A man afar

A man afar - all in flesh not

reddish hues and then some blues

the wherewithal of shattered dreams

fulfilled by oddities and gnats

how can this be my dream?

Hubby will not have sex

I have been dry for umpteen time

so that's why it is a distant reality

- with or without carnality -

that I go on gossamer winged Pegasus

a man afar - in flesh I wish

a difficult and condemned desire

what everyone else will say

but - when men take a mistress

of their wives' lack of drive

That is ok - not for a second

would anyone condemn thus -

whereas if a lady in suburbia

is in need of sex and love

that is a nono - from the pope

from lose friends to the friendly foes

I have no shame - no hang-ups

just a mental image of again

be where I belong in a lover's bed

and getting laid just like that

 

Preset? Prefix?

Something about New Year's resolutions

should I leave them alone

tackle a new annual's preset idea

or dump it as I skim a stone

I will decide tonight at witching hour

somewhere in an earthly zone.

Covid encore

Just before Covid 

the world was at least moving

rich or poor or healthy or unhealthy

we all lived with ourselves

with or without fear

with or without war

with or without ad nauseam

- why - reader - fill the blanks

or take the imagination on a trip

a cruise a holiday or a trek somewhere

Just after Covid

the world is becoming fearful

two years into this number 19 -

alpha via delta to omicron variety

the rich got vaccinated the poor 

left to fend for themselves as always

deniers galore filed the media

and perpetuated lies and videos

you again -reader- think about that

just will there truly be mass immunity

or do we have to live like this

with jumping to another alphabet?

    

A sharpei

A wrinkle in my face

when I was fifteen

grew to a wall of

crevices and furrows 

when I am  older

There is some things

I can do like sleep

and moisturizers

 but genetically doomed

to  show the world

my shar pei visage!

Crepuscule

Crepuscule of a certain kind

up and away with my mind

flying high or very low

I will to reality alas bow

so that when the time comes

I will wave goodbye - chums

and die for my own hand

that choice must be man's

just hoping that I can do it

otherwise I totally screwed it. 

In absentia

of light darkness rules

through the ages of hatred

and of course love

does love truly conquer everything?

Of day the night reigns

the queen sings her song

misquoted misunderstood

Sarastro has the power

of sun the moon waxes 

waning somehow the same

but I do no see it as equal

yet feeling it strongly

the lack of light in winter

and overwhelmingly summer sun

will eventually lead to

the dying fields of the orb

....

A conversation piece

A dinner party of 4 couples

how does the conversation go

here and there and nowhere 

an idea picked up another's

thoughts process deeply from

within whereas the next individ

well associated his childhood

with his wife's long legs

alas two hated their fathers

and

this passing of intellectual flow

swallowed a lot of reddish wine

masticating meat while chatting

about what we ought not to 

or was it ought to - due to the fog

of the brain and its white waves

surrendering completely into

nonsensical verbosity -

and

surprise - it held a truth and more

than one it would seem due to 

inhibitions vaguely vain but there

wanting nothing more than sharing

whatever it was on the minds

saved by being together at a table

stimulated  simian behavior

and

for once it seemed honestly fair

without the adults around forgetting

that we were the gray grownups

needing each other for conformation

chilled afterwards - what did I say?

ah well maybe nobody remembers

and

how dear me I let my hair down

but with only an follicle an no matter

I am strong enough to say this

in a frank manner to another

without worrying about much

and

for that reason the others understood

that whatever was said went down

without so much as a figment

acceptance is hard to accept

and

that is why it is a fabulous feeling

to sometimes have friends over

and let the parlance plays out

and 

so to the pals who survived this

friendly bantering firmly

but 

what can I say : thank you 

To Fred

Matinale parisienne

Désirant pour un moment

rêvant d'une autre vie

sachant le vigueur diminue

acceptant cette réalité

un matin dans un apart

parisien et pourtant! 

Ma jeune illusion

Ma jeunesse joue maintenant 

Comme d’hab des monuments 

Mouvementés intermédiaires 

surtout parisiens antédiluviens

Sauf quand je me promène 

Carrément au centre-ville 

Haussmanien je m’oublie 

Et sachant que mes rêves 

Sont déjà passés je me taquine 

Me disant ma folle tu es vieille 

Tu es une rêveuse promeneuse 

Ce mensonge ne me risque rien

Qu’un haussement des épaules 

Car seulement dans mon cerveau 

Il y a des endorphines sur un but

Un sauvetage de mon bien-être 

Et peut-être c’est mieux qu’années

De psycho analyse et des regrets 

Pour ne pas retrouver la jeune

Qui n’avait pas trop de credo

En soi ou dans son capacité 

A cause de son maladroit corps

Laisse moi encore une fois

Rester dans mon illusion 

Que je fus une femme forte

Et Paris m’avait donné des ailes !

