Wednesday, 18 October 2017

Writers are such peaceful creatures

What harm could lie behind our features?
No, writers are such peaceful creatures
We might indulge in words and wine
With purpose clear as if divine
We might just string you all along
And have you think we don’t belong
But we are human just like you
With eyes of red and hearts of blue

What tears could ever blur our features?
No, writers are such ugly creatures
Turn words against you on a whim
Then tear your body limb from limb
Turn poetry into a flood
Words written with a splash of blood
And if you were to make a sound
We’d write your bones into the ground

But then we would redeem our features
For writers are such lovely creatures
We’d reach Nirvana in a verse
Squeeze beauty out of every curse
Our words would open Heaven’s door
We’d write where no-one went before
We’d be the voices of the lonely
We’d make our lies come true—if only!

Love and relentless poetry,

Thursday, 12 October 2017

Running and why it's worth it

Somebody told me I have a runner's body. My first thought was no, a runner's body would have strong bloody joints that could withstand the mild, repetitive shocks that impact with the ground entails. I've come far enough in my training by now that it is essentially my knees and ankles that stop me from running as far as I'd like to. They tend to protest loudly long before my breath or general stamina runs out. But then again, I am working on that, doing exercises pretty much every day. And apart from my treacherous joints, I suppose as a runner I have a lot to be thankful for in terms of genes.

Even so, I'd venture genes is a rather minor part of it all. I believe most (generally able-bodied) people could to some extent master most kinds of physical activities. Some people are born strong or fast or vigorous, but discipline will usually make much more of a difference. It's about taking whatever you have to work with and building your body into a place for your soul to enjoy residing in.

It's not easy, mind you. Taking care of your physical well-being in this day and age requires active effort. But it's so incredibly worth it. Once upon a time I got fed up with being sickness-prone, perpetually tired, and assailed with heartburn and dizziness if I ran so much as down the street. Then I resolved to learn how to run. I did, with a lot of benefits, and eventually I even learned to like it. I won't pretend it solved all the problems of my life, but running has granted me a lot of peace over the years, both physically and mentally.

I've taught my feet to step lightly, my breath to be steady, and my heart to beat vigorously but slowly. I've learned to be thankful for every bit of wind, sunshine, rain, sunrise, sunset or starry sky that comes my way. I've learned to overcome the revulsion of dragging myself out of bed for an early morning run, or forcing myself out the door when a cozy evening on the sofa beckons. If I get sick or injured I find myself counting the days until I can go out there and once again let my body float across the ground.

To each their own and whatever works for you, of course. Far from everyone enjoys the slow, almost meditative way of running which has become my preferred way of exerting my body. Or even running at all. Just do something. Don't have enough time? Oh, please. It's all about priorities. Make some time by taking away something you could live without, at least for half an hour a week. Together with someone, or alone. For a challenge, or the sheer delight of feeling strong. And don't underestimate the power of habit. That half an hour might turn into an hour, for two or three or four days a week, and before you know it, exercise might not be as much of a struggle anymore.

Go for it, because it will make a difference for your mental health. Build your body, into a fucking temple or just a cozy little cottage. Not for looks but for the feeling of power that comes with it.

Love and strength,

Tuesday, 3 October 2017

I will never tell you not to cry

What sorrows do you hide behind your eyes?
Come, tell me what you’ve tasted of despair
Cast off the smile you wear as a disguise
Let loose your demons and let down your hair

What curses have you bellowed at the sky?
Come, tell me all your hatred, I implore you
For I will never tell you not to cry
I will adjure you: drive your rage before you!

What passions have you buried in your heart?
Come, tell me what you’ve tasted of desire
Release all that’s been tearing you apart
Forget your shame, go set the world on fire

Instead of getting lost in devastation
Let anguish be the source of your creation

My life right now should contain more sleep and less writing of poetry. But how can I deny the words  their manifestation on the paper when writing feels more like channeling than creative work? I didn't ask inspiration to force itself upon me, but there I am, wide awake with an exquisite line of verse I've been ruminating on for months finally finding its company among syllable after delicious syllable.

It's not always like this, mind you. Most of the time I have to fight for inspiration and trudge through the marshes of wording and revision just like anyone else. But sometimes the spark of creation ignites my soul so thoroughly I have to scrounge something together from what's inside me lest I burst. While I hold a deep love for music, creating even the simplest melodies is quite beyond me, and painting I gave up seeking to master a long time ago. Words, however, I've made into my element, and now I find them summoning me more often than the other way around.

