Sailing

(7.12.2001) by Irene Hernberg

Trees were bending in unison with
The wildly tapping compass while
The girls were watching the tennis ball-yellow reflection
Of the flame that filtered through the empty wine bottle

The sails flapped like yesterday
Against tomorrows surface while
The girls clenched their teeth as they let
The candle wax melt on their palms

The salt from the foamy ocean danced against
Darkness of the light, bonding itself with the
Fast going spiritual segment of now while
The girls rubbed their eyes and lay down

The lines were taut and the wind chill factor
Stronger than the girls had bargained for while
Getting ready to burn out the candles and
Calling it a night


The Spruce

(4.4.2001) by Irene Hernberg

The flamboyant mirror of his soul reflects
Yesterday�s well-groomed lawns where
Many critters chew on the sapling of a
Spruce

The roots entwine with the impossibility:
Cones that could have fallen from the thick branches
One by one or in well-planned groups
Many would they have been

The flamboyant mirror of his soul reflects
The torn sapling that has ripped up the hope that
One day the moist soil he stands upon won�t be pulled off
His feet.

But little does he know curled within
The flamboyant mirror that reflects his soul;
The door or a Victorian house that
Leans against the scornfully molded lawn,
Is indeed ajar

Beautiful Places, Smiling Faces

(8.8.2000)By Irene Hernberg

He always carries a smile on his lips,
Sleeping at night purring like a mixture of
Joy and anxiety,
The dream must be genuine.

I often watch this smile moving from
High street to the misty grass where
Strong hands lift me higher than,
This must be it.

I see things in the eyes looking at the out-going fire,
Where the hidden thoughts show more than you,
But I know too well about the
Anguish that is playing on your wine-scented skin.

The combination intoxicates the
Imperfect proportions where I
Carry the thoughts of you and me
Making it all the way to the morning.

Falling

18.8.2000, Irene Hernberg

It dawned to me in the early hours
Rushed through me happy-go-lucky
And returned back to its secret place
Where I often smell lavender and licorice

It made me sure of the one sharing
Cold rainy moments in the hot and humid
Mixing toothpaste with ciabatta bread
Picking eyelashes from the high cheeks

In the darkness of the light where
Bedspreads mingled with small thoughts
I realized that there was no turning back
From the eyes that talk to me while I am sleeping.

Ghost

19.12.2000, Irene Hernberg

I think I know how it feels to be a ghost
Flying lightly through the rooms
Feeling the touch of breeze as if
nothing bad would come out of it

I think I could become a ghost
Getting glances of different faces while
Moving with the speed of light through
Destinations unknown, too well known

I know how to become a ghost
Don�t need to notice anyone
Can if I so please, but don�t have to
Am just able to float

Just monitoring the aimless lies
That entwine with ruthful unnecessarities

El Bastardo (Spring 1999) Irene Hernberg

You are always freezing you told me,

Thought it was funny then but see no

Humor in it now

Didn�t I tell you not to?

I gave you no encouragement quite

The opposite tried to push you aside before

The freezing process

Took over.

Such nasty one, it was.

I felt for you then

Already, you fool thought you really meant what you

But carelessly tossed me aside like

Caesar�s salad:picked me up and

Shoved me on my face

I hate breadcrumbs!

So here I am slowly swallowing old lettuce, shut up.

Already.

Settling

(Irene Hernberg) 1998

Confusion, loneliness with late nights

Against the gray rain raping the windowpanes one by one.

And I feel so, where am I?

Tomorrow will give me nothing everything gives tomorrow

Crawling in mud could you please close the curtains!

Tick-tock time running away like quicksilver slyly disappearing to the

Sewage, I call it home.

Tick-tock

And who are you to tell me to pick up the trash?

Tranquil Thoughts

by Irene Hernberg

Cold tranquility

Covering the streets burdened with thick layers of ice.

Not a sound can be heard,

Wait, I think I can hear it whisper!

