Solitaire matters

 

 

 

 

Well, you say we have love but from what
I see, you have your friends and I have yet
another round of solitaire and my constant
bad and hurting hip. But I don’t have you.

You tell me calmly you’ll love me no matter.
But I see I have my desires and despair all
for you, while you have taken your desires
elsewhere and whatever I have, it’s not you.

Come clean you told me I should be more
patient and forgetful and I said to be patient
and forgetful is just what I am not. And I still
play solitaire and you do whatever you do.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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No stars

We still know each other
but there are no longer any
stars on the sky between us
and I stare into a darkness.
Are you there? Still? For me?

Vi känner fortfarande varandra
men det finns inte längre några
stjärnor på himlen mellan oss
och jag stirrar in i ett mörker.
Finns du där? Ännu? För mig?

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An eloquent man

He once began as an eloquent young man with very little to say. What people liked then and still like with his novels is hard to say. But even if his admirers normally are no bookworms, they seems able to chew his thick books from cover to cover. Maybe people (men in the same age as he!) see themselves in his prolonged outsider position and in his wordy and unstructured novels? My impression is that he writes thick books all about himself and everything small he doesn’t like? Is it so? I actually don’t know if so is. He’s one (of many others famous writers) I’ve never succeeded to read all trough. (Do I try? Yes, one and again!) But having read his novels or not, every (native) person in our common little country knows who he is, as he is also a successful poet and a songwriting rock legend.

He has his fans, that sort of people who choose to worship a specific artist and do it for decades and ages with him and strongly feel the absolute need to visit his concerts whenever he’s on tour. Every artist likes to be appreciated and wants to earn money from their hard work, but for pop and rock artists there is an obvious risk some in their audience can go over the edge in their admiration. He has said once about this phenomena: “I think that’s very scary. We have a relationship, yes – but for me it is divided by a stage edge.” Private, he’s a loner and fears mingling and he doesn’t say much but say uncensored what he thinks and once with an ironic glint of a smile in his eye he called himself “a social disaster”.

I can’t quite remember how and why he first came into my mind some weeks ago. But he did and he stayed. I guess it can be I’m a native Swede and we now live “the Swedish summer”. It’s wonderful, sure – but it’s never easy. A Swedish summer is much more than “a summer” – i.e. for us native Swedes. The summer here fills our chests with romantic bursting dreams of life and love and freedom. It’s something urgently forcing with these longing dreamy undertones whistling in our hearts – and this writer has forever become a part of these undertones through his writing and songs. Like a bumblebee, he’s buzzing from the bottom of our frozen souls and testifies there’s honey there, us to benefit.

Decades has passed since his successful novel debut. Yet he seems to be the same guy as ever and all what has changed is that he has become old and wrinkled and grey. And more male grumpy than before. Though these experiences of aging are (of course) all thoroughly told, latest in another many pages book with diary reflections. This latest book finally giving him praise even from literate females. (He has (had?) a bad habit to rude criticize well-known women being writers and journalists in his novels. As he has named them, it has often give him hate in return from (especially feminist) women in different tabloids. But what else could he expect?)

No editor at the publisher house seems to be allowed to edit his verbose prose works. That’s odd, really. It seems to me it’s in his poetry and lyrics he succeeds to find his stringency and precision, making good literature. As it’s not easy, he’s worth all the credit given for it. And despite his ambiguous attitude towards women (?), he is above all a poet writing love songs – praises The Woman and finding freedom in nature, especially the sea. And he also clearly distancing himself from society as it is governed today. It’s finally his songs and poems that have made even his hardest critics to understand and admit he actually can write good poetry!

He’s a well-known writer in Scandinavia but few of his books are translated to other languages and those few which are, only into Danish, Finnish and Norwegian. Why? He’s not the only wordy writer in the world, hard to translate. Is this yet another negligent duty of his publisher?

42 years career behind him and he has gone from a young unkempt rebel with a constant hangover and never deserted dreams of fame, who faltered around in life with self-doubts, porn magazines, wine bottles and anxiety in some torn plastic grocery bag, to now being a grumpy old millionaire with a fat bank account, a Viagra recipe and a rich man’s country house not far from the sea – just like he wanted it to become. A success story and not a common guy, after all. He just looks like one.

No, he does not look like an intellectual or a rich man. But more like an aged truck driver, shabby and tired as caught in a snapshot when he slow and stiff leaves a road cafe after a short break during the ride, on his way home for a good shower and long sleep in a clean bed. The fact he with age has become a well-read and well-educated man he prefer not to show up, neither in speech nor in writing. Even so, he’s still that boy pointing the finger saying the emperor is naked, the tailors are scammers. And it’s hell wrong!

At 68, his girlfriends are still never older than 23 (or something) and they are all well shaped and good looking and having artistic dreams of a future fame between their thighs. (A famous old man with a bad reputation and a thick wallet is an accepted stepping stone for a smart young woman, or what? Young women should truly know better, because youth is no protection against acidic old wine.) Either way, the women come and go in his life, but still he is always alone in his nice and comfortable beach house, as ever before.

He’s a novelist, a poet, a songwriter and a touring rock star – and as if that would not be enough, at old age he has begun to paint. And he sell his paintings on exhibitions for staggering sums! Although some stuff seems to be painted by his pet chimpanzee (of what I can see from those shown on net images). Just terrible stuff! But he doesn’t care a shit what the critics writes about what he do. He earns a lot of money and he say he never care to read reviews.

Regardless highbrow critics, he is loved by his audience, the common people. To them he’s the average man, like themselves. And all the years in his past lost on addiction to alcohol and drugs would have put him on the street if he not had been carried by common people’s – his audience – devotion, and their money spent on consuming him, of course.

Not that he would ever admit such a connection, certainly not! He despise devoted admiration and if any fans shows any tendency to develop to groupies he just pause the singing during a performance and roughly ask them to “fuck off”, simply leave the concert. (Making a scandal in papers again!) Yes, but he’s loved anyway like this sort of unpolished men often becomes, no one really knows why! Maybe we confuse bad behavior with authenticity? Yes, I think he got an air of authenticity around his being! And I actually believe he is just that, an authentic human!

Grumpy and uncomfortable yet tied to his country, that’s him. (That’s a Swede!) But it’s not a new state of one man’s mind: the country has already a national poet who wrote about this (especially Swedish) discomfort:

Jag är en främling i detta land
men detta land är ingen främling i mig!
Jag är inte hemma i detta land
men detta land beter sig som hemma i mig!

I’m a stranger in this country
but this country is not a stranger in me!
I’m not at home in this country
but this country acts as it is at home in me!

(Gunnar Ekelöf 1907 – 1968, the first verse of a poem called Non Serviam in a collection with the same name, from 1945)

He’s a public person and everyone’s property. Yet he’s a shy and introvert man, living alone in the silence of the countryside afar! He’s nevertheless generous and pretty much friendly in talking about what’s private with journalists. All those countless interviews during the years! It’s all in the game of course, a need to earn his money as being both the product and the seller of his skill. He’s telling about the miserable limitations of a lonely life. Quite satisfied yet with his life.

He is still at age 68 an eloquent man with not much to say, but he writes it far and wide in his prose. In his songs and poetry he occasionally succeeds to do it very well. Catches the core of the Swedish soul.

Posted in create life, inspiring literature, inspiring music, inspiring songs, poems by vonnely, Sweden view, Swedish "culture", Swedish artists, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Anyway

 

Now the sun shines happy on a blue sky
and the heat in my body rises high.

But nobody loves me anyway!

At night, the summer fever makes me groan
in my single bed with sweaty sheets, all alone.

And nobody loves me anyway!

It’s my destiny to live without trust,
feeling all life gave me was a dry crust!

As nobody loves me in any way!

Everybody can feel lonely at times.
But me, poor soul, feel locked out all the time.

But somebody said he loves me anyway.

Posted in apart, fragile, loneliness, loners, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry, sadness | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Swedes, know your directions! Wake!

It’s June 6, Sweden’s National Day!

watchdog on a Swedish meadow

Öppna Landskap (Open landscapes) 
the song is written by Ulf Lundell,
Swedish writer, poet and rock artist

Posted in summertime, svenska kålrötter, Sweden view, Swedish "culture", Swedish artists, Swedish conditions | Tagged | Leave a comment

Bitterness

I woke up today with bitterness in my heart.
And I washed my hair and I had my coffee
and I read the news on the web and I edited
some writing. Now my hair has almost dried
and I have to decide what to do next, if not
for the rest of my life as my sad heart cries
for (end it with a knife straight in the pain!) 😦
so for the rest of the day. Take one moment
at a time, that’s all what you can and should
do when life turn you down, no glory given.

Posted in heartache, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry, sadness, with or without you | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Longing for the sea (längtan till havet)

terrace at Villa Angela, Taormina

I have lived at inlands my whole life.
Now with age it feels as if the inlands
choke me and I’m longing to the sea.
But I feel trapped in poverty and my
lack of health and supporting friends.
You’re always told that you should be
happy with what you have. But what
I have isn’t what I want. What I want
is to spend the rest my life close to an
ocean, viewing the endless waves.


Jag har bott i inlands i hela mitt liv.
Nu med åldern känns det som att
inlandet kväver mig och jag längtar
till havet. Men jag känner mig låst
av fattigdom och min brist på hälsa
och stödjande vänner. Man får då
alltid höra att man borde var nöjd
med vad man har. Men vad jag har
är inte vad jag vill ha. Vad jag vill är
att tillbringa resten av mitt liv nära
havet, betraktande oändliga vågor.

 

 

 

Posted in aging, dreaming, longing, nature, old age, Poem in Swedish, poem in Swedish and English, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry, summertime | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Walk with me

Walk with me in your mind barefoot on the hard rocks along the shore one more day.

Posted in apart, dreamers, loners, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

I’m sorry

Was I stupid, or was it you who
misled me on purpose? No matters!
We have all our desires. And I don’t
want to blame any of us, but to say
“I’m sorry it became as it became”.
As these are the days we have.

Posted in dreaming, fooled, heartache, hope, inspiring music, loneliness, loss, love poem, love story, morality, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry, reading life, romance, summer poem, with or without you | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

I miss smoking cigarettes

Photographer Bill Rauhauser, image1960s

I miss you!
But, oh well! I miss smoking
cigarettes too! I’ve been told
I have done well ending with
bad men as well as with
cigarettes. Oh well!
I haven’t smoked in 18 years.
I wonder if I still will miss you
18 years from now? Oh, well!
I’m happy if I’m still alive then!
The past is gone and a future
may not be for an old like me!
All there’s, is this day and this
moment now when I miss you.
(I miss smoking cigarettes too!)

 

 

 

Posted in aging, create life, love poem, memories, missing, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry, romance | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Single “forever”

If you wonder if I miss you
the answer is simply “yes”.
All other answers are “no”.
If you can forget me: good!
If you can’t: just live with it.
And the same goes for me!

 

You said your love was forever and I was your moon,
and all you could think of was getting to see me soon,
and you gave so much light to my lonely life afar.
But time and life have shown me you’re a fraudulent star,
having your naughty secrets you never wanted to share,
The revealed thorns of your red roses I simply can’t bear.
To you my heart might be unpredictable and changeable,
but I’m a real woman and not a brainless vegetable,
and “soon” will be never and that’s my single “forever”.

