Om mig

Mit billede
Oslo, Norway
Nysgjerrig. Autodidakt. Frilanser. Musiker. Skribent. Meningsfull. Byråkrat. Meg selv, på de fleste plan, med stor nysgjerrighet for livet utenfor det såkalte normale. Tilhenger av det rettferdige og samarbeid på tvers av alt. Leser og skriver der jeg har lyst. Fetisjist, hedonist, eksibisjonist, og biseksuell. Pround to be a member of FRI/LLH, Sex&Politikk, SMil Norge og Oslo BDSM! ⊙ Oslo C · steneanker@gmail.com steneanker.wordpress.com

lørdag den 27. juni 2015

Do not stand at my grave and weep



 
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there
I do not sleep
I am a thousand winds that blow
...
I am the diamond glints on snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn rain
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight
I am the soft stars that shine at night
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there
I did not die


Written by the American poet
Mary Elizabeth Frye (1932)

fredag den 26. juni 2015

Domenes sang



vi strever så med våre små du

 vi har tusen ting å tenke på du

 opp og ned i mente

 de vil ikke vente

 kos og pisk er alt de tenker på du

 banke dem du

 klokka fem du

 etterpå så krever de en klem du!



hierodoule 2013

From the first time


 
From the first time
I ever saw you
I knew you were special
I knew it was true
When thinking of you
My heart do loops
It must be love
That sent its troops
With deep-brown eyes
You look at me
An angel in disguise
Is what I see
When kissing your lips
And touching your skin
I feel exstatic
And affection within
Dreaming of your tender kiss
I sit here thinking it through
There’s no doubt my love
 
I love you
 
 
LindaLita

Hun, min venninde


Jeg har en venninne, hun er virkelig flott!!!


Hun delte sitt indre, hun er virkelig flott!!!


Jeg har en venninne, hun er kjempe flott!!!


Hun kjemper sine indre kamper, hun er virkelig flott!!!


Jeg har en venninne som viste sin svakhet.


oOo

HUN ER VIRKELIG EKTE


Hun er så flott

OoO



LindaLita

Alone


Alone

I am alone,
so very alone

I hurt,
so very bad

I am ignored,
just thrown aside

I am security,
for others to have

I am lonely,
there is no one close,
no one sees the pain

I cry,
hope is gone

I am alone,
and no one knows

by Stefani Baucom

here I am


here I am...

drunk again at 3 a.m. at the end of my 2nd bottle
of wine, I have typed from a dozen to 15 pages of
poesy
an old man
maddened for the flesh of young girls in this
dwindling twilight
liver gone
kidneys going
pancrea pooped
top-floor blood pressure
while all the fear of the wasted years
laughs between my toes
no woman will live with me
no Florence Nightingale to watch the
Johnny Carson show with
if I have a stroke I will lay here for six
days, my three cats hungrily ripping the flesh
from my elbows, wrists, head
the radio playing classical music ...
I promised myself never to write old man poems
but this one's funny, you see, excusable, be-
cause I've long gone past using myself and there's
still more left
here at 3 a.m. I am going to take this sheet from
the typer
pour another glass and
insert
make love to the fresh new whiteness
maybe get lucky
again
first for
me
later
for you.

Appears in War All The Time
©Linda Lee Bukowski - used with permission

Foolish Pride, Lost Love


Foolish Pride, Lost Love


True love is such a wonderful thing,
The whole world seems to shine, even on the cloudiest day.
A love like this makes your heart sing,
It makes you smile, it makes you glow.
A love so strong lets you feel free,
You feel on top of the world.
No one can touch you, no one can hurt you,
When you're in love with that perfect man.
The sparkle of his eyes, the warmth of his touch,
Make every part of you glad to be alive.
The mention of his name makes you smile,
A happy thought of being together makes you glow.
The people around you are envious of this love,
For they too want to know.
They want to experience such joy,
They want to embrace such passion.
They tell you it's too good to be true,
They say love like this will only hurt you.
You become defensive, you become bitter,
What do they know? They don't understand.

