

All my energy was consumed

In being kind

erasing objections,

demands and will.

Play and foolishness,

thoroughly erased.

My fantasy broke into pieces.

Elderly elderly

I used to deliver remedies,

remembered and solved

even tricky computer problems.

Now referred to as “elderly elderly”

Thoughts fail and fade into a fog

Grey and unimportant

Avoid machines,

And in need of humans.

Jails of anxiety

You waited many years

Gave yourself the question:

When will he ever step outside?

Leave the jails of anxiety

Make another try

Does the ice carry his weight?

Forget yesterday, trust what is.

Thin ice

A nearby water shed

The ice is thin and black

A few centimeters thick.

No broken channel through the ice

Do you have the guts?

Does the ice carry you?

Now you leave the shore and no way back.

It fails and sway.

Soon solid ground near the other shoreline.

Apple

Dive your teethes into an apple

Sense lightly sweated juices sprinkle

at lips and palate

That´s all.

Late November

Your room bathes in abundant sun
today a momentary favor
in late November,
no longer gray.
Leave the belief you have to improve.
Tear off your preservatives coarse as car tires
Those still hanging there,
anxiously praising their own excellence,
despite they deliver the opposite.
Do exist in this very word
I will pronounce
now.

A chateaux of words

This morning the activities in my mind hover above the overall view of what I do. I ponder on the fact that they frequently do so. My attempts are to identify what I seem to be doing and judge the value of what I see. I use to end up with a simple answer of yes or no, accept or deny. Moving forward the same old way or blaming myself for doing so. I realize I base my choice solely on my references and capacities.

At this time in my morning flow, I recall having proceeded totally in my private chateaux of words. A seemingly well-defended building in which I reside. I feel safe but lonely and want to let someone in, let someone be important. Many individuals exist close to me physically. But, I suspect I am still “on guard” emotionally.

At this very moment, I recall the emotions from yesterday visiting the Giacometti exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art in Stockholm. During several minutes I stand in front of a single item in the show. Barely able not letting the massive multitude of statues to distract me. Now, I recall that single statue and my memory of that single moment. I sense something I have not experienced before and for which I have no words. And I succeed in not catching some noun and pin it on this event.

What am I about to tell myself at this very moment? Do I ask myself to try to peak outside my verbal defences? Yes, I assume so! Let us fo there…

A green door

Do I dare
walking downstairs
to the cellar?

Years ago someone threw,
a wrinkled piece of paper and text
up the stairs.
He existed down there
or the wind.

Today I open the green door,
descend that same flight of stairs.
My senses are in full swing.