 

 

Posted in afar, aging, armed loneliness, heartache, loneliness, loners, longing, loss, lost trust, love poem, love story, missing, morality, online romance, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry, relationships | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Porn is not an issue, it’s just a “no”!

You have met a nice guy, finally. And he’s such an angel to you, nice and charming and respectful. Right?

I did too. He’s a believer he told me early on, and preach and pray every day and he teach children for a living. He love his sisters dearly (at least as long as they live conventionally and don’t get pregnant without being married).

I didn’t mind, I’m not religious, but I have my own moral standards coloring my everyday life. I’m a socialist, a vegetarian, a feminist and I’m always walking in comfortable footwear, never high heels. There are people looking askance and distancing on me because of that. It’s not nice and I would hate to do the same to others. So I could accept his lifestyle.

We truly live different lives and have certainly gone through crisis during the past years and now I thought (we both thought) we had passed all that. We’ve been close for almost three years and we have been talking about coming together as soon we got a chance with money and jobs and that sort of things.

I would never have believed when I woke up last Friday, the day would end with him telling me something that instantly would make me, with a simple button push, block him out of my life forever and without a word of goodbye.

When you meet someone, you ask things like “what food do you like” or “which is your favorite color”. You don’t ask how him how he cope with live in celibacy. So it may take years before you are told that he – who says that he loves you above all on earth and will do so forever and ever more –  is a persistent porn video viewer. No, I don’t refer to have occasionally of curiosity watched a nude movie in your lifetime, who hasn’t! No, it’s a constant habit he has and which he never told me about before. Three years of my life I gave to this guy. And it shows he’s a regular lifestyle porn consumer!

It was an instant and doubtless act, simple and clean, to delete him from my laptop and my life. It was firstly the next day I became sad. Now two days gone, I feel so soiled to have been involved with such a scum!

Many years ago he told me with such an emphasis he hates hypocrites so very much. I don’t like hypocrites either. But he never told me he was one of them.

 

Quote from Robert Weiss, Huffington Post “Is Porn Cheating” 06/07/2017

“Infidelity (cheating) is the breaking of trust that occurs when you deliberately keep intimate, meaningful secrets from your primary romantic partner.

Please notice that this definition does not talk about porn, webcams, sexting, social media, hookup apps, strip clubs, one-night stands, prostitutes, affairs, or any other sexual or romantic act. Instead, it focuses on what matters most in healthy relationships – emotional intimacy and trust. With infidelity, it’s not any specific sexual act that angers and hurts your betrayed partner the most, it’s the lying and the keeping of important secrets. After that, your significant other finds it hard to trust anything you say or do, and that is a painful realization for you both.”

Posted in cultures, heartache, loss, lost trust, morality, online romance, poems by vonnely, reading life, relationships, repression and borders, secret love, sexuality | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Old Woman Blues


It’s a sad thing to have become
an old woman, living alone with
a cat and a TV set, desperately
longing for a warm hand and a
little sympathy and someone to
talk to: easy victim of wreckers.

 

woman with a cat, Pablo Picasso 1900

Posted in aging, grief, loneliness, loners, longing, old age, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry, sadness | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Fleeing Dragonfly in May

dragonfly steel edblad sweden

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m standing now afterwards in front of my
mirror and admires my latest jewelry. It’s a
necklace in form of a dragonfly. This ancient
insect has existed 300 million years back in
time, but having a lifetime of only a few days.
Yet its shimmering and fragile beauty belongs
to eternity. It’s a keepsake I wanted to have.

But it was easy for me then, no hesitation at all.
After a long silence he said “goodnight”. I said
the same. I waited polite for the green light to
went out, then I deleted him from my chat list.
I removed his phone number on my cellphone.
The next day, before blocking him, I emailed
him: “About our last chat: I don’t want to have
any more contact with you, I’m sorry!” He can
do whatever he wants to do. But he can’t do it
and at the same have a relationship with me.
I left him faster than an elusive dragonfly.

 

reading more about dragonflies:

https://www.dragonfly-site.com/meaning-symbolize.html

 

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Moon Girl

Then one night the Moon Girl looked at her
crying face in the water and she told herself
“Girl, that man doesn’t make you happy”, but
the Water Girl had no ears, but simply tears.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(the drawing by Federico Garcia Lorca)
Posted in heartache, inspiring images, loneliness, love poem, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The rose searched another thing

A poem by Federico Garcia Lorca 1898 – 1936
De la rosa / From the Rose

 

 

 

The rose
didn’t search the aurora:
almost eternal on its branch,
searched another thing.

The rose
didn’t search science or shadow:
confine of flesh and dream,
searched another thing.

The rose
didn’t search the rose:
immobile at the sky,
searched another thing.

 

 

 

 

La rosa
no buscaba la aurora:
casi eternal en su ramo,
buscaba otra cosa.

La rosa
no buscaba ni ciencio ni sombra:
confín de carne y sueño,
buscaba otra cosa.

La rosa
no buscaba la rosa:
inmóvil por el cielo,
buscaba otra cosa.

 

Posted in dreamers, inspiring literature, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry, translations by vonnely | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

My lover is a fisherman

My lover is a fisherman and once he got me
on the hook with his glistening lure and now
he doesn’t want to let me go free. And even if
his trawler is gone far, the net tied behind is
firmly lashed. Since then I’m tied to him and
his net has become my jail and it has dragged
me deep down in the blues sea, as the pains
of the hook in my heart keeps me so low and
slow. But in salt sea water tears are not visible
and maidens’ weep sounds like alluring sirens
songs in the men’s world. And the destiny for
the caught maid is to stare at her mate’s back.

 

 

 

 

Posted in Africa, love poem, love story, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry, relationships, romance | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

All that I have (yet another wonderful summer)


And yet another wonderful summer.
Biking to a lake, reading a book and
drink coffee from a thermos and eat
cinnamon buns, sticky in the heat –
and breadcrumbs and ants all over
the blanket. (To bike slowly home in
the afternoon sun, happy no matter
and then have dinner at the laptop.)
In bed late yet early dawn and try to
sleep and not to think and still do it:
One more wonderful summer and I’m
here and where are you and my life?

Posted in create life, dreamers, loneliness, loners, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry, reading life, walk of life | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The fragrances lingers


This last long cold winter never seemed to let go of its grip.
Then spring came rapidly and intense. On Wednesday last
week when I cycled downtown to the local library I could
see how all the spring flowers bloomed at the same time.
Well, spring use to be an intense season, but not as much
as this year. And strange we also got summer with a hefty
heat wave! Sun and a blue sky and the air was saturated
with pollen from all trees and shrubs! But I could see how
the lilacs tried to hold back a little more. Now Wednesday
a week later the same bike ride to return a short time loan.
It was the latest book by Le Carré. The conversations in it
must have been a “giggle party” for the translator, I read
in a review. Not for me! But I had read only half the book.
I looked in the mirror before I left home and this day I said
to myself, “well okay then, that’s aged look”. And all lilacs
bloomed and filled the air with alluring perfume fragrance.
I noted I didn’t care more for their beauty call or romantic
desires. But I’m happy I’m neither allergic nor immune to
the lilac scent. Lovely! That’s how it is, fragrances lingers!

Posted in books, fragrances, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry, spring, summer poem, summertime | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A humble man with a heart

STILL LIFE 2013, Eddie Marsan as John May

It was a Monday in the beginning of April this year and I had an appointment with my dental hygienist the very same morning. It turned out to be a meeting including more than a cleaning of teeth, but resulting in an X-ray on one movable tooth. That inquired a dentist to join us in the room to decide about a treatment. She told me she would make an assessment for me. Because the X-ray showed I had an inflammation at the tooth root and therefore I must come back for remove the tooth and reconstruct my partial denture.There were no other options.

It meant it would not come cheap. So in a blink my summer plans for a trip abroad ran away easy like sand between fingers. The tax refund I receive every summer would this year go to dental care – and not one penny for tribute!

I knew even as the travel was off, I would get problems to pay the upcoming treatments. I knew too this kind of inflammation can’t be ignored but must be treated, not to put a serious danger to my body and health. I felt like crying biking home. But I didn’t. I knew I had to write my friend telling her I couldn’t see her as planned. But I didn’t. And I haven’t yet.

If you live as poor in a welfare society, you seemingly have a life equal to all others around. Especially in Sweden there, for example, dental care costs only one tenth of what it would cost in, for example, the United States. So it can take weeks or even years before you become brutally confronted with your true poverty (again). All the same, you will feel the same humiliation and shame over the shortcomings in your life conditions as if you were living in some terrible slum exposed to hard neediness every day. You will feel like crap, fact stripped naked: you are poor and lonely and you cannot even afford simple dental care.

So you get better close your mouth then!

If you feel alone in a welfare society, you share your vulnerability with many others. Many more than you ever can imagine, as though having friends and work and family bounds people can carry the burden of feeling alienated.

In my opinion, it’s simply a soul thing as I believe the human species are born with this talent to experience loneliness. As well as the talent to save body fat, the longing for togetherness and gather in groups is a tool for survival of our species. Back in the beginning of our time.

From my social and economic position, I despise such complaints about feeling alone. These people who have a good economy and family and friends have no idea what real loneliness is, that’s my emotional reaction. Of course I know I’m wrong! But sadly, no one is free from patronize others. Not me either.

So – in a modern society, loneliness is the most widespread of suffering. But sharing a sickness like that one will not make you feel better. Like wildlife animals in nature we hide our weaknesses.

In a modern society we mostly respect others freedom and avoid to violate their integrity. If your neighbor seems to loathe the company of others, we let him do so without interventions.

If you live poor in a welfare society and are old or unemployed, you will probably be living alone too and if one day, while sitting in your chair at home your heart would stop, no one would know.

In a modern society you can live a whole life without meeting anyone else but a neighbor at the stairs or a cashier at the supermarket there you buy your daily bread. You say “thank you” or ‘”good morning”, and that’s all to it and it’s perfectly alright. No saber toothed tiger will hunt you for dinner because of your for a moment exposed unprotected position.

If you live alone in a welfare society without any social contacts – whatever might be – you will die as alone as you have lived and may lie dead in your apartment during a long time. Your flat becomes your grave. Because if you in that situation have had any kind of pension or income and have arranged with your bank that rent, electricity and other fixed fees being paid by direct debit, it may take many years before your remnants are discovered.

The neighbors might complain about the smell from your apartment and complain to the landlord. The landlord – or debt collectors – will with police assistance break into your home.

Joyce Carol Vincent

This was the story of Joyce Carol Vincent, who lay dead in her bedsit in a rental London apartment for three years with the television still playing and the window ajar. She died alone in December 2003 and was discovered firstly in 2006 as representatives of the landlord forced themselves into her home. This, because her rents was only partly paid and over time had raised a debt for about $ 2400 (or something like that, I don’t remember).

As she hadn’t respond to reminding letters, the landlord now claimed back the apartment. And that’s how her remains were found. It was not much left of her body – this once so beautiful woman who died at the young age 38 – so it was not possible to state cause of death.

