SG Holter: Poems

530 · Oct 2015

*

SG Holter Oct 2015

*

Skies promise.
I look up.
First
Flake.

530 · Aug 2014

A Comfort

SG Holter Aug 2014

A Comfort

Everything is
Giant to
Something

529 · Sep 2014

All my Lessons on Softness

SG Holter Sep 2014

All my Lessons on Softness

Were learned
The hard
Way.

529 · Jun 2014

Shaking the Rain From its Feathers

SG Holter Jun 2014

Shaking the Rain From its Feathers

That robin on the wire outside
Is shaking the rain from its feathers,
Drying in the warmth from Sun

Pushing dark clouds apart;
Letting us both

Breathe in the absence
Of the recent downpour.

528 · May 2014

A Part

SG Holter May 2014

A Part

Such shame
Yet
Beauty in how
Well
You see it all
Fitting together
When the
Whole
No longer
Holds,
And breaks

A pa r t.

528 · Jul 2014

I Face

SG Holter Jul 2014

I Face

Myself
Alone.

528 · Oct 2014

Brick Baby

SG Holter Oct 2014

Brick Baby

City full of buildings
I helped raise.

I stand outside one
Of my eight floor brick

Babies.
The concrete

Behind the
Walls

Of your apartment
Were the walls of my

Workplace for a
Year.

I have stories
From your home

You'll never
Hear.

Not welcome here.
Stranger.

None of my keys
Fit her

Doors anymore,
Now that

She's been
Given

Up for
Adoption.

527 · Apr 2017

Damn, that Sky is Blue

SG Holter Apr 2017

****, that Sky is Blue

Our problems may tower
Above us, peaks the size
Of hopelessness casting
Shadows as dark as
Our deepest despairs,

But the view from the
Bottom of this valley we're
In lies about the hight of
The actual mountain.
And ****, that sky is blue.

526 · Apr 2015

Zen- TV

SG Holter Apr 2015

Zen- TV

I'm no Buddhist monk;
I won't abandon much of
What 2015 has to offer.

But come commercial breaks
I rediscover the "mute"-
Button on my remote,

And snack on.
In
Silence.

It's a giant
Leap from
Not.

526 · Oct 2014

God's Honest Truth, or the Devil's

SG Holter Oct 2014

God's Honest Truth, or the Devil's

A perfect evening ended as
Its opposite.
Guess it was his fault again,
As it always was, whether
God's honest truth or the
Devil's.

Sometimes it feels like
There's a Satan's Little Helper
Carving my initials
Into every bullet in the world,
He thought, and bowed his head
Unto the sour, sour
Injustice

Of it all. No reason to hold back
The angry tears; he let a few
Hit the kitchen
Sink, so as not to stain
Anything.

526 · Sep 2014

...and the Roses

SG Holter Sep 2014

...and the Roses

Are you smelling
Me?

She laughs but
Only gently

As if not wanting
My lips and nose

Away from
Her arm

Life Herself to
Me; the pieces of

Time between the
Stopping to-

And the
Roses

523 · Oct 2014

The Poster

SG Holter Oct 2014

The Poster

Every time I look at you...*
So many poems
Begin with these words.

This is one of them.
*...I feel as if I've stolen you
From some poor fool

Who just didn't do it for you.
I don't even wish I could say
That I'm sorry.

You are my loot, some treasure
That I Indiana Jones'ed out of
A collapsing cave,

And nearly lost my hat in the
Process. An unknown piece
Of Wagner's, discovered

In a Richard Clayderman Plays
ABBA book of sheet music at a
Flea market.

You touch me the way I remember
Dreaming that woman on the
Poster on the wall of my friend's

Bedroom in '88
Would magically climb down from
Her two-dimentional pedestal

And do. "I know you," I think
Every time I look at you.
Sometimes you look at me

And confess -after I've left you
Breathless by doing and/or saying
Something so clownishly stupid

You nearly fell to the floor laughing-
That you "can't believe we've barely
Been together for months..."

I know. In so many
Ways, we
Haven't.

523 · Jun 2014

Beating

SG Holter Jun 2014

Beating

It's getting pretty dark in here.

I have no words for this void, no
Name for this emptiness,
Other than
That.

I have narrowing vision and a
Spinning head. Tears in my
Eyes, and am feeling sick.

I have not a grain of familiarity within my
Reach; I could be anyone
Anywhere.

How the Hell can a heart
Take as many beatings as
This old thing, and still

Keep beating back?
It's been broken,
Bruised and cut.

A worthy opponent
To the World.

