Nöcken

Ho snuffla innover i heia
førd  avgarde av
ei kjensle
som berre vaks
jo nærare ho kom
det vesle
tjernet
kransa med
kvite
vassliljer


ho satte seg
ner på
huk og
stirra ner
i det grøne
djupet
som synast
å skjelve
av noko
under
overflata
der ho
skimta
små blenkande
ljos
av og på
og av igjen
før dei
startar ein ny
sekvens

ei djup brummande
tone tiltek i styrke
og sakkar av
igjen
og brått
får ho
lyst å snu
å  småspringje
heim att
men kroppen
er som teipa
fast i lufta
og ho kan
ikkje anna
en å måpe
når skapninga
under vatnet
dukkar opp
snur seg
på umulege
vis og berre
forsvinn foran
augene hennar
med eit søkk
før ho rekk
å bli forskrekka

(( schvuppps ))

kva var det ho såg
kva var det ho
høyrde ?

himmelen rumla
og vinden
bøygde  trea
til sies
då noko
tok avgarde
i høg fart

kan hende
nokon som
brått fekk lyst
å vende heim
att

kven veit
kva det
var ho
kjende
og kva det
var
det ho båe
såg
å høyrde


var det berre
ein
draum
ho ikkje
kunne skjelne
mellom
det kjende
og det ukjende

var
det verkeleg
berre
ein draum
at ho var våken
då ho såg
å høyrde
det ho
gjorde
i skumringa
ved det
vesle tjernet

Man in the wall

There is a man inside the wall,and when he speaks its rather muffled and faint.
I have to cup my ear to hear what he says,and he doesn`t like it.
He often tells me  i look stupid with my ear to the wall,and then he goes on calling me names.
Names i don`t want to share with you here,nor anywhere for that matter.

Its an elderly man,who`s life never really ended,but continued in the woodwork of my wall.
Sometimes late at night,just before i slip into unconsciousness,he knocks 3-1-2 and then 3-3-3.
That`s the signal,and signature of his presence that comes and goes.

Some nights i lie there expecting the knocking on my wall,and nothing happens.Other nights,when  i and i just want to sleep, he amuses himself by knocking on the wall,right above my fontanelle and keeps me disentertained until i get tired of it all,and eventually pass out.

I told the village priest of my incidents,and he promised to come for an exorcism,but that was 2 years ago.Rumors have it that he went crazy after hearing voices in the wall and strange knocking.
He is now resting in a facility for the mentally disturbed.
God bless the poor priest,Carmichael.He was such a sane and sturdy individual.

Other people have other phenomenas going,of wich they may or may not be consciouss of.
Becoming consciouss of phenomenas is usually not on the menu.Asking for it can land one in prison.

Phenomenas enjoy the ignorance and disbelief that we humans wrestle with on a daily basis.
Our focus on material affairs,keeps the world of phenomenas in a safe haven.Only the mad,the lunatic,children,and weirdos have entrance to this realm.They can do no harm to the phenomenal forces that govern and create realities in their secret laboratories.
As their stories will always be dismissed as mere products of the imagination.
Reality is not that colourful
they say.

Talok

When Talok lurks outside your house,its usually because he wants to get inside.
Never let Talok inside your house,unless you want to become possessed.
Talok is the spirit of many dead people who have lumped together to become a creepy phantom of the supernatural world.
He can appear as a little begging boy who only wants your sympathy and an open door or window.
However,he can not enter if you have heard of the tale,and know of his motives.
He may also appear as your mother in a dream,and make you sleepwalk to your door,where he will slip in and do his tricks with your mind until you no longer recognize yourself.
Talok hates whistling,and laughter,and avoids houses where jolly people celebrate.
Talok can be trapped into a corner,if whistled at,during his haunting tours,and with continued whistling,he can be vaporized into thin air.
The energy of life is what he wants,but the same energy,focused directly at Talok will do "him" great harm.

I once saw Talok sitting beside me in bed,waiting for me to leave my body so he could enter.
I observed how his forehead came into my dream,but couldnt get any further,cause his head was to big for the tiny  little room in my dream.
I laughed at his failed attempt to possess me,and he fled with anger,growling like a hurt lion.
Laughter is the purest poison for the souls that feed on fear and angst.
A good strong laughter can actually kill Taloks.It has been done before.
There are witnessess to strange incidents that cannot yet be explained by our  current model of language.

so now you know the tale,and i urge you to share it with loved ones.

pfandra

Ho rulla nedover tunet
lik eit garn nøste
og drog med seg
båe
blomar å gras

då ferden
endeleg
stoppa
ved eit
stille tjern
byrja
vinden å blesa
og snart
var det
krusningar
på det
vesle tjernet

i ku byrja
rauta frå heia
og snart
vart dei to

ei linerle
landa på
ryggen hennar
og tuppa
der
ei stond

ei fluge
flaug inn i linsa
og snart
vart bildet
fyllt av kravlande
bein
og vinger

----vi beklager teknisk feil-------

Er det deg ?

Eg høyre kviskring
er det du
som kviskrar ?

eg ser røyrsle
mellom trea

er det du
som røyrer deg ?

kvifor driv
du å
lurar på
meg
å kviskrar ?

snakk høgt
og tydeleg
om du
vil seie
meg noko

kom ut
kom fram !

My room

eg sølte kaffi på blondeduken
og velta kakefatet
over ende

eg snubla i dørkarmen
og gløymde pin koden
til bank kortet
så det blei
slukt

glei på ein plastpose
og klemde fingen
i ei skuffe

lo på feil plass
og på feil stad
og fekk¨
naboen ild sint

nokre dagar
ligg eg berre
der og ber

andre dagar
er eg ute
å gjer meg
stor å svær

WHATS LEFT

WHAT REMAINED
WAS THE WORDS HE WROTE

WHILE HE HIMSELF MOVED A HEAD

AN  ENORMOUS HEAD
AND

HE MOVED IT
BY

CONTINUALLY ROLLING IT

DAY BY DAY

THROUGH FORESTS
AND SAND

THOSE WHO SAW
HIM ROLLING AHEAD
WAS LEFT IN AWE
WITH DROPPED
JAWS

WHAT REMAINED AFTER HIM

WHERE THE WORDS HE WROTE

AND THEY SETTLED IN THIS LITTLE
POEM

MARRIED AND HAD MANY

CHILDREN
THAT LATER GOT
THEIR OWN AND
SOON CAME THE
BOOK
AND
MANY BOOKS
CAME AFTER THAT
FIRST ONE
BUT ALL
RESEMBLING
THE FIRST
BOOK
AT FIRST
GLANCE