the complete poems

I just want everyone to know that Emily Dickinson has changed my life.

It's such a cliche, but I don't care.

She is remarkable.

Jason Mraz puts on a great show!

time for a change

2001: 9/11 happened
2004: Bush was "re-elected"
2008: GO OBAMA!

*I wrote this in 2004 during my senior year of high school. Is anyone else ready for a change?

Got myself a job, working 9 to 5
Ends were barely meeting, just enough to survive
I wrote my politician, asked him why my paycheck sucked
He replied, “Don’t worry sonny, just a little bad luck.”
So I made a couple changes, didn’t want to be a fool
I joined the armed forces and went on back to school
Turn your partner round and round
Noses up! Now hit the ground…
November came around and I registered to vote
But it all turns out that Democracy’s a joke!
All those “flapping” ballots never made it to the court
And Mr. Al Gore was just a couple thousand short
So I swallowed real hard and I vowed to keep the peace
The United States Army was just like Joseph’s fleece
Turn your partner round and round
Noses up! Now hit the ground…
Then in mid-September fear was knocking at our door
Those towers in New York were knocked right to the floor!
What can we do? Couldn’t we have saved the day?
Hush, hush, quiet was the Democratic way
Georgie color coded everything in orange and red
Warning all the public of the war that lay ahead
Turn your partner round and round
Noses up! Now hit the ground….
I was sent across the ocean to a country named Iraq
I guess I always thought that one day I’d make it back
I didn’t feel heroic, just felt like going home
Why were we fighting if we’re fighting all alone?
It’s been a couple years and nothing ever seems to change
Just a few new laws and a longer list of names
Turn your partner round and round
Noses up! Now hit the ground…
I’m fighting for a cause in the steady public eye
Osama’s out there somewhere, but he never seems to die!
I’ve been played for a fool, that I’m willing to admit
I guess I should’ve packed my Anti-Georgie kit
But there’s no turning back on this grandioso hoax
Cause that would just upset all you penny-earning folks
Turn your partner round and round
Noses up! Now hit the ground…

gone fishing

I've been drowning lately.
Lacking air, struggling to know which deceptive shade of blue is the sky.
What should I conclude during this period of neglect, stranded between these two mediums?
So much construction, destruction, instruction.
Ruction. I am a fish out of water.

lately

I've been reflecting a lot lately. Mostly because I've been asked to for class - or something.

One of the quick five minute prompts was three words to describe your childhood:

FIELD: Iowa is an open space. It boasts acres and sky and a never-ending view of somewhere you will never reach.

BIKE: Around the block, down the alley behind our house, breaking so hard there are black marks on the sidewalk. Big wheels, training wheels, helmets, skinned knees, races, bells, no hands.

PIANO: Practice, lessons, recitals, competitions, scales, memorization. Playing by heart.

seams

"All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream." - Edgar Allan Poe

Just think how dark the world used to seem.
People were far less mobile; the spaces far more unknown.
Think about how scary the outside would be if we didn't have streetlights and flashlights and kitchenlights and porchlights. Would we venture out?
It must have felt very dangerous to be alone. To be removed.
Now, we can travel 24 hours a day - we can sleep with a nightlight - we can avoid the feeling of being plunged into darkness (if desired).



Today (it seems) the world is seamlessly aglow.

dollars and sense

Show me the line
The dollar sign
The one with no amount
My worth must be
The finest print
Too small (or great) to count
Love could pave
My way, my step
One brick can make a road
But happiness
Is measured how?
In dollars, sense, or gold?
I can't deny
The fear, the doubt
Still, I cannot place the blame
Inside, it seems
My love amounts
To a willingness, a claim

life support

"Time weighs down on you like an old, ambiguous dream. You keep on moving, trying to slip through it. But even if you go to the ends of the earth, you won't be able to escape it. Still, you have to go there - to the edge of the world. There's something you can't do unless you get there." ~H. Murakami

Kabekona Lake. It feels like the edge, the end. I will always come back to that place: for the view, for the peace of mind, for the feeling of ground beneath my feet.



