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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Drifting Away

Falling over and you find yourself

In the middle of the stream

The danger is as greatest there

Strong and vigil it takes you

Under the surface in to the black current

Surviving is only possible while

Drifting of in cold water to the edge

Wash your body ashore on the rocky beach