Writer's Notation

 The [106] poems published here in this blog are all original works, penned from 1998 to the present, covering twenty-six years of life memories and experiences inspired by life, art, friends and family. They are taken from the pages of my journal books - books numbering One through Eight. Information and back stories for the poems is posted in the Comments link to each poem.

More writings to come.

[untitled]

 april 2024

the spring started with a blizzard

heavy snowfall

...

some weeks have blurred by

maybe a month, or so

I can't remember anymore

I've been locked away again

stuck inside the prisoncell

of my head

thoughts

anxiety and depression

words to other poems

fill my mind

I've missed far too many opportunities

to write

laying late nights in bed

with headphones on

Daniel Johnston or Waylon Jennings

missing late nights - the middle of the night

alone

writing

yet I don't care

about the weed,

wine or whiskey anymore

-

oh to be creative again.

to create.

once again I'm finding it to be

a severe struggle to be happy.

feeling like

I don't want this life anymore.

Failing...at Life, and Slowly Dying

my ears ring deafening

my heart pounds hard and heavy

in my chest

my stomach is twisted in knots

I am so exhausted

I just want to sleep

sleep away life

yet the caffeine from the coffee

has me wired

wide awake

shakey and jittery

hunger does hit

my stomach grumbles

knowing I should eat

yet I can not

can not bring myself to do so

the thought of food

the thought of eating

my stomach twists and knots more

I get nauseous

I go numb

the shakes and jitters return

overtaking my body

it's a fear

the fear grasps me

failing...at life

falling apart 

-

love and hate, hate and love

beginning to hate the love, and

love the hate

how will this life

of a broken man end?

how will death be?

Out of Work, and the Possibility of Divorce

beautiful days are gone

the fire inside

that once burned for passion

and inspiration

is dying out

the positive hippie vibes

and love was suppose to be

the most powerful thing

it's all rotted away

forty-three years of life

and I have nothing

positivity and love

have become a lie

turning to hate the world

this is no life to live

[untitled]

we shall overcome

words

along with music notes

on the upper left corner

of sculpture art

in the skövde library

I sit

trying to write my thoughts

of despair

those words

we shall overcome,

I need to overcome

those words

they fall into place so perfectly

in this moment of life

a stupid cliche

for inspiration

[untitled]

an april spring tuesday

I stood in the bedroom

folding laundry on the bed

staring off

out the bedroom window

out over the balcony

the paved pathway

cutting through the still barren trees

the woods

it was the apartment in sweden

I thought about the traded view

the apartment in norway

the balcony there

out over the rooftops of wooden houses

the street of lokkeveien

out to the fjord sea waters

two different scenes

still - all mother nature

New England Memories

non-existent

new england memories

I was born there

but raised in the south

now I live in norway

a small seaside village -

son

...

son reminds me

of those memories

I never knew