I might be a tiny bit obsessed, but what of it? Isn't life worth a little pain and exhaustion when there is art on the line?

Love and blank verse-compulsion,

Monday, 2 October 2017

What do you dream of as you walk the Earth?

What do you dream of as you walk the Earth?
What is it that you yearn to set on fire?
A chaos of deep passion from your birth
Made you into a creature of desire

What guides your footsteps on the road to hell?
What draws your eyes to heaven when you pray?
Not quite an angel or the one that fell
Yet always with your urges on display

What fears are lurking deep within your heart?
What beauty can you teach your eyes to see?
Can you convey the human soul through art
And take for granted that the will is free?

Are you divinity poured into mud
Or just an empty shell of flesh and blood?

Love and sonnets,

Thursday, 28 September 2017

Happen to me

If I let you
Happen to me

Pretend words have no meaning
Let you build
A fence of language
A language offence
To hold against me
You ought to hold against me
The border of your skin

Between our fingers entwined
A distance so far
An ocean in our eyes
Drifting us apart
Words echoing through solitude
In our embrace

If we tear words apart
Rebuild from syllables
Scattered like clothes across the floor
Cross only borders
Of getting across

Could I 
Happen to you?

Love and words,

Tuesday, 26 September 2017

Paradiset mellan mina händer

Skam och skuld härskar helt orimligt över mitt liv. När kan jag kasta den ifrån mig? Finns det områden i mitt liv som den inte berör? Ja, jag tror det.

Jag har hållit paradiset mellan mina händer. Är inte den insikten nog för att leva ett helt liv i salighet? Helt oberoende av gudar och deras eventuella makt över mig så är hela världen fylld till bredden av helighet. Ibland, i vissa flyktiga ögonblick, är det överväldigande uppenbart. Kärlek, enhet, kalla det vad som helst. Det tillstånd där illusionen om en gräns mellan mig och världen äntligen upphör. Där vill jag leva, och bara rädsla ligger i vägen.

Kärlek och mod,

Tuesday, 5 September 2017

Science fiction at its best

The Telling (Hainish Cycle #8)The Telling by Ursula K. Le Guin

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

A marvellously thought-provoking and well-written book. Having read my way through the Hainish cycle has placed Ursula K. Le Guin among my favourite authors. All of the Hainish books are good. Four of them are brilliant, and I would recommend everyone to read them:
- The Word for World is Forest
- The Dispossessed
- The Left Hand of Darkness
- The Telling
They are all stand-alone and do not have to be read in any particular order. This is Science Fiction at its best: using futuristic ideas of society and technology to discuss issues of great relevance to humanity today; such as bigotry, oppression, imperialism, sexism and environmental issues.

View all my reviews

Review: Paradise Lost

Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained (Signet Classics)Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained by John Milton

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

“The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven”

What it may lack in subtlety it makes up for in eloquence. A recap of the Bible, from Satan's point of view, in the form of an iambic sledgehammer.

View all my reviews

Tuesday, 29 August 2017

You're so much more than good enough

Are you okay?
Can you hear me in there?
What are you doing to yourself?
Only what others have done to you
It's not okay

You're good enough
You're so much more than good enough
They were wrong
They were wrong, and you don't owe them a thing
You can break free from all this
You're holding your own chains now

What scars are you hiding in the bottom of your heart?
What wounds will never really heal?
Gods, you're beautiful
You deserve all the love in the world

Did you know that tears are something you hide behind?
And I know you can't stop it when it rises in your throat
But you can pull through it
Shame is the only demon that needs exorcising from your body

You don't have to do anything
But I can see that you want to
And you can
You can stop apologising
For everything, for existing

You will get there, I know it
You're on your way
Towards yourself

Tell everybody I'm on my way
And I'm loving every step I take

Self-love goddamnit,

Tuesday, 22 August 2017

I've got life

I have a job!!! A job relevant for my qualifications, even. I have a home, I have friends, I have love, I have a body, I have my health, I have beautiful memories, I have hope for the future, I have the spark of creation surging through my being, I have liiiiiife. And what a life it is. Is it reasonable to claim that I somehow deserve all of this? I don't know, how would you even measure such a thing? Lucky for me at the moment, life isn't fair. But it sure is beautiful.

Wouldn't it be a lovely headline?

Love and life,