Uncomfortable with such a sad thing can happen to someone, the film producer Carol Morley made a documentary about Joyce’s life. It’s called “Dreams of a life” (2011). I have not seen this documentary – yet.

But I came to know about this documentary because it was mentioned in a review I read about another movie, “Still Life” by Uberto Pasolino. I watched this movie the same evening I had been to the dentist, that day when my mood went underground for long time.

Such a day you would might need a “feel good movie”, like for example “Sleepless in Seattle” or “Love actually” or “Amélie” or “Singing in the rain” – or whatever you can think of… this, to cure your low mood? But I choose to watch “Still life”! Maybe I’m crazy, but the following weeks I watched it over and again. And the other night it was on TV again and I watched it once again – for the fifth time now!

Uberto Pasolini Still Life in Venice

It’s a slow movie and very touching which require a lot of the viewer. But it’s perfectly made in all its details. I love for that guy who made it, the film director Uberto for Pasolini!

It’s a story about the lonely Mr. John May being sacked from his job as a lower social servant. Mr. May is a man who has dedicated his life to give people who dies alone a dignified end by trying to find relatives to the diseased, going through remaining belongings, arranging appropriate funerals, writing a speech for the priest to read – and often to be the only present guest at the funeral. And then last closing the actual act and place the folder in the archive for finished cases.

As said I have watched the movie several times and I have furthermore read reviews and interviews and listening to soundtrack on Youtube videos and searched images. That was the easy part, to be enchanted by this movie. But it  has been very difficult to write an entry about it. It has taken me almost a month!

It did not make me happier to watch this movie but it has a catharsis effect, that kind that’ll get you in balance. This good pleasing effect vanished a bit when I began to read reviews of the movie in papers online. Actually some critics reminded me of Mr. May’s callous boss Mr. Pratchett, as complaining over the telling style “challenges the tear duct” and the tempo and the choice of topic! Mr. May, namely. Loners are stigmatized even as fiction characters!

The final scenes with a supernatural theme also make some critics irritated and distanced them to the film. I have no believes in such but I think in this context it has a function. It’s a picturing recalling to earlier scenes in the movie showing Mr. Mays highly private hobby to save the images of his former clients in an album at home. He has showed them respect and kept them  – and in the final scene they honor him for it: even a lowly and anonymous life is meaningful and deserves respect. It’s tragic people patronize lonely people’s lives, and so do film critics – even over a fictional character as in this brave movie, example:

May, who spends Still Life as a quiet acquaintance of the dead, never had any real friends; he was a hero only by being a ghost in his own life story.

I will pee on your car, Mister who wrote that!

Well, it is a very touching and intimate story, that’s clear. Nothing for those who flees in high speed from that little life that strongly affects the embarrassing stuff we hide from others eyes. The vulnerable, you know!

The title “Still life” is a poetic playing with different possible meanings. That is more useful to do in Swedish as being more ambiguous, having about half the number of words against the English language. It’s nice to see this is possible in English too!

And the film is full of such intricate details. In his work Mr. May meet the young nonchalant morgue servant spending time on crosswords. The young guy asks Mr. May about tricky ones to solve and Mr. May have the answers, no pondering. The young man tell him  “your wasted here”, “mastermind”… “Flightless birds, four letters?” “Dodo”, Mr. May tell without any hesitation.

Dodo is an extinct bird who could not fly. How did he know? Mr. May was truly a mastermind. Still there were no books in his home, except for his photo album.

The movie is from 2013 and made by the Italian film director Uberto Pasolini. Eddie Marsan makes a fantastic interpretation of the character John May. Soundtrack: Nathalie Portman. Director of photography: Stefano Falivene.

If you want to read more about this subject:
https://theartsdesk.com/film/still-life

And I recommend the interview by Jakub Michalik in this blog entry: Pasolini tells about what inspired him to do this film:

http://fipresciwarsawproject.blogspot.se/2013/10/for-me-this-is-about-life-not-death.html

Jakub Michalik ending question in the interview: Would you say it’s a movie about something that is motionless, dead and still or about something that still exists and does not end with death?

Pasolini answers (it’s an answer too long to quote, I know – but I do it anyway, sorry):

You can read it in different ways. For me this is about life, not death – about the need to engage with other people and to remain alive by engaging with other people’s lives. It’s about recognizing other people’s lives, which is what the central character does. What he wants to do, when he collects those little things in people’s apartments and writes the eulogies, is reminding the world, which is not listening, that this person had a life which has to be recognized before it’s forgotten forever. One of the things that is really important is that he is not a sad character. He’s a bit different from us, we might wish that his life was more complex, we like the idea that his life is opening out. There is a change in him and he appreciates that but he’s not sad about his old loneliness, he doesn’t feel lonely – he’s solitary, but not lonely. It was very important that the audience didn’t feel pity for him. We shouldn’t judge it on our notion of a successful life and in the same way we shouldn’t judge the life of his neighbor. He did end his life sadly, but he had also lived a life, he had children, he had love affairs, he saved somebody from dying in a war, he was a good friend. Recognize other people’s lives and don’t judge them too much. They’re still lives. They’re as good as yours.

STILL LIFE, director Uberto Pasolini (center), cinematographer Stefano Falivene (far right), 2013

Posted in inspiring movies, loneliness, loners, sadness | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A future that’s not!

I’ve grown old thinking about renting a flat in a
high-rise house. There’s one available now on
third floor with balcony to west with a view over
a bakery roof and with a window to north with
big green plastic dumpsters comfortable below.
The house has an elevator and it’s my primary
desire at this time in my life as my feet and hips
are worn out and hurts me daily. There are no
green areas for hiking around and I don’t need
it anymore, but a bus stop and a grocery store
with a post office just across the street and that
will suits me fine: it’s perfect for an aged person
like me! (And I just hate it all!) Maybe I should
wait just a while, not limp too fast into things?
There’s another building not far away that might
suits me even better later on as the ground floor
holds both a restaurant and funeral office and
what more can an oldie wish? I could just take
the elevator down and then choose left or right,
depending on the state of my body! I should be
happy and not grumpy! But a future that’s not?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in living with chronic diseases, Living with chronic pains, old age, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

That old song

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You have loved that old song “Missing you”
too long and too much and then you got so
much of it you just had to get it out of your
system as it became unhealthy for you. And
now you have peace resting in lay-land! Well,
you still think of him sometimes and you get
a little of guilt as he may suffer not keeping in
touch. Yet you know you’re better off without
that mess! But in the empty landscape that is
your soul now, you miss to have someone to
miss! It seems we humans must have love and
emotions in our lives and one who asks for us
and cares. It’s like vitamins for the human soul.

 

 

 

website: sandydenny.co.uk

Posted in create life, inspiring music, love poem, missing, past, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry, relationships, romance, with or without you | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The lure is the same

 

 

 

 

 

It may be a strange thing to live daily within another language as I do. I mostly even think in English and not in my native language, Swedish. So I feel comfortable and homey with it. Within the limited vocabulary that I have, I have extended the limitations of my actual life and become a writer in English. So sudden I read a poem by an American poet – and well, yes! Certainly I understand single words in the text. But I don’t understand a word of the whole context! No! Shock!

Sandra Alcosser

It is a poem by the American poet Sandra Alcosser that I stumbled over during my daily walks at the cyberspace, searching for this and that. The poem is named A FISH TO FEED ALL HUNGER and the first verse is:

On the porch like night peelings,
bags of red hackles.
The fisherman is dressing,
capes of moose mane around him.
In his vise, he wraps the waist
of a minnow with chenille.

 

Now let’s see!

“Night peelings”. It’s a kind of night cream some women put on their face in evening to exfoliate their face skin. The poem talks about a man dressing. It’s not him associating to nigh care cream looking at bags of red hackles, surely. But it’s him dealing with bags of hackles. That’s hooks for fly fishing.

(I’m not familiar of the two uses. And “bag” in Swedish only means a bigger sack, so it’s a lot of rooster feathers on that porch.)

dry fishing fly

I think it’s in the morning. It’s a women telling the story. And she exfoliate her skin so much she could have bags of it!

It’s crazy! I’m puzzled. Well, I could have looked on a photo that  illustrated the poem, but I never did. I went straight to the glossaries online. Two days and one night I’ve spent on this mysterious poem! When a simple image could have explained it all to me!

But I went on, following the lines word by word:

He’s dressed in capes of moose mane and she’s still in her nightgown of chenille. So it is in morning, surely.

Chenille is only fabric for nightgowns in my world, namely. And what about the man and his dressing?

I don’t know why he wear so many cloaks of moose mane as it swirls around him? It must be some masculinity mystery? He wraps her minor fish waist. I don’t know why he do that, maybe it’s a hug as he leaving?

She has become small and slim on her fishtail with all that night peelings!

Yes, I think the woman is a mermaid! The fisherman is her big catch, her lover. It’s morning and he’s leaving for a fishing tour. That is the story the poem tells us!

The three following verses tells me I got it all wrong. Except that about a fishing tour. I believe now it’s about a girl child following a fisherman on a fishing trip!

We wade downstream. I am barefoot.
The fisherman stands, thigh deep,
seining insects. Perhaps today
in this blizzard of cottonwood
it is the caddis that rises,
after a year in mud, from larva
to phoenix in four seconds.

The fisherman ties an imitator
of hare’s mask and mallard breast.
He washes his hands in anisette,
then casts back, a false cast,
watching the insects legs
break the water.

I line the creel with hay and mint
and lay in six pale trout. There is a pink
line that runs the length of a rainbow’s
belly more delicate than an inner ear.
It makes the whole basket quiver.

The verses tells about nature around the two, about fish food and the fishing doings. They’re out to catch rainbow trout. They don’t talk as they have such kind of silent fellowship nature people can have.

Then come the final verse. I must say, if it is a girl child, she’s certainly precocious! But I change my opinion again and it’s not a child. I think it is actually a mermaid after all.

In spite I haven’t understood what I have read and got the most wrong, I got something right! It oozes sexuality in this poem.

The fisherman does not ask why I come.
I have neither rod nor permit.
But I see him watch me afternoons as I bend
to brush down my rooster-colored hair.
He understands a fish to feed all hunger.
And the lure is the same.

rooster red hair

And now I also understand why Muslim societies terrified covers women’s hair and necks.

Before I could picture fly fishing in my mind: a guy standing in water with rod. Now, after two days and one night with this poem, I know a lot more about fly fishing. But I’m still a vegetarian and will still remain so. (Put such hooks in the flesh of creature who can experience pain, never!)

Oh, I should have study the illustrating photo, but on the other hand I can now read and understand the context in this poem. But I still not understand that first metaphor. With luck, the future will educate me more.

I found the poem on this link: http://bigskyjournal.com/back-40-fish-feed-hunger/

 

fishing lures

moose mane

Mount the hook in the vise, attach the thread and wrap the entire shank of the hook to the bend.

 

 

Posted in Attraction, inspiring literature, nature, poems, poems by vonnely, reading, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

An actual description

“Keep smiling” is the worst advice and pressure people can ever put on themselves and others. It should belong to “the human rights” to be able to talk about melancholy moods without getting moralizing from someone, and not least from yourself.  Equality for all emotions, no matter what kind!

