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Daughter dear

Daughter dear, with your tangled tressesfreckled skin, I love your crooked teeth, your clawsthat reek of rot, your breath. Outcast you, like mecaved for shelter, I singwith booming voicefor you, my daughter dearof moss, of stone, of trees. We cackle at the lily-normsof fragile human girls, pink-dressed glitter-voiceda gem to break by sticks and rocks Daughter dear, sleep and snore and…

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Choice (or not)

Are you chosen by joyin the way a dust-moth danceswithout effort in afternoon sunor as a sea-song goesto rest on the beach at sunsetas the moon-street guides youinto heavenly sleep? Or do you choose joy by smiling,when you wake at 5 ama Monday in November tolashes of rain on the window.or when you slip in rottingleaves left to diebypassed by cars and by life? Is there really a choiceor a way of…

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Blame(d)

WARNING: my prose can be disturbing for sensitive persons and is of course 100% fictional. As November darkness devours  my sanity I recall how it started already when traversing into October out of the Ninth-month. Midnight stretches its claws both into dusk and dawn. Sleep-deprived I reiterate my failures,  my inability to be relevant. I remember my ambitions, now fermenting into defeats.  I…

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Deserted voices

faraway deserted church-bells tollfaraway deserted church-bells tollsoftly fall of paws, retracted clawssoftly fall of paws, retracted clawsdeserted paws of church-bells fallfaraway claws retracted softly toll from open graves their voices whisperfrom open graves their voices whisperblood-soaked words, revenge and deathblood-soaked words, revenge and deathopen voices graves whisper death andfrom…

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Mine is more

My sourdough starter,made from flour, waterequal parts by weightfed awakened in the morningbefore it’s time to bake,when the starter bubblesI mix with the strongestflour I can findfor taste some ryesome salt, then stretch and folduntil gluten binds,from sticky into smoothit swells a bit and just beforeI head to bed,the loaf is shapedinto a basket in the fridge. The morning afterI heat the…

[brudberg1]

Liars Behold

Oathbreakers, perjurers. sellersof snakeoil behold! your promisesbroken will change into daemonsof darkness, to amber-eyed imps,to the claw-fingered creaturesdevouring your spleen and probingprofoundly with delicate tools thesensitive crevices kept to yourself.Maligner, misleader deluder behold!,— forever you’ll burn  The Garden of Earthly Delights (detail)Hieronymus Bosch Today Lillian hosts…

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Fear of the dark

From darkness deep and with its gaze aglow,retracted claws, the varmint slithers, sneaksbelow skeletal branches, tender cunning, slowits mind on murder, when a sudden creak.exposes evil and your heartbeats race,you freeze but still intent you close your fistaround the dagger’s hilt prepared to facethe monsters, demons, those the devil kissed. Behold, above the silver moon is bared,and critter…

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Always forever

Always the lies, denial of factsrepeating deceits, alternative truthsAlways the acts, obscuring his fearsby never be silent or seeking adviceAlways the smears, spreading his venomthose who oppose are enemies, foesAlways in plenum with those of his cultchanting together of greatness in himAlways forever, the champion, a kingbut never, no never a grown-up, never adult By Sammy Sander…

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Autumn picnic

This weekend past we had a rare sunny day and on Saturday we went for a hike. We took the bus and brought with us some freshly baked sourdough, each one a thermos of tea, some apples and chocolate. In the bright sun the aspen trees seemed to be on fire, but the black skeletal branches reminded us that soon nature will dress itself in monochrome. Now, a Monday night, I sit and listen to the…

[brudberg1]

Ink-dance survival

Captured in ink-danceboth moon-street silver,bud-bursts blossom, forgotten springand alas, a sentence-explosionof built-up angerfor what’s lostto misinterpreted mind-mapsof a brow-folded soul. Still we nightshade forgetand gloss the axe-wordswith honey-muted lips. In silence remember the ink-danceof moon-silver spilled and live. Pierrot dancingEdouard Manet Today I host dVerse MTB and we are…

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Bread and rice

Sylla-bled each word,each sense,each scent, the parting sentence“au revoir, in Paris mon amour”the parrot says,again, again. She recallshis uniformand paddy fields, the river deltahis bicycle, both bread and rice. Waiting, each day the mailmanpasses by her housewhile the parrot says“bonjour, au revoir”again, again. Le Pho (1907-2001), Femme au perroquet (Lady with A Parrot) (1938), ink and…

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The delight of damnation

Delight me darling, smile and dancelet’s enjoy and spend the nightthen melt together take the chanceI’ll be your shining knightWe were meant to fuse, amalgamatealloyed forever we’re strongbut first of all let’s fornicatein my bedroom you belong Paul and Franscesca damned for fornication By Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres – [1], Public Domain, Today we are doing Quadrille at dVerse with De, and…

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Becoming the beach

“Time was a wave, almost cruel in its relentlessness.”― Han Kang, The Vegetarian Often as I age I think about sea-glass, I still remember the sharp edges, my toddler-rage, when my wants, my desires was everything all, the world was me, I was everything, I, I, I., but as I aged I discovered the world in ever wider circles, beyond my street there were other streets, meadows and forests, and  I…

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A righteous man

To be righteous doesn’t mean to be right but to be superior, a hero with a pale  skin to match. October, and there you can see a very small patch of dark blue, framed by a little branch pinned up by a naughty star guiding me through sleazy streets, past dilapidated buildings, vacant windows staring. From blind-alleys the faked moanings of vice commerce. I am needing followers, sinners had to be…

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Four hundred horsemen

Deep from dreams a holler crazedfrom crimson lips, my larynx winsa putrid wailing, grows erupts to blaze,in razor wire blood and common sinsSo dumb and daft, dictatorshipsin narcissism, napalm and gaswe kneel, we beg before the whipsand letting blood to soak the grassAt night letting innocents be rapedwhile corpses dangle from the beamsa future cruelly carved and shapedThere’s a reason why we…

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A killer Smug

Before the blizzard there is fallwith colours kissed by frost at nightwhen darkness grows as winter callsBefore the blizzard there is fallwhen still the daylight can be brightin days of sunlight autumn stallsBefore the blizzard there is fallwith colours kissed by frost at night Before it falls the last still hangswe cling to autumn on this leafwhen winter comes he bares his fangsBefore it falls…

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Librarians from the past

In the cellars underneath the marble hallsamong discarded manuscripts, cataloguesand inventories the ghosts of old librarianshaunts the crumbling vaults. While roamingwild they sigh in dewey decimal, bemoaningorders lost to dust and spider webs. Theycall in vain for those above to join them inthe quest to release the wisdoms lockedin ciphered parchment quilled by witches,necromancers and…