paintaword

i ljusgröna lundar, i knoppdoft
av sommar, i björkskog runt
blommor på böljande ängar,
kring stränder så lena mot
de ljusaste sjöar; jag färdas
på vägar av sand och av
trängtan, i sol och i
tröst

i djupmörka nätter som
doftar av vete, i glasisad
vinter bland utfrusen lätthet, i
känslor, i nöd och i
lust; i fägran
stor

drar vidare genom
upplysta städer, gator
av asfalt, bland höghus
och fönster, kring
kommers och saknad,
korvstånd och krogar, vimmel;
jag spelar min invanda
gatumusik

och kylan så intensiv, exploderar
där inne inre, stickade vantar
med avklippta fingrar, rockar
och kappor, mössor och
luvor, märken, etiketter och
alla barn, alla mammor och pappor,
familjer

alla drar vidare, skiter väl
jag i, alla andra på vandring men
jag helt tvärtom och
sommarens sjunger sitt vemod;
våren är ljusast och
jag gungar i hösten, den innan
krigen,

jag gungar och hoppas men
låter mig fångas, fastnar i väven, det
är så det ska bli men jag gungar i
hösten, den innan krigen, jag
gungar i stunder av sorg och
av saknad, jag längtar till frihet men
klamrar i famnen, jag drömmer
om annat men jag
låter bli

Läs mera av Penazza på https://penazzas.wordpress.com

Amshir

My story  I´ll try to tell you, but you have to promise me that you let go of all your preconceptions about life, death, love and hate, good and evil. You have to read this with an open mind and an open heart. Shadows of the past will cross our time and our times shadows will be draped like black velvet in the future to be.  We can change or we can remain the same. Only you can decide. I change but the same time I kept true to myself. Every person I met during this episode in my life had formed me to see that everything is neither black and white nor just about lightness or darkness. It is all about different shadow´s of gray. I learned to see beyond the rules of life in order to stay alive.

We all have been here before. We have all walk this earth so many times in different shapes and forms. Century by century your soul have outlived.  I´m not crazy. I´m not some nutcase stuck in a unreal world within myself. We cross dimensions all the time. You may not be aware of it but we do.

My story is one of many. All around you there are people who know the truth. Not many wants to talk about it as you might understand.

So why tell you the secret? Will you believe it or will you just see it as another novel you

plough your way through. Glance over the pages while your mind is planning for what to buy for dinner. My only wish is that you will read it carefully. Then decide if you should believe it or not. Remember to keep your mind and heart open.

It all began on a Wednesday morning.

This morning started out like all other days. The alarm went on at 6:15 and I pressed the snooze button a least three times before dragging myself out of bed. I am not a morning person. I never have been and I never will be. I do everything on routine. Brush my teeth; put my clothes on and then having that cup of coffee to wake me up. This rainy morning I was really late. I ran as fast that I could. Rounded the corner of the block, just to see the bus drive away.  My heart was pounding and my lungs felt like there were going to explode. I have none fitness what so ever. I smoke too much. Bad for my health.  But who cares. My life was not such a success anyway. Who cared if I lived or died? I started to walk. The rain began to seep inside my collar of the jacket. This was just another shitty day. I was going to be late again. My boss, who were a real Hitler-kind of lad, would not listen to my excuses. There had been to many of them recently. I turned left on Kingsroad.  Passed the old lady with the worn out coat and her wrinkled face. She always sat there, on the bench under that chestnut tree. It was like she was watching me. Following my every step, every morning when I missed that bus and every afternoon, when I had to work overtime to catch up, so I missed the bus back home. Why didn´t I have a car? I could afford one.

Suddenly I felt a strong hand on my shoulder and then the voice of a young girl saying:
“You don´t need a car where you are going young man.”
Next I felt something like a warm breeze running thru me. And then a pain so strong I could not breathe. My whole body felt like it was turning inside out.  The girls voice said, like from a distance

“Don´t be afraid, lad. Or maybe you should. It depends on what they will think you, if you are the right one or not.”

At this time I didn´t care about anything. Dying would have been a pleasant thing at that time. Burning like hell my body was. My eyes where shut I how deadly I wanted to open them I just couldn´t. The grip on my shoulder tighten. The voice so clear like an angel singing in my head. Word I did not understand but scared me at the same time as they were comforting me.  I remember thinking: Am I having a seizure? A epileptic one or a heart related one or both at the same time making me see and hear this strange things. My brain might have a breakdown after too many joints and too many drinks. I was going to die or become insane. Or both. The world around me did not exist anymore. There was just this glow of gray. How can  the color gray glow? Mishmash of everything into a grayish clod. And I was in the middle of it. In any case it felt like it. My eyes where shut but still I could see this around me. Like a dream. The edges was not sharp and the whole world was  a blur.