 

What’s the point of having eyes when
all they see is darkness? All troubles
hold me by my throat and love is still
far. My daily bread is a chewing of all
the sad experiences from a hard past.
I have lost my teeth, because the luck
never seems to walk my track. I have
tried so hard to keep my mood up but
the harder I tried, the weaker and more
tensed I have become. Maybe it will be
some kind of a new dawn, waking up
on gravel beach, given no explanations.
And just take it from there. But right now
I’m just in a dead end without any light.
It’s just an actual description of how it is.

 

 

 

 

Posted in darkness, fatigue, fragile, lost, obstacles, poem, poems by vonnely, Poetry, sadness | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A single bird sings

A poem by Federico Garcia Lorca
Spanish poet and dramatist (1898 – 1936)

Un pájaro sólo
cantar.
Oímos por espejos.

En allena fågel
sjunger.
Vi hör medelst speglar.

A single bird
sings.
We hear through mirrors.

 

 

 

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You are allowed to be happy

I tell myself:

 

“You are allowed to be happy now, even if
you still mourn what you once never had.

The sun rarely shone on you and darkness
linger deep in your sad eyes and heart, yet
you are now one moon shining for the one.”

I try to focus of what I have, but it’s so hard.

Posted in create life, fragile, grief, love poem, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry, relationships | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Dark chocolate, love’s bitter taste

I miss talking to you. But I don’t know if it is more
than that anymore. Maybe I just miss someone to
talk to? Or maybe I’m in “a phase”, low and tired?
But I think you feel sad and worried, but holds it all
hidden in your heart only for your lonely nights with
lights off. Then you think of me and I tastes in your
heart and mouth like very dark and bitter chocolate.

Posted in dreamers, loneliness, love poem, poem, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry, romance, sadness | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Rotten eggs (the cracking of a Culture Elite)

Rotten Row Hyde Park 1902

From the nicest chambers came odors
as of rotten eggs from a window forgotten
ajar. Then surprisingly a compost bag was
thrown out and exposed to street people,
but only for scandalous purposes. And so,
sudden all windows wide open, disclosing
what “everyone” knew or assumed: that
Culture Elites are the lowest of the lowest.
They’re flourishing abysses of jealousy and
slander, of delusions and dirt throwing and
all sorts of disgusting intrigues and snotty
arrogance. Next? Doors and windows will
become closed in embarrassed shame, so
what’s rotten will rot away to be peacefully
forgotten and hidden and made invisibly as
if there is never dirt. In certain circles.

 

 

Från de fina salongerna kom dofter
som av ruttna ägg. Det var ett fönster
på glänt; så en kompostpåse utslängd
till gatans folk för skandalösa syften.
Så, alla fönster med ens på vid gavel,
avslöjande vad alla redan visste eller
anade: kulturens elit är den lägsta av
alla avgrunder. Där frodas avundsjuka
och svartsjuka, förtal och smutskastning
och snorkig överlägsenhet och alla slag
av vidriga intriger. Så, vad blir? Dörrar
och fönster stängs i generad skam, så att
det som ruttnar ska få ruttna i stilla frid
och med tiden bli glömt och gömt och
osynliggjort. Som om smuts aldrig finns.
I vissa kretsar.

 

(this time I wrote in Swedish and translated to English)
Posted in poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry, reading, svenska kålrötter, Sweden view, Swedish "culture", Swedish artists, Swedish conditions, Swedish poem to English, web papers, writing | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Swedish to English, “knytblus” – “pussy-bow blouse”

René Boivin 1940 Agnès (Millinery) 1940 Chameleon Brooch Bracelet Vintage advert Jewelry photography by André Durst

 

 

 

 

I wrote on Friday about the Swedish Academy scandal and about how (many) women (and men) in Sweden on Friday 13 wore a “knytblus” to show their sympathy for Sara Danius, the newly kicked director for the Swedish Academy. I translated “knytblus” to “neck-tie blouse”. But today reading an article in New York Times I learn the right word is “pussy-bow blouse”. I would never have guessed!! 😀 😀

http://www.nytimes.com/2018/04/13/style/knytblus-bow-blouses-sweden.html

I want  to correct an information in the same text in this paper: it mention the suicide of the former director for a Stockholm theater: “The prominent theater director Benny Fredriksson resigned from his post last year after he was accused of enabling a culture of sexual abuse. Last month, Mr. Fredriksson commited suicide .” 

This is a very tragic story! The scandal around Mr. Fredriksson just appeared at the same time as the mee-too movement was most on the agenda in the Swedish newspapers. But a thorough investigation has free him from all suspicions in that direction. Mr. Fredriksson had nothing to do with such, but he was criticized for his undemocratic and harsch leadership. This should be noted for his sake and his posthumous reputation. RIP

 

stylepantry.com/2011/10/24/
Boyfriend Blazer + Pussy Bow Denim Shirt + Boyfriend Jeans

 

This could be my favorite style! Except for the earrings, the shoes and that bag! It’s not my kind of accessories, really. But I’m not young, black and beautiful either. 😀

Posted in poems by vonnely, reading, Sweden view, Swedish "culture", Swedish conditions, web papers | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

On Friday 13, the last pig goes to slaughter

Today, it is neck tie blouse day in Sweden, for Ministers as well as common people in support for Sara Danius, yesterday kicked head leader  for the Swedish Academy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Left: “Den sista grisen” (The last pig), the book cover of Horace Engdahl’s latest book. Engdahl is also a member of the Swedish Academy and he more than the other “old men” in the Academy, aggressively used scandalous methods to kick out Sara Danius from her leadership and “chair”.

Danius created a habit to wear a neck tie blouse on the Academy meetings  – as a gimmick and an ironic blink. “The old guard”  hated her for her style and in the last act of the drama on Thursday 12 March, 2018 they made her pay for her way. But sometimes the winners are the losers. #knytblus  (knytblus=neck tie blouse) is the new movement in Sweden!

The last male pig goes to slaughter… 🙂

Read more: https://www.nytimes.com/2018/04/12/world/europe/sara-danius-swedish-nobel-scandal.html

It certainly is the neck tie blouse day today for common people in Sweden as well as for “celebrities” and politicians. Below a few of all supporters for Sara Danius:






 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

AddingApril 14: Quote from an article in the tabloid “Expressen” April 14 by the Swedish writer Jonas Gardell, commenting the Swedish Academy scandal: It is a rare view to see so many aged men standing there with so much butt exposed.

http://www.expressen.se/kultur/jonas-gardell/horace-har-vunnit-slaget-men-han-forlorar-kriget/

Posted in Poetry, Sweden view, Swedish "culture", Swedish conditions, web papers, writing | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

I met you in my dream / Jag mötte dig i min dröm

 

 

 

 

 

 

I met you in my dream and we walked hand
in hand on a beach below a city I have never
seen and you told me “I will never forget you”
and I woke up all the gloomy winter mornings
alone and far from you. Sometimes we talked
on the phone and you said with your French
accent “I will never forget you” and you made
me live in a dream, hand in hand with you on
a beach far away, where I have never been.

 

 

 

Jag mötte dig i min dröm, vi gick hand
i hand på en strand nedom en stad som
jag aldrig har sett och du sa till mig “Jag
kommer aldrig att glömma dig” och jag
vaknade alla dunkla vintermorgnar, ensam
och långt från dig. Vi talade i telefon ibland
och du sa till mig med din franska brytning
“Jag ska aldrig glömma dig” och du fick mig
att leva i en dröm, hand i hand med dig på
en strand långt bort, där jag aldrig har varit.

Posted in afar, Attraction, create life, dreamers, dreaming, love poem, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry, romance | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Winter Street

 

The scientists believe nowadays, there are two
trillions galaxies “out there”. Our “own” galaxy
is named The Milky Way in several languages,
even in Arabic, though it comes from a pagan
Greek myth. In Finnish it’s imaginatively called
The Bird’s Track (Linnunrata). But in Swedish
it’s simply and soberly called The Winter Street.
Wandering, I still think of you at times. You, who
walks the streets where there’s attendance and
warmth, like milk seeping from a cow’s teats. But
I’m far in the North and I walk on a winter street
there all is distance and it is sparsely between all.
We cannot touch in this now. But you may have
faith and patience to wait for a summer to come.
I’m too numb and cold to plead for it. No trillions
of galaxies can give a thrill to a distant heart here!
Yet, your heart is a bird and its track leads to me.

Posted in afar, dreamers, loneliness, love poem, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry, Winter heart | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Hesitating spring

 

 

 

 

 

Finally winter leaves, spring is coming.
It is all so hesitant and with no desires.
Far or near, you are free to go if that is
what you want to do. But I’d prefer you
to stay with me. For you, it’s not about
choosing. Though, at this time of year
no one remember a past summer and
its butterflies who fluttered, then died.

Posted in longing, love poem, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Before is no more (Förr finns inte längre)

Translation to English after the Swedish text

Lill Babs, Barbro Svensson 1938 – 2018

När det igår tisdag rapporterades i media att Lill Babs dött på förmiddagen samma dag, insåg jag för första gången på allvar att Wasa Knäckebröd inte är svenskt längre. Samt att mina dagar (också) är räknade. Tiden har sprungit förbi mig. Det är för jävligt. Jag dricker pepparmintthe idag och försöker komma över det.

Jo, man är ju i den åldern (jag blir 69 år nu i april) då människor och fenomen som alltid funnits där i ens samtid ”går ur tiden” som det så vackert heter. Jerry Williams i mars, nu Lill Babs.

Kanske är det fler än jag som blir förvånade över att faktiskt känna sorg över hennes bortgång? Något av oss själva har dött och finns inte mer! Kanske så?

Lill Babs Skansen 2016

Lill Babs är en institution i det svenska landskapet, alltid leende och positiv och en hårt arbetande artist, professionell till tusen – genom livets alla strider och kriser. De fanns ju där, striderna, i kulisserna: ensamstående mamma som 16-åring på 50-talet, senare äktenskapen och skilsmässorna, med tiden mamma till tre döttrar och turnélivet… Hon var fortfarande verksam som artist och skådespelare vid sin död!

Lill Babs och rågknäcke och Kalles Kaviar, det var vad jag växte upp med. Det bara fanns där – om jag ville ha det! Som granar och julafton och midsommar och bruna bönor med fläsk och ärtsoppa på torsdagen. Som marken under fötterna och himlen ovan huvudet.

Hennes sorts musik tillhörde inte min favoritmusik (i vuxen ålder), rågknäcke är ju himla gott men mina tarmar revolterar mot rågen (i vuxen ålder) – och kaviar är ju fisk, så det äter jag inte heller (i vuxen ålder). Likväl sitter det där: Lill Babs och knäckebröd och Kalles Kaviar, det är i den svenska folksjälen, så och i min.

New York börsen visade sig samma dag hon dog inte veta skillnaden på svenska flaggan och den schweiziska flaggan, det får man förlåta. Kanske får man också förlåta skrytmojen Zlatan, som tror att det var han och inte Björn Borg eller ABBA eller August Strindberg eller Alfred Nobel eller Svenska Akademin eller Selma Lagerlöf eller… ”you name it!” som satte ”Sverige” på kartan! Osvensk till tusen, man gillar honom eller inte – likt förbannat är han en del av nuvarande konceptet ”det svenska”. De ödmjuka – men likväl stora – artisterna finns inte mer. Och 50-talet är som en annan värld, borta.

