Wise by Mistake

Had I thought for just a moment,

I would not have been so bold,

reckless, thoughtless, childish -

all truth for comfort sold.

Had I more than fleeting moments,

seen beyond that rosy haze,

I would have reconsidered -

not gotten lost inside the maze.

Had I not become complacent,

yes, not reverted back to form,

then I would not be dwelling

on the dangers of the storm.

Alas, these sharpened glasses

only work to see the past,

my wisdom is but fleeting,

but mistakes - they seem to last.

Photography at Oscar II's Fort

Access Forbidden

As is photography and depiction

Punishable by law

Yes, the text reads just as awkwardly in Swedish.

 Once every four years the 'Secret Rooms' of Sweden are opened up to the public. This weekend was it for 2012 and I visited the 20th century stronghold Oscar II:s Fort. Built in 1907, the fort was to be the modern seat of military prowess on the western front.

The planning was somewhat off though, and after 1930 the fort stayed only marginally in use. In 1955 it was completely decommissioned and has been largely empty since that time. A few years ago parts of the fort were opened up for visitors, but only for scheduled and private viewings.

Still, the fort rests largerly in quietude; a witness to days long past. Despite its excellent location overlooking Gothenburg's archipelage, the whole site is usually closed off. As well it should be, at least as things stand right now. There are many places in which to take an unlucky tumble down razor straight walls, making one suspect that the layout itself is as much of a defense as the old machine guns and canons.

Posing on this picture is my lovely friend Karin

Despite the clear dangers of having hundreds of people jostling around on the narrow pathways and stony hills there were no accidents, as far as this writer is aware. Exploring the ruin was great fun for the whole family, no doubt. The kids, big and small, sure seemed to enjoy their stay.

When battlements have turned into playgrounds, you know you've done something right.

I really wanted those boxes, just saying.

Did I mention the rust? It was everywhere.

All in all Oscar II's Fort feels almost idyllic where it lies blasted into the rock. It's strange how a military stronghold can feel so peaceful, but it really does, like an old warrior gone to a final rest by the sea.

Let's hope more than just the Swedish forts go to a well deserved rest in the 21th century.

Long Way Back

Double-tap left, hard punch right.
Double-tap left, hard punch right.
And I keep on going.

Kick left, punch right, punch left.
Kick right, punch left, punch right.
A familiar rhythm.

I sweat like I used to,
drops flowing down.

I don't kick like I used to.
I don't punch like I used to.
Guard is forever though,
same as it ever was.

Double-tap left, hard punch right.
Can't do sun salutations anymore,
but I can do this.

Drink the Bones

Still not Halloween, but one vector illustration of a skull deserves another. Or something.

Musings on the Journey

They never ask you what you see, when you stare out the window. They never ask and you never tell, because some things are better left to the imagination of others. When the night is so dark you almost forget the stars, you stare into a flickering flame instead. And your thoughts keep on wandering, always wandering.

They never tell you to stop believing, but it's implied, in so many small and heartbreaking ways. You answer the unspoken sentiment with unspoken reassurances. It does not matter if they believe in you - someday, somehow, you will have proven yourself. Till that day you keep watching, you keep thinking, and you keep working toward your dream.

Some journeys take longer than others, but that does not mean they're not worth the fare.

I Need Coffee

Good morning. Here's a vector illustration of some coffee. Not that I drink that stuff, but this early in the am I kinda wish I did.

Have a good one!

Memento Mori

No, it's not Halloween, but when has that stopped anyone from doing Halloween illustrations? Certainly doesn't stop me showing you this bit of vector fun I came up with.

Short Good Night Poem X

Would you close your eyes

and feel the stars

sing serenades above your window?

Would you lean into

whatever comfort

is around you; the ground, the bed?

Would you let me take you

out on adventures

that do not wear and tear your heart?

Would you welcome

the end of day

had it ever the most splendid start?

We need night to redefine morning.

In the lightest slumber there is rest.

For you let your spritit

come that much closer to peace

once you lay your head down

and sleep.

A Poem on Inspiration

Some people wonder what inspires the artist to create. This is my answer.

A word brings a thought, brings a beckoning.

A sound lets a memory play with time.

A sight, which is most splendid

lures the focused mind astray.

Drifting with the summer rain,

the autumn leaf, the wind of spring,

the frozen flake remains, always within.

Without expression I would drown,

my hard won crown, would melt away.

When I close away the world outside,

the one within begins to rhyme.

