TO NOTHING

Hun kommer gående på
lette fødder
uden at sætte mærker og

Bringer en kold ro
med sig som ringe
i vandet, den spreder sig

Mens hun langsomt
danser ad mine åres stier
og forvandler farver

Til det monokrome
og lyd til
intet











Drawing by Karel Viteslav Masek 1897, "Girl in long dress", via The Baruch Foundation

TO SEE CLEARLY

And when you became
uneven like the
sky collapsing

you twisted it around
pulling out the meaning
with a strength

coming from stubbornness
but also from eternity -
the circle of mind

knowing a different time
will come around eventually
even closer than now

where you need
just need
to see clearly


Photograph by Pavel Banka, the series "Seems I Met Them Before" image no. 35, 1984.

TO CAPTURE

Det kan være så svært
at finde og fastholde
grænserne for din skønhed
som synes at brede sig
ud som fjer af en vifte
eller kold mælk på en
bordplade - konstant
i bevægelse

Fin og enkel som
farven hvid
er den, din skønhed
og så bevæger den sig
er så omskiftelig
minder mig med glemte
stemninger om noget
hvis identitet jeg ikke
husker

Kun dets dufts skønhed
og den klare
forvirring

SAYING NOTHING

The way I'm not in the mood

just dazed
making priorities
which I tear down
with hands that do not care

Care
of what? the light
no, the night air
which I'm taking from the
sky
just tucking it down in the
pockets of my jacket

filling my mouth with it
so that I can not speak

When saying nothing
I hear EVERYthing

- STILL LIFE -

everything is not decided
i like it to be unknown
unfinished in a very dull way

like the slow change
of landscape when

leaves on the edge of colour
are breaking over to nothing
but mortality

and then this change
when suddenly
it all collides ending in

still life

it feels like
everything is decided
anyway

METAPHOR

Så nej. Lad mig nu være.
Lad mig forblive kold - det er
så nemt

Jeg smiler (som i forbitrelse)
- nej! af glæde og tilfredshed
når jeg ser, mærker, gåsehuden
på mine arme.
og så helt ind i hjertet

Men dét med hjertet
det er jo bare et
metafor

DO YOU GET THE PICTURE?

Mand, lav.
Med tyrkis 80'er -vindjakke, skaldet og med guld-tuborg på dåse,
let krøllet,
nærmest bukket midt over.

Haster afsted med leopard-plettet trolley skridende efter sig.

HONEY CRASH

Harpiks som honning
dryppende fra mine fingerspidser

Står som forstenet og
ser dråberne ramme gulvet

Med et brag
glas mod sten lyder det

Farven som løber er
den af dine pupiller

OF MY SKIN

I'll just have that
master of none
hanging around
my neck
in the afternoon sun
it will look like
a thin chain of
silver

Small pearls of metal
dripped 'round my
throat

It will move and
be slightly cold
it will never get the
temperature of me
of my skin

AS I FALL

this open space of yours
just down by the
dark edge of the clouds
where we are
running with the rain
the water which must come
unavoidable

where i will turn
and watch the earth
disappearing beneath me
in silence
no one will yell
there's no one to move their lips

i might close my eyes

just feeling the wind licking my
fingertips
moving my hair from the neck
as i fall

SLEEP

hvis du er smart
kalder du det
SOVEKAMMERØJNE,
lader som om eksamen ikke
eksisterer
og sover noget mere

CAGE - PLASTIC

Som barndommens og
fast food-kædernes plasticboldsrum
Klaustrofobisk mast ind i et
glasbur med tre sider
og en rutschebane som forlystelse

Ligger jeg
svævende frit
men rammer
bunden, gulvet som er
af beton med sand og skidt
og gamle hårelastikker
og du griner af mig fordi
jeg troede
troede jeg flød i et hav

af plastic

WORD OF MIND

hækbølge

det eneste der sidder fast
er det
ord som virker vanvittigt

måske bare mindre forvrænget end resten
eller endda stedet hvor lyset reflekteres

måske fint og åndssvagt
bare det

MEANS

When concrete
feels soft
under feet

smile you
damned

and something
hot is like
ice on my
fingertips

the
nervous system
does not

react at all

when all means
are used

in the same second

ROYAL BREAKDOWN

Ha - you fool at the window
looking for flying creatures
Swans floating under the clouds
of this dark morning

