Else Cederborg

Else Cederborg Poems

Passions pounding like fists of vengeance
torturing the helpless heart of love
all the time these cruel passions cry out:
'You hit me! ' they yell. 'Cruel heart!

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?

Dangling from nowhere
flapping non-existent wings
even moving in airy clouds
no foothold, but still, quite safe

This pulse, this life
that's what it's about
blood rushing, going at a speed
steering me into complicity with passions

How come?
A thief in my pocket
another one in my purse
not to speak of the one invading my account

A parcel, you said
for you and nobody else
wrapped in blue
tied with a pink ribbon

Walking in and out
back and forth
stumbling, falling, dancing, running
looking for loop holes into Space

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

Many-coloured dreams this night
all of them soared high
only I stayed behind

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

Hello there!
somewhere something is crying out
I wonder to whom

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

A joke, you said
hearts aflame for fun?
Burnt to cinders as a joke?
Yes, you're right, let me stew your heart

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

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

His gaze traced what was him
himself and his to hold and to offer
all of it called 'a frame'
something not his was clinging to his heart

Day kisses lack darkness
lack dreamy mysteries
night kisses turn sensations into arrows
the bow vibrating from the shot long after

One day I saw a flame
it wasn't in a fireplace
it didn't lick your house to shreds
no, it built up inside

Else Cederborg Biography

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.)

The Best Poem Of Else Cederborg

Death Of A Heart

Passions pounding like fists of vengeance
torturing the helpless heart of love
all the time these cruel passions cry out:
'You hit me! ' they yell. 'Cruel heart!
You are the murderer, not I.'
The poor heart slacks down with fright
all of a sudden it even succumbs
the death of a heart isn't mourned
only the demise of passions

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