She approaches from the distance

With heavily perspired air that

Makes my hair alive.

Walking right towards me

Crooked smile on her steely lips

I am not anymore.

Heartbeat against my chest

It belongs to me like

A newborn baby clinging to her mother.

Smother me, devour my existence

I do exist but I am invisible!

Freezing point

(December 3. 1998) Irene Hernberg

I walk through your breath

The steam mingles on my cheeks

The warmth that I feel is very,

And then it�s gone.

Wonder how you did that

Again how could you?

I feel nothing tomorrow will be quite ordinary

Yet the breath is still there,

Damp on my cheeks

Freezing me, warming me up.

How could you?

Training

Fall 1999, Irene Hernberg

Green flashes passed me in a shape of a tram that

Makes my toes itch while I tighten the scarf around my

Neck without it doing any good anyway because

The wind is there, always,

Leading me on taking away from me

The necessary portion of my hair that,

Flows in several interesting angles,

But that is so very and so it goes,

Who would have guessed that the green

Flashing me, penetrating my privacy would

But I knew there was something extreme

On the lips of the man that spoke to the child

THE BEACH

(Jan 2, 00) Irene Hernberg

Fine sand between my toes

Stuck there for a long time,

So fine that even the water won�t rinse it.

Hot pavement underneath but I�ll walk it because I have to

Feet don�t get burn marks easily,

Do they?

BEAUTY

(fall 99) Irene Hernberg

What is beauty but a false interpretation

Of a human being.

Bad breath asks for tolerance

Receding hairline needn�t be combed back.

Bunch of flowers lay dead in a vase

My grandmother smiled just before she passed away.

GRADUAL CLEANUP /FEB 2000 (Irene Hernberg)

I sweep you under my mat

And keep you there

A few days

Just to make sure

I then move on taking the vacuum cleaner

Out and sucking you into the

Stuffy bag with the rest of the litter

I keep you there for sometime

Oh oh, the vacuum bag is now full

And off I slightly swing

It into the waste bin

Outside my apartment building

The next day, I already set my alarm the night before,

I wake up extra early and watch the

Garbage truck dump you in

And drive you away

��

THE POINT
�(Irene Hernberg)

What�s the point of

Having a few pieces of chocolate

Knowing they�re only going to melt in your mouth

And then disappear?

Freezing your nose in the icy rain

Feels good when you know

That�s the worst

It�s going to get

But when the chocolate is served to you

On regular basis and the frostbites

Leave permanent marks on your nose

You have to repaint your room

EARTH WORM (Irene Hernberg) Spring 99

Did you ever wonder how things would go ifthey went justthe way you wanted

Them to go? Would you be content or would you set more goals or demands to

Yourself or to people close to you?

I know one thing. I would not be happy nor content. I would want more all the time

And by doing just that I would be miserable and feel out of place. I would look for a perfect harmony, which is an impossibility. Yes, I would fiercely strive on impossibility and when I would realize that that really is impossible I would sink very low.

Low to the ground where the worms feast on dirt and the word cocktail party is surreal.

IT
(Irene Hernberg)

In search of something

Inconceivably stunning I

Roamed through the streets

Covered with dirty slush

My shoes sank into it making

My socks damp and my feet

So cold, I looked around me

But couldn�t find it like others

Around me I heard laughter

The bus was waiting for me

On the curb but I was afraid

To get on it

I refused to be the one laughing

And preparing a barbecue

In a summer-tendered island

Because I didn�t want the

Mosquitoes nibbling on my shoulder

ENERGY
�(summer 2000) Irene Hernberg

Sudden surge of energy ran through

Me when I had just decided to

Be meaninglessly empty

The eyes listen to my lips doing

Jay-walking across a fresh smelling bush

There is a hare silently monitoring

The closeness of two strangers

Exchanging powers of

Exes and love that might exist

Or might not between

The gray against gray

Matching souls to some

Extensions

We might call each other collect now

But that�s ok.


Copyright: Irene Hernberg 2001
Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1