The Czars, Drug

Explosions in the Sky: Your Hand in Mine

Coldplay: Up&Up

PS: Pamflets 2-6 are written in the tone of someone in defence, and younger than me- the writer.

Tonje Høydahl Sørli

tapestry, comics and random writings

OnanOn My Focus: Carrier, Where did You Run>>>>>



Illusive Writing/ Speechless

---leaving the table


In 2016 some claimed that

I imagined that I wrote.

Then my illusive writing came

to grab my motherhood

by its tail.

Along with this, others mockery

of people with traumas has

made me low.

So I have lost my

passion for sharing lyrics.

And sorry, but I have

decided to put

my pseudonyms to rest,

and I wont work without

formal meetings again

(which mean I have).

But for the future, I am sure

there are other ways to



Love for 2018,

take care.




On Songlyrics:


Once I had a partner, but today when it comes to lyrics I work absolutely and totally alone. Five years ago my lyrics were in use without my knowing. Four years ago several bands used my lyrics with my blessing. Three-Two years ago I withdrew. This not because of musicians, or the bands, but of troublemakers.

Time passes, at this moment I have no partners, I dont have any agreements with any companies, or contracts. + I dont publish elsewere but on this website. And my lyrics will not be used again withhout my personal blessing or a contract. This said, I miss the old times when I had music . Music is feeling and work, thats what I love.


I got support from Kunstløftet in 2014 to do a comic-project on trauma-reactions, and will work on this as a theme (amongst others) in some of my projects a little longer. Right now the shortlyrics here on this site cover the core of a life in in the aftermath of trauma, which is a life too many live today. Besides from this, my focus in lyrics has always been relations.


I used to have a blogish thing(ago), now: none. This is my only website, and my emailadress is here.. Stating this because I no longer have access to my Steve and/ Anne/a-account(email- account under pseudonyms).


Although my lyrics sometimes are used, I dont often get to go to concerts (ref Eat for Free, Haley Bonar).


Though a direct tone- I dont write about anyone I have known or know on this site. And I have never intended to offend anyone with my lyrics. Most I write comes

out of what I observe around me, or read



Do follow me on Instagram:


Nyperose, Nyperose, jeg vil være den du er
Bluebird. Bluebird. Bluebird.
Portraits, Små Portretter fra 2013

All lyrics ©Tonje Høydahl Sørli


/poems / texts:

Tender Plants to Grow This Year


Im the

bid me

but I

I am



they make use of my


but then I


I never show

I never show

you know, I never show


Im little little


lights and movecontrol


waking up in fright

keeping out of sight


see their gardens growing

blooming, taking over


greens and yellows

flowerbuds and watery leaves

--- .---


I hid in your mothers

behind bushes

she telling me to leave


oh please

I begged,

let me have a face


but Im little little


lights and movecontrol


I never show

I never show

you know, I never show

She is Lost in Thought

Radiohead, Daydreaming, also backwards.

Susanne Sundfør: Delirious, Fade Away,




Dot Hacker, Eye Opener



Right Now! In favor! Songs I listen ( I have a passion for songlyrics, had it since Smashing Pumpkin`s Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness came) to:

And to set the tone: Michael Nau, Love Survive. AND I Don`t write songs, but I do write lyrics sometimes used in songs. Meanwhile another place he sets off some

new album..

Leonard Cohen, You Want it Darker & Leaving the Table


Father John Misty: Real Love Baby

Mas Ysa, Shame & Gun Lana Del Ray: Music to Watch Boys to

Lorde, Team Highasakite: My Name is Liar+++

The Slow Show, Dresden Daniel Kvammen! Luve!

Jimi Tenor, Moonfolk, & Tame Impala, Let it Happen

John Maus, All Aboard/Skjønte du spøken!??

Bowie: Girl Loves Me

John Grant: Grey Tickles, Black Pressure

CocoRosie: Child Bride London Grammar, Metal & Dust

Kent, Den sista sången du får.

Tindersticks: Follow Me

Night Beds: Dear Jewell

Emilie Nicholas, Let You Out, Junip Line of Fire

Timber Timbre, Demon Host

Jacob Faurholt, Floating in Space

Iris Viljanen, Ska vi fira

Bright Eyes, Lua

Tonje Høydahl Sørli

tapestry, comics and random writings

Tonje (& Annea) Høydahl Sørli

tapestry, comics and random writings

weaver, songwriter & writer

Please read my pushbutton-texts!