Une histoire à la folie

 Une folle voisine 

Une folle copine

Voilà commence

L’histoire 

Vivent chacune 

Dans une rue

Voici continue 

Ce fable

Des années passent

Sans des  fougasses 

Des émotions montent 

Le récit 

Des dîners et des cafés 

Des fois des panachés 

Sont partagés entre

Les discours 

Des au revoirs des allôs

Ce sont des noyaux 

Au fond de l’amitié 

De ce légende 

Une petit anniversaire 

Je fût bénéficiaire  

Un immense cadeau

D’Affirmation 

Un déjeuner à L’herbe 

Une table superbe 

Avec des amis 

Un vrai conte

Ma chère Corinne

Tu es sérotonine 

Pour mon âme 

Une sûre saga

If science were dead

 If science were dead

the world would look

like before the Ancients

we would still be in

loincloths believing 

skygods and goddesses

wilderness and witches' brews

would cure .... not much.

I would not be alive

would have gone down

if science were dead

If science were dead

anyone can continue

her/his thoughts of how 

he and she would dream

the earth to be - a nightmare

or a paradise in which

wild animals were not

vicious but nice just

like the population

friendly or warlike

if science were dead

(Irony is in the eyes of the beholder

a twist on the twilight Zone - which the poetess 

have not seen nor read)

Waiting for ....

You wait all your life...

for growing up

for getting older 

for death

In between you fill out

your time with

mundane things like

learning

be taught

laughing

crying

ogling

doodling

loving

fucking

regretting

feeling

screaming

repeat ad nauseam

hoping to enjoy

that path called life 

and if lucky

waiting for a tree

to grow

Nîmes dud

There once was a dud from Nîmes

he said he had an Alpes -Maritimes

His embonpoint was big

She didn't want his dick

he was a total philistine

 

Sacré alzheimer!

sacrebleu - 

tous les autres malédictions

vraiment la maladie d'Alzheimer

est une des pires car on ne peut

ni attraper - ni arrêter - ni faire

sacrejaune

la personne qui l'aura descend

au l'enfer sans le vouloir 

si on pourrait la tarder 

avec n'importe quoi moyen

sacrerouge

car de voir un âme glisser

lentement  - au galop

dans un état d'effrayant 

c'est inhumain - luciférian

  

Une lune à moitié

La lune y reste drôle 

Dans le sens barcarolle 

Autour des amants de nuit

Hier et aujourd’hui 

Pour notre éternité 

Sans qu’elle a deviné 

De quoi elle pense

Des êtres peu ardents

Elle se montre joyeuse 

plutôt même voyeuse

pour qu'elle puisse entendre

les amants s'entreprendre

leurs amours vrais ou faux

des nocturnes et des sauts

et elle compte jusqu'au nuit 

serveuse de pleine d'enduit

La vieille

Je suis une femme vieille

dans un profond sommeil

sans que je sache vraiment

comment passait le temps

tout un coup une découverte

il ne reste que moi à perte

hélas un moment encore

avant que je m'endors

mais c'est une phantasme

surtout un mal pléonasme!

Jardin de Touraine

dans un jardin en Touraine

sous la pluie légère d'été

les plantes meridionales

vivent leur existence frileux

mais ils s'amusent autant

meme ils sont déménagés

alors j'ai appris pourquoi

car avec l'amour on peut

mouvoir des pierres 

ils s'éclairent et s'apprivoisent

l'homme qui l'a créé 

l'applaudit et s'emerveille!

 

Réponse à Serge Gainsbourg "Requiem pour un Con"

L’amour pour attraper 

Un être sera le même 

Pour toi - mon vieux -

Sauf si l’individu est

Un homme déloyal.

L’affection pue d'un

Atroce manque en soi

et tu te sens abusé

tu y retournes encore

à cause de ton amour.

Mais l'amour fou

d'un cretin te laisse

des goûts d'amande amére

- le friandise devient

une mémoire d'un con. 

  

Roasted

an tea filled with ice

would be a nice

sure cooling device

instead of the melt

giving a black belt

to the sun's "pelt"

 

Que sais-je?

 Un matin ailleurs 

avec mon chien 

Posent des illuminations 

Dans le profondeur 

De mes pensées 

Lui il est adaptable 

Mais moi?

Decision on a Tuesday

Disturbing my sleep 

not worth the money

just went and quit

took a small hit

without a pot of honey

But I ain't no sheep!

Un enclos ailleurs

Dans le jardin dès fleurs embaument

Des gens et les rendent d’un douceur 

Et leurs esprits prennent la sagesse

Des vielles pierres les enclosent 

Calmement et tout passe bien!