Then the day comes, the sky clouds over,
The birds cease to sing.
A cold wind blows through you,
A feeling of fear takes over your every thought.
You don't know why, or where this feeling came from,
All you know is it's overwhelming and frightening.
Suddenly you begin to question his intentions,
Does he really love you? Can this be real?
Were they all right to warn you?
Do you really feel what you feel?
You look in his eyes and question what is there,
Wondering if there's an ulterior motive hidden somewhere.
You start to wonder if you deserve his love,
You start to wonder if someone else could make him happier.
You find yourself pulling away,
Giving him space, yet wanting him to stay.
You think you're doing the right thing giving him freedom,
You walk away, thinking you're protecting yourself.
You don't want him to hurt you, by turning you away,
So instead you say goodbye, not realizing it's true love that YOU'VE
betrayed.

It's too late. The damage is done.
Once again, you find yourself all alone.
You blame yourself, you blame your friends.
You even blame him, cause the pain never ends.
You regret what you've done,
You want to turn back time.
You want to hold him in your arms,
And try to make that love shine.
But you've hurt him too much,
This pain he can't forgive.
He'd given you everything,
But trust you could not give.
He'd done nothing wrong,
Only loved you completely.
But your fear of rejection,
Has left you lonely.
There was no reason for this to happen,
The love was true.
So here you sit,
Not knowing what to do.

Do you call him? Do you beg?
Do you apologize for the mistakes that you've made?
Do you tell him you're sorry,
You'll never do it again?
Do you ask for his forgiveness,
Only to be hurt again?
Do you deserve his mercy,
After the damage you have done?
Do you run to him crying,
Would this do any good?
Have your mistakes ruined everything,
Is there a way to repair?
Is it too late my darling?
Do you still care?
Is it too late my darling?
Is some love still there?
Is it too late my darling?
Have I hurt you too much?
Is it too late my darling?
Will I ever feel your touch?


by Trudy Starling

a smile to remember


a smile to remember



we had goldfish and they circled around and around

 in the bowl on the table near the heavy drapes

 covering the picture window and

 my mother, always smiling, wanting us all

 to be happy, told me, "be happy Henry!"


 and she was right: it's better to be happy if you can

 but my father continued to beat her and me several times a week

 while raging inside his 6-foot-two frame because he couldn't

 understand what was attacking him from within.

  my mother, poor fish,

 wanting to be happy, beaten two or three times a

 week, telling me to be happy: "Henry, smile!

 why don't you ever smile?"

and then she would smile, to show me how, and it was the

 saddest smile I ever saw

one day the goldfish died, all five of them,

 they floated on the water, on their sides, their

 eyes still open,

 and when my father got home he threw them to the cat

 there on the kitchen floor and we watched as my mother

 smiled

Appears (in an edited form) in The Night Torn Mad With Footsteps
©Linda Lee Bukowski - used with permission

The Pride That Comes After


It knows it all, it knows it all,
The world of groans and laughter,
It sneers of pride before a fall,
But the bitter pride comes after:
So leave me and I’ll seek you not,
So seek me and you’ll find me—
But till I know your hand-grip’s true
I’ll stand with hands behind me.

It knows it all, it knows it all,
The world of lies and sorrow—
It prates of pride before a fall,
And of the humble morrow;
But shame and blame are but a name,
Oh, heart that’s hurt past curing!
We’ll drink to-night the sinner’s pride,
The pride that’s most enduring.

They know it all, they know it all,
The curs that pass the sentence.
They preach of pride before a fall
And bitter black repentance:
So leave me when my star is set,
I’ll glory that you leave me,
While one has pride to love me yet
There’s nought on earth shall grieve me.

Bluebird


there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he's
in there.