Amazing people + Hungry poetry

I still get hits every day even when I haven't updated in forever. You have faith guys, I love you.
Oh, and I'm back. Here's some more poetry.

Hunger

Some say petals

taste sweet with sugar.

I carry roses in my arms.

Beneath my skin

that silky feeling

of love that lingers

pricks my charms.

Some say the hunger

will be satiated

once the petals

are on the ground.

I carry thorns

of love and loving,

braiding sugar

for my crown.

Summer Requiem

For the end of summer. Fall comes swiftly.

He found a passage

behind the lilies

to a world

so far from ours.

There he sits

and guards the flowers

as summer's lost

and turns to fall.

Of Parting Ways

To the friends we leave and those who leave us. To the people we find and those who find us.

Meeting is the sweetest sorrow,

for what we have we may lose tomorrow.

Humans have such complicated hearts -

our love is fondest when we part.

Still as this parting's drawing near

I ask you that you do not fear.

If quick we grow to be the fastest friends

it will not matter if it ends.

We'll always have the memories -

the anecdotes and stories.

Come, hurry now so we can start

our journey to the day we part.

Short Goodnight Poem IX

Another rhyming one. Reminds me of the ones I used to hear when I was a child. Enjoy and sleep tight.

Lazily gazing down,

the moon, with her crown,

laughs joyfully and free

while she's playing with the sea.

Sighing deep in slumber

the birds don't mind the thunder

just beyond the shore;

they dream of myth and lore.

Buried deep in summer grass

lies a gleaming pearl of glass.

Go to sleep and you will find

that beauty deep within your mind.

Solemn Evening Poem

This poem was inspired by a trip to the Mediterranean I took a few years ago. 'Vincero' comes from the opera song Nessun Dorma. Sometimes I ponder on war and victory, struggle and grace, and that otherwise elusive calm that comes the moments before sleep whisks you away. Goodnight everyone, sweet dreams.

I play opera

when the sun

is about to set outside.

Vincero it sings

and I think

of victory.

The last rays

give in to the night

like a sovereign

bows to another.

Gracefully.

Do we bow with grace

as we fall

from the same?

Are we with grace

as we stand

victors before the fallen?

Are we vindicated

as victors

or did the winning

make a mockery

of all?

My, but the thoughts

do take twisting turns

as darkness falls

and twilight comes

on dancing feet

that trip with gladness,

float with sadness

that invites

to sing the blues.

Short Goodnight Poem IIX

Another rhyming one. Sort of self-comfort really. Been one of those days. Enjoy.

 
The hour is late and waning yet,

the future looks blurry -nothing is set.

The day has passed, in its willful way.

The sun grows uncertain, the shadows stay.

Take comfort in knowing you tried to do good;

things will fall how they should.

Just trust in the light, you can sleep safe and tight.

There is nothing to do here tonight.

Lament of the Wizened Child

A poem on war.

Who will care for the children

when your war, when the fighting -is done?

Who will protect and deliver

when the mothers and fathers are gone?

Who ever cares about the children

when there’s call for blood in the air?

What good god would ever consider

a sacrificed child as a prayer?

Can you say that you care about innocence

while laughing at forgive and forget?

Is there not enough pity in those souls

to neglect the price of old dept?

Is there not enough room here for all of us?

Do we need so much power and space?

If you trust in your faith, let it be -warrior,

for your enemy mirrors your face.

Who will care for the children

when the last loving person is gone?

Then there will be no more children;

even your petty wars will be done.

Short Poem of the Night

Bedtime for weary souls I think. Been a hard day.
Enjoy and goodnight...

Too tired to sleep

and the fire burns.

In days to pass

much will happen, still

I wonder -

will it be worth the while?

My eyes see roads expand

and burn.

Too tired to compute.

this is heaven -

a comfy bed and a cover

for my weariness.

Short Goodnight Poem VII

It's okay to be small-

you'll grow up in a while.

It's all right to be scared,

but you don't have to worry.

I will be here, when shadows close.

I will be here, even if you don't see me.

I will be here, so you can sleep tight.

Nothing will hurt you tonight.

Short Goodnight Poem VI

Simmer down little one,

the heat is fleeting.

Take your bow,

like the sun,

as it shimmers

into night.

Let the puffs

of angels breaths

cool your sweaty brow.

Simmer down and go to sleep,

like the crimson heavens.

Short Goodnight Poem V

Flickering lights of softness,

flushed roses in a bed of down.

Troubles forgotten,

left behind.

Now we go to sleep.