Pinot min læremester

En lille hund på en stor rejse 

træskende troskyldigt og lydigt

efter sine ejere - uden 

et eneste forknyt vuf

accept af sin skæbne

med humør og nyt gåpåmod

En lille hund på en stor rejse

proppet i en minimal taske

for at kunne passe i kabinen

under sædet i flyveren

ud gennem told og videre

vente på tog - kørende afsted

En lille hund på en stor rejse

ankomst til et gammelt hus

underlige lugte - alt ændret

biler forbi hoveddørens vindue

middelaldergaders snirkler

ikke det vanlige grønsvær 

En lille hund på en stor rejse

prøver kræfter med alt

bliver lokket i vandet

hevet op på store sten

ofte ind og ligge under

forskellige caféborde

En lille hund på en stor rejse

møder fremmede hunde

snuser og gør hvis de gør

et væsen af en særlig kaliber

en åbenhed som vi alle nok

kunne lære af - tak Pinot

 

Conversation

A conversation I will not have

with my firstborn - ere I know my death

you were born of love

your father could not beat his genes

can you?

(An aside

Even I have a love for alcohol

but I stop ever so often once or twice 

a year for a month and my need is nothing

I drink socially

In our culture and in yours it is the norm

 a rather heavily love for the numbing flood)

you have three children - they see stuff

even though your wife also imbibes

she can hold it - whereas you seem to not

get help son of mine -- now -- not later

I know you have other devils

within your body spirit mind

PTSD is not something to ignore

Of love comes life and sadness 

joy created by endorphins

you cannot not try and get help

please...son of mine... I have a picture

embossed in my mind's eye

you on the changing table 5 months old

scared of a drunk person who loved you

but could not be lived with

are you heading in that direction?

Then when your firstborn had arrived 

you were so enamored by him

....

two more children and then your defenses

became tired worn out - and you are still young

....

been through a hell of a lot - 

but we all have  and we try our best - most of the time

...

Urging you from this side of the grave

it is not too late -- yet...

Get help!

Your answer is in the wind  -warm - violent 

will I ever know?

Up or down

Gut feeling needed

Decisions to make

Weights of pros and cons 

A blink or so

The stomach refuses 

To answer 

So where to turn

Upwards or the opposite 

Even keel is uneven 

But there is always 

dices of marbles 

And then you know!

to sider

Mit vindue er mit ydre vue 

hvad er der idag udenfor?

Mange træer i fuld flor

Min egen patio halvskjult

af parasollens skygge

min nabos to stole 

der aldrig bliver brugt

en skorsten som ligner 

et gammeldags togs røgrør

lortebrune plankeværker

omkring vores små verdener

en lyseblå formiddagsolhimmel

der viser - det er varmt

Mit indre følger ikke med

Hiding of cicada limerick

There once was a cicada from Maryland

Its seventeenth year arrival - quite a span

It mated, sated, and died

Its shell on the ground piled

its larvae went down the ground like beforehand

Lejlighedsdigt P

Der var en Poul fra Helsingør

han havde et tykt og langt rør

Han murede det endnu

for det kunne han sgu

70 tages med højt humør 

Smell the roses

Good news  - bad news from here and there

around the old whirling magnificent globe

willingly tittle-tattle or gossipy information

spread gazelle-like faster than ever

spurting and blurting without reflection

fare the stories of renown and fame

the believable and true well founded stuff

will give history a little chance except 

the antecedents were written by their victors

whereas an easy way to dig up the dirt

is as oil welly as can be - deep in the sand

lies the "clean" and  "perfumed" money 

  

 

May month of maybes

Mayflies last for only a few hours or days

so their lives follow the maybush' span

of being decorated with nature's garlands

of May Eve's dusk of chills and shadows

A reminder of mayhap fairies and beliefs

of netherworldly realms seeking influence

where the minions of mayweeds get picked

not for their beauty but for their healing 

so that a humble flower may bring soothing

and the nymphs may dance in the wind. 

  

The rope

Hangman's rope around my neck

( the imaginative actually)

sadness and anger becomes part

of my body's co-existence

nothing can be done physically

but psychologically I hit a block

my framework's skeleton

and its fillers react without doubt

so the shape is altered invisibly

outwardly it looks acceptable

but on the inside the cord 

has already been perfectly jerked 

  

 

Bred and more

 Galapagos Island turtles

Breed in Zurich wow

Biden’s number 100 day

Breeds more change

So turtles and presidents 

Are both being bred 

Bored cookies

 Uninspired by an April weather day

Even the scones refused to sparkle

And their taste seemed totally bland

But the recipe called for naught sugar 

it mixed itself with the blueberries 

Yawn they seemed to scream - alas

YOLO

 Acronyms and shortened names

Never liked them

Know they are needed - practical 

On occasion- I come across one

YOLO

not quitting at pension’s age

Works for some - what else is there

Or is enamored by the profession

Just keeps them eternally young

YOLO

Here is my own conundrum 

But in the end I have to agree 

That every day is precious &

Shit could hit any time

YOLO 

After dinner thoughts

 Exciting times seeing friends 

For the first time after being shot

... against Covid-19 - agreeing

That the pandemic is not the worst

That could happen if you sailed

Through the Strait of Messina

unscathed-untouched-healthy

With your friends and family

Your boat ride only to end surely

When you expired and drifted away

But this feeling of chatting freely

Without fear of dying from air particles 

Gave in to some weird thoughts

Of true freedom in body or mind

A spirit of je ne sais quoi initially 

Evolving into a joyful patter

Above all or nothing important 

Sense of true belonging though

We are all on the same journey 

But how we rock the boat is

In many ways a question of luck

Time era - genes and maybe

The nurture  which slipped 

Just a tad during this period 

Without a vaccine or hope thereof.

