Blind Masses

The blind masses spoke with one voice

thinking that the people had the power

until the drums set the web spinning

and the thread was unravelled

while everyone insisted 

they knew the truth

* * * * *

An old wordle; Wordle 229. 
The words to play with were:

drum, mass, blind, voice, thread, web,
think, spin, people, power, until, insist

The empty chair

There is always an empty chair
in my house
in my garden
on my deck
in my car
everywhere
every time I sit down
anywhere
there is always an empty chair
near me

Det er alltid en tom stol

i huset mitt

i hagen min

på terrassen min

i bilen min

overalt

hver gang jeg setter meg ned

uanset hvor

er det alltid en tom stol

nær meg

I'm Scared

I am scared.
The memory of you and me in
this house
is starting to fade
It's becoming like it was always
just me here
and that scares me.

Jeg er redd.

Minnet om deg og meg i dette huset er

i ferd med å blekne.

Det begynner å føles som om det

alltid har vært bare meg her og 

det skremmer meg.

Remembering the mornings

I wake up to this dead silent house and remember that
I am me without you now

I pause for a moment there

in my new single bed and wonder
how can I be warm and comfortable without you next to me?

And I wonder if there is any point in getting up at all but I always do

while thinking that one day I will spend the whole day in bed and
not feel guilty about it

I start a fire in the wood burner
and remember how warm we kept the house those 
last four years when you were sick and always felt so cold

I go to the kitchen to make my coffee
and I remember how you used to make your omelet
and I used to make bacon and eggs
Now I just put coconut oil in my coffee and don't bother with food

Jeg våkner opp i dette dødsstille huset og husker at

jeg er meg uten deg nå

Jeg ligger stille et øyeblikk i min nye enkelseng og

undres litt over hvordan det kan gå an at 

jeg er varm og komfortabel uten deg ved siden av meg

Jeg lurer på om det er noen vits i å stå opp, men jeg gjør det alltid

mens jeg tenker at en dag skal jeg bli i senga hele dagen, uten 

dårlig samvittighet

Jeg fyrer opp i ovnen og
minnes hvor varmt vi hadde det i huset de

siste fire årene da 

du var mye syk og alltid frøs

Jeg går ut på kjøkkenet for å lage kaffe og 
tenker på at du pleide lage omelett og 
jeg stekte egg og bacon 
Nå tar jeg kokosolje i kaffien og gir blaffen i mat

Apologies

In my mind, I alternate between 

apologizing for you and

yelling at you

for not being here any more. 

I feel like I am less than half of 

who I was with you,

and that without you

I feel an obligation to fill 

both our roles.

So I keep apologizing for 

not being able to 

even fill my own role.

I hodet mitt veksler jeg mellom å 

unnskylde deg og

å kjefte på deg

for at du ikke er her lenger.

Det føles som jeg er mindre enn 

halvparten av

den jeg var sammen med deg,

men og at uten deg her må jeg fylle 

begge rollene våre.

Og så driver jeg å ber om 

unnskyldning for at jeg

ikke engang kan fylle 

min egen rolle.

Blessed

Love has touched me in so many ways,

as a lover, wife, mother and grandmother,

and as a daughter, sister and friend.

I am no longer a daughter, lover or wife.

These scars are deep and painful but

they are there because I have loved and been loved 

deeply 

and I am blessed by those scars.

Jeg har blitt berørt av kjærlighet på så mange måter,

som elskerinne, hustru, mor og mormor,

og som datter, søster og venn.

Jeg er ikke lenger datter, elskerinne og hustru. 

Disse arrene er dype og smertefulle, men

det er fordi jeg har elsket og blitt elsket

dypt

og jeg er velsignet av disse arrene.

©Inger-Marie

Crawling back up

Norsk tekst under bildet

When you thought you could not go                                                                          
any deeper,
the floor broke under your feet,
and you discovered that there was a 
basement too.

Dazed, you sat on the floor among 
the dust and the rubble.
There was no elevator
or staircase,
only a heap of boards,
a hammer,
some nails, 
and in order to get back up
you had to build your own ladder,
step by step
until it was big enough to
reach the hole you had 
fallen through.

The process was a long one as you 
worked in the dark,
felt your way around,
hit your fingers as much as the nails.
You bled, 
you screamed,
you begged,
but this was a lonely toil.

In the end you thought you had a ladder
but you didn't know what it looked like.
You made a foundation,
tested it for strength,
made sure it was in balance,
and only then could you
start to make your way up,
step by step.

Sometimes the steps were uneven.
Maybe you could take two steps at a time,
or some were too high to reach,
and you got stuck and had to improvise.
Some broke
and you fell back down and
had to start all over.

But eventually, 
out of breath and exhausted
you pulled yourself through the hole and 
collapsed on the floor.

Du trodde ikke du kunne havne 
dypere ned, men så 
knakk gulvet under føttene dine
og du oppdaget at det fantes en 
kjeller og.

Svimeslått satt du på golvet
i en haug av rusk og rask.
Det fantes ingen 
heis eller trapp,
bare en haug med planker,
en hammer,
noen spiker og
for å komme deg opp igjen 
måtte du bygge din egen stige,
trinn for trinn i mørket
til den nådde opp til hullet du hadde 
falt gjennom.

Det var en lang prosess der du 
arbeidet i mørket,
du følte deg fram,
og traff fingrene like ofte som spikrene.
Du blødde,
du hylte,
du tigde om hjelp,
men dette var en ensom jobb.