They won't show
sitting on the edge of the sky
watching you
your movements and
how you open your mouth
hoping for a sound

But nothing begins
this is how it goes down

Anna is home, we saw a swan today. Then I got a Frisbee thrown in my forehead, and now I drink "royal wedding tea" from the UK (it's kind of freaky how much you can get with that wedding on). Wow - a day summary with all the unnecessary stuff removed. Exciting. xx

WE ARE

Jeg skubbes overbord
med hovedet i hænderne

lyd strømmer fra øjnene

Besked i mørket
som lodder natten sammen

Smeltet gitter
en legering af
hvad ingen ved

vi er

DON'T TELL ME THAT EVERYTING IS RELATIVE

jeg ved ikke hvad der
kom først
det skal vel blomstre
før det kan dø
eller måske væltes før
det kan stables

men det dufter
og luften løftes på fuglens
vinger og bliver lettere
mere klart
gennemsigtigt på tungen
og i overflod
tag så meget
mere tag hvad du vil

mens jeg springer
griber fuglens vinger i luften











Abstract painting, Nr. 8, by Mark Rothko

I GOTTA RUN RUN

go go run for time no time our time broken to atoms just move do anything Oh My - Run This Town (RESET! Rmx) by RESET!

I WILL MAKE YOU FORGET THE ANSWER

I HASTVÆRK VIL FARVER RINDE UD LYS FORSVINDE OG BLØDT MØRKE GENNEMSTRØMME OS

blødt
så stille usynligt set
så du ud gennem sikkert
hvidt og alment
slør forbinder nerverne
eller ikke. i et stof
væske som løber blåligt
under huden

TRÅDE trækker og
forbinder i skrøbeligt
net

hvordan holdes det sammen?
det rinder over stenene og bliver varmet af solens lange blik
og videre























Photo taken in Malmö a while ago

THE LIAR THE HEAT

Han sagde jeg løj. At mine ord
formede spind, fælder i tågen som
forvitrede gange af udtryk

Jeg forbløffes ved følelsen
af tyngde der vipper og bliver
let mens verden lyver

At ligge! Jeg vil lægge løgneren
ned i søvnen, i varmen, i trippet
der affødes af skiftende lys og farver

Dine øjne vil jeg lukke med.
Med i varmen.

INFERNO

When I smile too
often
I cant't figure
how the rain
coloured my hair
deeper louder
it will sound
much
more intense
cried out playinsgs
on my cheekbone
collarbone white
blue against bright shades
it's not human
interesting how you smile
in that glimpse of
a second
of time there's a
relative
like everything else
like you said,
I'm nothing but
small pieces in one
falling apart like so many
at the same time
we are pieces of this feeling
this inferno


They call it "fast-writing" - the type of writing where you don't stop, until you don't got any words left at all. Leaves me emotionally stunted in a way. xx

FINE FINE BLUE

Fine fine blue
good purple
leave me in an ocean
of soft absence

Ripples in powder
apertures in the
bridge

I can dimly see
the water from
here
but I want to fall

make the iron
burn









I've got a new load of notebooks for my growing collection. The newcomers is from Swedish Pocket Shop, which is a book shop with a take away-princip (they're to be found on bigger train stations in Sweden). It's nice to write without lines and on softer paper than the Moleskine in leather contains. Spring calls for changes! (-;
xx

ADRENALIN

Adrenalin
Splits me in halves
While we are running
falling for the
Time of the full moon
Shining through dust

Pale but orange like
The sun

Adrenalin makes me
shake
suddenly just living
by impulses


Jim Morrison said that he was interested in every action that had no meaning - games just being played for no reason but for the fun of it. Matter of course. I follow him.

