I have published several scholarly works, e.g. on Karen Blixen/Isak Dinesen. Also I have published 57 articles for Ezine.
Recently I started to publish poems, short stories, fables and novels, some of it in English (with AuthorHouse) , but most of it in Danish (with SAXO) . I seem to be in a flush as it just keep coming - and I love it. more »
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Else Cederborg Poems
Magic Coat Of Feathers
I took out my magic coat of feathers not only to fly high above any earth bound worms on feet or to descend as a bird of prey to feast on these neighbours of mine to devour what they set highest: their weak and shapeless bodies
One thing is for sure I'm not the 'me' you know neither are you the one I know all of us live in a Twilight Zone of 'I''s
A joke, you said hearts aflame for fun? Burnt to cinders as a joke? Yes, you're right, let me stew your heart
All the waves caress her young body at will dead in waters, tumbled like sea weed washed ashore, a soulless object with no will the little waves lick her body like lovers
Hello there! Hi.... somewhere something is crying out I wonder to whom
Evilness Came To See Me
Evilness came to see me she was followed by her friend, Ms Pain 'Are you in, dear? ' they yelled I kept quiet, hiding in the cupboard
Many-coloured dreams this night all of them soared high only I stayed behind
The darkness holds each of us tight in darkness we are being cradled held close like in the tender arms of a lover or maybe the arms of our mothers, long ago
In A Nut Shell
Walking in and out back and forth stumbling, falling, dancing, running looking for loop holes into Space
A parcel, you said for you and nobody else wrapped in blue tied with a pink ribbon
How come? A thief in my pocket another one in my purse not to speak of the one invading my account
Pulses Of Life
This pulse, this life that's what it's about blood rushing, going at a speed steering me into complicity with passions
Dangling from nowhere flapping non-existent wings even moving in airy clouds no foothold, but still, quite safe
The kisses of the day lack darkness Nights turn kisses into little arrows the bow is still vibrant from the shot Was this what I wanted, this passion?
Comments about Else Cederborg
The kisses of the day lack darkness
Nights turn kisses into little arrows
the bow is still vibrant from the shot
Was this what I wanted, this passion?
How am I to tell?
It didn't ask, it just moved in
there it was, all alive
an unexpected lodger in the home called me