Det supersvenska Kalles Kaviar är norskt numera! Jo, men det visste jag och det har jag smält – om det än givit mig IBS symtom, dock inte lika mycket som kinesiska rödmyror i svenska företag och högskolor.

Carl Ameln 1954

Vad jag inte visste var att den lille grabben Kalle på kaviartuberna fanns på riktigt! Carl Ameln, före detta företagare – som farsan hans en gång. Numera bliven 70 år och självlärd konstnär med en kommande utställning nu i april. Livet går vidare – ”ett ögonblick i sänder”! Fjärilar…

 

Before is no more

Lill Babs (Barbro Svensson 1955

When yesterday, Tuesday 3 March, media reported that the Swedish singer Lill Babs had died the same morning at age 80, I realized for the first time that the Swedish rye crispbread “Wasa Knäckebröd” is not Swedish anymore. And that my days also are counted. Time has flown past me. And it feels so bad! I drink peppermint tea today trying to get over it.

Yes, I’m at that age (I’ll be 69 years in April) when well-known and contemporary people and phenomena that have always been around me have “passed on” as it’s so nicely is called – Jerry Williams in March and now Lill Babs.

Maybe more people than me are surprised now to actually experience sadness about her passing away? Something of ourselves has died and is no more! Maybe so?

Lill Babs is an institution in the Swedish landscape, always smiling and positive minded she was and a very hardworking artist, 100% professional – through all the crises of life. They were such, crises and struggles – unmarried mom at age 16 in the 50s, and later marriages and divorces. With time she became mom to three girls – and she was always on tour – while “grandma” looked after the family. She was still active as an artist and actor at the time of her death.

Lill Babs and “Wasa Husman” and “Kalles Kaviar”, such I grew up with. It simply were there – if I wanted it! Like firs and Christmas Eve and Midsummer and dishes like brown beans with pork and pea soup on Thursdays. Like the ground under the feet and the sky above the head.

Well true, her kind of music is not my favorite music (as an adult), rye crisp bread taste good, but my intestines revolt against it (as an adult) – and caviar is fish, so I don’t eat that either (as an adult). Nevertheless: Lill Babs and rye crackers and “Kalles Kaviar”, it’s all in the special national Swedish soul, so in mine.

The New York Stock Market appeared the same day she died not know the difference between the Swedish flag and the Swiss flag. It can be forgiven! Small countries, you know! Perhaps one can also forgive the cocky Zlatan, who seems to thinks he was one who put “Sweden” on the world map, and not Björn Borg or ABBA or August Strindberg or Alfred Nobel or the Swedish Academy or Selma Lagerlöf or … “you name it!”  Un-swedish to the highest level can be, and one may like him or not – whatever, he is a part of the current concept of “the Swedish”. Those humble – but great – artists are no more. And the 50’s I grew up in is now like another ancient world, gone.

The super Swedish label “Kalles Kaviar” is Norwegian owned now! Yes, I already knew that and have melted – if so with some IBS problems, but not as much as from knowing about the Chinese red ants in Swedish companies and colleges!

What I didn’t know was that image of the little boy on the caviar tubes was from a photo of a real boy! Former entrepreneur – like his father once was, nowadays a 70 years old man and a self-taught artist with an upcoming exhibition now in April. Life goes on – a moment at a time! Butterflies, we are…

Swedish painter Carl Ameln

http://www.ameln.nu/

expressen.se/gt/kalles-kaviar-fyller-60–har-ar-hans-liv-i-bilder/

 

A tune by Quincy Jones, dedicated to Barbro. They were friends since decades back.

Posted in become old, create life, cultures, love story, memories, missing, Sweden view, Swedish artists, Swedish conditions, Swedish souls | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

An orderly reception, a proposal for how to seek asylum in Sweden

The government in Sweden today is led by the veteran Social Democratic Party (founded 1889) in a coalition with the minor Miljöpartiet (The Green)(founded 1981). This supporting party has been forced to refrain from many of its main issues, not least the ambitions for a liberal refugee policy. The relationship has suffocated the small environmental party and it’s expected not to pass the 4% barrier and get a seat in the parliament after the elections in September this year.

There seems to be miserly with the oxygen in the present Sweden today for the small ones.

In the world we are only a small country with a small population.

By 2017 we became over 10 million citizens in Sweden, 1,9 million of them are born abroad.

By 2015, Sweden had 24 inhabitants / km² (lakes and streams not counted), which is comparable to the average population density of 56 inhabitants / km² (whole area except Antarctica) at this time.

2015, Europe experienced what its governments came to name as “the refugee crisis”. And the Government of Sweden and our primeminister Stefan Löfven experienced the country as overcrowded.

Swedish Prime Minister Stefan Löfven

Stefan Löfven was once recruited from the Union Movement. Never a politician before but he was for many years a skilled work negotiator in a trade union, trained to come to a consensus between stand holders. Sudden becoming a politician and the prime minister he took this mediation ambitions with him: far from his predecessor, the conflict-causing Olof Palme, far from wanting to change the society towards increased equality but focused on preserving the welfare system achieved.

He gave his political agenda the motto “ordning och reda”. It’s an old-fashioned popular working class saying, hard to translate as it is a tautology. But it means “to keep things orderly with no fussing around”, “orderly and clarity”. That’s what we Swedes like, namely. Peace between different stakeholders and no mess.

Now, the prime minister chew this motto all the time giving statements. It has replaced old fashion ideals for a working class movement like “solidarity” and “freedom, equality and brotherhood”. And the members of his staff repeat it after him. All the time! And they don’t know how to smile either.

It’s like we have had too much of past generations patiently built welfare system and now suffer of a heartburn – because we (are expected to) fear others want to come to share.

What once was matters of our working-class hearts are now how to dose bicarbonate.

In practice we have no working class party in Sweden any longer. And the Ministers in the current government demonstrate it in their acting over and over again, like the Finance Minister, Trade Minister, Social Affairs Minister…

Labor and integration minister Ylva Johansson with the presented investigation “Ett ordnat mottagande” (an orderly reception)

And then we have this woman Minister of Labor and Employment, Ylva Johansson! She showed her true colors earlier this year by declare the necessity to restrict the right for the labor unions to strike. This after a very long and infected working conflict between two unions and a Danish employer in the Port of Gothenburg – but she is still a Minister in a government of the labor movement. (Once was…) Now she is in focus again, presenting a state investigation appointed by the government Löfven appointed a “reception inquiry” during the refugee crisis 2015 and on Wednesday it was ready to be presented.

Investigator Martin Olauzon proposes setting up state arrival centers “where all applicants have an orderly meeting with Sweden.” There, authorities and other important actors will be in place so that everything goes smoothly and quickly: the asylum process, Sweden orientation, validation, health investigation.

All asylum seekers will have their first 30 days in a state housing. If an asylum seeker are expected to have good chances being granted asylum, he or she can then look for a housing and living on the own. But if expected to have small chances of asylum, the applier must remain in this state housing. If given a rejection decision, the person is then transported to another state residence, there to be expelled from the country.

What is the difference between forced state housing and detention?

What happens in Sweden? Trump talked about it. Sweden will do it.

 

 

 

 

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Spring, and I felt like a tapped maple tree

Spring and I felt like a tapped maple tree (after the bloating).

Spring said last week “I’m coming”, but I felt lowered like a tapped maple tree (past two weeks of poor bloating). The nights are still cold and therefore the meteorologists claims “no spring in sight, winter remains”. But we know better, don’t we! Your eyes see the streets are ice free, your ears hear the purling in sewers from the water of melting snow. The snow remains at the roadsides, yes – but looks so very flat and shrunken and done! Winter time is out!

Raise your head and see the clear blue sky! Amazing! And the sun warms your body and you must button up your coat, there you are at the bus stop to next destination. It is spring alright!

But my body feels worn out and my legs are a bit shaky and my bowels are still weak and vulnerable after two weeks of malfunction. A stomach flu is a killer, even if it not kills you.

The advices online are killers too. I read apple cider vinegar can help your bowels. One or two tablespoon in a glass of water, so you are told. Wisely I took only one – wisely I instant spit out.

It would have burn my food pipe – in time! The blogs online tells you to drink it every day and then at time increase the doses. That is not only wrong and sick advices. It will damage your trout.

If you got problems with your bowels, try one teaspoon apple cider vinegar in one cup of water (about 250 to 300 ml. In less a day your bowels will be cured, although your body may still be weak after the days of sickness.

I have been drinking this solution now, one teaspoon to a cup water (or 250 – 300 ml) since Friday. As I then realized I would have to get an appointment at the doctor’s office this Monday, if I wouldn’t recover during the weekend. But the relief in my bowels came immediately. I’m still weak, but not sick.

But again: never swallow one or two tablespoons in one glass of water, please! Remember you can clean your toilet and coffee percolator with a mix of water and vinegar! Would you really want to pour such mixture down your food pipe? No, that would be crazy! One teaspoon to a cup, no more!

I haven’t figure out the cause to my illness. I suspect a soya food intolerance. Maybe it was a stomach virus or a malicious ulcer bacterium, or the whole sudden change in the diet…

…or a psychological thing as sudden becoming a member in a exercising group for diabetics at the health care center: about ten overaged native Swedes in the same small room is certainly more than I can deal with. Maybe it simply was the change from winter to spring, as the season changes never comes easy on people. Maybe…

Anyway, I felt after the sickness like a tapped sugar maple. All drained up. This parable came for me as I, a diligent net surfer and food freak, checked up maple syrup and saw this brutal rape image on a tree. Did you know it takes 60 liters of sap to produce one liter of syrup? That’s not sensible. Really!

Nowadays, we search the web for knowledge, it’s more or less our daily life. And it’s a two-edged sword, this tool we have. It’s not only fake news that can mix up your head, but also all this overwhelming “information” – as for example: what is healthy for you and what to eat and how to live your life.

I have for my own part surf the net about food and about stomachs, ending up too often – by the search engines! – at blogs by young and enthusiastic food bloggers. Well, I try sometimes to determine those writers legitimacy. But whether I instant scroll further or stay for a while reading and checking the site: it’s mostly wasted time.

Blogs are fantastic, a tool available for everyone, but they are both blessings and curses. As far I can judge the majority of all us bloggers our only qualifications are the enthusiasm – and it’s charming of course, if you are a slim and pretty girl of 25. (Why do they all look like fashion models in their “about me” I always ask myself bitterly? Oh, I’m of course just an old grumpy lady, revealed! Yes, yes…!)

Yes well, some of all those enthusiastic young women tells they are trained nutritionists – and life coaches. From this information given I have come to the conclusion it must be a very muddled and trendy addicted training, too depending on different “schools” – not to rely on too much!

You have to evaluate everything you read online and then you have to chat with your own common sense, what to believe in! Take it with a pinch of salt!

Doctor Bircher Benner 1867 – 1939

But what about the sweetness in life? Going vegan now I can sense a craving for sweets, that’s new for me – and certainly unwanted! So far I’ve been able to manage my coffee breaks with peanut butter and unsweetened strawberry jam on rice crackers, but will I next fall in the honeytrap?!

