Filling formerly used in life jackets.

Life jackets. PFD Personal Flotation Device

First used in 1854.

1854 Fictional detective Sherlock Holmes is born

Sherlock Holmes died 7 July 1930

Lifesavers invented in 1912

Production moved in 2002 to Montreal, Québec, Canada


A Highway

I drove a highway, leading
me away from what I knew
what I loved, what I thought
would love me in return,

I gathered hitch-hikers up
going the same way, as I
travelers were we,
without a common past
without a common future,

I went a traveling
along a coastline, winding
the road, my senses,
lost in curves, the passions
the night images fading
in my mind, in my eyes,

This life, this time
one thought incomplete
throwing me off the road
leaving where I thought I’d be
if only for that one idea
if only for the one lover who scorned me
left me alone, with candles burning
with the wine alone for me to drink,

I took to the road, drunk and disorderly
wanting to end her memory, end her life
she took the wheel from me,
stopping me from swerving left,
turning right, ending right,

I drove a highway, leading
away from what I knew, who I loved
but who didn’t love me,

I drove a highway, smiling
together with someone, who dared ride along,
together with the likes of me, daring her to
taking a chance, taking control,

I drove a highway, carefully
wanting to protect, to care, to love
wanting to love, another day more
wanting to live, another life more,

Wanting, a new highway
to call home….

When Water is Called Maji

A short language primer:

Jambo – Hi

kuku – Chicken

Habari – It is going

gani? – how?

Habari gani (It is going, how?)

The language Swahili (Kiswahili)

My teacher – M.W….

Where – Denmark

When – 2006

A nice fellow, from Kenya, taught me some of his native language, while we worked together for a short time. He was always patient with me, and gave me encouragement to learn words like Mbaya sana, and Misuri sana – useful when communicating with my dentist, who wrote down my expressions, thinking that she too would use them someday?

Language is a funny thing. In 2010 while visiting Copenhagen, I ran into my language teacher and his mother at the Main Train Station completely by chance, with his mother being newly arrived from Kenya. I used all of the Swahili, I could remember, making her reply:

“Was it my son that taught you that? He is very clever, isn’t he?”

Yes, he was. And that warmed the heart of his mother greatly during the first few minutes of her visit to Denmark. Where Danish is usually spoken, but in a pinch, you might just hear Swahili spoken by someone with an American Accent…..


And You Never Thought

Did you ever imagine
us being together?
all those times, all those doubts
everything you said, thought, felt

Your limitations
your expectations
not easy things to reconcile

Did you ever think
that this day would come?
in the farthest stretches
of your imagination, your hopes,
your fears?

This day
the single most important day
in both of our lives
the day when we’ve chosen
to commit ourselves,
to a life together,

When you had thought about
someone to share your life with
someone, not being me
your expectations getting the better
of you,
your dreams telling you
that ours was not to be

Think about the journey
how far we have traveled together
in body and soul
in thinking and dreaming
in every aspect that two people
could share

Did you ever imagine
us being together?

Well, quite frankly
neither did I…..


North Towards the City of Aalborg


I might have considered taking the train southwards, but some might object traveling to Aarhus! It is not easy pleasing everyone, you know.


My route via bicycle lay to the north. On the right-hand side of this photo.


The path went from asphalt to dirt, with mud enough for everyone.


I was following a stretch of Hærvejen (Army Road) which is also called, “The Ancient Road” in English. http://www.haervej.com/ln-int/haervej/ancient-road-haervejen

hærvejen aalborg

Here is my route, seen by the black oval area. On the homepage there is an interactive map in which you can either choose biking, or walking.


My route now was following a small waterway called Østerå. This flows along some wetlands where water birds can be seen. It finally ends its days under the town square in Aalborg, called Nytorv, before it flows into the Limfjord Canal.


If you were starting to miss out on my train-madness, there was a crossing up ahead.


Google felt again that I needed a stylized photo of this crossing of Østerå.


Along this stretch of tracks the “Veteran Tog” –  Heritage Train. The sign tells how the train doesn’t travel along this stretch of tracks, due to construction/work on the rails.

There is some information in English to be found here: http://www.limfjordsbanen.dk/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=37&Itemid=237&lang=en


My way continues towards the center of the City, now only 2.9 kilometers away.


A short video showing the Heritage Train drive past the Main Post Office just south of the Main Train Station.

Next blog in this series: Finally in Aalborg!


