Searching for freedom
In nature outside this
Limited mental place
I am not there
Still not here
Just in Limbo
Creating Space
Forming
Forming the clay
Like life itself it is smooth
Flexible, dynamic
Built from earlier life
And minerals
Creating and destroying
Collapsing, building
Whatever we make
Out of it
Can we ever be free
From matter and nature?
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Contrasts
Outside and inside
So different places
Same location and still
Not the same
Inside the chaos, confusion and frustration
Outside the order of man
The birds and the tree
Well ordered paths
Good maner people
Behaving well
Inside a war between
Wounded souls
Wounded egos
Lost aspiration
Outside too cold
Inside too warm
No rest
Only relentless repetition
Of patterns learned
From long time ago
In the great childhood days
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Morning Light
Natures shapes and forms
Late and early
Morning break
Changing consciousness
Structure and patterns
On the roads are good
A great time for travel
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The Initial Journey
All the way into heaven
I travel inside out
Into the inner black hole
Deep inside is the
Outside of universe
There there are a little girl
Being inside my mind
Leading my to places
Never seen before
Far beyond heavens
Little door
God is a tiny dwarf
Keeping his small plot
Of heaven in his hand
But there are other stars
Around
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Forest
Happy to leave
The crazy city
Finding peace of mind
Under the gigantic
Fur tree
Like a protection
From an unforgiving
Sky
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Introvert
The winter has returned
Strong winds and a grey sky
I don’t answer the phone
Loneliness is a great quality
Between nature and man
Outside I become something
Completely different
The inner journey doesn’t care
For money, sleep or food, just
Going on and on
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Memories
Lost spaces, places that I loved
Extended cords
Parts of leaves, grass and flowers
They are all still there
Life goes on without me
Soon I will be forgotten
Only me carrying the memories
The sorrow and grief
The lies and power games will triumph
But I am free to follow a different path
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Outskirts
Driving around in the outskirts of Stockholm. The snow is gone but temperature is well below zero. Discovering unknown parts of the city is way of meditation. This is old Viking country filled with burial-grounds and runestones.
This is pagan and Christian landscape at the same time, churches built on places of pagan worship, messages telling the stories of death and suffering in Russia or Turkey. A lot of fortunes were made there by Vikings being mercenaries or tradesmen.
Our barren land could not feed everyone so the bravest and most desperate left long time ago. This is not a land to be happy in. That is not the nature of Sweden. Here you work and suffers in silence until you eventually die.
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Discrete Murder
Deep roots
Craving water
Running under
Our feet’s
We do not know them
We do not care for them
Until
They makes us fall
Like helpless children
Or very old men
Crawling for mercy
Striving for safe places
Ignoring the fact
That there are no safe spaces
All around us is nature
Nurturing us, killing us softly
From within
Schibolet 