“Alternative” sweetness in Sweden is mostly honey and Birch tree syrup, nowadays synthetic made under the name xylitol. I have never tasted maple syrup, as it’s a relatively “new” product for the Swedes. And I’m an old-time puritan vegetarian, suspicious to camouflaged candy. It’s coming big here. But I’m armed, having an old book about the Bircher Benner diet as antidote, reading in my bed at nights before sleep!

The boomers, now the new retirees’, threats the welfare system as too many of us are expected to become as old as age hundred years or more. But the young hedonistic vegans of today, being in their 20s or early 30s, love to munching yummy desserts every day! I believe they will hardly live much more than to see their 60’s and then die, bang bang! Maybe all this lotus-eating on every blog is a youth rebellion?

Although introvert and lacking social skills, the Swedes are very open-minded to food from other countries. Swedes are obsessed with food diets and recipes. We love Italian pizza, American burgers and Russian blinis – and now we try out American pancakes even with the syrup!

And we Swedes are simply crazy about (create) food blogs with recipes promising happiness and health – and as I already have written: you have to read those blogs with a pinch of salt. What you read there are mostly myths about food and health!

sugar, fat and dairy free fruit gummy bears

If you put on the TV in Sweden and zap between the channels –  on five of ten channels there stands an idiot cooking something and people around him/her are offered testing it and do it with groaning “umh, umh”… It’s disgusting! Oh God! Switch it off!

But the public swallow it, so we must really be starving of “real life”. Overfed and undernourished, some tells!

But for the soul, all you have to do is switch TV channel again and there: a self-appointed lifestyle coach sits in the TV couch making a living talking about “mindfulness”. Those slim, slimy smiling kinds who look into the camera and at you and tell you that you must learn to breathe!

They take my breath away, these swindlers! Making millions and living in luxury villas. And they tell you it is a goal for everyone to strive for personal satisfaction and happiness!

I think Sweden is the most secular country in the world – and with no religion you have a gap in you to fill with something: food for example! If you eat “right” you will not only find physical health, you will be happy too. Nutrition is the big thing in Sweden, replacing religious faith and God himself.

My son claims when the food industry in USA want to try a new product for the own market, like protein powder or whatever can be, they try it out first in Sweden and on the Swedish population. If the Swedes buy the product, then it’s profitable for selling.

Nutrition is the big thing, if the market can’t sell you “happy” pigs – they can sell you green substitute, promising this will make you happy and fulfilled. Yes, if the market can’t sell a “happy” baby pig that would love to be slaughtered for you, it can sell you “green alternatives” with thousand percent in surcharge, because it’s “organic”.

But you are not an animal lost for food production, as a customer you can take a step back and make your choices. You have the power to do it, if you want it!

You may not know this, but trees are also people. Well, at least there are those who experience trees are connected to our souls and trees have in all times been objects of worshipping. It’s called dendrolatry.

No, I’m not a believer, it’s that pic of the maple tree haunting me…  Anyway, “everyone” agrees on without trees and forests, there will be no life for us humans on this earth. Think about it!

Below: Jerry Williams born Sven Erik Fernström April 15, 1942 – 25 March 2018
And what would life be without feeding your soul with music? This last Sunday 25th of March, the Swedish rock legend Jerry Williams died at age 75. He was raised in a working class family and growing up he began to work as a plumber. He pretty soon could abandon the plumbing work for the love of American rock music, becoming a singer to his last days. He never abandoned his roots. And he died with his boots on. Literally.

I don’t know if he ever cleaned the pipes with apple cider vinegar. All I know he kept his private life very private, but he never hide he was a communist through life even he with time become rich by his music career, and he loved German Shepherd dogs, motorbikes and bodybuilding. His cover of  “Working class hero” is the best cover ever made, no doubt! As he knew it all deep down in his soul.

and this is not bad either, it is from last year, he’s going 74 years old man at the time, respect man!:

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About the kind of food we buy


It’s now a bit over a month since I watched on Swedish Broadcast TVs website the German documentary ”The Milk System” and then wrote an entry about it (posted February 11th).And I changed my diet… As I didn’t want to be a part of such cruel exploitation of cows.

This entry is a follow-up.

I have been lacto-vegetarian over 40 years, so I thought it would only be a minor change to go vegan. I really didn’t expect any consequences for my body or life style caused of this change of my diet, apart I would have to do some “adjustments” in shopping and cooking. My focus was simply on what kind of food that is ethically and politically defensible to buy.

So it was for me not about if milk and cheese are healthy food products for humans or not. The problem lies at a superior structural level. It’s about multinational companies, mass production of food at the lowest possible cost to the highest possible profit. Every glass of milk you enjoy has caused another creature suffering in a disgusting life. Every glass of good tasty milk you drink may make a small-scale farmer in Africa losing his/hers family’s livelihood and forcing the young sons to risk life as boat refugees, trying to find happiness in Europe.

That drink is actually too hard to swallow, so I said “take this cup from me”!

I phased out all dairy products from cow and had my last plate of yoghurt this week… Well, actually I thought I had eat my last plate of yoghurt this Monday. But having a dinner with corn (that I had not eat for years, because of all talk about GMO) my bowels just knocked me down  and I had to buy yoghurt – that kind with living bacterial culture – and spend a whole day in bed and feeling “the day after” the next day after (minus headache)…

I had thought it would be a “minor change” for my body. But my body though didn’t agree at first -and still don’t agree – I simply made the change too fast.

Yet, this past month has showed some interesting results.

Firstly, some days I forgot to eat my breakfast after taking my daily insulin doses as not being hungry. Being diabetics on insulin that is not good and my blood sugar went crazy, from too low to too high. I had to focus and keep an eye on the clock and eat every third hour and check the blood sugar level more carefully.

Secondly: doing that I got things under control, yet I had to lower my insulin doses! And now these last day I have lower the doses once again! That is very interesting outcome, actually!

Thirdly: in a month I’ve lost 3 kg = 6,6 lbs. That is very happy outcome: I’m overweight and failed for years to lose weight. I hope for more weight lose! 🙂

For the forth: a diet change – any kind – cost initially more and recover more time planning shopping and in the store (find the products and read ingredients list). It was certainly not “a minor change” in that aspect either to go from 100% lacto vegetarian to a 90% vegan diet. (But I believe the time and cost will level out with time.)

Fifthly, I have noticed my perception of myself, people around and the (food) world has changed, but this is a more diffuse change and not so easy to describe as a change in blood sugar curve or a weight loss or a higher food cost. To become (almost) vegan, you sudden belongs to a certain group of (odd) people in minority, while all others) are the “normal” ones. 😦

Well, it was the same when I became lacto-vegetarian over 40 years ago. 🙂 But things has change for the better: you can get vegan food at restaurants, hospitals and working places nowadays. But the bad is vegetarian and organic food has also been commercialized. A flora of expensive vitamin supplements and nutritional replacements confuses consumers seeking alternatives. And for example a can of white beans for omnivores cost a dollar. Almost the same product claimed to be a health product will cost you 40 – 50 dollars. It’s just crazy!

I’m not a strictly vegan but a lacto vegetarian with strict restrictions, i.e. I do not buy any products containing milk or cheese from cows and not “egg-powder” from hens. I eat a vegan diet supplemented with products made of milk from goats and cheeps coming from small-scale dairies in Greece imported to Sweden by a little family company. And I try to find something that can replaced the kind of yoghurt with a live bacterial culture my weak bowels needs. Concrete: I have 100 gram yoghurt to my breakfast and 50 gram Feta cheese for dinner. For the rest I eat strictly vegan.

I’m not against using animals in small-scale farming, if it not means to change the specie with selected breeding and exploit the animal in an abnormal way. Fully healthy humans don’t need anything from animal bodies for surviving, but people with diseases or lacking fully health may be forced to modify this position. And they should do it, as anything else would be foolishness. Don’t forget all species on this earth use other species for surviving.

And don’t forget humans are animal species too, and many live under conditions as bad as the animals in the food industries. Think of exploitation of children working in slavery in diamond mines, the exploitation of adult line workers in line jobs in factories, think of sex trafficking…

Think of those short-lived cows with abnormally large udders giving 30 liters of milk every day, think of those hens who lay one egg every day until their bodies are worn out after only being over a year, think of the daily mass killing of newborn calves, chickens and goat kids considered to be waste material.

It’s the same paradigm on the structural level in our societies, cruel and horrendous greed – making a very few people richer than is possible, making our democratic chosen politicians to servants to this economic system fearing its powerful lobby workers – and it makes us all to brainwashed consumers.

But you know the saying “you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink.” You have a choice!

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The question

I woke up this morning thinking:
I can’t do this anymore! The question
is only: what is it I can’t do anymore?

Vaknade denna morgon och tänkte:
jag kan inte göra det här mera!
Frågan är bara: vad är det
jag inte kan göra mer?

Posted in create life, lost, poem in Swedish and English, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

The persistent presence of your absence

The persistent presence of your absence:
you are never in my room, but always in
my heart! We are living with longing, you
and I, not with each other such we desire!
Dazzling days, the dark and lonely nights.
Sometimes a long-distance call there we
hardly hear what is said on the noisy line,
still happy to hear the other’s voice. And
all the short and bland SMS, yet the glue!
(There’s been chats with misconceptions
and hard feelings, only to forget you told.)
And time has passed and meanwhile we
have become used to live single lives and
got habits and routines like loners. Now
we share the same fear: will we be able
to develop to become the couple we want
to be in the future that we want to see?

Posted in borders, create life, dreamers, loneliness, loners, longing, missing, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry, rebellious lovers, relationships | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The funny British, around the March 8

To be funny and witty seems to be more important in the British Parliament than be honest and wise. Jokes for one, Brexit for the more – and further, such as Saudi Arabia and China. A clip giving the laughs at Mr. Corbyn in media today. But Ms. May may be a woman and she may be funny, but she was not right. It was not a “mansplaining” by Mr. Corbyn but what she did was that kind of verbal execution men usually expose women to. 

Protest in central London on March 7, 2018

Swedish Prime Minister Stefan Löfven

Yes,  I know! China and Sweden, Saudi Arabia and Sweden. But the Swedish politicians at least looks as they just have swallow something bad. And they do. Over and again. Promote eagerly (arm) trade with undemocratic states and excuse it with it’s “good for the Swedes and the Swedish welfare”, compromises every single citizen in Sweden.