Misuse of Lyrics


I have written some lyrics that

are comments to a growing culture of low limits and moral when it comes to sex. In wrong hands the irony and sarcasm in these lyrics has vanished. Its a thin line sometimes in getting the message through, therefore, the writer should be involved. I am very sorry this has not been the case.


Perhaps had it helped to know that the writer was a woman. Voicing this, though Im also aware that there are many skilled artists and producers out there that can catch the tone and tune in a text easily.


Walking With Roses

Met The Wall


In 2009-13 I wrote 5 scripts that have ended in the wrong end. I withdrew on these projects particularly because I was afraid Id hurt someone in the process.


I have not been mentioned or invited to any events regarding these projects, perhaps fair enough, but I think it is truly sad.


Again: In the future, Id recommend people that get a script in their hand to have an ongoing dialogue with the writer.


Nähe, Thankful Song


Thought On

the ballet Sleepless Beauty,


Oslo 7ht May 2017


Persefone & the rest

it a mans hand on your chest and neck

and me walking into

the foajé

as I say abuse, abuse, abuse

to lay in love

is to have man above

till the mothers eyes

turn sore

blackn white suites

and them holding apartments

for little lovers

without regard to any other

like a child walking into

sleepless nights as her mum

working double shifts again

couldnt that make

a beauty, blackened eyes

till the mountain as a curtain

his finger pointing to th sky

and then they fold

her green dress and possible

evil plans for futuristic towns,

till the end that I loved:

Curtain, drapery, and the

lift of her


he lifted her.


Pamflet 4:

Pamflet 3:



Pamflet 5:

Bjørk: Yoga

Mas Ysa: Face

Reverse in Hand & Backwards Give


oh why

dont give me

whats mine,

50 000 from my

solitary fund

and she wouldve

had a room on her own


did he regret it

as he stopped

my reverse in hand


no dont do this to me

I I I that wrote songs

and verses from my

little town


we sat on the beach

and he fell in love

with any other than me

piles of books and him

perhaps as south

as any man

in north can be


so you lay me down


if you dont behave


your belt lit a light

till I scratched myself *

left marks

on my chest

didnt I


him road

was a backwards give



did you hurt yourself

or me


& this is me flogging

a love I know




ca 20 aug 2017,

En hjemmemusikal som passer for kjøkken :

(synges med en trist tone,, og anspent dansing)


Intro (synges ikke, bare skip og les den, hopp istedet til DING!) (som er markert i gult):


Siden jeg ble enslig, ja det har gått tre år,(kan gjentas for eksempel x3)

så har jeg skrevet 2000 sider, 300 sanger, 20 filmmanus (dette overdrives),

5 saklige tekster, og over 50 søknader(kast en bunke fra deg (med sinne))

og også en tekstcollage, to tegneserier, og enda

flere tekstutkast,

de ligger i min skuff (lat som om du drar ut en skuff og se motløs ut)

ingen ønsker sanger mer (nikk heftig, dette er sant)(vit at dette er en sannhet med modifikasjoner))

til nøds vil noen stille ut en vev (putt fingeren i halsen)

så nå tar jeg turen innom studiet (se glad ut)

og blir noe annet jeg med (igjen, se glad ut)

noen sa jeg slet med omdømme (vift med et par solbriller)

jammen tror jeg han fikk rett (nikk kraftig)

en annen tok min kontakliste (pek på noen som så ser troskyldig ut)

sa jeg var dum,( se dum ut)

mailkontoen forsvant (kast hånda ut til høyre)(vit at noen endret passordet))

fem manus forsvant på et tog i nordItalia (tenk det: utrolig men sant)

og en singasongwriter fikk resten,(lat som om du skyter deg selv i hodet)

en fyr tok fra meg all integritet (fall til gulvet)


så la dette være

min siste sang:

(reis deg opp og børst spon(sic) av klærne):


DING! (paradoksalt nok synges resten av en mann): Kvifor bryr det berre meg at alle kvinner eg møter er galne i hodet? (på nynorsk siden du tenkte på Ferrante)

jeg mener, satan altså, (sitt fremoverlent med hendene foldet i hverandre, rynkete øyenbryn)(før han(du) spretter opp og synger, mens han(du) danser):


Også en skje! (du må løfte en skje og

vifte med den)