Joys of spring haiku

 Beauty is reborn 

Flowering mosquitoes now

Bite tenaciously 

Sofa’s corner

A sofa stood on a lawn

Used  - a little forelorn

Its pillows were torn

Free and clean the sign read

Spring was out and about

It was glorious and stout

Anything but  a phaseout

second chance homestead ?

Limp along the way

Sleeping limb felled me

I fell and broke a finger

again today the drowsiness

of  my foot alerted me

Imperative to keep score

of your body's twists and turns

give your blood vessels

the time to undo the snoring

Alas I am not young anymore 

Slægter

Slægter du slægten på eller af?

Ved du nok om din egen familie?

Er der skjulte ting i klædeskabet

er man sikker på at der ikke er halv-

helsøskende et eller andet skjult sted?

Har en eller anden bror/søster/onkel

doneret spermacetter til en sædbank?

Ligner din fætter din onkel?

Eller ligner han måske din far?

Kan genforskningen virkeligt

få mysterierne til at stoppe eller

bliver de værre - fordoblet?

Kan svulmende barme være

et træk hos alle i kvindelinien?

Vikingetommelfingre hos drenge?

Sygdomme og genetiske tendenser

er naturen stærkere end viljen?

 

Hvorfra hvorfra hvorfra?

 

Column hunting

To want a simple Greek column

For our yard or inside our house

Is a cat’s hunt for a wild mouse

Or a downhill trip doing slalom 

One would think it would be easy

With all the gadgets and things 

To buy an item  not fit for a king

But it seems difficult not breezy 

The locals stores both big and small

Have got nothing of a simple kind

Doric or Ionic sample on my mind

Not an acanthus  or a weird oddball

So I turn to the net the great beyond

Looking for my “granite” caryatid 

Too many weirdly shaped  monoliths

Could I find it mayhap at “Amazon”?

Alas, the biggest mall in the world 

Returns something semi- satisfactory 

Not really a desired item calefactory

But my search is the history purled!

Orlanda furiosa's lost way

Angry - angry - vile disease

the randomness - a sleaze

of an astrophysicist I know

the going downhill grows

he no longer can do a thing

life stinks with a bitter zing

Too many battle this combat

couldn't we the brain reformat

so that everyone would win

over this brain demise' kin

Alzheimer's or dementia alas

the numbers grow I'm aghast

So Orlanda furiosa's great quest

help her friend's with a life vest

continue to learn - never stop

to read question walk  and up

the ante of exercise - eat soundly

just live more profoundly

The info is out there cool and clear

numbers talk  even this year

one in three seniors will die

from these two diseases - a pie

with cancers breast/dick combined

train your blasted frame of mind

Today I am truly sad and mad

at the friggin' illness to be had

maybe it is Gaia's true revenge

that she is building a stone henge

to show that humans are curiosa

You are nothing, Orlanda furiosa

Intimate refuge

On this day Aussie friend

You appeared in the sphere

my personal poet muse

Gone already more than ten

Intimacy and earnest - dear

My quiet go to refuge

Eternities?

Every day

Every day

Every day

Need to hear more

Every night

Every night

Every night

Nightmare or bore

Every week

Every month 

Every year

A zinc washboard 

Daft parade

Daffodils oh daft spring 

How can I ever not dwell 

Upon a youthful hope

Warm loving wonder

But ephemeral it remains 

Only a glimpse every year

A tug in the tummy

And it is sort of forgotten 

Until again my eyes feast

Upon the bright yellow crowns

The parade is moving again 

Noises Rus

 Over the house an airplane buzzes

Every three minutes in the fly path 

Some days 

it is only the cars distant humming

Broken by the ambulances or

The helicopter’s whirring on

The hospital’s helipad

Sometimes it is all annoying 

These not so distant noises

And at other times they blend in

Humans are adaptable 

Quardrupedes are not!

Et stjerneglimt?

 Gemt bag facadespejlbilledet

Den person man ikke så

Viste sig ikke - kun hvis

Man gik i Tivolis glaskabinet

Glimtede der noget and i 

Sprækken af irisens blåøjethed

Og gennemskueligheden 

Forsvandt som et stjerneskud

På en kølig augustaften

Et vindpust fra et århundrede

Hele slægtens gensplejsning

Mærkedes af gespænstet

Kun for at skrige - jegets veråb

I ly af hurlumhejet var der

Ingen som hverken så eller hørte det.

Virtual vultures

The culture of ready-mades

Spits out endless demons

although in honesty we 

Are the devils and reality

Is a harsh taskmaster 

Finding faults in every detail 

However nature itself claims

Only a vulnerable bird

Fighting for its habitat 

Hence we are the virtual vultures 

The life worth it?

