Zaporizjzja strömlöst

En dikt jag skrev till nyheterna 4 november 2022. Och publicerade samma dag på poeter.se. Influerad av C S Lewis Voltaire och i icke ringa grad av Hjalmar Gullbergs dikt Död amazon. Håll till godo!

Bygger på C S Lewis essä On Living in an Atomic Age (1948), Voltaire samt morgonens nyheter.


Zaporizjzja strömlöst
Lev som om ditt liv hade mening
Vi måste odla vår trädgård
Dieseln till generatorerna räcker femton dagar
Nedräkningen har börjat

Du och alla du älskar
har alltid varit dömda att dö
Detta gör ingen skillnad

Men ändå

Kan inget göra
annat än vad jag skulle vilja
om mitt liv skulle fortsätta
femtio år till
Så ta ett glas vin ikväll
håll varandras händer
en bön för Ukraina
och allt som är gott

English poetry reading

I tried my hand at reading three new poems, that I’ve written over the last year, at The English Bookshop in Gothenburg last Friday evening. My teacher Linda Ghaderi at Linneaus University invited her students and others to open mike night. Also reading some poems, besides Linda Ghaderi and myself, was poet Tom Madeley. I’m publishing one of the poems here. Enjoy!

Measured

This is how much space I take up in this world

On the outside: 178 centimetres

Overweight in any kind of units

Hair’s a mess, can’t seem to make an appointment

Let’s not mention the scars.

 

I can’t grasp my voice. Still I’m singing

As if my life hung in the balance

With the gravitas of some untold hymn

The cathedral reverberates with my croaks.

 

This is how much space I take up in this world

I have three weekly sessions

Apart from that, I am trying

For another version of my best.

Finding my footing

Searching for laurels to rest on

In these uncomfortable times.

 

This is how much space I take up in this world

I’m forty-seven years old

Trying out oestrogen patches

Too late to regret

Not having kids.

Instead I grow coarse black hairs

On my shins

Where there used to be

Few, light, far-between downs

Easy to remove.

 

 

This is how much space I take up in this world

I have the humongous boobs of my forebears

They sure suited my grandma better

I accepted them on my mother, too

Though I always thought they should get better bras.

Now my breasts weigh me down

With the gravitas of unwanted glances

Of how do I look in this dress/shirt/blouse

Do I look like I’m begging for it

‘Cause I’m sure as hell not

Just trying to get home in peace/in one piece

To the place where I feel close to safe

Where I might lock the door behind me

And offend noone.

Normstorm

Make creativity your talent

Jenny Enochsson

Skrivarblogg

Tistelblomma

Litterär sajt

Anna Gable

Skrivtjänster – Språkkonsult – Författare

Agnes Hillert

skriver, ger textrespons och leder workshops

Tootsie Of Sweden

A swedish storyteller with a love for photography. Taking a train trip through Europe august 2019.

Så du tror du är författare

En skribents vardag av och med Päivi Karabetian

RomComDojo

Just for a laugh

Hallvi reads

an escapist's book adventures

Petronellas Författarliv

Drömmar är inte omöjliga, bara arbetsintensiva.

Åsa Öhnell - barnboksförfattare

Spänning och feelgood!