On Writing Poems

For many people writing can be a very difficult task. At the moment I write and publish a lot of poems. There are so many thoughts and ideas that have stayed inside my mind until now. Where I live we have one of these long and enduring winter.

The days are short and the nights up to 18 hours long. That gives a lot of time to write or waste watching TV. I write in the modernist tradition mostly, that means not much rime but a reflection on how every word is used to construct meaning, sentences etc.

But reading and writing poetry takes from many different tradition. From Ulysses to Bukowski. I have the greatest admiration for anyone trying to write anything!

To all my readers here on WordPress I am so grateful for you reading my poems!

The Minotaur 

Finalising the unthinkable 

I have become a monster

A Minotaur in his dirty, stinking

Maze

Without entrance and exit

I walk around looking out 

The tiny Windows to see

What is going on in the

Outside world

Hoping, even expecting 

The one day an earthquake 

Will make the walls

Tremble and fall 

More than 4000 years

Have I been waiting

The world has changed

But the tyrants remains

Doing their dirty deed 

In front of me every day

While the water slowly

Grinds the stone

Christmas in Dubrovnik

Moving through  the highly risky

Terrain in a lush green forest

Above the old city

I remembered

The war more than 10 years ago

Still visible with all its

Shellmarks making

Roses on the ground

Telling a distant story

Of terror and death

The war had just ended

At Christmas, just a

Shell fired in the afternoon

From the enemy in order to

Make their presence known

Later that night

The captain shot

His girlfriend in a bar

Not far from the Hotel

The scars lingers under the surface

But surface

Cosmetic beauty  that money can buy

Is what you will see

 

Your Words

Overworked, tired

Full of contractions and contradictions

The information and understanding

Of my predicament that you have

Your words made me stop and think

Feeling deadly tired like a wounded animal

I retreat to my cave

I do not want to be part of your world anymore

Still I will