"Der  blöde Teufel" - long gone memories

of high school German and philosophy

was a fascination for the teacher and his pupil

He claimed to be one of the Electors

I was captivated by this philosophy

: to try everything human - a shy girl

with a handicap and a curiosity 

he - an old homosexual with a love unrequited

That was the beginning of the ending

an human comedy set in many acts

Did I fulfill my quest for knowledge?

Did the life asked of me what it could?

Did fate lead to challenges of wanting ?

What have I not tried? Is there something 

that must still be probed - me a « matriarch « 

Recently named by someone close!

Never once did that word even enter

My voracious vocals of wordsmithing

So every day even today is a lesson 

A rainy day where I am trying to learn

Puppy training for the oldie unwise

To acquire a dog during a pandemic 

Having forgotten everything about pups

This is a new experience exquisitely hard

And due to his wild nature of wolves

Albeit a  small but stubborn creature 

He will teach me more about patience 

Than ever before because I have forgotten 

And I should have remembered rawly !

Of lovers lost and found but not forgotten 

There are a beginning a middle and an end

A few need mentioning - my first lover

On April Fools day marked forever a fool

Still to this moment  a minute pining 

Sadly he never liked me - possibly of pity

For me a coup de foudre - not even good

A few mistakes - a holiday one here there

In foreign lands one Aussie handsome

A sweetheart - gentle - would I marry him

I just could not  but friends forever

Through out everything until his death

My heart still remembers his gentleness 

Of course I tried living with a man

Complicated - corrosive cohabitation 

But I got my son - a beautiful child 

An even more wonderful father 

In Aussie-immensely ironically so 

With my hubby - an easier ride - 

A friend - for life - calm existence 

Except when I muddle it -

Two strong children both musicians

One a determined demoiselle plus 2

The other - my showman of renown

Muddled you said ah yes there are

Dark corners in every soul and

Satisfaction is hard to come by

Physical attraction is gripping 

By the soft spot of my vulva

It grows pounding in my ears

And so like all female beasts

I embrace the member - wildly

My so-called career - not much

nothing really to show for it

but the love of books and reading

knowledge and wisdom found

in those oeuvres - has given me 

insights to the human soul -

with lots of surprises in between

mostly to my own reactions

trying not to be judgmental 

and be a humble curious

An epitaph over me - at my funeral

would be - she loved life - 

.... a memory ... she felt all human

erring often - trying the rectify

her mistakes - failed like anybody

yet - yes nothing human is unknown

even though the inhumane hatred of ...

.....

alas I did make a pact with life/devil

and it smeared - it oiled -  it tempted

but if it had not swirled - boiled

it would not have been worth it

it is all a matter of perspective

and I have been damned lucky

after all.......

Fluid haiku

Fluid forms of flights

Fascinating for fliers

The flowers of spring 

Jump to a kick

Warm peanut  butter cookies 

On a dreary rainy wintry day

Stamp out the blah 

Simple creations abound

Whenever your mood is off

Do change to ‘rah

The endorphins in your brain

Can be jumpstarted with spark

Wise chutzpah 

Testosterone

 Testosterone’s action 

Or rather sluggishness

Will create havoc

Within a male body

And among twelve 

Symptoms sex 

Hair tiredness 

There is also an ailment 

Called osteoporosis 

Modified it can be

By female estrogen 

So it is yin and yang 

Scary endings’ times

 In the oral surgeon’s  wait room

Awaiting my tooth’s final doom

Old age approaches candidly

I feel sadness vividly 

Only today I am truly a crone

I sadly left my tooth’s alone

Nevermore will it for me chew

No wisdom for me to brew

Except accept that this is the end

No ifs no buts my fairy tooth friend!

Candi limerick

 There once was a man from Honduras

Whispering To his lady it’s scandalous 

You will not succumb 

Even  though it’s plumb

And it taste is like sweet candifloss

Only here

 Only here within these pages

Can I breathe freely and think

Whatever comes to mind

While the words froth wildly

And the waves from the cells

Burst into tears or foam  madly

Laughing joined with ecstasy 

Only with words of preying

On my innards at nighttime 

Abhorring  the dullest suburban 

Life of an old unwise woman 

Outside and inside my soul

My body’s rebellious act

Ironically I am younger today

Speedily time will count hours

So my lightheartedness drowns

And I will due at the spreading

Of my ashes cooled by the sea

Albeit ere I go life will take 

Another turn - clapping dancing

Winds of the wild soul prevail

Only freedom of imagination 

On an unknown itinerant psyche

Stylistically as always searching 

For the absolute phraseology 

It is the amalgamation of quiet

Deep and daring sadly hemmed in

By obligations and alas acceptance

Therapy for a Voelva

“Old age”was haunting the haggard voelva

Not because she was particular poorly

But because for a long while her desire 

For lust and lewdness was waning

A deep loss of a physical phenomenon 

When she no longer felt  the skin

Of a lover or a partner in crime

Then how could she not agree

That she was of an age to die -

Dormant days of wintry weather 

Inside her willowy bones and flap

Were building a marish momentum 

Of winding circuits and dantesque dams

Only to be stopped steadfastly 

With the admonished  aplomb from 

Her own owlish sister Sophia 

With whom she debated always

And never questioned her witty wisdom:

