Poems of Strength (2010-2011)

With My Eyes Shut (2011)

I lie on the bed, listening
to you tap on the keys
on the computer, comforting
to know you are just a door away
You may show up in the doorway
any minute. Look at me. Any minute
I lie on the bed, listening for the minute

It's quiet and peaceful, tap, tap
I know you are there
at the computer, comforting to know
you are mine, this morning anyway
maybe tomorrow too. Listening
for the minute. My eyes are shut

I am dreaming. Listening to you
tap on the keys. The sound is gone
the minute I open my eyes
so are you and your computer
Listening, my eyes shut
You are mine, with my eyes shut



The City (2010)

Feeling tiny next to the towering cement and steal
The neon light from the Chinese joint paints the street
blue and green. Can't tell if the acidity comes from
the miles of walking or my empty brain

You are somewhere in this city
in a crowd, sipping cheap Savignon Blanc
wishing yourself away from the neon and the yellow
sea of cabs, wishing yourself away from the only
noise that can fill the holes in my head

The city is a blanket that weighs me down,
empties me, neutralizes me,
then fills me with noise and neon.
Noise and neon are good substitutes for weightlessness

I walk in a circle, so I don't reach the end
I don't want to leave, I want to live
here, in this mess, a mirror image of
me, me with neon and noise in my head
waste products that sometimes by magic
produce something bigger than me
and spit it out into the big trash can of
yellow cabs, suits and Savignon Blanc




The White Flag

I have lowered the white flag
Like bird Phoenix
black from the ashes I rise again
to old flames
and the thunder of cannons
The sky sucks me in with open arms
and the earth receives the gift of the sky


I draw my rusty sword
and get the metal to flame
again
bring out my colorful uniform
from the swamp
make myself visible again
removed from the unknown soldier's tomb
with golden buttons
and feathers in the cap

I get ready for the battle
accompanied by voluminous music
waving flags
and my horse's vibrating nostrils

No world can contain the warrior of the universe




A Body of Fire (2010)

My body is made of fire
Few can see it or feel it
but you burn your fingers when you touch me
I leave open wounds in you that never heal

Your fingers play with the flames in my body
the heat explodes like firework
red and gold, with streaks of silver
so painfully beautiful that I must scream

The flames burn me
but it doesn't hurt
it just makes me strangely hungry
for flames, larger, more corrosive and more destructive




The Color of Ice (2010)

Our color is the color of ice
transparent and yet white silver-ish and blue-ish
like an unpolished diamond
only more beautiful
like a pair of shining eyes
looking at the dim light of hope

The color of ice is the color we have in common
the color that exists in my field of vision
the color that is projected out in front of me
when I think of you
and the things we have done to each other

It is the color that unites us and tears us apart
delicate silver that rips open my stomach
makes me bleed
and fills me with warmth
it's the color my mother had when I was very little
before she turned orange and green
it is the color that glues me to you
and guarantees that you will never leave




The Sight of You (2010)

The light of magic has returned
full of delightful mystery
I am no longer stifled by a lack of oxygen
when you do not stand beside me

It is not a necessity that I own you
as long as I can sense you
the silver that surrounds you
the hardened surface of your skin and the softness underneath

Right now you're invisible and ambiguous
unobservable like Schroedinger's cat
But I know that when the time comes
I'll open the box and observe you

Dead or alive I will relish the sight of you
the sight that snatches the meat out of my heart
with its pearly teeth
the sight that dissects my brain
and slaughters my soul




A White Flower (2010)

There you stand tall and beautiful
covered with unspoiled flowers of spring
Your eyes cast a new light over the desolate room

You look at me
and at that moment, I instinctively know
that I have planted a seed in you
I know that it has sprouted and flourished
I know that the flower won't wither and die

My new knowledge covers my porous skin
with a warm blanket of prosperity
protecting me against the vacuum
I know that I am the magic flower
connecting the spheres in your brain






Text copyright © 2010 by Berit Brogaard
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