Her er din skje,

ja her er en skje, jeg legger

den her på asjetten og det mens

jeg sender deg mitt intense blikk (se intens ut)


ja se her er en skje , en skje

til din espresso

du må ikke vifte affektert med den

(for jeg er hetero)

nei du må ikke løfte den og

sikte her mot min panne,(pek mot pannen din)

og du må også la

mine rumpeballer være, (bare vær klar over at du har en rumpe)

ikke dask meg med den, (rist på hodet, se bestemt ut)

ikke slå i luften,

det er en skje! (syng høyt med lang e)

en skje! (syng høyere med lang e)

en skje! (og høyere)

til din cortado, latte, macchiato (lang o)


jeg tenker ofte:

skjeer er anvendelige (se grunnende ut)

men se de kan skape evig pine!! (stepp litt)


åh, så det er her du sitter (pek mot et sted man kan sitte)(her bor det en kvinne)

og her pleier du å spise

din middagsmat (et bord)


og jammen tror jeg det er her

du tar et glass! (åpenbart en ettroms)


men en skje, du er en kvinne (se morsk ut)

du kunne drepe meg med den (se oppriktig redd ut)

ja en skje, en skje! x 3


Avsluttes: Se, jeg kan skrive! og skape evig smerte hos en mann (dette siste synges heldigvis av en kvinne),

det er mer enn å stønne (skytes inn fra en eller annen).


Bukk. (ikke vis fingeren)(det er alltid upassende)(tro meg)))

og teppet går for (gå inn på badet og lukk døren).

Bloom & Jolly Future in Holburne Museum, Bath
Abelvær, Hundhammeren, Summers in My Youth

Under finner du pamfletten Den Eneste Moren. Skrevet sommer 2016 om det at par/foreldre kan saksøke hverandre etter brudd, og at dette tillates, mens Konfliktrådet burde være stedet

ex-par-men-foreldre(og andre) får hjelp..

Anna Leaves Thankyou *


this is a a a

this i i i i i sis evening boost

my tapestrie at display

on on oh its on


being small vs big, or strong,


what makes he

not greet me,

but, before I go,

to claim I am leaving

as Anna,

when I came as

myself, artist and mum,


Anna leaves, oh

then Anna leaves,


then to take her little hand,

earlier they had gathered, twenty dark youngsters at Walthamstow Central,

the speaker screamed:

this is evacuating alarm,


we found a sign to

the gallery and me

as always pretending

that everything was fine,

buying icecream,

and the riot disappeared,


Anna leaves, oh

then Anna leaves,


waking up without sleep,

they shrieked past my window all night,

the smell of

garbage and London

built on the old,

then I heared the

neighbour voice:

be a tiger for me eh?


I did pretend to see her,

his tiger in negligee,

till our flight was


and I rebooked and

then we left.


he gazed behind,

over his shoulder,

as I once did,

oh Yorke, this is,

why do we work,

like this,


Anna leaves, oh

then Anna leaves.


* I used to have names. Anna and Anne was two of them. So this lyrics is written with thought on that.


Brittle Little & the Brutal Truth, now shown at Wiliam Morris Gallery in London

Paranoid Glances


I used to write

I used to write

I used to reach out


all uf us frightened

and only in the teens


but then they turned and smiled

as if I had some evil plan


she had this little dress

and flowers

sth else than me


but then I realised we all

had to go to a mans door


my hand he hit down, down,

into the floor,


I used to write

I used to write

I used to reach out*


all uf us frightened

and only in the teens


but then they turned to say:

I know who you are writing of



* Why? Hurt is awful.


I Want Sth Just Like This, Coldplay /Chainsmokers

Visit My Deliberate

Homepage Damn It!


feelings, feelings,

and then you write

friend fiend and brother

wound wound and bother


talk is not

its in your hand and your movement

looking at my veins again

is she activated


activating is



struggle and a,

my christmas high

was to save bird from cat


oh so little,


yellow chest and rapid heart


open windows

tell me


ideas ideas and then you write,

wigs and lipstick, vodka plastic

along a slope


do you remember, oh well christ,

I dont have alzheimer,


write me how to thrive

while your friends repeat your traumas.


The Quilt and the Beggar 1/Woman in Tower

of Song



From My Point of View/





 Every Problem has a Limited Lifespan!
They Say That in Life You Make Your Own Luck!