Masterly masturbation techniques

Tended with lovingly care by herself

Vigga for you the Voelva not to die

A thousand times you must help

Yourself and your body yonder

Play out whatever sordid scenarios 

You will need for your release

Massage therapy is not nearly enough 

Enliven your inner urges to surge

On gossamer gothic clouds of yore

To strengthen your sad skeleton 

You will nudge nudge nudge

Your reddish rose and inflame her

Until your breath and breasts burst

Only then will the Voelva wake up

From her drowned doomed self

And once more feel present and part

Of her own oddly shaped existence 

A mind of one's own

Disorganized completely

in my brain's cells

something slowly disappear

without the water's well

a horizon of clear

imminent waves

the hunger's need

just calmly here disarrays

to lovingly feed

the slow burning sweetly

of mindless words 

no deeds - absurd

(I just couldn't not put it together)

Dog desire

I'd  love a dog in my life

but my life is not dog rife

it is not even remotely so

but I still want another go

Think of the dog - yes sure

but a dog is such an allure

of friendship and of love

anything else pales above

will I succumb to my want  

or by.a pug always  haunt'd?

 

-ismen det er også os

Kølige ismers tid 

er  højst bortgangne 

nu er det en funk

-lende dragende tid

og ismerne lever

forsat  - et dunk

flere på grund af

et ovenud væld: en

cyper/mørkepunk

formel drage-søgende

fanatiker der hæger

som en augustinermunk

med sin inderste

celle i troen på

en forvorpen halunk.

(Titlen Midt i en isme tid af Peter P Rohde

kom pludseligt frem på nethinden) 

En regardant des émeutes sur un écran

Dès qu’on accepte la violence 

Et on dise absolument rien

On reste partout participant

Du fait en coopération 

Dès qu’on fasse rien sur des crimes 

Contre quelqu’un n’importe 

On sait bien qu’on est coupable 

Des non-commission vives

Dès qu’on coopère avec le mal

Le spectateur sans le vouloir 

Est un malin ‘sans portefeuille ´

On est tous des anti-samaritains

Une semaine

 Lundi - rien

Mardi - quoi

Mercredi- hein

Jeudi - foutre-moi

Vendredi - le menage leger 

Samedi - encore rien

Dimanche - le spleen complète 

Odd year out

To have no control is to give up

maybe 

to let yourself go to see what's up

ahem

to glide along life without mirth

ach ja

to float around the puddle of mud

ah non

that is not my innate style anymore

sans doute

this is why I get upset all along

enfin

these reasons of relinquishing reign

shush

those oddball proud prejudices

alas

tell of lies and loathing of self

wass?

tinker the mellowing mind's ego

nah so

therefore life cannot be fulfilled

aber

then sways away with dark fail 

Detox hymn

Pass the port - not

a way to go on detox

on a January dreary day

much to my own dismay

but I have got to stop

enough is enough

New Year's eve

2020 a time of shock

world vengeance to boot

cooking too much

people starving

and dying of Covid-19

2021 a time of hope

with vaccines out of trials

still drinking too much

(at least on eve of the new)

dying and giving birth

where have I feasted

in the past of New Years

in  hotels - dancing - 

tapping the night away

drying out and coping

where else - quiet years

not many - in air plaines

in NYC Times Square

Kennedy Center

cold with fireworks

so this year's eve tomorrow

will be in Covid's plans

I shall be home doing

tv - having a bottle of fizz

and thinking of you! 

Great constellations

On winter solstice 2020

One core constellation 

Jupiter and Saturn

two  phantom planets

encountered visually by

the earthlings vividly

in 1226 during 

the Albigensian Crusade

in 2020 through 

the Covid-19 plaque

from the Middle Ages

to the Space time of now

it makes me think thus

everything in between

a little girl of 5 

taken by her mom

at noon watching

her first solar eclipse

through a piece of glass

smoked grayish black

-

that's why today I applaud

that I can see this 

and make the connection

to a house somewhere 

in Occitania -that this

middle-aged village 

contains stones upon stones

and  this house was begun

around that time

so the starry combination

of two great Ancient gods

is a cool culmination 

what makes me happy

knowing that we share

all people everywhere

fates of humanity -

and humbly we should

embrace our smallness

amid a second of 

Gaia's part of the universe

Finished œuvre

An old lady’s lament

With a twisted hell ring

Of a course towards

Dead corpse’ demise

Having fulfilled nothing 

Of her young dreams

A total waste except 

Her brood 

An old person’s yelling 

With a swirling dance

A body’s doomed bang

When hitting the floor 

Just a life in vain

Sans rien for show

If only - just vanity

Her ideas

Blending the two

Her kids and her chimes 

Will not double up 

Like the two planets

A phenomenon against 

The evening sky

Wondering like all

Her testament

Saturday's little observation

Possessed by possessions

obsessed by obsessions

lost to loose losers

without withering

all human foibles 

are inhumanely humane

if we acknowledge 

with fail our frailties!