522 · Jun 2014

Love, Lust and Laughter

SG Holter Jun 2014

Love, Lust and Laughter

We stand shoulder to shoulder
And watch the house of our
Love, Lust and Laughter
Not burning down
To the ground
After all.

522 · Sep 2014

Bitter Old Men

SG Holter Sep 2014

Bitter Old Men

It was a good bonfire
Leaving the autumn pasture

Covered in light smoke
Like some medieval campsite

Knives sheathed; leaning on our
Newly whittled staffs

We spoke of fathers; how some
Keep on living long after their souls

Leave their bodies
Leaving their wives with less laughter

And life than they deserve
If we ever become bitter old men, he

Said, directly to my eyes,
We have to... we have to cut

Our women loose, before we pull
Them down with us

The wind changed, blowing smoke
And ashes through the trees

Point it out if it happens, I replied
We shook on it

521 · Apr 2015

...but your Breeze Remembers Winter

SG Holter Apr 2015

...but your Breeze Remembers Winter

Spring Morning.
Your sun is warm, but your
Breeze remembers winter;

Your touch is that of a young
Woman who thinks she might
Be in love.

One hand mild,
One cold, and your heart
Slightly off center.

520 · Apr 2014

Word of Wisdom From my Swedish Friend Lars

SG Holter Apr 2014

Word of Wisdom From my Swedish Friend Lars

He drops the rest of his one
Daily smoke
On the cold January ground.
Puts his glove back on
And gazes at the crane,
With distant eyes under the brim
Of his orange hard hat.

Then, through one of those smiles
That make any bad day better,
He turns to me and speaks.

*Always eat the yellow snow, Sverre.
It could be beer...

519 · Jan 2015

World Peace

SG Holter Jan 2015

World Peace

It isn't rocket
Politics.

Millions of children crying
While the adults of the world

Struggle unsuccessfully to
Push a square peg through

A square
Hole.

517 · May 2014

God in Man

SG Holter May 2014

God in Man

You lean over me,
Reaching for some product
That makes you either

Taste, feel, look or smell like
Things hanging from
Trees in warm countries, or

Nails pink, black or back to
Natural. Upper arm so
Close to my face

I can't resist
Leaning into it;
Mouth and eyelid

First. You shift in
Confirmation. I feel and
Smell; find myself

More than six feet under
This divine concept
Of Woman. Girl. Other

Half. God in Man.
Buried and blissful.
Breathing with ease in

The sweet soil that
Covers
Me.

516 · Sep 2014

Pool of Jewels

SG Holter Sep 2014

Pool of Jewels

To H.

I suppose there's no such
Thing as true love,
As they say,

So let's keep lying to each
Others' faces until we both
Believe it's

Something*. Who needs
Anything to be more,
After all?

Learning your do's and don'ts.
Your paces, your secrets,
Enjoying the journey

From no one to someone
As you break my ego's heart
With pints of gold, and silver

Bullets like: "You're not that
Great a kisser,
You know,"

And I shrug as if believing
You, emptying my pockets from
Gems and dropping them into

The water, where they're as safe
As anything precious is, when
Out of my reach.

516 · Mar 2017

Of Hours and Days

SG Holter Mar 2017

Of Hours and Days

"I'd rather have you for
Two hours today than four
On Friday," she sighs with the
Immediate result of my
Wednesday afternoon plans
Jumping
Down the drain
Of their own accord, laughing.

515 · May 2014

Gently in Grace

SG Holter May 2014

Gently in Grace

A strand of your hair
On the table.

I pick it up gently
In grace; gently in love still,

And place it in the bin.
If ever we end,

Let us end it
Like that.

515 · Apr 2014

Point of Spear

SG Holter Apr 2014

Point of Spear

You are the tip of the arrow;
The point of spear
Flung across 13,8 billion years of

Growth and swirling
Relief in death.
Painful birth.
Lives ended, begun and not,

That rests for now
In the chest
Of Present.

Be proud, little one.
All that is is in your honour.

514 · Jun 2015

Daughterhearts

SG Holter Jun 2015

Daughterhearts

Colder inside this house
Than in the evening sun outside.
I suppose old buildings
Breathe, like all
Living things do.

Aloneness. Never lonely.
Why was I meant for
Solitude? The despair it
Provokes within those who
Wish to

Connect is as much my
Burden as theirs.
To belong to and own.
Spacelessness. Sharing
My whole self. No.

I wish them more warmth
Than anyone will ever find
With me,
Yet I hear the voices
Of mothers shielding

Daughterhearts with double
Edged shields;
Don't be afraid
Child. It's only the
Devil.

