We both read our scripts,
but we're not on the same page.
You and I are just actors
who treat life as the stage.

We rehearse our lines,
but they're not what we mean,
for once lets break character
and call cut on this scene.

We could steal the show
if we rewrite the play
and end the charade
of this macabre matinee.

We've reached the finale,
there's no encore after all.
This is our shot,
our last curtain call.

Branco e bege se fundem na cortina
Feixes de luz tentam passar
despercebidos
para um mundo onde há muito
foram esquecidos
a poeira e a maneira.

Observe o movimento sutil
do tecido repetido e entretido
A transparência é genuína
mas a poeira
é contínua.

Subjetividade
O espaço tímido não se revela
Escondendo sua sequela
de quando tão ingênuo
escondia uma janela aberta.

Bem, está trancada agora.

And still you're more concerned  with who's in front of the curtain than who's behind it.
The puppets are being controlled by the puppeteers.
The strings are there, even though they're thin and clear; if you're searching for truth you'll find it.

The clocks wind down,
and soon the Earth will spin
tightly again.

How many passes do we need
to take a conscious breath?
How many paths?

The curtain lowers
before the curtain rises again.
I find myself staring at the red velvet,

the in between.

Not quite a hurricane
but a wind that still blows,
holding love aloft.
I prefer to be behind the scenes
like god,
observing the audience
through a ***** in the curtain.

I am prophecy self-fulfilled,
but I’ve been before mistaken.

Surprised to learn
that they embrace what they ****.

Night lowers its curtain of silence,
my only time to steal away, and
**** the flavour out of every
lovely rind.

It is its lime
bitterness,
mine to enjoy.
If only I could taste it.

You were known as a man of few words,

Yet you spoke of a thousand advice,

You held in all the pain,

So no one can hear your cries.


It's never my intention to argue with you,

I grew up knowing more of the ill toungue,

Been taught to detest;debate and prove myself right,

Since I was very young.


I wasn't there most of the time,

But don't mistook me for seeking freedom,

Such are not within my wish,

All that was so you can be there with them.


You left-

My dream is now broken.

Its all for the love,

That I might never have shown.


In my prayers and our memories,

Is where you stay,

Because Goodbye,

Is something I could never say.


-HIY

I have still got pain.
Its big and in vain, 
For its only pain,
It has got no body and no brain.
Its of no use ,
And from it nothing I will gain 
But it still comes like a tornado and rocks me like a hurricane .
It breaks my windows and knocks on my door
And enters swiftly, even when I don’t open them wide anymore,
And it holds me prisoner,free once but no more  ,
And it makes me write verses like they were curses once for sure,
Thats the gift that gives me  my pain .
No its never a boon,
it's alwez a bane.
A bane of my existence,not clear and quite uncertain.
I ride the waves from fountain to fountain. My pain has really no gain BT it's still bleeding,
bleeding crimson red from heart shaped curtains .
From the door to the street, it will make me keel it will make me bleed, but
Don’t love me alone, I may be insane.
But love me, love me because i come branded with my pain.

I remember my younger days
Were the ashes of fire grew higher
Crowds and streets with empty praise
If they practice truth in the mirror, they´re a liar

I remember the iron curtain
Blocking any ray of sun
When crazy mind´s were the only sane
and you could´t trust anyone

I remember childhood dreams
That died for each year that I grew
A time when ends justified the means
and what joy meant no one knew

I remember beliefs forced upon me
Until I was convinced they were my own
When being a alive was the same as being free
Feeling unsafe under the roof of my home

I remember the color red
On the ground and on the flag
I remember the tears I shed
When I lost the few good things I had

I remember being scared
To sell my soul by mistake
To become like the people I feared
and not realize until it was too late

I remember a foreign earth
Across borders, beyond the wall
Where no one decided what a life was worth
I remember waiting for the barricade to fall

I remember my younger days
Memories burned into my mind
I remember the crowds and streets of heavy praise
When the fog lifted in 1989



«Copyright Johanna Magdalena Husebye»