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be
sad.
then I put him back,
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do
you?

torsdag den 25. juni 2015

”Mon P’tit pithon”


”Mon P’tit pithon”

Usandsynlig rød farve
i vandkanten
af vinen
tegneserieagtige konturer
optegnede linjer, hårdt
konstruerede
en Chesterfield
der præsenterer sig selv
som ståsted for observation
såvel som
gennemstrømning
af krop, et usvovlet
livsfragment
noteres, ikke uden
at sætte spor

Poul Pilgaard Johnsen 2014

onsdag den 24. juni 2015

Jordens stillhet


Jorden kan du inte göra om.
Stilla din häftiga själ.

Endast en sak kan du göra,
en annan människa väl.

Men detta är redan så mycket,
att själva stjärnorna ler.

En hungrande människa
mindre betyder en broder mer.
 
Stig Dagerman

tirsdag den 23. juni 2015

¸¸.¨`».¸¸.¨`».¸¸.¨`».¸¸.¨`».¸¸


¸¸.¨`».¸¸.¨`».¸¸.¨`».¸¸.¨`».¸¸


My submission is a gift that I do not give lightly,
and can only be given to one who can appreciate
that gift and return it tenfold.

Only to he who has that strength

will I give myself fully,
because I am strong and proud.

I am a submissive woman.



 ~~Author Unknown~~

...love...


I stopped

thinking about

beauty

when

I saw

love between

blind couple

Betraktaren


Betraktaren

Jag är här, för att betrakta.

Tar inte längre del av det som ses.

Tillhöra, tillhörighet.

Inget för en som mig.

Jag är en betraktare,

utan delaktighet i er helhet
 

- Anonym








søndag den 21. juni 2015

Submission


***
There is a sweet Black to it all..

 The heavy hand.. the gentle sweep of

 flesh to flesh..

 I open myself to Him…

Heart.. Mind.. Soul..

 And He buries Himself well..

 His Mastery is the Tone..

 The Look..

 The Touch..

With Him.. I can be myself..

 I can give with all my heart..

 I can be vulnerable and innocent..

 I can be freed of Control

In His palm… I can place my life.

 I belong to Him.

 I am the clay

 He the molder..

 I bend to His will

 and He….

Will never break the fragile Gift of my submission

***


hoppe

fredag den 19. juni 2015

Morgentanker


"Når jeg tenker

hvor myk du er

om morgenen

blir jeg hard

og vil ta deg"


Hyndla

"Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?"


 "Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?"

 
As I was walking down the street one day
A man came up to me and asked me what the time was that was
on my watch, yeah
And I said
Does anybody really know what time it is
I don't
Does anybody really care
care
If so I can't imagine why
about time
We've all got time enough to cry
Oh no, no
And I was walking down the street one day
A pretty lady looked at me and said her diamond watch had
stopped cold dead
And I said
Does anybody really know what time it is
I don't
Does anybody really care
care
If so I can't imagine why
about time
We've all got time enough to cry
Oh no, no
And I was walking down the street one day
Being pushed and shoved by people trying to beat the clock,
oh, so I just don't know,
I just don't know
And I said, yes I said
Background Vocal:
People runnin' everywhere
Don't know the way to go
Don't know where I am
Can't see past the next step
Don't have to think past the last mile
Have no time to look around
Just run around, run around and think why
Does anybody really know what time it is
I don't
Does anybody really care
care
If so I can't imagine why
about time
We've all got time enough to die
Oh no, no
 
 


...søvnløs...


nok en gang
står solen opp
uten at jeg
har fått søvn
i kroppen

Kj...-Ærlighet


                
Kjærlighet består av ti bokstaver;
åtte av de er Ærlighet.

Stjernens drøm


Ræk højt, for stjernerne ligger gemt i dig.
Drøm dybt, for hver drøm går forud for målet.

Kvinden

søndag den 14. juni 2015

Dødsriket


Jeg skriker. 

Kroppen verker overalt, men den kjennes ikke ut som min. 