“Hold on lad, just a few seconds more and then we´ll be there. You can make it. Because if you don´t you will die lad. Make up your mind lad. Do you want to live or not?”
I knew it, this was it. I was on my last leg.  My boss would be pleased.

Then I let myself go. My soul felt light and flew like a bird into this glowing grey mishmash. So this was how it felt. To die?

“No, you little shit. You can´t get away that easy. They need you. They need you to be there guide. The hand grabbed my soul and pushed it back to my aching body. I gasped. My lungs spread out under my thorax. The pain shut thru me like a sharp annealed knife when my heart started pounding again. My back hit something soft and my eyes suddenly opened.

“Welcome to Amshir”, she said. The old woman on the bench under that chestnut tree had transformed but she still had that worn out coat.

Her green eyes, her freckled smooth face  and her red hair was the most beautiful I´ve ever seen in my life. May be I was dead after all.

utsträckta händer framför
mig, förväntansfullt;
i otakt är fötterna, slintar i
högklackat vasst, trottoaren
är blankvåt

som en spegel, som min själ, som
det som ska, som jag ska
omfamnas, skyndar nu,
känner hur ögonen lyser och
gatlyktornas sken gör

skuggorna mjuka, fuktiga
min andfådda iver, de
ceriseröda handskarna, du
bortvänd men jag känner
silhuetten vill inte låta

rädslan eller oron, vill
inte förstöra, vill vara kär,
älskad, ska bara leka, inte
såra, skada, inte du, inte
nu för det ska vara

fint, du har tänt en cig, trampar
runt, ser på klockan, mobilen, ett
moln ur din mun, den snygga
hatten i rätt vinkel, trenchcoaten, som
ur en film

svartvit, gammal, men jag är
inte Ingrid och du kan knappast
regissera och jag är bara
patetisk, så vidrigt
klumpig,

och mina klackar fortsätter, det
blir så, förlåt, men jag springer
över spegeln, isen, natten, genom
tunneln,
mot;

från; eller fri?

det är nog då som skalet
blir trångt, flagar och skrynklas
betydelselöst

och kärnan växer
stor och tung; stark
forcerar

det uppbyggda,
det omsorgsfullt skapade, alla
plattformer

rasar i striden, i
kriget; i oron
infernot

och kärnan är hotfull,
men så bar och så naken, så
allena i saknad

och det är nog då, ja
det är nog då som
tårar ska flöda

i forsar så vilda och
asfalt ska sprängas av
maskrosens hopp

(repris)

sensommarens intensiva
beröring suddar ut konturer, gör
färgerna längtande och

i allt det
gyllengula,
roströda, natthimmelsblåa och
månen, som är full; vid

min sida vandrar du och
jag hör djupa toner, vinterns stilla
allvar, jag känner din värme men
det är som jag måste sorgen som
inte finns men den kanske

anas i brasornas glödande gnistor, i
stjärnornas bleka glans, i
dofterna från den svarta myllan, i

natten din andning mot min,
smältlavan
som strålar igenom, i kaskader
av brinnande vin, floder av åtrå

och alla tårar inuti, lyckans
lätta smekning, blommor,
törnen;
midsommarnattens nakna
dröm

Läs mera av Penazzas texter på https://penazzas.wordpress.com/

Smiling as always

I had watch her for a long time at the office. Walking around in her posh clothes and her always smiling lips

So young, so careless. Archived files in alphabetical order, answered the phone smiled and giggled at the boss´s bad jokes. And bad they were.

I think the boss wanted to shag her. I could see it, how he touched her when he tought no one were watching.

That old dog! She was to young for him, but it felt as if she didn´t mind him touching her. Caressing her breasts in secret. But i saw. God knows that I saw it. Although I did not want to see. It made me sick.

I asked her out once. She just stared at me. Like I was some sort of moron or a freak. And then she just laugh at me. Bright giggling laugh that echoed in my soul.

But I couldn´t get her out of me mind. Some nights, perhaps all nights, I dreamt about her. Her body naked close to mine. Sexy and hot. Wanting me to shag her. And I did. I did, I did. Over and over.

