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Niels Blomberg Poem
I live in the land
where seas are high
and soils are low
where dikes and dunes
are border posts of
safe and sound
I live in the land
where sea levels rise
and soil levels sink
where boats look down
on red tiled roofs
and tops of trees
I live in the land
where sand and clay
replace the rock
where houses on piles
stand straight and strong
in shrinking peat
I live in the land
where poets have sung
of slow moving rivers
in infinite lowlands
where painters have praised
the grey kaleidoscope above
Copyright © Niels Blomberg | Year Posted 2008
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Niels Blomberg Poem
He is the silly brother of death
is never seen around the cradle
and has never turned up for the
first smoke
first beer
first love
He is waiting for you with jester cap and painted grin
halfway
Roaring with laughter he pushes aside
infinity
Together on the seesaw
he pushes you higher
and higher until you
dangle over boundless
gorges until you
scream you have to go because you
have
so many things to do
so little time to spend
With both feet back
on solid ground you buy him a
drink
and
wait
for his big brother to arrive
Copyright © Niels Blomberg | Year Posted 2009
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Niels Blomberg Poem
Let's sail across the sea
to continents unknown
completely on our own,
just skies and waves and we.
Or do you disagree?
You nod and watch your phone.
I feel a bit unheard,
but you look up and smile.
You hesitate a while,
then give your final word:
my plan is quite absurd
and I am infantile.
To you a place is fine
if there's a TikTok line.
Copyright © Niels Blomberg | Year Posted 2025
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Niels Blomberg Poem
air conditioning
never summer or winter
nose on the window
Copyright © Niels Blomberg | Year Posted 2009
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Niels Blomberg Poem
Higgledy Piggledy
William Wordseeker
pins on the wall
all the words he has found.
He likes to say that his
lexicographical
treasure are now
erinaceously bound.
For the background of this rhyme:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J4VzuWmN8zY
Copyright © Niels Blomberg | Year Posted 2009
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Niels Blomberg Poem
The words in my head are beautiful.
They are dancing cheek to cheek
with Southern legato or London staccato
with Chinese tunes and Xhosa clicks,
with native Dutch, straight from the heart.
The words in my head are reluctant
to stand in line. They like
to dance and play. They like
to echo inside the skull, infinite
Ping-Pong straight from the heart.
The words in my head come alive,
naked at the stroke of a key.
Ribbons of red and green show
who’s been good and who’s been bad.
Dots on the screen, straight from the heart.
The words in my head are ready
to face the world. I comb their hair
and clean their nose and wave goodbye
until they disappear around the bend.
One day they will be back, straight to the heart
Copyright © Niels Blomberg | Year Posted 2008
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Niels Blomberg Poem
No longer locked in shiny spheres
that rumble-role in soothing speed
too closely packed on lazy tar
like beads confined upon a string
I feel the water freely flow
My paddle tips reach for the sky
The land two ribbons by my side
No roaring engine leads the way
The water-flow starts at my door
It drifts away through the lagoon
One day I'll join it to the bay
and out beyond the Golden Gate
Copyright © Niels Blomberg | Year Posted 2010
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Niels Blomberg Poem
you are on my train
I call you Rumpelstiltskin
you coddle your name
Copyright © Niels Blomberg | Year Posted 2009
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Niels Blomberg Poem
whenever I see you
i’m thinking of him
i greet you
you greet me
we talk and
we talk and
we talk
we are silent because
we are thinking of him
we are silent
so long ago it is
almost forgotten
i think it is ten years
you say it is twenty
we both have forgotten
for that is much better
it soon will be thirty
we keep on forgetting
it was on a day
that was much like today
it was grey
it was cloudy
no blue in the skies
but neither did rain fall
and to our surprise we saw
specks of a rainbow
we searched and we found it
the hole in the clouds
i know not the season
because it was cloudy
it felt like the winter
when snow had all melted
but also like summer
when sunshine was missing
and we were together
together with him
i still do recall that
it was on the third
but i know not the month
and i know not the year
or the day of the week
but whenever i see
number three written down
i am thinking of you
i am thinking of him
i still do recall
how that day did begin
when it all felt exciting
for we were together
together with him
our lives seemed so splendid
our lives seemed so good and
our lives seemed eternal
for you and for me
and especially for him
we three went out strolling
although it was freezing
but it was not raining
so we went out strolling
together with him
one question keeps nagging us
who is to blame for this
this could be my fault
or this could be your fault
or this could be his fault
yes this could be his fault
we did it together
yes i did it
you did it
he did it too
they asked us what happened
but we just kept silent
they asked and they asked us
but i just kept silent
and you just kept silent
yes we both kept silent
too long and too guilty
we found not the words
not for me
not for you
not for him
we’re now linked together
forever connected
forever connected
with you and with him
whenever I see you
i’m thinking of him
Copyright © Niels Blomberg | Year Posted 2011
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Niels Blomberg Poem
blossom in the snow
time is right but place is wrong
or vice versa
Copyright © Niels Blomberg | Year Posted 2009
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