oak tree mætning

Why are the grasses greener, when I think back in time?

It was easier to fall in love, and the music on the radio was something

you could sing along to,

The world seemed a kinder place, and my parents seemed like, they would always be around,

The skies were bluer, and my friends and I had time to kill, time to explore, time, just time to do with what we wanted to,

Money seemed to go a lot farther, and I always had some in the bank when I needed it,

Why is my memory so alive, when I think back to the past?

Why this, and why that, and why can’t I explain it to others

so they can revel in my memory as well?

Why are the grasses greener, the skies bluer, the women more satisfied

while all the while

I remained the same….

or, did I?



Her meat sauce
simmering on the stove
something that never failed
to fog up my glasses
every time
I entered her kitchen,

Her flavors
tasting each and every spice
I used to call her Marjoram
unusual, not what everyone had,
like I had her,

While the pasta cooked
and we lie al dente
in each other’s arms,
while the kitchen steamed
and my glasses made it hard
to see her,

So very hard…..


My keyboard
went cold,
though my fingers
were warm, still

Your eyes
were distant,
while we apart, were
looking for answers
with none to be found,

My fingers
warm to the touch
sending impulses back
to my thoughts, warming them
taking them farther
out to you

Distant in your thoughts
warmed a bit, now
by the thought of someone
of you…




As a shepherd
the two homeless waifs, who
stood in my care,
although, others would consider
them to be different
by possessing another origin
than myself,

A family were we still
the three of us,
and looking back
on my decision, knowing that
I wouldn’t have had it
any other way
no matter what anyone
might have thought
about it,

No matter how others might see it, in any way, shape or,

direction, we still were

one family, indivisible…




Buer Bree adjusted 2

There among the shattered faces

underneath the waters falling

where I saw her face

transparent in the cold blue ice

where the last time, we last parted

in the background spaces

along the headwall, sheer and looming

into the Bergschrund, where she’d fallen

down went the rope, with me tied to it

along the icefall, where my handholds faltered

into the chasm, into the darkness

only her last cries, heard above

the last time we looked at each other

into the darkness, into my memory

along where the glacier ground and shattered

the rocks falling, my tears freezing

somewhere in the mountains frozen

high above where we once gazed

towards the challenge, confident and laughing

down to the empty bed beside me


My love, my lost

my tears won’t stop

she would just have laughed

and chided me, for not wanting

daring to take a chance


Along the headwall, placed I flowers

her picture, my last love letter, unopened

standing, gazing, wondering why


The glacier grinding slowly

the waters moving swiftly

our passage through this space



just fading away

Buer Glacier, Norway. 2011.



P1000687 spejlvend

Thinking of the turbulent skies of my youth

now mellowing into skeleton trees aflame with light

sharpening my sight, closer to the heart

of the only real thing that matters



P1000688 boost beskåret

Colored background shadows

whispering lies to their sunlight counterparts

being no less truthful

than what I wanted her to believe

when I told her, I loved her



Buer Bree water adjusted

Engage with me
my thoughts now fluid
flowing into your mind’s cup
overflowing with passion
overflowing with the color
of your eyes, drowning me
in the blueness of their waters
soothing, your hands rippling
across my body of thought,
starting with but a meander
the watercourses we followed
leading us, tempting us
quenching our thirst
when the waters of your passion
never, ever could leave me dry
wanting, hoping for you
to engage with me

Waterfall. Near Buer Glacier, Norway. 2011



The fading gasp

of her fossil-fuel love

P1000699 fuel kun

forcing our fast and furious

down and dirty

no holds barred vehicle of love,

to grind to a stop





1981 red columbine

I wish

deep down in my heart

I  could taste your lips,

Columbine red

dancing along a meadow wet

along the folds of the Alpine high

where I found you, demure

sleeping in your dreams

of someone

like me,