MAP OF MIND

Noget smuldrer
små stykker
Mens jeg sidder
på kanten med
ansigtet i hvilende
i Håndflader
Mine fødder dingler
grus fors-vinder i

Afgrunden

Der er intet
at Gøre, kun
Tyngdeloven er
gæld-ende

LET IT BLEED

Kulden er stabil
intens temperatur

Bliv ved med at
b l ø d e

Opfatte er helligt

Måske forvandles
du til noget
Nej, jeg vil have
du ER

uomtvistelig
af form
i
f o r m e n


The title of The Rolling Stones' album "Let It Bleed" fascinates me as well as the music.

PINK PLASTIC SPOON

The Raveonettes are soon out with new material, and that makes me think of the good old stuff - Love In A Trashcan was made for the prairie!
By now, I just look forward to more sun that will make the ground thaw, so that we can drink beer and eat ice cream, listen to music and use our sunglasses to death, lying in the green grass. The dream is taking me away. xx A.

GOLDEN DROPS

Før var stuen badet
I lys af samme farve
Som gyldne dråber

Af det som kommer

Nu er månen en
Skal på himlen

Så skrøbelig -
Den kan knække
Hvert sekund

Når vi laver bølger
Af bevægelse i luften
Vil den smuldre

Forvandle os til
Intet

I WANT TO

I WANT TO THROW THE

SKY INTO THE SEA

MAKE IT ALL BOIL AND

SUDDENLY EXPLODE

or maybe i should just
paint my forehead with
colours of the mind
and let it be
make it stay that way

THIS is a precious way
of STAYING blind

STEPPE FIRE

onde cirkler
venskabelige firkanter som lukker mig inde i symmetri
og systemet tiltaler mig kontrol gør det mindre vanskeligt tillader tankeløshed fordi
jeg følger linjen med lukkede øjne mine hænder bliver mindre søgende
og vaklen bliver til march bare tæer på udspændt line
røde striber over huden muskler ryster af anstrengelse og jeg kun fokuserer på ét punkt som opretholder bevægelse men samtidigt sætter mig i komplet stilstand
mine tanker findes ikke
ikke mangfoldige og svævende men
stadige som en tyk masse der tynger mit hovede
jeg efterlyser en steppebrand Steppebrand som først forgifter
men senere renser luften

ROSE FROM SPACE

looking
wanting to see you most clearly
a rose from space is what you are
not necessarily perfect
but radioactive
enough to make
me think
to make my hands shake
loosing control
without even having
the slightest
chance

you make my mind still
for moments
longer than years


Photo by Robert Mapplethorpe. Been addicted to his work since reading "Just Kids" by Patti Smith. Yes, that was a recommandation. xx A.

ACCUMULATION

Jeg tror ikke vi
Forstår omfanget af
Slugt lys som
Ophobes i
Lungerne

Sidder fast
Påvirker reflekser
Mens jeg drukner
I mit eget
Hav

Af kolde stråler
Og virkeligheden
Ser til som solen
Der skinner gennem
Vandoverfladen

Alt bliver sløret
Alt falder hen
Sukker og blinker
Så her bliver mørkt
Igen

PETALS

You've dropped the
Tulip on the floor
The head
Bleeding with petals

Wondering how to
Make a replacement
You sit down
Closing the eyes

You are the
Morning wanderer
Fleeing from the sun
You will only run

Into soft darkness

CUT CUT CUT

Neither one
Was clear

Make a cut
Every friday

Cut cut cut

Making it sound
Like a game

Cut cut
It out

Waste it
Drop it

Make it match
The broken floor

Fragments

Blow them away

With
Cold air

MARBLE

Jump
from
the

Staircase
Of marble

And
I
will
scream

Untill
the
moon

Turns
black

Tomorrow








I just found this photo from last summer in Provence. It was taken in the the smallest hill top-village, and I remember it was like stepping back in time.