I shagged her brains out and she loved it. In my dreams she wanted me. Screaming my name in the dark. Pressed her crotch against my hard cock. In my dreams she let me shag her how ever I wanted to.

But when I awoke I was alone and miserable as always. And my cock erected.

Every day her presence tortured me. Like she knew she was teasing me, and got an thrill out of it. She was palying an tantalizing game with my heart, soul and body.

My heart crumbled like a dry cake in an iron press when she was around. Ignored me.

I could not stand it anymore. I had to do something to make some peace to my soul.

So one night I was following her, from a safe distance. She was so beautiful. A red coat that ended at her slender calves. Her blonde silky hair tacked in a strict knot. Black purse in her lily-white hand.
She strode confidently. Her head up and her steps purposeful. She knew she was good-looking. And damn she was.

It was a late night. The stores were closed and she stopped by one of the stores window and looked at the the fancy dresses that were shown on those faceless mannequins.

The street was empty. Not a living soul around. I walked up to her. She notis me in the reflextion of the window and turned around. She had that look on her face. That patronizing look that she always gave me.

“Are you following me you pervert?” She said. Her voice soundes so callous and and fierce.

I don´t know why but I grabbed her by her troath and pressed her lips against mine.
At first she tried to get away from me. Pushing me as hard as she could. But I held her tightly against me.

After a while she felt relaxed in my arms. Her lips changed from stiff to soft. So soft they were. Her breathing calmed down. Oh my God she loved it. Finally she realized that I was the one for her. Her soft lips accepting mine, her body who felt relaxed in my arms  proved it all. She loved me. She loved ME. My heart was filled with happiness. My soul finally felt at peace and and my body ached no longer.

Then she started to feel so heavy. Her body sort of felt like jelly in my arms.

Oh my god what had I done? Her blue eyes stared at me. Not in a deprecation way but in a emty hollow way. The sparkling light was gone.  But her lips were still smiling, as if she was happy.

And may be she was happy, like me. Anyway I felt less tortured. The anxiety was gone. Just a sense of peace that spread within my body when I left her on the pavement, smiling as always.

En liten flicka vuxit upp och
blivit riktig stor
det är alldeles på riktigt sant hur
än ni alla glor

och flickan som var vän och snäll
är just så som hon är
obstinat och egensinnig,
ställer till besvär

Hon har moppat golv och
hon har bykat byk
kockat, strukit, fixat
och tagit emot stryk

nu av alltihop hon
fått så innerligen nog
att hon har släppt ut håret
och dragit ut på krog

och flickan som var avsedd
att bli en verklig dam
har blivit kärring eller tant
och hon är inte tam

Klänningen är kort och
glittrar utav strass
klackarna är höga och
tungan hennes vass

och tanten hon ger järnet,
dansar alldeles fritt
och leendet hon ger dig
är inte enbart blitt

(repris)

http://www.kapitel1.se/mia-bergenheim/i-hundarnas-timma

trolsk tropisk natt;
fyller min själ, mitt valv och som
tusen stjärnor som ska stråla

brinner glädjen i min kropp
och jag går över haven, över
broarna och jag vandrar

ut i natten där fukten väter
min hud och det sorlar ifrån
källorna, de bottenlösa brunnarna

vidare över silkesmjuk
sand, mot suget, mot lustfyllda
toner, det frestande okända,

mot dofter av kryddor,
och granbarr och skog, över
hällar och moar till ängen

den blommande, och där, ja
min älskade, där ska jag
vaggas och vyssjas; innerligt

smekas av blåklockors huvor och
vitklövers blommor, av grässtrån
så sirliga, av det fina som finns

Hör jag så dånet, det andra, i
faran, hör jag så skräcken som slår
i min kropp; den åskar och hamrar och

ser jag så slaget som kommer ur
mörkret, ser jag så hettan förvandlas
till hat och jag vaggar så

sakta över milsvida stränder och jag
tröstas av vinden; drömmen om gryning, min
längtan är kvar i min rödgråtna mun

(repris)

drawing Eric Leraillez

Uppbyggt, uppmätt
i oändliga dagar, timmar, minuter,
noggrant planerat, fullständigt
klappat och klart

Uppnådda mål med
bostäder, resor, bilar, och mera, ännu mera,
gin&tonic och möten och
mysiga stunder, levande ljus och
Rosor förstås, och

äktenskap och barn, och
Innehåll, dessutom,
kultur, karriär, mellanmänskliga relationer,
livet, ja

i sig
ingen dum idé