I suppose all I'll
Ever need is another odd
Soul like mine, waving from
Inside another freezing, distant
Dwelling.

My hands are winters.
My chest is a cave so cold
My tears well up
Like mounds of
Snowflakes, and fly.

Having tempered myself beyond
My limits, I withdraw to default;
The arctic within; home. Your
Fire is blinding. I only have
Ice for you.

514 · Jul 2014

The Will of the World

SG Holter Jul 2014

The Will of the World

I have yet to stop a lightning bolt
With much success.
Where there's a will, there is
Always the risk of
Disembodiment.

So human. So confident.
*Mine is the will of the world.
Mine are the odds
Of gods.

514 · Mar 2015

Afterlife

SG Holter Mar 2015

Afterlife

Who cares if the sun will
Rise again

Night has its charm
It hides

Covers
Soothes

Fear not Lady Death's slender hand
Upon yours

I've been unalive before
Do not worry;

There's
Nothing

There
But Her

513 · Aug 2015

Crystal Ball Warning (to the Heart)

SG Holter Aug 2015

Crystal Ball Warning (to the Heart)

I see tears before me.
Raindrops on a
Window.
Flowers
Drowning.

511 · Apr 2014

Warm With Summer

SG Holter Apr 2014

Warm With Summer

She crawls towards me on sheets
Straight from cloath line
|Carrying a hint of the outside
In.|
Her eyes- two little storms of
Pure woman, self-respect and a firm knowing
That she is as beatiful as
Anything else mortal.
Warm with summer, slightly chilled from the breeze through
Dancing curtains-
Drowzy from sleep and wanting to wake with a
Thank You all over her being,

It's not what it looks like.
|It's not love, it's a very intense embrace|
That reaches through us both

And on into the Infinite Forevers.
Names whispered and toes curled in Utmost Ritual,

As an origo of heaven and ground.
This is how we say Grace.

This is how we thank.

510 · Apr 2014

Tempur

SG Holter Apr 2014

Tempur

Her still warm
Imprint on the bed
Body and
Wings

Feathers on whole
Pillows

I wake up in Heaven
Alive.

509 · Sep 2014

Images and Words

SG Holter Sep 2014

Images and Words

I suppose you had me at "heeeey!",
But I'm still bouncing down the
Staircase of my own heart,
One step at the time.

Your language is that of images.
Graphics. Oil on canvas. Interior
Design. Always knowing where
Something sits or hangs the most

Pleasing to the eye. I lean back with
Ink and infatuation, under only
Just enough light to write without
Being seen too clearly by keen eyes.

Two superheroes fighting the good
Fight. Saving days. Superpowered.
Telling the world how beautiful it is;
Mothering lovers loving like this.

If I run out of words, draw me another.
When your colours dry out, I will write
You of sunsets and stories,
Images and words go as hand in

Hand as our souls have since all eyes
Turned to the door through which
You floated, back straight, head
High, dotting the i

Of your beauty with a smile like a
Slap in the face of my well rehearsed
Image of 'calm and collected.'
Breaking the ice into crystals

With one
Single
Word.
"Heeeey!"

508 · Jul 2014

These are not Broken Bones

SG Holter Jul 2014

These are not Broken Bones

These are not broken bones.
They are bruises at most, from
A teacher's cane.
It's cool, I'm learning at
The best of schools; Life.
It's not built by wood or stone.
These are not broken bones.

These are not broken homes.
They are children freed from
Angry voices.
We're only flesh, blood; hearts
Grow apart. Grow better on
Their own.
These are not broken homes.

These are not broken lives.
They are journeys; adventures,
Drama; breath.
These lives are not broken, there's
Only dirt on those knees; no blood.
This is not Hell, this is Life, this is
School, this is your tale to tell.

Those are not scars, they are lines
On a map.
Those are you feet moving steadily;
Trust them to carry your weight.
You may travel as one, but you're
Never alone.
And those are not broken bones.

508 · Feb 2015

Her Infatuation

SG Holter Feb 2015

Her Infatuation

Eyes, eyes, starry skies.
Look at me in that
Dreaming way again, girl.

Draw me
Northern
Lights.

I'll dance with them
Around your every gorgeous
Galaxy.

507 · Jul 2014

Sunday Afternoon. Many Ago

SG Holter Jul 2014

Sunday Afternoon. Many Ago

I want to put my palms
Under that sweater of mine
You're wearing

Confirming that it's
All you have
On

507 · Aug 2015

Slivers of Silver

SG Holter Aug 2015

Slivers of Silver

Eyes see what the
Heart allows.
I love you, and hand
You slivers of silver.
You curse me for
My needles.