  

 

A fleeing instant

shadows on the wall opposite my window
mirroring the house I live in for now

how ephemeral  is this fleeting sight

it moves in an instant with the sun

never to repeat - not even next year

since this sight of sun beams of morn

will be different - just like my feelings

because I shall then be a year's worth wiser

(if I live that long) and the moment gone 

Horned hen

Horned hen - a total disaster
describing my ego's desire

when truly I meant raunchy

It comes and goes still

when I least expect it -

the olde female driving  or

walking - not when seeing

a handsome man or anything

just out of the thin blue

hitting red - yellow or green

not ham not egg just me

and my physical carnality.

The roles

The roles of our lives if we live that long

egg child adolescent adult senior - corpse

so an ovum takes on a sperm and evolves

into a child - babyhood - toddler - a kid

and then the biology kicks in - an ado

with all of the sexual complications

until at the middle of the twenties

one can feel semi-normal whatever or not

during adulthood you have ups- downs

all around and depending on your

economic status never truly static

because life isn't - that kind of smooth ride

for most - the one percent eliminated

and then the rest of us rich to poor

have the same fuss over love and unlove

whether trans bi hetero gay or lesbian

or the varieties in between - alas

rare have anyone had nothing to worry about

or if an occasionally so - he or she creates

problems of a minor to a major

But our roles of babies to old fogies

can change within a moment from 

one to the next company we keep or alone

humans are adaptable but frail 

and sometimes the weak or the strongest

there is not true role for the actor

we are reactors of our environment

heading into an accident - a reunion

the biology of the human will react

either bodily or with feelings - 

bleeding for boozing or dragging 

ourselves down or perhaps up the ante

it doesn't matter - we - people of the world -

will be a perpetual drop of humanity

hate love frustration obsession with colors

of all kinds and the sounding board 

around us called nature will react

to our stupidity and our unthoughtful ways 

so that one day tis world as we so call it

will vanish when our great great great

grandchildren are gone - they are away

we are away and the Gaia shakes herself

and starts humming and swinging again.  

Au "revoir" les petits monuments

mon cher ami je comprends

qu'on reste des copains

des enfants communs

sans que vraiment toi et moi

soient des bêtes attachés

mon cher frère dans l'âme

je sais que la vie continue

en chantant des  ballades

d'un alternative modèle

il y a des airs différents

mon cher pote des années

malgré mon quasi-attirance

on n'est que des bons amis

et pour cela je te remercie

de tout mon coeur pâli

un jour on se rencontrera

encore au joli printemps

avec l'espoir dans l'esprit

mais pour l'hiver venant

je m'arrête triste et morne

 

Réflexions

Novembre - les derniers jours

Les vignes s’endorment tous
Les garrigues brunissent aussi

Tout est calme malgré les temps 
D’une pandémie qui tue 
Indiscrètement sans borne 

On n’a pas le luxe d’être 
Imprudent et cavalier 
Autant qu’on le voulait

Sacrée volupté dont parle 
Le poète n’offre que l’air
Parmi les fleurs fanées 

Sauf sur un siège dans
La merveille d’Occitanie

Imaginons un monde guéri

Clues to a screw

Someone found a screw

on the kitchen floor

dug up not where it went it

later dreamt about it

a nightmare where 

the screw popped up again

This time someone had

the hot tip to the screw

thought it was right

in the garage the trance 

did not yield the answer

clueless screwless hole!

The morale of the tale is

believe your pipe dreams

and be verily screwed

A thought about a trip

First world problem - naturally

trying to fly home - eventually

airline keeps cancelling flight

so got another trip - somehow

to go where I belong - anyhow

the plane got away - no dice

so 

here I am in a lovely place

a pandemic a holiday race

to try and satisfy home base

yet feeling stuck and not

the feeling of being free

is not there - being me

so

whatever one does - in life

comes to haunt with a strike!

  

La réaction

Une réaction physique 

d'une femme aphasique

dans la fureur basique

estampe des pathologiques -

larmes  - sans logique

sauf le fait vampirique

dans l'enfance scénique

et le bel âge chimérique

les rages homérique

effrayante colère unique - 

font un choc tragique! 

 

Le long de la randonnée

Une petite histoire rencontrée

sur mon chemin aujourd'hui

quel beau temps de Novembre

autour d'une morte alourdie

pour l'individu qui l'a raconté

Un homme et un chien et moi

j'ai dit bonjour comme d'hab

l'air était si frais et odorante

m'en expliquant peu opaque

sans que la petite bête aboie

Sa compagne est décédée

et tout un coup j'ai compris

sans lui rendre une offense

que sa femme souvent confie

à moi pardi -j'aime sa majesté

Poursuivant - son chien en patois

le toutou loge chez lui retrograde

pour l'homme il est son épicentre

surtout son meilleur camarade

presque ses yeux en larmoient

 

Notre flânerie continue peu à peu

il commence à ouvrir sa vie

des langues -  sa propre naissance

quel metier il a poursuivi

c'était dans ces mots on s'était arrêté.