Yesterday I watched Black Swan holding Claudia's hand - yes I'm easily scared! The film was dominated by the colours black and white, in a very beautiful, clear way. It kind of reminded me of my own room, just without a crazy ballerina (; xx A

ALUMINIUM

Underlig bleg sol
Lyser havet op og
Får hver en dråbe
Til at skinne
Som aluminium

Det lette metal
Svæver og skaber
Mønstre på himmelen
Vikler sig om
Enhver vandmolekyle

I luften
Dråberne falder og
Knuses mod fornuften

I'm not usually lazy, but today I would like somebody to put time on standby, so I could just stand. Just looking at the pale sky and inhale enough oxygen. Haven't got much lately, it feels like. /A

BLOOD SISTER

Blood sister
Of jackets and smiles
Your blond hair
Touching my cheek
Eyes laughing like
Flaps of a bird's wing

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RESIN AND SMOKE

Scars of light when I
Close my eyes
Thin stripes cut in
Flickering darkness
Hands shaking while
My breath slowly stops

Scars of the heat while
Wasting my time
On glittery reflections on
Mysterious nights
Bathed in scents
Of resin and smoke

Sometimes you can be too tired to sleep or too bored to do anything about it. I'm neither, and both. I don't know, don't know. //Amanda

.: CLAUDIA :.

Whirling the dust
Up as she walks
Changing it to glitter
With a touch
Of thought

You look while
She turns around
The axis of grace
Turning, dancing
Under darkness

Under thin lace
Baring her teeth
You need her
Moving in parallel
With the wood

Waterfall

BOOT RUSH

I'm ill, so I have the permission to dream of all the stuff I can't afford. These Acne boots are amazing. I won't even mention the prize though.

Take a look on their pink site yourself.

CONTROLLING THE SMOKE

So you were controlling
The smoke just by
Licking on your fingertips
Proving me wrong
While turning the
Weather around in
A quick spin of
Your eyes

Objects taking other
Shades and shapes
The lights winking at
Me from their homes
Of danger, risk

Risking to drop my
Awareness on the
Wet ground

BALLOONS ON THE FLOOR

Balloons on the floor
Reflects the sparkling
Of your eyes
They fly to the sky
Creates bubbles in
My mind
Making me think
More clearly
Wanting you to shine
Oh girl, you look
So beautiful
With flowers in
Your hair

A little poem for my sis on her birthday - 9 years. And how pretty and happy she is! Love you little A <3>

WATER UNDER ICE

Tværsnit over knæene
Mens jeg tyrer klementiner
Ind på den frosne sø
Tramper på isen for
At splintre gitteret
Oprørt blik bliver mødt
Af notorisk kulde
Naturens ligegyldighed og
Langsomme væsen
Plager mig
Er en torn i øjet på
Den der vil leve af drømme
Og stjernestøv

Som frugterne synker
Og bliver grå i grønt vand
Slår en hysterisk latter
Mod væggene i mit hoved
Og jeg vender mig fra hende
Tvivler på at øjnene
Kan fortælle andet end
Dårligt nyt

KALEIDOSCOPE

Lysende fjer i en
Hvirvelvind af farver
Neon udfolder sig
Åbnes når jeg lukker
Mine øjne
Som cirkler i evig
Bevægelse
Ingen sans for tid

Kan ikke røres
Med hænder men på
Tungespidsen kan
Gnistrende sødme smages
Brænder gennem
Svælget som tanker
Der maser sig
Rundt i ring

Photos also by me. Simple, but they fit the poem, I think. Enjoy your Sunday - the weirdest day of the week where everything goes so slow. //Amanda

MEMENTO MORI

And I had that
Liquid dark feeling
Like blood dripping
From my wrists

I didn't know
What to do with it
How I could push
It around

I would like to
Hide it under the earth
But not break it
To pieces

I wanted to keep
It in my breast
This darkness always
In movement

"Momento mori" means "remember we are mortal". But poetry is not. - Gregory Corso

TANGLED

1.Bernice Fercik-Swenson, 2. Robert Mapplethorpe + Patti Smith