506 · Dec 2014

...at all the Whiteness

SG Holter Dec 2014

...at all the Whiteness

All she wanted was a new job.
A good man.
A white Christmas.

By her laptop, spinning out
The last designs of the year,
While I make her breakfast,

She looks out of her
Window, and
Smiles.

504 · Apr 2014

...doesn't kill you

SG Holter Apr 2014

...doesn't **** you

I can take as much pain
As my shadow.
Its impact's the same on us
Both.
We suffer in equal
Silence.
All you'll hear is the sound of our
Growth.

504 · Sep 2014

First Time Alone in her Apartment

SG Holter Sep 2014

First Time Alone in her Apartment

Her first day at the new job.
Lead Graphic Designer, Norway.
I'm as proud as her parents.
She's a goddess at work.

I walk past the white church
And up the hill. Kindergarten
Sounds. The key she gave me
Fits. Why wouldn't it?

I arrive before her.
Barely anything here is mine.
Yesterday's red wine stains
On the glass table

Remind me of something
She did that made me laugh
So hard that Portuguese
Stuff almost came out of my

Nose. She cracks me up.
Cracks me open like a can of
Tuborg and helps herself to
Mouthfuls of my infatuation.

I am in awe, I catch myself
Thinking as I rest my bag on
Her sofa and join it.
Silence but for the shy humming

Of the fridge. She has a thing for
Freshness; every room smells clean.
The scent of fabric softener on
Her bed mixes beautifully

With that of her skin. I noticed it
The first time we hugged.
The first time we met.
First date,

Not even a month ago.
Moving fast; we've agreed that
We're too old to not let ourselves
Get carried away.

Too much to lose, to lose.
First time alone in her apartment.
I'm not a guest here,
No stranger to these walls.

In good old fashioned love, but
More. Just as anyone in any kind
Of love feels theirs is.
I try not to wait for the sound of

Heels up the outside stairs, but I am
Too happy not to, and for now I'm
Just relieved; the key she gave me
Fits. Why wouldn't it?

504 · Aug 2015

Braille

SG Holter Aug 2015

Braille

She gets subtle
Freckles on the bridge of
Her nose
If the
Summer is a
Sunny one.

504 · Apr 2014

Be Never Insulted Again

SG Holter Apr 2014

Be Never Insulted Again

Catch every word flung in your direction
As if spoken with the purest, kindest of intents.
You'd be surprised how often
They are.
Take rocks for roses, no matter how
Cold to the first touch.

Learn from river hit by boulder or feather.
I have room for both.
Float along or rest.

No thing thrown in anger hurts me.
I will not complain nor
Thank. I am a river; I
Run to nothing
From nothing.

No one single misunderstanding arises
Where man so rarely roams.

503 · Apr 2014

.308

SG Holter Apr 2014

.308

I was eight the first time I got shot at.
If they had hit my leg like they tried, they'd have
Gotten my dad where it hurt the most,
As they promised.

An eight year old has no chance of explaining
Where a shot sounded like it came from.
No help to the officers.
An eight year old has no chance of keeping quiet
About the incident, so his mother won't cry.
No help to his father.
No shell. No projectile. No evidence. No protection.

I'll never grasp the courage it took them both
To let me out of the door every morning.
This was rural Norway. Nothing bad ever happened to anyone.
That's what
They'd think in the city; that the "jungle" was there.
It never was.
I wish my then young parents hadn't had to learn that.

I make a point of only nurishing nice memories when I'm with them.
(Only the fun shooting is referred to.)
And sometimes -when I remember-
I make a point of not limping.

I think they notice.

Every time.

501 · Nov 2014

I stand for our love

SG Holter Nov 2014

I stand for our love

I believe in the things between
senses.
unseen, unheard, un-so-on
and so forth.
both feet firmly planted in
thin air.
I stand for our love.

I imagine castles with our names
on them.
countries to our honour.
hearts and initials on
every living tree on Earth.
like some teenage girl I
picture a wedding on the coast.
priestless ceremony
where the god in all things
holds the only blessing
we need.
before Her I stand
for our love.

before friends and enemies.
before poets and politicians.
parents, siblings, teachers.
before my head and heart,
toe to toe with common
sense and pessimistic
realism.
("this world will **** what we
have; strangle us with the
piano string of everyday
stresses and sorrows."
"no.")

I think of eternities.
lifetimes of souls.
I take you on for
forever.

I stand for our love.
I have never washed my
hands after handling something
holy. I would never write like
this, and be lying.
I have never tried
to hide a
tattoo.

