Category Archives: prose poem

Long distance heating

This apartment I have, it’s too hot all through the summer. In the fall when the first cold hits outdoors, the temperature drops to normal indoors. Yet it never pleases me, but make me feel uneasy and frozen in the … Continue reading

Posted in Attraction, borders, create life, dreamers, loss, lost, love poem, love story, poems by vonnely, prose poem, sadness, secret love, Sweden view, Swedish conditions | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Ride the river in this boat

(Sometimes I’m all mixed up, tottered between longing love and resentment, Paradise in Hell.) Woke up this morning realizing I have opened a line, giving a tool through which he can continue to treat me with his old habitual manner … Continue reading

Posted in borders, dreamers, inspiring music, loneliness, loss, love poem, maturity, obstacles, poems, poems by vonnely, Poetry, prose poem, sadness, secret love, walk of life, walls, with or without you, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Lemon love

  The same selfish man you have rejected, he doesn’t miss you at all. No, he just checkup you now and then, wondering if you say something blameful about him to others. His selfish pride cannot bear that thought. He … Continue reading

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The Fox (Nostalgia)

  In evenings, just when the first darkness falls and humans not sleep yet and he’s just began his nightly round, since his growling intestines forces him out from one of his temporary hiding places, he becomes standing for a … Continue reading

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On May 31 1941 it was too late for Margot

Karin Boye Oct 26, 1900 – April 24 1941 Margot Edman born Hanel, April 12, 1912 – May 30, 1941             The day after it’s too late to regret neglect, to regret ostracism. Margot Hanel’s … Continue reading

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Togetherness

                  Each opinion having more than two adherents becomes a group, which soon enough creates a set of rules and rituals to promote the group’s survival and then a strictly worded creed … Continue reading

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No, nothing happened in Sweden last Friday

      I spend all my days at the laptop writing, reading web papers, chats with people but as far I know: No, nothing happened in Sweden last Friday! Yes, our world is an arena for villains – where … Continue reading

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A random song heard on the radio

          All what it takes to get your armor “I’m doing well”-impression to fall into pieces is a random song sudden heard on the radio or TV – and a wound you had forgotten about starts … Continue reading

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Honey in my tea (missing a friend)

Dealing with you I needed honey in my tea. Missing you was unexpected – and not even a possibility. I think I better give up see any sense in my heart’s all desires. Strictly – this heart belongs to an … Continue reading

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Oh, these women body troubles!

  Oh, this women troubles – I surely have them too – and how to free oneself for them! It follows a girl her whole life from age 5 to 85. My female body obviously don’t look as desirable as … Continue reading

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Blushing rowan trees

Now comes August. The days gets shorter, the nights darker. The rowan trees on my yard blushes again. I have lived at same courtyard for 8 years now and seen the trees redden in the end of July, reminding me … Continue reading

Posted in poem in Swedish and English, poem in Swedish translated to English, poems by vonnely, prose poem | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Nothing special has happened

Delayed day. I haven’t dined yet and I’m really hungry. I’m just coming out from the grocery shop carrying a weighty plastic bag. And it became a bit weighty day, yes! A look at sky – heavy heaven, deeply dark … Continue reading

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The lilac arbours are gone, Brussels March 22, 2016

                In the 50s when I was a child, the world seemed graspable and safe. It was surely a class society, but people did not expect equality in practice back then. But yet … Continue reading

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Lonely Saturday evening walk with thousands

(In English below) När jordens varma möter natthimlens kalla, dansar älvorna på ängen här bortom. Men jag vandrar de regniga blanksvarta gångarna nära hyreshusen i området där jag lever mitt liv. Jag passerar fönster där vardagsrummens trygga gula lampljus möter … Continue reading

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Walking my right foot (living with chronic pains)

I like walks. And I have never been able to be in a room full of loud and chattering people, without feeling uncomfortable and wanting to just walk away. And I have done that. I have walked my own ways. … Continue reading

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November dusk

(Days with Tennyson, after computer crash and death.)) November this year is so soft and cosy! It’s like being wrapped up in silver grey velvet. For me the month began with I was cast away from my  daily routines. I could … Continue reading

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A beautiful October day

October sun and blue sky, country road and my cycle wheels silent spin, golden leaves on trees and ground and a scent of pine and forest. I’m on my way home from the bird lake with its cacophony of screaming … Continue reading

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Reposted: Male fantasies and fairies in ancient woods

 First posted 24 September, 2012. Slightly improved. I (Mistress of the wood “skogsrået”) They were men who came from vast plains, desolate deserts, and endless seas. Their eyes measured distances. But they didn’t know themselves. And the woodlands affected them … Continue reading

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Smiling face, sad heart

Enchanted by his sweet words she gave her heart so easily away, only to see him withdraw and become distant to her. Now she see herself standing empty handed and him fade away, and she feels humiliated and denied like … Continue reading

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…and she loved him so much…

(The following is a story I wrote 2012, rewrite 2013, and now I’ve rewritten it again … ) He left her. She didn’t die. As she had feared she would do. Time just moved on and so did she. One day, half … Continue reading

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The forest lake / Skogsjön

One sunny summer day we walked past the farmer’s house and down the slope where the barn was, went left and through a little cow pasture, where some cows lay peacefully ruminating. We went through the grove behind the pasture … Continue reading

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To see Naples and not die

(Inspired by a true story and the saying “See Naples and die”) He is not that young anymore, far over 30 but looks like 22, fine-boned and with a cute face that gets men – but not women – on … Continue reading

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It’s nothing, it’s nonsense…

Having craftsmen in the house for weeks, it’s like get a taste of hell. I long for every next weekend and when it comes, the silence spreads out in my rooms and suck up all air in deep breaths leaving … Continue reading

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My cosy loneliness in the democratic welfare state…

It’s March 2 already and it’s another quiet Sunday, dull and grey. I still have that vague sense of derealisation. In afternoon it eases up a bit by the phone calls to my  closest. But the connection to my friend … Continue reading

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Love has no limits

Love has no limits, only people have. Humans may have an orientation, but love has not. You can never ever control love. Love exceeds gender and race and generations and cultures and languages and nations or any obstacles that may … Continue reading

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Why bother…

            Why do you bother what people think or say – so I’ve been told over the years. It’s still the same, but nowadays I don’t bother so much about it. I guess you who … Continue reading

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Awake at 5am

It makes me crazy to wake up again at five am and not be able to go back to sleep; it’s always something, it’s a dream bland still worrying, it’s late soothing tea now stress the bladder, it’s the newspaper … Continue reading

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Rosa novemberljus (på dig tänker jag alltid)

Det börjar mörkna redan efter tre på eftermiddagen. När jag cyklar till Ica Supermarket vilar ett skimrande rosa ljus över gator och bilar och stadsbussar och hus och människor. Men allt  bundet till marken tycks avvisa detta vackra eftermiddagsljus, även … Continue reading

Posted in Autumn poem, poem by vonnely, Poem in Swedish, Poetry, prose poem | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

The day after the storm

A storm swept over southern Sweden last Sunday in October. The hem of her skirt touched my town. She cured me from my sleeping problems the latest nights. I slept well all night lulled by the noise from her wild … Continue reading

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I’m nothing but a potsherd in your hand

Honey! I’m nothing, just a potsherd, once hidden deep in soil for generations, and only by accident dug up and exposed on the ground in front of your feet. I could have remained undiscovered by you, and you could have … Continue reading

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