And for the trees:

"Old Bruce"

How impressive, Old Bruce
Your spread of
Knobby knuckle roots
And gnarly, troll-nosed bark
How old, how tall,
How wise must you be?
Your arms sag
And your back curves gently
Beneath your piney beard
How you must love to
Cast your shadow on this ground
And breathe in the ageless
Life support
Of sun and soil

the hues of blues.

even though i was inside all day on my feet, it was a good day. some of my customers managed to paint my long work day in delightful hues of BLUE:


the woman who declared a blueberry muffin with cream cheese and a hot cup of Yunnan FOP was the BEST combination out there.

the sweet lady who finally bought herself a teapot instead of buying one as a gift. it was a 56 oz. iced tea pitcher the color of blueberries. $42.99

one of my classmates from st. kate's who loves birds was delighted to discover blue mountain spice; black tea with cardamom. a cup to go.

broken joy and happy curls.

http://www.museums10.org/images/uploads/EricCarleMuseum/ericcarle2.jpg

i don't have any new pictures to post because my camera is broken.

i recently discovered the joy of.

eric carle books make me happy.

it's so hot in the house right now the hair tucked behind my ears is curling.

time is never enough.

only because

my earliest memory is from my crib. a bed with bars and a blanket hung over the side. i remember a lightning storm with thunder that flashed outside my window. it flashed through the glass and lit up the center of my favorite green blanket (the one with trains and airplanes on it). i don't think i was scared, but i was listening. i listened through the changing light, one ear pressed against the mattress, one ear to the ceilingsky. calm only because the blanket was nearby. lightning and thunder above my head.

what do you remember?

if you don't move, it's tolerable.

hot hot hot.
humid doesn't begin to cover it.

steaming pots of water.
standing too close to a fire.
a bath that burns your toes.
mid-day tar.
body heat.
a sky with no clouds.
a road with no shade.
a car with no a.c.
wind that doesn't cool you off.
sticky melty slimy.
dehydrated.
sun-burned.

it must be july.

it isn't easy being green.

my journal has turned into descriptions of tea and other sense-related observations. aftertastes, weight on my tongue, visions of green vegetables and forest-fresh brews. life is honey sweet and the leafy delight of clouds and mist leaves my brain in a heavy fog. wild mountains. azmabad pearls. sweet gin. precious pekoes. guns. powder.dragon wells.flowers in the snow.

my world is blink bonnie green.

Tivoli

Stems, and rays of sun

Pink and white and demon rides

Parks and sparks of time

all tied up

Knots. Now that my brain has been temporarily wired to think about wedding-related things, I have to wonder where the phrase "tying the knot" came from. Rick and I have an account on theknot.com, and that's as close as I've come to making knots part of this process. When I think of knots, I think of double-knotting my tennis shoes when I was little, or securing a rope to anchor our little fishing boat, or un-knotting a piece of jewelery, or the feeling in my stomach when I get nervous. I never thought of marriage as a knot, though. Knots can be untied. Maybe it's just me - maybe I just can't get on board with the knot metaphor.

Or maybe I'm about to discover that some knots are meant to be irreversible.

the walls became the world

rock-a-bye-baby breezes and drumdrumdrum droughts.
earth, heart. branches that reach like impatient fingers.

where are the wild things? i'd like to see them dance.

walls. watch them grow.
when strangers look, all they'll see is stone.

"i'll come back someday"

end mark

this is the first picture i took in denmark. it's at the parliament in copenhagen.

i am grateful for all that has happened and take comfort in the fact
that it will always remain.

(even if i can't show you)

for four

It's been difficult to re-adjust to, well, my life. After leaving it for four months, I stumble back into it - strangely unprepared and suffering from an empty shell sensation. I can't explain what my experience was abroad because everything I've learned and seen and shared is so cumulative and so gradual. A highlight reel would not do it justice. On the outside, I am the same. My family and friends still love me the same. I am newly engaged to a wonderful man who I love so much. But the gap remains and I don't know how to embrace it yet. It's as if I never left and the only one that can vouch for me is...me.
I have hundreds of pictures of faces and buildings and landscapes...there must be a way to connect it. I'll sketch it for you. Ignore the eraser marks, the uneasiness of my lines. I know what I want it to look like. I have a picture in my head.

second-to-last

around my room
the suitcases are worthy enough
to hold, to transport
all that material proof
of, that tangible awareness of

quiet denial,
unbearable anticipation
anywhere is just a place
...even home is just a place.

luffe

civilized seduction

I walked the path
'Cause it was paved
The grass dare not intrude

The blades were short
The colors, dim
The lines all stiff and crude

Seduction is
So civilized
Each social, structured part

But I diverged
Across the field
In search of soul and heart

blurred

I love May - it makes me think of freezing cold fresh lake water and going up north. I can't wait to step into Kabekona with my pants rolled up to my knees and pretend like I never have to leave...

The reality of leaving DK is slowly starting to hit me, and it doesn't seem possible that on one particular Sunday not far from now I will board a plane and just "arrive" in MN. My concept of home has been permanently blurred.