Her Poetic River

I wanted
nothing more
than to sail along
her poetic river,

A fervent wish
a dream
a want, gnawing
at my soul
my oars
at the ready, waiting
for the call, the call
to her arms

She considered
my attention, thus
but concentrated, she was
by what she wrote
what stretch
of her imagination
painting portraits of those
whose inspiration dared
to stem the tides of social injustice
or, fought to shelter the homeless
the forgotten, those unloved

I was not important
my name not being one
that others would utter
not who would strive for equality
nor one who would speak out
when all others became deaf and dumb,

Her poetic river flowed
along the streets of the city
its waters lapping at the edges
the cardboard cities, the street-kitchen
housing, feeding the masses
painting murals, boldly written
with words of defiance, of discontent
lamenting being born
lamenting being alive,

Her prose, an endless green vine
encompassing the stories of the city
everyone should be, needs to be heard
no pain left uncovered, no hurt left unhealed,

My modest craft challenged her waters,
but it flowed more swiftly than I could imagine,
revealing stones dotting the bottom with faces
faces revealing who had been here, who were gone now
the fires along the shore kept me wary,
the cold nights giving way to cheerless days,
the mood changed as she flowed on by
the hope, the renewal she spoke of
what the others only nodded in agreement,

What hope flows by what we write
what we see, what we feel,
our words champion the cause of
righteousness, of brotherly love
of the belief that tomorrow can, will be better
than today, if only,
if only we accept and embrace, the differences
between us, no color to regard as being
the one, not the only one,

She noticed my attention,
my comprehension of what lies
outside my safer sphere, the warm rooms
food readily available, the loving family,
slowing the waters a bit
allowing me to catch up with the main flow
she allowed me to travel along for a bit, while
we paid homage to the scenes and sights,
the people proud, they who comprise the city
around us, in us,

Her poetic river
changing the way I feel
changing the way I write

for changes alter the way we think
the way our own poetic river will flow

-will flow with our words, our thoughts

-our thoughts, can change the world…


Pizza, Because I am Nice

I walked past my daughter’s room the other day, when she called out for me to come in.

“Did you read my message?” meaning that she had texted my cell phone.

“No, No I didn’t. But I am here now”, I said

“Go back, find your cell phone and read the message”. She insisted

I walked back to the other side of our house and looked around for my cell phone. Upon finding it I could confirm that I had “gotten mail”.

“Dear Dad. Don’t you think that I deserve Pizza? If you believe that I am nice, then you can pick it up in the next town, I’ll even call it in for you. smiley faces…..

I never was much for smiley faces in letters, or text messages. Their inherent cuteness is a bit too much for my old school way of thinking, but that was really not the point here, was it?

My children are good at communication. No, not with each other, and definitely not when their parents are “Træls” which is a Danish word for “lousy”, but communication via Smart Phone is one of their greatest achievements.

My son was the one who finally convinced me to make my own Facebook Account. His reasoning: “Then we could talk together via Messenger”. True. True, but my main argument was that we still lived in the same house, and most times were only 6 or so meters away from each other.

Oh. Wait a moment. I’ve just gotten a new text message.

“Hi Dad. Did you get my message about Pizza? Don’t you agree that I deserve a Pizza for being so nice and all? Love your daughter – more smileys.”

This is Pizza- Blackmail! Just because I can be a nice father, attentive to my children’s needs, I’ll have to shell out the money (and the time it takes to fetch it) to prove that fact.

My plan for that moment was to drive to the Grocery store, when I then received a new message. My daughter texted me again. “Dad. Come to my room”. When I arrived she was looking at Pizza again. “Mom says if I pay for the Pizza myself, then I can order one, if I want to”.

“All right. I’ll fetch it. Is it near where the Grocery Store is? No. It wasn’t.” I replied, feeling like I was getting sucked into the black hole of parenthood.

“They were too expensive, but if you just………..” she replied.

So I packed the dog in the car – he likes to hang his head out of the window  – and drove in the opposite direction to the other Pizza Parlor. While on the short drive, I heard my Cell Phone ding and dang, numerous times, but there is a hefty fine in Denmark for even thinking about looking at it while driving.

I finally stopped outside of the Pizza Parlor. The messages were from my daughter. “Dad! Why haven’t you answered me? That Pizza Parlor is apparently closed. Now you’ll need to go to the one next to the Grocery Store. Text me when you get there!!”

The dog didn’t seem to mind, but I felt the leash tightening a bit around my neck. So I drove to where I had planned on going all along. The dog barked at the people out of the window, while I tried to remember if I had forgotten anything else on my list.

