The Sun is a jealous lover
That yearns for the wandering Moon.
He give his softer light to her
And easily assumes

That she will chase him everywhere
Throughout the starry sky,
Obediently follow this linear path,
Until the day she dies.

The Moon however, loves the Earth
The gentle shady sphere,
Who pulls her close and cradles her
And whispers in her ear.

Earth and Moon are destined hearts
That dance on through the night
Until the Sun returns again
And hides the Moon from sight.

By day she fades into the Sun
And seemingly stays the path
Until the sacred night returns
And reunites them at last.

There’s too much inside me that I don’t want in me anymore

And every time you raise your voice or I think about this summer the back of my throat starts to burn and I clench my teeth so hard they have cracked. And that’s why I’ve been to the dentist 5 times this year and my jaw is out of alignment.

Breaking your arm is a little more evident than re-shattering your self-esteem everyday but if you look at a person long enough you can see the pools fill up beneath their eyes only to quickly evaporate. You’ll eventually recognize how well they contain those currents.

She went into hospital yesterday I got the bad news today
My dear sister Jackie this lunch time passed away

All her working life in a hospital doing good for all
But now shes gone to that other place as all of us must do

RIP Jackie 1951-2014

What can we tell of this eloquent man
Of the way the words flow from his magic pen
He writes of history, of legend and myth
Stories of family, of kin and of kith
Tales of the fields,  the forest, of sea
He pens the words  that we all love to read

Sverre never stop writing

Tools heavy in hands weak from
Weekend's fill of laughter,
Beer and barbeque.

Sun in eyes narrow from
Sleep. Traffic in ears spoiled
With countryside serenity.

Not even eight am, and I'm
Bleeding from open joints on fingers
That left their gloves somewhere

Clever on Friday. Drops of myself
Form little red rings in the chemical
Rainbows of puddle beneath.

It is my passion; not my job
To play with words in the ways of
Poet. To drop a few lines instead.

I am a man of heavy duty action, the
Kind that jackhammers concrete to
Dust, a thousand demolishing words.

My work is so far from poetry that
I should get changed in the phone
Booth outside the barracks, but

For now my mind is as narrow,
My imagination as shallow as this
Hole that I'm paid to dig.

Samuel walked up to his boss
and demanded in no uncertain terms:
"You'd best give me a pay rise -
you might want to know
3 companies are after me"

"Wow," said Samuel's boss
deeply impressed. "Which companies?"

"Oh," came Samuel's swift reply
*"The telephone,  electricity
and water companies"

You've put the sun at your back
To meet it rising on the other side of the ocean

I watch it sink and I am envious
For it will see your face
When the world turns over in its sleep

And all I will see
Is a cold pillow
And empty sheets

I want to
get tangled
in between
every fibre
of your being

*AA