Today is saturated with a cool rain and greens so brilliant it might as well be staged. My window is cracked and the quiet satisfaction of another day has settled beneath the airy, gray sky.

sparks

London. Big Ben announcing noon on Peter Pan's magic clock. Second star to the right and morning is over, the sun is high in the sky and I wish I had some fairy dust to enjoy the view. I nod toward the Eye that keeps a close watch on the Thames, following the rubbish--eating--current that flows through the heart of the city.

Old streets, heavy feet, dates that boggle my mind. Energy, smog, double decker expectations. Spectacular greens, yellows, blues and gray sunshine. I navigate the colored lines of the underground and emerge to the delight of people-watching benches. Imaginary lines of time, murder mysteries, and sparks of electricity.

I'Mmortality

i think i write in an attempt to frame. to breathe and move and interact outside of mortality's mysteries. what do i project? i i i i i i. self-centeredself-absorbed fear. a dot within a circle and all that empty space to surround it. what about the other possibilites? the point-to-point connect the dots: what picture do you see? my limbs, my invisible visiblity. an extension of negative space. (not everyone can stay inside the lines)

if i could sign this screen, i would. sarah linnea golv <--- that's not me at all.

just sound

I've become accustomed to walking blissfully down the street without having to strain my ears to eavesdrop, tune-out, or comprehend much of anything. The Danish language remains a mystery to me, and when English does appear in my pastel paradise, it is almost unwelcome, startling. Granted, I am still 100% reliant on the fact that wherever I go, someone will speak English, a handicap I hope to someday remedy. But for these past few months, it has been a gift. I can exist in a bustling, wheel-turning city where sounds, intonations, and lyrics just are. No double-meaning, no sarcasm, no small talk. Just sound waves - coming and going.

th(ings)

Packing (my bags). Slacking (at school). Laughing (at the dog). Waiting (for that first hug). Smiling (too much to look forward to). Pausing (I'm not ready to leave).

just one month left.

pseudo spring

stranded, out of shell
snails that curl and
squish pave my path
to red-streaked, time-
obsessed trains that
splash and blur
my view.

april showers

Spring arrived today!!!

Shy, beautiful spring. It's about time.

as lovers multiply

bewildered mass
i'll contradict
the void that you create
persuasion is a
superman
a counter-act of fate
but what of death
so dark and near
repeated like a song?
the chaos lives
for only love
will miss me when i'm gone

i guess i love
the yours in mine
the keeping of the heart
protection and
security
divide me part by part
the brave retreat
without regret
no battle, field, or cry
you are not one
for all are lost
as lovers multiply

in parts of three
i leave you now
all equal, never whole
the oldest form
is premature
to explain away the soul
how far, how cold
how popular
to dream only to wake?
desert me now
(it's self-involved)
i build, i burn, i stake

out of sorts

self-realization is hard to classify; beauty blurs.

not among strangers

3-22-2008
"Half of my roots lie there - snowy, soggy, uphill, white siding, red cabinets, attic, trunks, radio, books, newspapers, stove, lumpy beds, mold, buttons, strings, lace curtains, doilies, rocking chair, soap. I miss my family tonight but I know I am not among strangers."


I met my great great aunt Lina, who is 95 and lives in Stavanger. We said hello and goodbye in one evening.

Leif, Ingeborg, Signy, Lars, and Elisabeth Topnes. Leif is my grandpa's cousin.

The place that I am named for: Golvdalen. My great great grandfather Lars lived here on the island of Ombo near Stavanger.

can't pronounce

Verdun, Reims, Paris, Toulouse, Barcelona, Valenica. 10 days.

Too much has happened - my journal is the most reliable source:

3-10-2008

"Sunday is a blur - the longest bus ride of my life ended with a dingy hotel in Verdun where I shared a double bed with a girl I barely know. Highlights of the trek from DK to France include the ferry, chocolate eggs, watching Amelie, and having a mental breakdown with Caitlin - flower spritzing and a lot of chatting by the eleventh hour.

Took a nice long soak in the tub in a city I can't pronounce (something in the back of your throat and up your nasal passage, silent "m") R-E-I-M-S."

3-15-2008

PARIS = UNCANNY

"Remember walking to the Sacre Coeur through the crowded narrow streets, up the gradually inclining landscape, past the woman screaming at the man, and up the million jillion stairs to the church. Then, remember my flushed face and beating heart and sweaty palms as I walked around and looked up at the heaven of human architecture. Maybe I even prayed."