The Pizza Parlor next to the Grocery Store was filled with pleasant smells, and smiling workers. They spoke in a language unfamiliar to me, but the finished product was after all Pizza, and that was the important thing.

Then the dog got his trip home again, while the Pizza smells wafted through the car.

All of this because I felt it important to keep in touch with my children, utilizing their fine skills of Communication…..

The dog though didn’t care, and got an extended trip in the car, in the car…..


Laugh a Little

A man, saw I
sitting on a chair
surrounded by life
just life,

He sat silently
looking down at his feet
projecting his stare
without any other care

In the world, the world around
in the space that he occupied
while the rest of us went about
not acting such,

A sign he wore,
just a few words it bore
“poke me a bit, if you want
a laugh,
just a laugh,”

I walked around him
then back again, considering
wondering, if I should,
do what others would not?

He stared only
down at his feet, his chair worn
just as his hands, his countenance
waiting just, just waiting,

I poked him
ever so gently
not to topple his tower
not to remove him with my anger

He began to laugh
slowly at first, building up
then the waters exited the mouth
of the river,
he roared, then laughed in stages
starting at the bottom, throwing out his smiles
from the top, an oil well of laughter,

The only word, that I could muster
in-between my own chuckling, my smile
broad and well-placed upon my otherwise
stoic face, trying to ask him, plead with him,
Why, oh why
oh, why?

“Alive, I am”
he shouted and sang
as if the song of life told him
whispered to him the words
the lyrics of something unknown to me
unknown to the world,

Alive, alive
another day alive
breathing, feeling the sun, the rain
seeing the smiles, the frowns,
feeling the pain, the pain of living
better than feeling the pain of death
of dying,

Alive again
to awaken with my dreams, fading,
the colors changing, the reds, the yellows
the blues, then reds and yellows again

He laughed and laughed, and quite frankly
I couldn’t, I wouldn’t stop
forcing him, me to laugh again,

“Every day, I laugh a little”, said he
every day a gentle reminder, a pause in thought
not wondering, nor worrying, nor loving
just a little laugh

A laugh to acknowledge
I am alive again
feet down and head up
arms outstretched, embracing the world
no matter, if no one else joins me
that is their karma, their choice

but for me,
he said, while wiping the tears from his eyes,

I would rather……………


I Had a Little

A little this, a little that
one that I would admit to
one that I would shy away from

Something that someone else
would think badly about
something that someone else
would turn their head from,

I had a little cry today
nothing of importance
nothing to offer a hug, a cry as well
a call to arms, ring the bells
throw a ring around me
a group hug would certainly help
let us bake some cookies
start a collection
a prayer wouldn’t hurt
cookies and Jesus
sugar-coated religion,

I had a little laugh today
nothing of greater importance
than a little cry
nothing to wonder about
nothing to guffaw about
to grab their sides, fall on the ground
write jokes about, stand up comedy club
become a national joke
become greater than the sum
of everyone elses worries, laughter

I had a little time to myself
just me, alone, no one to worry about
having a little think, leading to a thought
how crazy this life, how crazy we are
wanting to share, wanting to help
wanting eternal salvation, served cold
wanting to hug, to cry, to laugh
just for the sake of being human,
all of us, all of you, me and the others,

I had a little, cry, laugh, love
noting of greater importance
than what I told others about
something special, something nice
what defines me, what makes me
what kind of person, what kind of identity
I have

I had a little….


Walking a River

I walked along
a river splashing,
frothing, flowing
ever, going away
from where I walked
alongside, a day a year
not wanting, not wishing
this day, year, life to end
never to end,

I loved along
a woman caring,
years ago, today, tomorrow
a love lost, a love found
not to be turned
around, not to love
not to lose, my love
not to want any other
first the one, second, third
any other, than the one
the only one, the most certain

I aged along
this life slowly fading
first in youth, an endless time
second in adult, knowing, learning
third in later years, the sum
of all parts, the me, the man,
the husband, the father, the friend
the lover, the lover first, second, third
all the loves, all the times, all

I walked a mountain
high and proud
climbing, striving, looking
outwards, inwards, upwards
my life stretched out
below, behind,
my life, my sight, my love, my thoughts
I walked a mountain, I still do today
I walked a mountain, an age ago,
today, tomorrow, what that will bring
what I will lose, what I will gain

This life, this life
flowing, learning, loving, stopping, continuing,
climbing, outwards, inwards, thoughts sowed, thoughts nurtured, the plant matures, ages, and
the end awaits
down some road, some time when,
in the end when we all will go, climb, love

to the end of all ends…