noruthie.blogspot.com
Turtles and Chameleons: Outline of Absence
http://noruthie.blogspot.com/2009/05/outline-of-absence.html
Saturday, October 3, 2009. Not only for your thinking. But for your absence. And the longing it creates. In other words,. You exist in me as well. When did we stop realizing that we exist outside ourselves? Like someone said –. Leaves permanent (un)traceable tentacles. On the world wide web. In whatever we do. Under which category does such a poem belong then? October 20, 2009 at 4:16:00 AM GMT 2. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). This is the most disturbing. Limit on freedom -. View my complete profile.
noruthie.blogspot.com
Turtles and Chameleons: Grace
http://noruthie.blogspot.com/2014/01/grace.html
Monday, January 27, 2014. Until there is nothing left. But I know I could never be. I sense in me nothing solid. Making pacts with myself. But I cannot even remember them. Come time to grind my mind. Finally, all is obliterated. On conversations, negotiations. Still, there is something left. I cannot hold myself upright. I cannot overcome my transparency to myself. I know not how. So that, at least, my transparency becomes an outline. Of that which I long to see. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom).
noruthie.blogspot.com
Turtles and Chameleons: Sifa says No
http://noruthie.blogspot.com/2013/11/sifa-says-no.html
Saturday, November 23, 2013. No, no, no, she tells me. Or rather, stop talking such nonsense. Whenever I doubt myself. And it is not the no that catches me. But the fact that she and I are the same. Words were the bridges between us. But looking back, it couldn’t have been mere words. To love and be loved, to know and be known. Precisely because all we didn't need to share. She left me one Friday to always wonder. Of the many wonders her struggle begot. Somehow, with a cat and a book and a child.
noruthie.blogspot.com
Turtles and Chameleons: Trying to remember why I do what I do
http://noruthie.blogspot.com/2013/12/trying-to-remember-why-i-do-what-i-do.html
Tuesday, December 3, 2013. Trying to remember why I do what I do. To open my heart. I have looked for You. In moments of faithlessness –. In the human condition, in our need for justice,. In my deep wish for immortality of the spirit. I have seen You in coincidences. I have seen You in the eyes of the people,. And animals, I have truly loved,. And who have left. I have truly seen,. But it is always fleeting. I reach out time and again,. To people who carry Your name on their sleeve. Things often go well.
noruthie.blogspot.com
Turtles and Chameleons: The Tangible Metaphors of Everything Else
http://noruthie.blogspot.com/2009/10/tangible-metaphors-of-everything-else.html
Friday, October 2, 2009. The Tangible Metaphors of Everything Else. Here's my take on it:. The beyondness came first. All this visible, tangible jumble around us. As footprints in the sand. Outlined after bigger concepts of being (human or otherwise). Dreams serve as a reminder of the fallacy of (un)reality. As an embodiment of how illusive our sense of space and time is. Of how little things can matter once they're gone. For senses, words make little sense (in the full sense of it). Into being wide awake.
noruthie.blogspot.com
Turtles and Chameleons: Misbehaving Seriously
http://noruthie.blogspot.com/2009/05/misbehaving-seriously.html
Friday, September 25, 2009. How can anything be taken seriously? Least of all ourselves. Time changes our hearts -. We can't even expect this tiny realm of our existence;. Music moves something within. That is, really, neither intellect nor spirit. But remains unquestioned, unnamed. Words cover our perception of the world. So much so that we forget to think outside them;. We get used to everything –. And real-deal blood-shrouded news. We keep pets and eat meat;. We repeat repeat repeat. We die, damn it!
noruthie.blogspot.com
Turtles and Chameleons: One thought
http://noruthie.blogspot.com/2013/07/one-thought.html
Tuesday, July 16, 2013. After all these years, a thought. Fleeting, measured in nanoseconds. Of knowing and being known. Loving and being loved. Unbound by the strings wrapped tightly. Around my bundle of hard-measured bliss:. Social acceptance, routine, success. These are not at all the promised bliss. Holding nothing together but themselves. Unwrapped, it unravels. The solidity of the contained containment. Am, at last, I. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). This is the most disturbing.
noruthie.blogspot.com
Turtles and Chameleons: Little people out of nowhere
http://noruthie.blogspot.com/2014/12/little-people-out-of-nowhere.html
Sunday, December 14, 2014. Little people out of nowhere. Funny, how the world can turn endlessly. Without leaving a mark on my day. And yet the tiniest of human creatures. Can cause such an upheaval. As if time refuses to follow its faultless pace. As if my emotions have reincarnated into someone else's body. As if my physique has suddenly changed its main purpose. As if all the years of courting and love-falling were really just for this (what a rip off! As if freedom will never again be truly mine.
noruthie.blogspot.com
Turtles and Chameleons: Alone
http://noruthie.blogspot.com/2009/09/alone.html
Monday, September 14, 2009. 8230; how to describe such beauty as that which is laid out plainly before me now? A solitary lake: what luxury in the year 2009, a lake all to oneself, if only just for a week – if only just for an hour! But here I am, just Løvdalsvannet and me, and I have no vocabulary to convey a scenery so succulent. MORE. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). This is the most disturbing. Limit on freedom -. Knowing you are born into your. Political and religious beliefs;. New Neu Ny, No?
noruthie.blogspot.com
Turtles and Chameleons: Awe
http://noruthie.blogspot.com/2009/06/awe.html
Sunday, September 20, 2009. In the smoothness of time worn down by seconds. Love no longer is, only, unrequited. But has become unfelt. Whether through control or self-preservation. The jagged edges of overwhelming infatuation. Are lost to me. Almost, that is. Until the injustice of giving in to time materializes. In new, hungry youth. And old impassive routines. I am still in between. Reluctantly falling into admiration. Only to realize its merits. And the gift of being able to see. Limit on freedom -.