500 · Mar 2015

Home

SG Holter Mar 2015

Home

There's not much out here.*
I only invite people who
Say just that

With a slight
Gasp of
Relief.

498 · Sep 2014

Oslo, 4.30 am

SG Holter Sep 2014

Oslo, 4.30 am

I love the city this time on a weekday,*
She says, looking around at the
Empty shadows between orange
Streetlights.

Her first business trip, only
Stockholm this time.
London later.
I carry her suitcase.

After kisses and goodbyes,
I head back to
Her empty place.
Could catch a few hours of

Sleep, but I know I won't.
That bed needs her in
It, to be justified as one.
I'll write instead.

I never feel as
Alone as I am,
When
I do.

498 · Jul 2014

Virtue

SG Holter Jul 2014

Virtue

Lyrics to a song I wrote in 2001*

So this is you. My perfect saviour.
I'd let you save me, if you were to.

So this is you. You take your place beside me.
And put your face upon
Virtue.

To see it through. To break another curfew.
To find your way into
Virtue, could it hurt you?

So take my hands, and tie your own around them.
Like cuffs of skin and bone.
Turn us in and go to prison with me.
Break out alone.
...And bury me in virtue.

He came to you. He put his hands on you, and
He gave his word not to disturb you.

I gave to you a mask of innocence.
He took it off; undid our
Virtue.

So this is you. My covered ears have heard you.
I don't blame you for his hands upon your
Virtue. Did he hurt you?

So take my hands, and tie your own around them.
Like cuffs of skin and bone.
Turn us in and go to prison with me.
Break out alone.
...And bury me in virtue.

Banak Air Base, 2001.

497 · Aug 2014

My

SG Holter Aug 2014

My

I cannot help how I feel...*
Yes, you can.

That's why they're called
Your feelings.

Trust me, I know it's not
Easy to tell your heart

Who's boss. Like all other
Things, it takes practice.

Practice, will and dicipline.
Growth; the most human of

Human movements; always
Being between.

Let your heart cry. Cry itself
Dry, then beat on.

Lighter. Stronger. Grown.
I'll never touch your face

Again, I sigh to a photo. Then
Burn it. This is dawn;

Nothing to see in the
Dark night now behind.

There will be other faces.
These are my hands.

496 · Oct 2014

I cannot Stop Smelling her Hair, Dammit

SG Holter Oct 2014

I cannot Stop Smelling her Hair, ******

What? A poem that's
Not about me?*
She says with a smile in her eye.

There are bigger things than
Us in the world.
Can't all be about you, I lie.

She leans over, her head
On my arm.
And ocean of crow 'gainst my face.

I turn and inhale like a
Man fresh from jail; an
Astronaut homecome from space.

I love how the wind can
Smell of the snow
That yet isn't flakes in the air.

But ******, I never was hooked
In this way; I cannot stop
Smelling her hair.

495 · Jan 2015

Rock of Cain

SG Holter Jan 2015

Rock of Cain

Own blood drawn. Self-
Shelving branch sawn.

Blade or stone,
Blood of brother.

Will Time see times
Without the tears of

A wailing
Mother? Free from

One hand stabbing
The other?

495 · Sep 2016

I Don't Want to Love, Right Now pt. II

SG Holter Sep 2016

I Don't Want to Love, Right Now pt. II

I want to love
Right now.

Open up the refrigerator door of my
Heart and leave it open.

494 · Apr 2014

Light Whys

SG Holter Apr 2014

Light Whys

News off. Music on. All is perfect in my world.
I only use papers as kindling these nights.
Far from "because I don't care",

I just stopped so suddenly one day, having
Noticed how I barely hear myself
Asking why to it all anymore.

I'd yell at the Prime Minister, I'd curse at CNN,
I'd turn it on to hear explosions in Bagdhad
And Syrian children crying for dead parents

In the background, while doing the dishes.
Why? No clenched fist of mine could reach across
And unfold, full of peace, compassion and disarmament.

Show me good news! I know they don't get the ratings,
Sell the papers or the next advertised product, but they
Happen in equal amount to the horrors.

It's a beautiful world as well. Where my loved ones remain
Unshot, uncut, unbombed, unharmed. Safe and even smiling.
That is truth. That is real. That is here.

Anything else is a lie.
That is why.

Second draft, slight adjustment. Thank you, Billy D.

491 · May 2014

Gift Horse

SG Holter May 2014

Gift Horse

Looking at our photos.
What does she see in me?

Then I remember: Don't put
Your gift in a horse's mouth.

It'll only chew it
To pieces.