"hygge" poems
forpustet eksistens, forkrampet hygge, udmattende omtanke, tung luft
akavet venskabelighed, fortumlet interaktion
ligger og skrumler rundt i mig selv lige pt, du ved
skriver digte der dernæst glemmes
'ved ærligt talt ikke, hvad der fremkaldte eller inspirerede dette'
føler mig som én den ene dag og en helt anden den næste
hvem er jeg overfor dig? tilbageblikkets endegyldige tvivl og
hjernens omdrejninger
smilende øjeblik,
derefter melankolsk
du fremvækker en mærkelig, blandet følelse
hvordan kan man mærke, hvorvidt øjeblikket er essentielt? kan hjernen
filtrere al støjen væk ?
tanken om, at alle disse mennesker en skønne dag
vil glemme mig.
glædelig fødselsdag!
farvel!
hvem er jeg uden dig
velkommen tilbage, fremmed følelse
velkendt person
farvel
Oct 24, 2015
Oct 24, 2015 at 6:22 PM UTC
The metro station caged the slumbering metropolis
From this dingy mid-March town fridged in January wind
A ******** clad explorer marches in mellow strides
All the way to you
To back the lover's whisper spoken by static selfies
With fleshy whiffs, a borrowed jacket and a gawky face
Blind to but maybe fiddly pepples on the ground.
Down at a backstreet diner, its locked out doorstep,
A hygge cover made for two,
Humming low is the city's nocturnal remains' dubstep
Coming from an illuminating exit,
Luring the busy hands and buckled excitement, whereto ----
Whereto the vacant main street glides them
With the at ease traffic,
Down loops of everextending branches
I followed you
To the roundabout between
two surrounding glassware towers
Where gleaming sparks ***** on each other's windows
Divining themselves by lighting up pavements, entrance signs
and glooming heavens.
Corridors, lawned with clutters from refurbishments,
Lead to glassrooms of suspended business meetings,
And that cozy cavern,
Where you flump into a swivel chair.
Your inhibited expression unwinds
As my curious caress explores
The damp torso slumping deeper into the pliable seat.
And a devoted twitch of ecstasy, blossom unexpectedly
On your face,
Which already shied itself away from its audience,
Doubtlessly, for way too many times ----
A candid sight I could only cache from you,
Because I intend to see it again, your effortless reaction.
The sarcoma-like lump left uncut at the bottom,
Wrinkled like wind waves in a Ukiyo-e drawing.
I scoop the saline ripple, so you can taste it beforehand.
Our bodies started gravitating
onto each other or all over the place.
And lips, they startlingly perched,
out of wills, like magnets
For the very first time.
I've been feeling patient.
And I love taking my time with you
Nov 29, 2018
Nov 29, 2018 at 1:13 AM UTC
ironically, love has ofttimes robbed me of my sanity & my peace of mind. my being.. destroyed by the time in which i’ve endowed in those i came to love. those whom requisitioned to love me in a way that would make forever seem reasonable..
and i find myself conflicting with people like myself, people that are looking for the same things that i myself are: soul intelligence, brilliance, killig, and a love that loves equally in return.
and when im away from him & his 'love', i feel homesick.. homesick for a place that doesnt even exist.
i sometimes question myself, i ask myself will i ever be able to experience hygge.
& sometimes i want to apologize to him.. for loving him so much, for being so passionate about caring for him in ways that he could never imagine, for trying to hold onto him when he obviously didnt want me in his life. all he wants is to be set free, but i dont think that i will ever be able to completely let go.. & i know he'll probably be happy without me & heaven knows that happy is all i want him to be. but when i love someone this much, a piece of my ego is with them.. if i let you go then you'll have to take a piece of my pneuma & quite frankly, im on my last piece. i am dying for your love & i am willing to face mortality.
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 6:30 PM UTC
I feel at peace when I’m with you
I look forward to the future
Where I can be next to you
Maybe just see your face
All the beautiful parts
That make you, you
And there, everything would be right
There, everything would make sense to me
And maybe, just maybe
That’s a good enough reason to try.
Aug 13, 2021
Aug 13, 2021 at 8:44 PM UTC
Nauseating persiflage pontification
by aeolists with hollow minds,
it's a zugzwang situation,
so stuck among the prolix.
Panglossians in one ear
pessimists in the other,
a hiraeth longing for hygge,
yet stuck in the social mire.
Nonneutonian fluid vacuum,
imminent immersion of initiatives,
halting inundation of discerning,
heading toward a humming flat line.
Suddenly I adimpleate, with joy,
an archetypal suggestion floats in the air,
I excuse myself from the aretalogers,
and hunt the primordial source.
With legwork and inquest,
here and there on the scene,
I am defeated, misfortune,
alas, absorbed back into the quagmire.
Aug 15, 2017
Aug 15, 2017 at 11:23 AM UTC