physical sensation/pisking mushrooms ☆☆☆

These steep cliffs and watelands

Inside of me

And i realize now

I've lived a life of non-feeling

These hands and face could feel all these grass strands and limbs and tree trucks

And sun through my lungs

This whole time

Sensations like the cold fabrics, streams, flows of blue air 

Feel the skin on my back and the brush of hair

and violet space

This whole time

I could feel my world even more trough the physical

Disconnected from my sensations

I hope 

But not far away

We will name it someday

I felt my feelings on the inside 

Not the outside

Picking mushrooms in the forest 

renewal ☆

This looking around at trees, at houses, at the sky

I need it to survive

This looking

This joy in the small things

The grass strands and houses

A joy like we live in the world

I can see the mountain and its like a drop

A drop of life or more like

A shower

It washes me clean

With hope

Renewal

Love

Mud garden ☆☆

Like those gardens that people have

But its not like a garden

More like a haven

With big lush trees bringing shade

And a cool, and a glimt of sun

And some colorful clothes on the chlothing line

Like a drop of blood

Or a little piece of hope

That there are such things in this world

The way the sun lies on the mountain valleys, blue frosted tops on the other side

And theres another morning and i forgot my garden

The lushness dried out

And I cling to the pillow in this coat of mud

This coat of sticky red blood turning cold

I spill and turn and cry and quit

And I dont move 

or feel 

or write a second of it

betongblokk- fiks* ☆☆☆☆

Jeg er

Eller jeg føler

Disse hendene og tomlene og øynene og dette stedet kuttet i to 

opp mot en dyp blå halvdel av kloden

Opp opp opp

Mot den kalde kniven

Denne byen eller som jeg har lært det, tettstedet, og disse andre øynene og lungene og menneskene som jeg vet, jeg vet jeg kjenner

For hva er i det hele tatt et menneske om ikke bare et vesen på et tilfeldig sted i universet 

som vi har døpt et midtpunkt og kalt verden

Og hva er I det hele tatt en bokstav eller et bål eller (et liv eller) en perle eller et liv?

Hva er alle disse mikroskopiske atomene

Tredd på rekke og rad som et smykke til de blir meg 

Og hva er et meg?

For dette navnet og denne kroppen og denne plasseringen i et samfunn er noe som har begynt å sveve og gløde og noe som sakte men sikkert oppløses til aske

Stjernene krystalliseres på himmelen hver natt, med eller uten meg 

Langs grønne fjoder og skoger i et tilfeldig land i en tilfeldig verden og jeg er bare et tilfeldig menneske som føler et glimt av tilfeldigheten

Som en stor kule eller betongblokk eller stein som noen holder over hodet 

Som presser og skraper mot nakken og får knoklene til å gnistre

Men på en vakker måte

Som en byrde men også en påminnelse

Du lever, 

ikke glem det

Do not worry ☆

In this hot pan

Stovepot

I Cook and burn inside my edges

My thoughts consume and turn and burn me

Makes me move in my sleep

In my waking hours 

I worry, i worry, i worry

But you know what

It does not matter

It will all be fine

This one moment

The river and the ocean and the sounds of the ducks

The feeling of fresh water surrounding my body

Of sun on skin, of water and icecubes and letting others in

I appreciate this year

I appreciate all it has done for me

I needed it

Wholeheartedly 

I needed this pause

I dont know, maybe

Although it was painful

I dont think it could be another way

And I just want to be here

In the moment

In the feeling

And know i have things I could worry about

And turn over and over in my head

But it will all be fine

Its not the traditional route anyways

I am doing this for myself

I just need to feel and be

In this moment free

And feeling and relaxing

I have a home

And that is in me

Everything will be alright 

Feel the sounds of the watered valley, the birds singing, the saltwater, the green nature, the dark blue mirror of the sea

honeymelon ☆☆

These are the small eases

Of every day

Of walking the stairs a little slower

The taste of honeymelon

And laying in the medows

Of smelling herbs

And the flowers in the valley

Of taking that extra sip of coffee

A little slower

A little slower

We have time 

We have a whole life

The blueberries wont pick themselves

But in this moment, we have time

And the weeds wont pull themselves

And the dewdrops will cover up

But we have a whole life

In this moment, we have time 

Our people ☆☆☆

Factory morning

You never see the sun little girl

You are stiching your fingers into the fabrics of the night

Like the matchmakers and the clock girls

How can we not care enough for other peoples people

Why do we think

Just because there are different names and sounds and customs

That they are not our people

Everyone who has ever lived are a fleshed feeling human like we

No matter where from, they will always be our people

So when you see our people fleeing

Our people being bombed

Our people labouring and children starving and working or dying or children* covered in blood and dust from collapsed bulidings 

Or when your coworker tells you her whole family is dead

Dont you dare say

"This is not our people"

I dont care who you are or where you are from

A dead child is a dead child

And a murdered people are a murdered people

These are children

So they will always be our children

These are people

So they will always be our people