Etter ei stund trodde du at du hadde en stige,
men du visste ikke hvordan den så ut.
Du lagde et fundament
så den sto stødig,  
du forsikret deg om at 
den var sterk nok,
og i balanse, 
og først da kunne du ta fatt på 
veien oppover,
trinn for trinn.

Trinnene var ujevne.
Noen ganger kunne du ta to i slengen.
Noen trinn var så langt fra hverandre at du 
sto fast og måtte improvisere.
Og andre ganger knakk trinnet og 
du falt ned igjen og 
måtte begynne på nytt. 

Til slutt, 
anpusten og utkjørt
halte du deg opp gjennom hullet og
falt sammen på golvet.

©Inger-Marie

That October Day

Days like this.
Common, ordinary days.
And yet, horrible milestone days.
Rotten, putrid, appalling days that
slither in and through and around me.
Toxic, debilitating days that
paralyze me,
numb all senses and
leave me frozen to my core.

Lonely days -
- so lonely.

I did not think I could live through something like this.
I can survive, but can I live?
I still don't know.
I lost the person I felt safe with.

First Call

First morning call holds
that smell of sleepy breath,
that sleepy eye look.
Like by a rising tide
consciousness floods into 
every creek and corner
of a dissolving 
confused mind 
thoughts branching out and 
head spinning.

I trip over real and 
imaginary obstacles 
on my way out of dreams
and I cast my vote for another day 
giving it all the energy I can muster,
and spellbound,
I head out to face 
the rest of my life
one day at a time.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Wordle 

The words to play with were:

first, call, smell, look, tide, dissolve,
branch, spin, trip, vote, give, spell

Then, and now

I used to have sleepless nights before too.
But at the end of them there was always
a warm body
in a big bed
waiting for me.
Now there's a cold single bed
and woolen socks.

Weeping... and overcoming

Norsk tekst under bildet.

Some days the heavens weep with me,

so much that my roots are rotting

and my trail becomes unnavigable.

Surrounded by drizzle I

look for that tunnel that will shelter me 

but then the sun comes out and 

swiftly the drizzle 

turns to diamonds and they

become the medicine I need to

reach for the peak of my journey.

Noen ganger gråter himmelen med meg,

så mye at røttene mine råtner

og stien min blir ufarbar.

Omsluttet av regn leter jeg

etter tunnellen som kan skjerme meg,

men så kommer solen fram og 

regnet blir til diamanter som

blir medisinen jeg trenger for å 

kunne strekke meg etter høydepunktet 

på reisen min.

* * * * *

A Wordle. The words to play with were:

drizzle, rot, roots, diamonds, trail, tunnel,
swift, heaven, peak, weeping, medicine.
The word "saint" was in there too, but it didn't fit in, 
neither literally nor figuratively.

Moments/Øyeblikk

Norsk tekst under bildet

These crystal clear days

pastel evenings and 

velvet blue nights. 

These collections of moments
that are my life. 

Each moment is all there is.

Disse krystallklare dagene
pastellfargede kvelder og
mørke fløyelsblå netter.
Denne samlingen av øyeblikk
som er mitt liv.
Hvert øyeblikk er alt som er.

Survival

Norsk tekst under bildet.

You used to be my support
and shelter
my base
my anchor

Without you I am
thrown out of the boat

I drift aimlessly
tossed around by waves
in this life's ocean
sometimes pulled down
forced to hold my breath until I
can't stand it any longer
until I swallow water
and sink

Then I'm being pushed back
up to the surface by
unexpected currents
and at the same time
I gasp for air and
rid myself of
sickening sea water

Later
in the evening light
I float on a calm golden surface
grateful that I have survived
one
more
storm

Du var min støtte og 

beskyttelse

min base 

mitt anker

Uten deg er jeg 

kastet ut av båten

jeg driver målløst

kastet rundt av bølger

i dette livets hav

av og til blir jeg trukket ned

og tvunget til å holde pusten til

jeg ikke holder det ut lenger

og jeg svelger vann og 

synker

Så blir jeg dyttet opp

til overflaten igjen av

uventede strømmer

jeg gisper etter luft og

kvitter meg med 

kvalmende sjøvann

Senere

i kveldslyset

flyter jeg på en rolig gylden overflate

takknemlig for å ha overlevd

enda 

en

storm

 

Liberated Lines 5 Roar

I live my life
I am fine but
one day I
start sobbing
and I
sink down
And lying on my stomach
on my kitchen floor
I am kicking and screaming
roaring
until I have no more
voice
no more
tears
no more
sobs
no more
conscious thoughts left in my head
hoping that you can somehow
hear me
see me

I am in so much agony
because you are not here
any more

Liberated Lines 4 Incantation Let me sing my life

Let me sing my life

before I forget
what my voice sounds like

let me shine 
and be released

as I resolve my issues

may I depend on myself

and be my own shelter
open to myself

always dedicated to my new belief

that I design my life

let me review my life 

but never turn back

I did not crave this revolution

but I have won it

Liberated Lines 2 Naming Your Bones

My bones hold my most sacred truths
that I am strong and resilient
vulnerable and guarded
creative
hard as nails and light as a feather

I am a twig on a tree
with roots and branches
that go beyond my imagination

I am a human being
I am stardust
I am love.

Liberated Lines 1 My true names

I am a mother
grieving for her son
I am a wife
grieving for her husband
I am raw and
I ache for comfort

I am a survivor
I am strength
I am overcoming
I am picking myself up and moving forward

I am my own best friend and worst enemy,
and I am invisible.