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Zelda’s bad dreams (that came true)

I’ve got dreams, dreams to remember
Many, many dreams
Hard dreams and bad dreams
to remember
I dreamed one day I won’t to be with you
that you were so far away
an air plane could not reach you
I dreamed you got the message
but you still would not come to see me
That’s why I say I got dreams,
Dreams to remember
Bad dreams, sweet dreams
Bad dreams, sweet dreams

I dreamed one day
we’re walking down the street,
that a blow came up to you
and grab you away from me
I dreamed you just turned
you away, walked on away
with it and it hurt me
That’s why I got dreams,
dreams to remember
Many, many, many dreams
dreams to remember
Bad dreams, sweet dreams
Hard dreams, lovely dreams…

(Long dreams, tall dreams all alone,
I go to remember)
I’ve been crying all night,
weep to the morning girl, yeah
Help me to remember

(Sweet, sweet dreams
sweet dreams, yeah girl
I got to remember
Take me away, take me away
take me away, I don’t won’t to remember…)

(Take me away, take me away…)

(Alternative version, Zelda’s version of the song “I got dreams to remember”, available on Youtube in a few videos, among them as illustrating TV serial “The Leftovers”: youtube.com/watch?v=DZVakYmNkMA
and:
youtube.com/watch?v=k5q9VgQrmyE

Zelda, March 20,1962 Birth of daughter Karla

karla redding zelda redding 2011

 

 

 

 

 

Zelda Redding was born 7 April 1942 in Macon, Georgia and married Otis Redding in August 1961. Four children were born in their marriage. After Otis’ death in 1967 she never remarried.

Zelda Redding with her four children with Big O

 

 

Posted in copied lyrics, create life, dreamers, inspiring music, inspiring picture, inspiring songs, love story, poems by vonnely | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

When traveling with a Chinese high-speed train we all look the same

February 28: 

The Swedish Tax Agency changed on February 28 the name of Taiwan to “a province in China”. The outcome for us all we may see. I.e. if we then are still free to see! I fear the worst!

On a concrete and personal level nearest,  people connected to Sweden living in Taiwan can get problems as snail mail from authorities and others in Sweden to private persons can end up in China – and then probably disappear. As there’s certainly no province in China named “Taiwan”. And the state of China … well! You can imagine! (But Swedish government officials can’t!)

January 22:

A Hong Kong-based book publisher with Swedish citizenship who was secretly spirited to China and held in custody for two years, igniting international controversy, has disappeared again in dramatic fashion — snatched from a train bound for Beijing under the eyes of two Swedish diplomats.

Quote from New York Times nytimes.com/2018/01/22/world/asia/china-police-bookseller-train-gui-minhai.html

The Foreign Ministry called China’s ambassador for a “talk” . The reaction in China became extremely powerful and dramatic. Since then the official Sweden has put the lid on any comments – of anything about China.

January:

Scientists in China who created the world’s first cloned monkeys have promised that they do not plan to repeat technology with people.

Quote from bbc.com/news/health-42809445   from January 23 2018

They do not have to, they just sent people to training camps for years. And it succeed so well, just look at  Xi Jinping himself. He is the result of it, trained during send at age 15 for 7 years “re-education”. Source: bbc.com/news/world-asia-pacific-11551399

February 18

Foreign Minister Margot Wallström only mention China in two lines in her declaration of Sweden’s foreign policy for 2018

Our relations with China are extensive. The country’s role in the world is growing, and with this comes greater responsibility, including protection of human rights.

government.se/speeches/2018/02/the-governments-statement-of-foreign-policy-2018/

Qiu Qianfang 2012 Taiwan railway trainee

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Train hostess in China
What does she see?

 

 

Sources:
CCN
New York Times
hongkongfp.com/2018/03/05/taiwan-slams-swedish-tax-agency-reclassifies-island-province-china/

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I found a love, I found Gizzelle

Actually I can’t find Gizzelle, except for her performances on videos published on Youtube.

But I have find so much she is also called Lil’ Gizzelle. Her surname is Becerra and she may be a Mexican girl born in Los Angeles, CA, United States. She seems to be pretty unknown, but she have such a powerful voice, she shouldn’t be.

She has released two albums:
Devil or Angel 2008
Rhythm & Soul 2011

She has been (or still are) working for Wild Records. In an interview 2012 I think she say she’s living Wild Records and just going through her second divorce…(Interview on Youtube at the Chit Chat Club 2012, the reporter succeeded to forgot the microphone so the sound is more than terrible.)

2014 her hair goes brownish red and from 2015 she’s a redhead. She has lost a lot of weight at the videos from 2017 and not look the same, but the tattoos and the voice are the same. So it must be her!

I have no problem to find her on Youtube. But on the web she seems to have vanished latest years. Her Facebook site is blank (I don’t have an account but I asked my son to check it up). I already got a feeling sites with information about seems to be emptied, so my curiosity sudden was stuck with a mystery. She’s not been on her Twitter account either since 2012. Maybe she has died?

Well, I just would like to know her age. And if she still work as an artist… Anyone knows? But she can be an object for stalking, that’s why information and photos after about 2012 is hard to find. If so is there is no good idea to give information on a public blog like this one.

This my interest for her started this morning as I listened to Wilson Picket singing “I found a love” and thought it sounded as a Eddie Hinton song. It was not I found out – but I have spend all day reading a lot biographies over different people in the music industry during late 50s and early 60s on the web, it all because of this song “I found a love”. Meanwhile, as listening to it over and over again in different versions, the song started to sound simple and silly (“on what do I spend my time ??”).

That’s when I came to listen to Gizzelle. God, what a voice! And I found love, yes – but nothing more. Talking to my son now in the evening I said: “It seems crazy having spent so much time on such and I further mor – I do it all the time, either I must call it a waste of time or I call it a hobby and keep on with it”. He said thinks it’s a hobby 🙂

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I vintertid, fritt efter Rimbaud

I vintertid färdas mina rosa drömmar vida
till blåa säten i en täckt vagn där kyssar, vilda
göms i varje mjuk vinkel och vrå

Du sluter dina ögon mot isens kyla
mot svarta demoner och vargar som yla
här kan mobbens morranden oss inte nå

Då kittlar en kyss din kind, likt en spindel
den ränner ned mot din hals, du lutar i svindel

Och ropar “fånga den” och vi har gott om tid –
att söka det lilla kryp som färdas så vida

 

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Disgusts! (in Scandinavia today)


Denmark’s government wants to introduce segregation to eradicate segregation. The Danish government has classified 20 residential areas as “ghettos” and to 2030 they want these areas to be gone. The proposed measures put forward are to expropriate housing  and tear them down. Those who now live there and commit crimes are proposed to receive a double prison sentence against those living in neighboring areas, not classified as “ghettos”. The person who moves to an apartment in one of these “ghetto” areas and living on social welfare of any kind are proposed to lose half the contribution. Children of migrants (coming from outside Europe) are proposed to be denied schooling – if they do not undergo a language test in the Danish language and are approved in it …

And the Danes hope to inspire Sweden in the same direction! The only thought make the hair stand on end for a normal Swede! But the Danish have always been happy going fellows with no scruples, not at all alike we withdrawn and stiff Swedes!

Now, one should know that although Sweden’s face outside the country and in the world may seem progressive, human and feministic, having a good reputation for those abroad holding and value humanism – but Sweden has a different face within the country’s borders. We have a Social-Democratic Government, which in practice pursues a right-wing policy with strong conservative values and fully focused on trade policy benefits – even in cooperation with dictatorships. The government’s primary ambition is to “preserve Sweden”, ie. save the welfare system the former generations of social democratic  governments created during many decades of hard work.

This is done by introducing laws and prohibitions and restrictions, such as shut out migrants by closing the borders, denying help to parents with chronically ill children who need 24-hour assistance at home, chasing what they call “contributors frauds” to put those cheaters in prison, etcetera. But okay, the Swedish Finance minister has criticizing tax-evicted millionaires, in passing.

The Sweden’s finance minister urged in the parliament the other day ordinary people not to give money to beggars. Because, as she said, one could by that contribute to eventually trafficking of those people and there are terrible living conditions of beggars victims of that.

(But this was, to be fair to her, a response to a right-populated party’s that called for the government to introduce begging bans in Sweden – which she rejected. However, the Sweden’s finance minister has occasionally before slipped her tongue revealing her ultra-conservative and negative views on vulnerable groups of people, like migrants and beggars from Romania.)

Norway has a right-wing government. Finland is traditionally xenophobic and accepts very little of immigration.

(Both Denmark and Norway’s leading parties are called “Venstre” (The Left) but they are strongly Conservative Social-liberal Parties, why they call themselves “Left”, I don’t know -but it’s confusing.)

Also in Sweden the Right-wing values winds are blowing cold and the debates are characterized by talk for military arming and a revived fear of the “Russian” ghost.

Finland is also traditionally afraid of its Russian neighbor – and in historical terms, it has all reason to be.

Finland urge Sweden to join NATO together with them. Sweden’s Foreign Minister has certainly strongly rejected this. Military strategic, it would be a counterproductive provocation putting the whole area in danger, not only Sweden. But as said, the Russian ghost from the 1950’s “cold war” times has woken up in Sweden. The military is sniffing morning air and requires more and more money and resources, holding press conferences and being very visible in Swedish TV news. And all Swedish parties promise the Military to give all what army want! To keep Sweden safe.

A political investigation initiated by the government about Sweden’s security in an eventually crisis situation, stated in its conclusions that “a war against Sweden can not be ruled out”.

It’s of course the “Russian” ghost again, as usual! But why Putin would have any interest in to invade Sweden, that is a real mystery to me!

But yes, the military forces are being upgraded, a regiment has been reintroduced on the island Gotland – the island is the outermost border east to Russia. We have now 350 guys there to defend us Swedes against Putin!

Great!

Sweden’s television followed up this investigation – that one who’s chairman loudly and much spoked out in media of that a war in the future can not be ruled out (scaring the shit of common people) – with crisis management advice by experts how every citizen is obliged to get ready for a crisis. Every household is now obliged to  have a supply of food that is enough for a week. Water also, 3 liters daily to drink and 15 liters for hygiene.

How to succeed to drink as much as 3 liters of water in one day was not told! Nor was it told how those millions of refugees in under-dimensioned camps out there in other parts of the world, manage to survive with no supply of food or water, healthcare and toilets for months and years.

We Scandinavians have grown up with the consciousness that we live in a human and kind-hearted part of the world. We can forget about that! We are no better than any other terrible inhuman part of the world. Shame on us, shame on Scandinavia! Give us a break, you buttery Danish Viennese pastries!

It has lately been heavily snowing in Sweden, with several days and nights of very strict life-threatening cold. Yesterday (Wednesday) an asylum-seeking woman lost her common sense for reasons unknown by people around. She took her two children and went barefooted and without warm clothes as jackets out into the snow – and disappeared. Some hours later in the night police with searching dogs found them in a nearby forest hill lying in the snow. The woman was dead, but the children were still alive and are now in a hospital with severe frost damages. They were told there their mother is dead.

Stockholm City Mission is working hard and intense day and night and night to provide homeless with blankets and warm clothes and to give them a place to sleep in shelters and churches at nights.

The only thing that really demands us to stock food for a week in Sweden is actually the weather in some winters. And it’s snowing so much and is so cold and the roads are so dangerous to travel that car drivers are asked to stay home and not go to work and some schools are closed because the school buses are canceled. The only ones who resist the cold and the snow are the home care staff serving old people who lives alone and need assistance to get food and comfort. Tire wagons are ready to assist them.

A cold climate can be handled, not a cold heart. Not two frozen children who lost their mother.

