Trapped by myself
Enclosed and encircled
By my own mind
I looked at the sea
Ever changing
No constant no mind
Just movement
The Ego and the Sea
A Stench of Paradise
Just being here
Trapped on a small island
In the wast emptiness of the mind
Another slow day
In the summer
A day so still that we are
Creating conflicts as a pastime
Running around in our own mind
Tearing down Paradise
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Invisible
Traveling along the small trail in
Far north
The road keeps turning
This road
Were once used by the
German Vermacht
Built by the Germans
After they hunted all the
Islanders away
This is not a road but still a road
Overgrown by flowers and nettles
Like history itself more
Fiction than fact
But still underneath
The stones and gravels
Are there as well as some
Barbed wire
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Doggerland
The coast is lost
The safe haven gone
The rising water
Changed everything
Our beloved land
Now under water
For thousand of years
To come,
Hiding our monuments
And our ancestors dreams
The barren cliffs and marshes
Will be ours to keep
Fighting the sea and
The others
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Dreams are born
At sea
The rudder gives you
A straight course
But the mind keeps meandering
In the long and lonely
Hours of the night
When the stars speak
To the defenseless mind
Making strange pattern
In the conscious mind
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Wrecking The Boat
Sometimes we become trapped
In the past
While life moves on
Confused
We are trying the old patterns,
Ways and tricks
But to no avail
We are starting to sink
And the only way
Is to keep swimming
The destruction did not
Make us wise but kept us going
With as much as we could carry
Only to end up almost naked
At the beach, starting all over
Again and again
Until we perished into the
The cold, deep blue
Baltic
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Empty
All the energy
Has gone to comfort you
My mind and soul
Is like an empty
Shell in a backwater
Waiting to being
Washed away
To the merciless
Sea
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The Storm
Water filled the holes that dotted
The dirt road
The storm coming from an
Unexpected direction
Earlier this year
Took many of the trees
Creating a new landscape or
Maybe a monument, a dump
As symbol of the instability of the
Existence on this tiny island
In the far north
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Coming Out
Playing the game of being
In the world
Being social,
Almost normal
While my mind is hiding
Changing course quickly
Like a supertanker
Turning
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Shell
The beach is filled with
Empty shells from dead
Creatures
Carrying dead feelings
Inside,
I am like a living
Shell