Jeg forsøker å åpne øynene, men øyenlokkene lar seg ikke rikke. Alle lyder er dempet, som på bunnen av elven. Og jeg er våt, men befinner meg ikke under vann. Den kjølige luften treffer huden og fortrenger et øyeblikk smerten idet kulden rister gjennom meg. Overalt er det lyder jeg aldri har hørt.

Jeg løftes opp, svinges gjennom luften, og verden snurrer. Øynene blir presset åpne. Det svir. Store skygger farer forbi meg som demoner i natten. Jeg ser noe komme mot meg, og med ett ser jeg et hvitt kjempeansikt som gapskratter. Skrik tømmer lungene mine igjen.

Jeg er kommet til dødsriket. 


Bian Shen

onsdag den 10. juni 2015

xXx


Den nakne kroppen er nesten borte. Hun ligger foran meg, men jeg kan så vidt skimte henne. Noen få flekker av henne er alt som ikke er visket ut, men de fyller meg med et sinne som sluker alt. Først da hun er helt borte, reiser jeg meg. Armene mine er foran meg, men jeg kan ikke se dem.

Jeg går og går, og kun morgenen vekker meg til verden.
Jeg faller. Tårene mine renner, forsøker å vaske meg tilbake, men jeg vil ikke.

Hendene mine finner punktet før jeg vet hva jeg vil.
Jeg dekker kroppen min fra bunn til topp.
Verden vil aldri finne meg igjen.

Bian Shen

søndag den 7. juni 2015

Duett


To hjerter og en sjel

To dråper faller ned

Faller ned og blir til en

Som to hjerter og en sjel

Du trenger bare en å dele med

For to par øyne de ser mer

Blir man ikke sett er man ingenting

 Du trenger bare en for å kjenne deg til

 To skjebner og en drøm som ber den samme bønn

-ukjent-

First Conversation



If you could speak would you describe where you've been
The world you came from?
Do the babies fall from stars above
Or are they chemical results of love?
Were you meant for me
As I was meant for you?

And could you tell us where you journey began
On a spirit planet?
Are you a sacret gift in flesh and blood
Carried by the thought of God?
Did He call for you as He once called for me?

Your first reply is an everlasting smile
My breathing child - I am breathless by surprise
We get wiser through the brain
But somehow wiser through the pain
I just believe in you as you believe in me.

How did you find us - Did you choose from a list
A "Parents Yellow Pages"?
Or did we meet as angels in a dream
Or were you just the strongest in the stream
Did you reappear from Heaven somewhere near?

Your precious little face holds that secret
I don't care - Now you're here!

Cecilie Nordby

torsdag den 4. juni 2015

empty moments


I want to know
 if you can
be alone
 with yourself
 and if you truly like
 the company
you keep
 in the empty moments

Din Tøs i regnet


 
Hun flørter med de grå skyene

Den triste himmelen faller for henne

Deres melankolske elskov
kler henne naken
i regnet


lossius-2006

Begjæret & Ekstasen


 

                          
Det er en verden
under vår verden
Ett ansikt bak
vår bleke maske

En mørk drøm
venter på de
som søker,
men ikke vet
hva de leter etter

Der skinn og sinn
formes som leire
modelleres av
begjær og lyst
bortenfor all drøm,
all oppfattelse, all
forestilling.

Der smerte og ekstase
blandes, og blir
til en hellig gral
av sanseløs henfallelse

Vri nøkkelen, finn
låsen, åpne døren,
du vet du vil, du vet
du kan, hør den lave
lyden av verdens
kjødelige sjel.

En mørk sjel som lengter,
drømmer, begjærer,
over uvirkelige avstander
og uendelige tider etter
å røre ved dine hemmelige
lyster, de som du bare
så vidt vet om og tør
forestille deg…

I smertens evighet,
blir din hjerte og sjel
formet på nytt og på nytt,
over og over igjen, til
dine sanser ser altet
bortenfor altet, intet
bakenfor intet, og
føler galskapen rive
din eksistens bit
for bit for bit.

BeatPoet-2005
Udgivet den 4. juni 2015 by Stene Anker