Friday, January 6, 2017

Storm-ballet

Urd på vej i land 
ved Bovbjerg
26.12.16










Kamete
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Sunday, January 1, 2017

SelvMod







er
selv
indsigt
med tro på 
egen sandhed  
uden hensyn til, 
om den bliver 
bekræftet 
udefra
eller 
ej






Kamete
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"ConviCourage"

is self-knowledge
with belief in own truth,
regardless of confirmation from the outside 



Saturday, December 24, 2016

Stjernedrys

Glædelig Jul til alle...




Sangen fra altet og sangen fra havet
stiger mod himlen langs lysets lian
Himmel og jord i en sang om forening
Nathimlen tindrer som guld







Kamete
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Friday, December 16, 2016

...som englenes øjne kan funkle

En brudekjole så smuk.
Perlebroderi af skønneste slags...
Verden er fuld af små undere,
og hvad kan vel bringe os mere i 
julestemning end glitter og hvidt?


















...as eyes of the angles 

A bridal-dress so pretty.
Pearlembroidery of the most beautiful kind...
The world is full of tiny wonders,
and what could bring us more into 
the happy mode of Christmas
than glitter and white?



Kamete
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Friday, December 9, 2016

Mindfrosting


Supermoon


Pich-black and gnarled
the oak is pawing
its mysterious filigree-fingers
all over the polka-dots
of the snow-sky.
Like knotty excrescences
on a sorceress
the pollarded apple-trees
threaten the peace of my mind.
The wagtail wags
- like a maestro with his baton
conducting his orchestra -
whilst pallid-red winter-rose
sings opera
to its audience.


But I´m leaving
for my winter quarters now!
Latching my inner shutters closely.

In here, I will hide.
Maybe sleep forever?
And only wake
if you
or somebody else
wakes me up
at the dawn of springtime.





Kamete
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Monday, December 5, 2016

Under-courage






Just started to live
I´m scared to fade
like a withered dandelion
in the still young summer.
My senses are alert,
yet I feel
that only the mysteries
of golden fairytales
will release the weak echoes
of creeping decay
in my youth.

Blindly I search
through the mist of human hesitation.
The glittering dawn of my morning
gives me a promise
of endless beauties
that could be reflected
in the dark pupils
of my bewildered eyes.

Only the fairyland
of my childhood
"the tiny lake amongst hawthorns"
is the home of the handsome prince
and his princess.
In my cynical reality
all absurdities are swept away.
Frustrated
I feel heavy
and tied deep down
from all my endless responsibilities.
And yet my fairy world must exist
somewhere in the green grass.

Like the unspoken words on my lips
my fantasies are hanging
shivering in the air -
indefinable as my wants.




Kamete
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Sunday, November 27, 2016

Allemandseje eksklusivt



Længe var stranden øde. Herude er stilhed eksklusiv! 
Mine fodtrin over de rullende sten sender havmåger til vejrs over høfden, og de skriger: 
  
- Hvad gør hun på VORES strand?

Men det forstyrrer ikke min sindsro. Måske fordi jeg ikke helt forstår mågesprog.

Pludselig bliver roen revet fra hinanden af ti motorsavsbier i hidsig flugt langs stranden. Dem så jeg ikke komme, hørte blot jorden gungre, og så var de forbi.

 - Hvad gør I på MIN strand? råber jeg efter dem med mit helt eget næb. 

Men de kan intet høre under hjelmene, og godt det samme... 

Intet forstyrrer dog gæssenes gækkende V-kolonnetræk højt oppe over klinterne, og snart er stranden som før.
Dagen går på hæld i purpur og blåt. 
Som brændingen, sat på repeat i cyklisk, uforstyrret balance.















Kamete
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