Le soleil d'un après-midi flamboie

la vie passe ses uniques mascarades

je peux être comme une Cassandre

avec les rencontres mitraillades

le vent porte plein des fins en soi

She solo!

Saturday eve in a medieval hamlet

the gateway to an ancient empire

Something strange happens

To an almost crone of sorts

Not for very long time free

But

By old stones - by being her

The innards churn nothing

If not calmness of a caliber

Equal to -could it be a certain 

Self acceptance - enjoyment 

Of

Her own company - aloof

In her search for solitude 

Because she knows that

Tales told by her ancestor

You are alone - accept it

And

Within the sturdy stone house 

She relinquishes the need

For people’s company 

And realizes that here

She is embalmed with peace!

Un dessert au grenier

 Pas sous les toits de Paris 

Dans les années précédentes 

D’un rêve printanier rosé 

Mais une réalité anéantie

Par une pandémie récente 

Dans mon grenier arosé

De l’amitié des rires fous

parlant de la vie courante

Des voyages dans le futur 

Là-bas des illusions où 

Elles sont vraies - souriantes

Des vues de maintes  cultures 

On ne parle que des choses

Agréables et des voyages beaux

Nos anciens amitiés d’amour 

Mais l’heure du départ s’impose

Nos mémoires restent au limbo

Donc un autre  gerbe de velours

Le onze de onze

Le onzième novembre

à l’heure pile onze

Une grande guerre stoppa 

Aujourd’hui encore

Les clochers sonnent

on la mémorise  - voilà 

Les bruits sonores  partout 

Peuvent aussi nous dire

Qu’on est encore - hélas 

Contretemps de Covid 

Une peste de nos jours 

C’est notre bataille piranha 

Ensuite l’animosité vif

Qui reste entre les gens

Riches/pauvres /en Scylla

De Charybdis - on tombe

Comme des aveugles dans

Notre propre microcandela 

La lumière pointe uniquement 

Dans une seule direction 

Au lieu de danser la zarzuela 

Avec les voisins qu’on ne connaît

Et les invite pour bavarder 

À l’heure onze au delà !

Radical needs

A new president-elect's speech

without divisive comments

threats of this and that

a promise of union of decency

has not been the norm

for four years plus

in a middle of a pandemic

everyone else is a potential

enemy - a frail person's

scaremongering tactics

but now all of a sudden 

just calm and reason revived

seems so-called shocking

that it will be the balm

this island country needs

My waiting for Godot???

I plunged into

the miasma

on November third

a few days later

had not thought

but got hit by

November fifth

yester morn

how could I have

forgotten my dad's

day of death 

and my uncle's  ditto

on the third -

an my mom's demise

as well on the fifth

years later -

a long time ago

and here I was

waiting for a shift

in rescuing democracy

wish it to come sooner

or it may not

so I am waiting like

Vlad and Estrag

for a result that

will come - process

questioned when

it should not be

inquiring neither

should my parents'

deaths on the same day

twenty eight years apart

the strange way of

when my mother's

last days were odd and

I knew that she might

die on the same dawn

into dark at the same hour,

my dad did not wait

for Godot to arrive

like this old drama

flipping the odds that

one day I might

die on this weird 

Gunpowder Plot date

to another lightening

morning awaits democracy

or demise thereof 

it gives me hope 

the election and death

of equality and darkness

intervals of doubt 

or clapping the hands

waving away the crucial

wait for Godot 

and we all do it.....

En rotte i paradis?!

Kiwitræets grønne krone

over pergolaens fletværk

er fyldt med lodne kugler

mere eller mindre modne

man kunne gå helt bersærk

Et par i lokalparadisets have

havde plantet de unge træer

de voksed' sig store og flotte

gav efter flere år edens gave

fyldte mange smagsløg især

En middagsstund sad herren

med en ven og snakkede løst

kiggede op på umodne frugter

som var bespist af - en snerren

ej af fugle - en rotte - han gøs

Således endte historiens sang

kiwibuskens dydige kvidren   

var en irreel drøm i grønnegård

af rottens inderlige madtrang

lød der kun en bøddelsklirren

Til Torsten

 

Sleep ad nauseam please come

Lonely nights when I am away

awoken at 3 am like in the song

in the wee dwarf hours - a day

thinking that I will for ever long

That is too blah and not hurrah

On a Sunday morn in November

I listen too sweet melodies of yore

My soul - burns not - an ember

of distant longing for your corps

That is so blah and it's not hurrah

Mystery - mastery dream lover

of so long ago  - no comparison

I have to stop dreaming - shudder

sleep come - be a  swell samaritan  

That is dead blah - eyes fall - hurrah