Catch in life

Add a heading(1)Catch in life. Fishing lure passes through the air and lands at the edge of the reeds. The pike chops the fishing tackle directly. The pike is a little when it is up on the gray rock. How many hours in my life have I seen the fishing tackle go through the air? Fishing has followed me since childhood. Fishing herring in the spring and pimple perch on the winter, with the ice drill drilling hole after hole. Now only the memories are left of the happiness’s face when the fish nipped. I am chasing completely different things in my life now. The biggest I haven’t had to nip, yet. The happiness of being able to succeed, catching the happiness. So it becomes permanent as an immobile rock by the sea. Happiness is thinner than air and infuses away through the gaps in life’s crackled corridors of cotton-like, air castles. Does it even exist? It is said that you must have a counter-pole in order to experience the other. So the opposite of happiness may be sorrow. Without the grip of grief in the River of Life, happiness cannot be captured.
The cat mom eats up the kittens is a picture I try to push away. But it is not possible and maybe it is the picture that takes me closer to happiness. How many times do I have to face the opposite pole before it becomes permanently anchored in the frozen core of my heart? There are so many questions I can’t answer. Imagine if I could just be ordinary. Don’t philosophize much. Just think of everyday events in life. Jobs, rest, food and where to go next vacation. Simple and concise. I crank the line of life, once again and hope that this catch is what I want most. But once again I am disappointed. Another road choice that gave fiasco. I clear the lure and prepare the next throws. Faith is said to be able to move mountains. I think everything will be better, I throw in the stream of life.
Now I will pull up the catch of the happiness of life that takes me to the stone by the sea, where time stands still and everything is ok….

Quiet Flows the River

This week will be a cryptic lyrics and two cryptic poems. It is not meant to understand. The idea is to take in and let everything be. The poems are written in the late 90s … the text is written now 21 October 2016. Happy reading …

Quiet Flows the River

Quiet flows the river down to the infinite. Which direction should I take? It is said that only dead fish float with the river. It means I have to swim up the river if I should live. Up to the source of my life. For the origin of everything, I stand for in my life. When there are a current and rapids, is almost impossible to crack.

Then I jump like salmon, the salmon stairs, so I will not go down by the river.
Jump I often enough to take me on in the stream of life …

The seagulls are always on the lookout for prey like me. Screaming his croaking roar and looks for to extinguish hunger in the calm water current.

Night and day I swim up against something I do not know. Moon warms me, not. But only creates mystery, with the shimmer of water. The sun gives me hope and warmth that time does not stand still.

I rest in a hole of sadness. Dark, black as night, but printed cuddly like a chrysalis of a butterfly undeveloped.

Beautiful, you are, only you have time to rest and break out of your cocoon.

Fly freely, without fighting, into the life sprinkling stream. Wings should I get, and then you should see all the beauty of life that can be….

Poem nr 1

The lady rocks forward,
on trembling stick

Cats smarts of mice’s allure

Runny stearic, talking about
combustible’s existence

Waiting pigeons brooding among the dust-filled
nostrils in future ESTATE

 

Poem nr 2

The parable of spruce tree and tulip

a spruce tree lawn green, but not wilted, as a tulip

tulips sprout onion underground, as the bear asleep in hibernation

In the spring, the bear hibernation leaves, in hunger on the way to another wilderness.

The wind howls, on the plain, while the wolf howling in the darkness of night

In obscurity, a scarecrow standing and swaying after crows

A man takes a crow from the road to death

Without reservation coffin, flowers, go to ground

I just walk on, home to an unknown country