At night, in sleep, on a sheet
Hiding, beyond the dark
In a row, huge like a fleet,
carved, deep in the barque
Chimaeras sleep at night
Real ghosts aren’t dead
At day, they have a fight,
mostly here, in my head
© Björn Blomqvist 2022-06-12
At night, in sleep, on a sheet
Hiding, beyond the dark
In a row, huge like a fleet,
carved, deep in the barque
Chimaeras sleep at night
Real ghosts aren’t dead
At day, they have a fight,
mostly here, in my head
© Björn Blomqvist 2022-06-12
In the mood as a disaster
Lies my will on the floor
Untouched among cats
Miles from the outer door
Alone in the rocking chair
Rests my lust under the rails
Sanded to gravel of stone
When worries cuts the nails
© Björn Blomqvist 2022-03-14
In this place,
on this earth,
there is a meaning,
at least mine
I try to explore my
inner with tools
I don’t have or
which one to use
What’s in my toolbox?
To trust my choices
and opportunities,
places the horizon
ever further away
I can’t see it but
I can feel it when
I’m resting my brain
on my invisible pillow
© Björn Blomqvist 2022-02-22
Small fragments of a light wind blowing away, fast
of a slow storm,
full of anxiety.
A hurricane spins
around as a typhoon
in my head until
I fall like the
house of cards.
I lie flat on
the ground until
it sinks away,
lower and lower,
and I with it…
©️ Björn Blomqvist 2022-01-01
What if, What if
The voice in my head
Unwanted, out of control
I sink, I sink
I’m don’t act, I react
What if, What if
It lives in my head
Often, out of reach
I fall, I fall
Down, often down
©️ Björn Blomqvist 2021-12-27
Barrels full of tears in a sad patrol, rest to store fears in rows, surrounded by it’s enemies in oak uniforms. Red wine in the color of spilled blood, survived the battle between the grief and the grapes. In frontline with shields, thin like the shells of the grapes, a bloodline is the line behind the enemy. The infantry still standing on the feet of the wine glasses, ready to fight for what they crying for. Deep down in a wine cellar, far from the sunlight, lies a grief, alone and missed by the survivors who refusing to leave them for the next harvest.
© Björn Blomqvist 2021-12-15
Step by step on a forgiving road,
a walk alone
Heavy rain falls from the fog,
a day to remember
Going back for a moment,
a memory on a stone
Lights in the night on a shining mind,
a day in november
Tone after tone of a surviving song,
a mystery voice
Heavy clouds push me down,
an emotional fight
Climbs up through the haze,
haven’t a choice
Strength in the body on a rising soul,
to catch what’s right
© Björn Blomqvist 2021-12-12
Be the way,
easily walked
inside my heart
Be the song,
beautifully sung
outside my soul
Be the melody,
softly played
through my head
Be the dream,
slowly touched
on my mind
Be the words,
lovely whispered
in my ears
© Björn Blomqvist 2021-12-10
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Et in Arcadia ego