Posted in create life, immigrants, living in the world, Mr Putin, poems by vonnely, politics, reading, repression and borders, right wing | Tagged , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Three kind of “missing you” days

I’m struggling with three kinds of “missing you” on a daily basis. There’s a gloomy kind of missing when I have a sickness day and see an ugly and unattractive woman in the bathroom mirror, if in morning or midday or evening and I’m thinking “hell no! It’s only in my head, these romantic ideas, he does not want me, certainly not! I just fool myself”!” (And then I feel worse.)

And sometimes it’s a good day that has no mirrors, when I just smile out in the room every now and then – “because you are!” And I love him for just being, wanting me and loving me – and missing me like I miss him!

And then it is the third kind of “missing you” day when I sudden becomes sad and can’t shake it of me, but just miss him strongly because he’s not there with me. And late at bedtime when I put toothpaste on my toothbrush and incidentally looks up and see a plain-looking woman in the mirror looking back at me… I’m thinking, “Well, that is what he sees and that is what he loves and if he’s okay with it, so am I”. And it’s good, yes! But I’m still sad.

Yet I know I only have a weak day and tomorrow will be another day… Maybe I’ll keep up the courage and trust better tomorrow. It is possible! And this is how we live our life, him and I, a part of each other but still apart, not seeing an end to these “missing you” days. But maybe it is as good as anything?

Posted in afar, dreamers, loners, love poem, missing, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry, walk of life | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Victims or martyrs or heroes?

Florida Feb 17, 2018 protesters call for a reform of gun laws

Some thoughts from an outside person!

Inspired by the latest school shooting in USA (Florida school shooting February 14, 2018) a Swedish newspaper has conducted a peer review among their (Swedish) readers with the question “Do you think it is a right to carry weapons?” 83% answered “no” and 17% answered “yes”. (Source: Svenska Dagbladet 18 February 2018)

This simple survey shows a huge fundamental cultural difference between Swedes and Swedish society and Americans and American society, how common people experience what is a “right” and not.

(Boldly, I suppose that many other European nationalities – to be drastic: perhaps continents – share this lack of understanding of the American experience of what is real and true and right).

For the one living and brought up in another culture and views USA from another continent, it is something odd and strange with the average American’s emotional agony when the talk about the ownership of weapon for private use comes up.

At least, an American should be aware that even if other peoples’ admire them and love their music cultures, the Americans as people can also be considered to be very odd and strange. I don’t want to change anyone, no! But I think it would be a good idea to give it a thought about why that is so!

And as a Swede one is wondering: what on earth is a “private use” be of a weapon? “Private use”?

In Sweden, you have no right to threaten anyone with a gun in the purpose to defend your private property, in home or in store. But you are certainly entitled to use force to defend your own life.

The idea that it is the restriction of personal freedom to prohibit individuals from carry weapons is a cultural assumption of the kind that is deeply rooted in the (American) people’s soul.

But we should all review the collective beliefs that determine our individual identities, no matters what it is about. Why do you get so upset over this, whatever standpoint?

Many critical Americans are in despair over the real possibilities of changing people’s attitudes to the weapons laws.

I guess that’s the attitude people think is impossible to change, this idea of what it mean being a free American citizen? The concept is an overwhelming public perception on everyone’s mind so it can be  easy to fall for such a depressing view. It would be more difficult to clarify for yourself and then to accept that you all are slaves under the ruling economic interests – as in this case the arms industry. You are not free at all – as you are from birth, to dinner table and until your grave yard are run by forceful economical associations that do not even politicians dare to challenge.

As Tracy Chapman state it in a song “all that you have is your soul”.

School shootings in USA (or massacres elsewhere) begin to be in our all cultural patterns – terrible, but we (almost) get used to it! It is a culture pattern that includes strong mental images and photos of dead bodies and crying survivors and drifts of flowers outsides buildings on the last afflicted street – and people gathered to cry together… In helplessness.

But the survivors from the school in Parkland have not accepted to be made to traumatized victims by mass media, only crying and adding flower bouquets at the schoolyard! But they have talked hard and loudly to the media and sought politicians and demanded changes that will prevent more school shootings.

Young people who kept tears back in anger demands changes: this is what they give the media to show to the world. We do not want to be killed!

This is what is given to the media to show, upset teens and parents who demand a change: but a massive bullying in social media question them, slandering them. Some media still do their best try to keep them in place as passive victims. Working hard they got some photos to publish of crying youngsters in despair!

One might think it would be a simple claim from high school students: this to be able to go to school on an everyday without risking being shot or witnessing a massacre. It is a humble request, no one should be able to question.

But if you stand up firmly and bold against the oppression in daily life, you will not get the applause of the mob, but get spat upon and subjected to slander.

This happens now to these group of young surviving students traumatized by witnessing a massacre on their schoolmates and of those grieving parents who lost their children in the shooting.

A massive bully has questioned and violated these victims. It’s terrible and shameful. And why: they refuse to be victims and therefore they are made to martyrs.

“Welcome to reality kids”, Americans say ironically. I do not know if it’s a Trump effect this: that Americans who in past naively believed that “everything is possible” now believes that “nothing is possible”?

But what’s the reality! Is it the haters? Only? Social web haters are focused right on you, to obscure your view and blur your mind. Avoid them by boycott their sites. You don’t have to read that dreadful stuff, i.e. if you don’t wish to make yourself suicidal and extremely unhappy!

“The kids” do not want “likings”, they expect to be heard in order to bring about a change – that children are not murdered during their school day. Simply.

To me, these young people are the reality, even if bad people smear them. Those high school youths are the reality – and the future. Those who mock them for wanting to live safe and not be sacrificed because of ancient times cultural customs, those negative people belongs to the past.

Like other societies, USA has past times that no normal thinking American wants to return to. Those people back then who changed the society received no applause when they refused to be oppressed victims. Remember that! The abstained somehow from the private well-being, but they changed America into a better country.

Just a few examples:

Once upon a time, a teenager (Emmet Till 1955) was murdered for a white woman claiming that he whistled at the street after her. The murderers were released in court, but Emmet’s mother refused closed coffin and showed up her dead son’s massacred head for the visitors at the funeral.

Remember?

Those strange fruits hanging from the trees are the past.

Remember?

Rosa Parks refused to leave her seat on the bus to a white man and was arrested by the police (1955).

Remember?

And remember the integration of black students 1957 “The little rock nine”!

Such segregations and killings in the public areas belongs to the past.

Martin Luther King knew he would be murdered one day but he continued to fight, telling loudly “I have a dream”. (Murdered 1968).

They were all Americans who showed, joined with others with the same kind of visions changes are possible. They were all subjects to oppression but refused to be victims and some became martyrs. For us later living, but still remembering – they appear to be not so much martyrs as our common heroes and role models to admire. There are still racists out there in the dark alleys, yes! But they are not the ones having the legal rights! They have no rights to harass and kill people. No one should be able to!

The Youth of Parkland February 2018: They are today our heroes who show the way to the future.

And do not call them “kids”, it’s a derogatory epithet.

Call them what they are: The Brave Ones! They provide their fingerprints for the posterity.

 

 

Rosa Park

Posted in create life, cultures, dreamers, hope, living in the world, loss, memories, morality, visionaries, web papers | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Flesh

It’s snowing again and not even an eager little tit turns out to say a chirp. I wash my hair and think about your penis. Yet it’s not so hard lately, that sex thing. It comes and goes, the need. But I dislike being without it, as I think it’s unhealthy. I’m no health advocate, no!  I would be happy living a simple life with you and stay being a lacto-vegetarian. But the latter is not possible for me any longer – because on the ruling level, masses of living creatures are ruthlessly and cruelty exploited and killed in multinational factory productions. It’s horror and a disgrace for humanity and I can’t be a part of it anymore. It’s not about giving people food, it’s just reckless greed, killing our earth.

That is why I have to change my private life style. This new thing I’m going in to, to become almost hundred vegan – it is harder than I imagined. And how will it be for you?  You can’t live with me and be an omnivore! Certainly can’t any animals’ body parts ever be found in my/our fridge – and from now you will not even found cheese or milk there! Except for Feta.

my cat

Yes, I’ve read about goat kids being killed and burned shortly after birth only for the exploitation of the milk for food production! But I’m not a hard core vegan. Could one not make cat food of them, I wonder quietly? (The idea to make house cats to vegans is animal cruelty, even if you are disgusted of meat eating yourself, cats are carnivores – humans are not.) A goat is still an animal as nature created it and that’s the cornerstone in holding domestic animals for utility. So I buy Feta but only from a smaller Swedish family business, getting it’s products from free range cheeps and goats in Greece. The animals eat grass and live a free life in a pastoral idyll – and me, I have diabetes and must hold a strict low carbohydrate diet, I think it’s a fair deal. (I will never become a sectarian, I’m too much free spirit for that!)

It’s still snowing again and now I’m drinking my coffee while my hair dries and I think of you – as always! What are you doing today? How is your mother doing? What will future bring us (all)? The snowing out my windows seems to never end, but I have to leave home and get out there in the snow to buy me groceries – all the different levels of life coming together. Yes, all the levels in a society converges in the life of an individual. So it do in my body and my mind, all while the snowing goes on and my thoughts are with you. People ask “do you really believe what you do/think/say/write means anything or change anything?” Yes, I do! Except for those days I am depressed. And I prefer not to be, if you don’t mind!

Posted in animal rights, living in the world, poems by vonnely, Poetry, politics | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A perfect woman’s dilemma

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Through the sound of murmuring voices from people in audiences who talk and walk and eat and dance and maybe don’t care of anything that matters strong voices sings from the big scenes of the world and they sing and sing again about “A Change Gonna Come” and they do it time after time.

I want so much to believe in those pious singers strong willpower and confidence – as we all know faith can move mountains and the heavy is to be trusty and not those bunches of stone masses.

But he and I, we both know deep inside our dream of to get together is a naive desire that maybe never will come true.

And sometimes a secret whistle in me plays a doubting and reproachful tune, telling me it’s so very wrong and selfish of me to let him stay with me and to allow him to dream of a life with me – when he truly for his better welfare could find love and a real life elsewhere, not wasting his time on me.

But I understand the choice is his and I have to step back and pay him the respect to decide what is right for him. And he mean seriously, so he told me – it’s me and nothing less than me! It’s stunning and I’m amazed!

And I try to embrace it! But still stays this worrying whistle in me. I know it’s my problem and not his and I surely want to keep him safe from it. But it is not that easy to try to be a perfect dream woman.

 

 

 

 

Inspired by Bess Greenberg’s voice, the lyric in the song and the sounds from the environment in which the video was recorded.  “When it’s not comes easy” (written by Patty Griffin).

Posted in dreamers, inspiring music, inspiring songs, longing, love poem, love story, music video with lyrics, poems by vonnely, Poetry, prose poem | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Incurable love

It’s so easy to fall in love!
It’s a bit harder to find love.
Hardest of all is to realize you
are loved and live with it without
freaking out. Why you, I ask myself?
You’re everything I’m not and you
have at times made me so angry –
but I don’t want to think about that
more! But you didn’t stop to love me!
Sometimes I fear you understands me!
I have almost got used to the miracle
you loves me. Why me, I ask myself?
Somehow, you’re my heart’s desire.
It is what it is – simply incurable!

Posted in Attraction, love poem, poem, poems by vonnely, Poetry | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment