Where is your faith?

In your heart,

your head,

Around you?

Where do you look

when darkness falls

and actions are futile?


Would you


If you were given the opportunity, would you reset the world?

Would you reset your own life?

No more of the things that bother you. But also no more of the good things that  came about.

One can argue the degree of good and bad, how worth it was it, so on and so forth.

But resetting could become a nasty habit if it were an alternative.

No more lessons. Because consequences need to be what they are, in order for us to learn.

Treats & Threats



«Welcome to us, you big colossus!

Come in come in!

It is a brave thing, to dare to be happy,» said the mouse. «I must be up and about constantly, because there`s so many who wants to eat me.»

«That sounds awful», I say to the mouse.

The Mouse shakes its head, then says with a smile;

«But there is so much good stuff to eat, everywhere! Crumbles for you are a feast for me. Around every corner there are treats as well as threats. I enjoy every second of my life, while it`s still mine to live.»




«Velkommen til oss, du svære koloss!

Kom inn kom inn!

Det er en modig ting å våge å være glad,» sa musa. «Jeg må være konstant på farten jeg, for det er så mange som vil spise meg.»

«Det høres forferdelig ut,» sier jeg.

Musen rister på hodet og sier smilende,

«Men samtidig er det jo så mye godt å spise overalt! Smuler for deg er herremåltider for meg. Det er både godbiter og farer rundt hvert et hjørne. Jeg nyter hvert sekund av mitt liv jeg får lov til å leve.»

Cat Poetry: A Kitten Sonnet

The little kitten pokes the mitten with its paw,

the threads in the wool reminds kitty of `nother toy;

a ball of yarn, which also easily hooks the claw,

and awakens within kitty: instinct and joy.

In a moment of sharp-edged innocent desire;

a thread of wool in the claws of a little kitten.

A serious play, this is. For the mitten, `tis fire,

it is like kitty is of a higher power smitten.

The power of mother Nature

teaches kitty the laws of the cat.

Every mitten comes from an act of filature,

every kitten is a lion, and that is the end of that.

So when your kitten chases mitten on the floor,

enjoy the sight of nature`s why and wherefore.

Garden of Trauma/Traumehagen


I know all the plants

living and growing

in my Garden of Trauma.

Flowers beautiful,

thorns sharp,

and I can handle the sight of blood.

Wandering in the Garden of Trauma,

I collect knowledge about the plants that grow here.

Their poison, their medicine.

Like sharp-tailed scorpions

they poke holes

in any new or old boil.

The rotting and the sprouting.

Tombstones covered in moss

and framed by wild bushes.

It sleeps and grows in restless symbiosis.



Jeg kjenner til alle de vekster

som bor og gror

i mn Traumehage.

Blomster vakre,

torner skarpe,

og jeg tåler å se blod.

Vandrende i Traumehagen,

samler jeg kunnskap om vekstene som gror her.

Deres gifter, deres medisin.

Som skorpioner med skarpe haler

stikker de hull

på enhver ny eller gammel byll.

Det råtne og det spirende.

Mosegrodde gravstener

omgitt av ville buskas.

Det sover og gror i en hvileløs symbiose.

About Moods: Flowers And Flesh-Eating Plants



The will to compensate,

or rather the urge to compensate,

is a strong one.

Albeit a destructive one.

It stirs up the soil

in which you try to grow some flowers

before the season is over.

The season is your mood, your current flow;

the current which flows

right below the surface.

the surface of the facade

that you keep

in order to survive.

Each current so brief and so overwhelming,

there is not enough time to learn how to care for these potential flowers.

Each current starts so optimistically,

but all I am left with, are self destructive powers.

These roses turn into flesh-eating plants

All the stardust pollination from the flowers

turn to acid, sharp teeth

the plant eats all my attempts at happiness

steals them

and keeps them out of my reach