3-16-2008

"Luggage. So sick of luggage. The weight of my belongings. Remember the pigeons in the train station - dirty, intrusive, like insects that don't bite. Now it is light and the window is filled with green green green and a cloud-shaped sky. South we go. A flock of train cars and suitcases."

alwayslovemiss

I am intrigued by inverse, opposites, and shadows. I like to think big and abstract. I always consider how easy something would be to paint. On most days, the weather = my mood. I love organizing, rearranging, and de-cluttering. I have a newfound love for green vegetables. Next week at this time, I will be in Paris. For now, this is where I am supposed to be.

mood swing

When I woke up this morning, there was blue sky and sunshine.

Mid-morning, dark clouds had crowded the horizon and it hailed for a few minutes (but the sun was still shining).

A few hours later, it was overcast and raining.

And tonight? Snow.

HAIL TO THE SUN AND S(NO)W TO THE RAIN.

back to work

host-home

DK
spiked hair.yellow paint.sidewalk cracks.bike baskets.candlesticks.five-minute breaks.sore shoulders.wet feet.bus pass.iPod.orange towel.open windows.fresh fruit.hot chocolate.doodles.meat and potatoes.commercial-free.no-please-and-thank-you.chess.evening tea.pastries.homesick.digital photo.postcards. S-tog.potato chips. walking.pigeons.fairy tales.white wine.

MN
highland adventures.half price books.teasource.movie marathons.late-night pizza.driving.grilled cheese.smoothies.kisses.lamps.late nights.snow.won-tons.target.rc7.imaginary friend.lakes.card club.stress.iced tea.microwave popcorn.kitchen-floor pong.pop machine.computer lab.Latin. posters.straws.hugs.gumby.pride and prejudice.futon.charlie brown.root beer.naps.

for a gray day

Totally unrelated, all-consuming, unanswerable thoughts for a gray day in the harbor:

Just finished Hunger by Knut Hamsun. Wow.

Suffering from strange, expected waves of homesickness and a newfound feeling of independence. I am a walking contradiction of emotion.

Vulnerable and powerful...in control and completely alien. Gut-wrenchingly satisfying.

Consider the dialogue between our social construction of what it means to be "feminine" or "masculine." Then consider how silent this conversation is.

Textual universe. Published. Stream-of-experience-impossible-to-capture. What is your definition of truth?

first impressions

The self-governing free town of Chrisitiania

Carlsberg Brewery

My host family: Mikkel (11), Michael, Amalie (14), and Trine

Fredriksborg Castle

One of the DIS buildings

The Little Mermaid

happy anniversary

Happy one month anniversary to my arrival in Denmark!

This past weekend were the short study tours and I visited the towns of Aalborg, Skagen, and Aarhus. I really feel like I got to see so much more of Denmark's landscape, art and food!

Skagen was probably the highlight of the trip - it lies on the northern most shore of the country and the sand dunes were really beautiful. I love the way sand moves, morphs, covers up, slides, reveals, and caves at the tiniest hint of wind or weight. The art museum in Skagen was really inspiring - it was so full of memories and tragedies and stories of sailors and fishermen and the people in the area. It felt like a ghost town, though, because during the off-season it's a pretty quiet and cold place. I'm glad we saw it that way, though.

It was also nice to feel like Copenhagen was "home" after being away for a few days. This place is beginning to feel like more than just a city...

Sunset in Skagen

Saturday morning was gray and frosty.

This shore attracts over 1 million tourists a year.

Standing on a dune : )

The tip of the peninsula is where two oceans converge. Ever seen a surf like that?

sense to it

Enjoying a cup of iron silk puerh and studying for a Nordic mythology quiz. I love lazy, long, lasting mornings.

I really like the pace of the European lifestyle - it is slow enough that you actually feel like you are participating in daily life. Of course I have stumbled into routines, but the motions feel voluntary, not robotic.

And now, for a poem that evokes little more than an image - not much real sense to it.

"Radar"
For fear of gravity
In want of warmth
I create an arrowhead
Of instinct against
The unforgiving negative
Space of the "V"
Drawn in the sky.

cobble wobble

cobble wobble bobble
stones step up
beside buildings
dressed in double-digit
numbers and lonely
harbor boats that
hobble in the wind.

the good life

So, welcome to Denmark! I have been here for nine short days, permanently messed up my inner clock, and can't stop thinking in "Minnesota" time. (yes, I think about you all every day)

Observations: public transportation rules. i walk a lot more. train rides are usually close to silent. my host family makes me feel at home. people hardly ever eat out. bikes are a real mode of transportation. english is spoken everywhere. handball is one sport i don't mind watching. everything is slower. "hygge" is the good life. "københavn" is one of the few danish words i can pronounce.

*pics to come soon

ten days out

In ten days I will board a plane.

In ten days I will be welcomed by a new family.

In ten days I will start missing you every day.


In ten days I will lift off.