All lyrics. ©Tonje Høydahl Sørli










The Healing Day, Bill Fay: It'll be O.K. On the healing day. No more goin' astray. On the healing day. Yea we'll find our way. On the healing day. To where the children play. On the healing day. When the tyrant is bound. And the tortured freed from his pain, and the lofty brought to the ground. And the lowly raised. Ain't so far away The healing day.



Her Life Seems Dull



-dont write about black buzzers!






-handsome men then?

Il`l write about them.



Truth Hurts



sorrow lost and sorrow won

did you get

what I`ve been plundering(ja jeg har altså plyndret på dette)* on:


I have


a blooming brain.



(song ref Sun has Gone, Broken Twin)

Cripple Deeds 3



Er det ikke godt å ha noen å hate?


når ble det greit

"å ta noen"

og også ha tid til det?


Giblets, Gibbons, Burglar,

My Last Song(2017)

(Thankyou & Sorry)


are awaiting

are awaiting

a break down


7 year old

7 year old



20 year million

20 year million



with no friends

in music buisness

its bisniss


they say

she lives in a one room



we want the world to bow


in the hall of fame

we are nothing but burglars


noone will know.


Squirrel Nut Zippers! Pallin with Al

Farao, Sparks Edith Piaf said it better





Team Me, June, I Killed Sarah V..Lowell.

 Every Problem has a Limited Lifespan!
 Every Problem has a Limited Lifespan!
 Every Problem has a Limited Lifespan!






















































































































She is Lost in Thought

Brush Your Teeth! & Floss



P p pepsodent!

P p p pepsodent!


di di de dea da

di di dea da

just listened to

some old tunes


trippin, like, not my head,

but with feet(tippittopptoe)


you got it wrong

kept me bottled

stuffed back then


could be a package of crackers

a boquet of flowers

that smother, wither

if you dont get a smell, a taste

of everyone of them


if this is (was)

difficult to grasp


Id say

Id say

Id say



your head is filed with cotton


so, Cottonhead

give me a smile


like, Pepsodent!


yeah Pepsodent!


Bluebird. Bluebird. Bluebird.

To a Specialist, On Musicality


yu were so so wrong(x2)

yu were so so wrong(x2)

yu were so so wrong(x2)


lyrics without musicality


well, perhaps you should try to sing them





I bet you`d get them working then.


Running Fox

1.Bloom! & Jolly Future!



Bloom & Jolly Future!
Bloom & Jolly Future! Detalj

Fathers Dismay



dear meet my girl

she is soft and light

today today


eating down into plates

turning cups and glasses


silence burning

its to slice


silence burning

the food is good good


buts the fathers dismay

dear meet my girl

she is soft and light

today today


they say we can choose

the partner we want


but whats it gonna cost

when the father dismay*




* this is not my father, its a scene from a restaurant. Seen from the side, that be me, two tables away.


Apothek, Inheritance



2. Pressure & Motherhood, this is theme in the piece Bloom! & Jolly Future!


Blatant Ego Game!
Fawn Response!

Bob Dylan, >>>>The Times They are A-Changing. GO pop-lyrics!!. Society__>

All That We´ve Become



Losers Can Win(ref Starwalker)/





He Disappears in a Cloud of Black Ink! And its the awful truth.

Alice Boman/ Jaakko Eino Kalevi, Be Mine


Amason, Kelly & Yellow Moon

My Old



in the cafe

your voice it floats,

it used to


now I hear

you tellin things about me


you forget to have a look

around the corner


where I am

where I am


tapping finger to

my favourite band


spoon in my coffee

empty hands


spoon in my coffee

empty hands


you are,

so far from truth

so far from truth you are.


The Return of Writer/

to Emilie



they say

with windows open

little is to fear,


but you know

the truth:


There are nothing more dangerous

than words,


in the bar their eyes gleiten

they want him to switch

just to have proof


if he muttered,

no but he wont:


I will never greet you as

the old friend you are


I know your gaze, posture

and hand


I remember a sentence, the shock

and smells,


in the bar their eyes gleiten

they want him to switch

just to have proof


artists learn skills noone else does

they play with genders and feelings

and become what others are


its not the same as

being a man.*



Kärläkens vånda



I see his smile

in you




I see his smile

in you




I hear his laughter too

in you





his way,




how are the words he tell

does he whisper,

what does he do,


they owe me

in all their human ways?


Though even Bob Dylan

says winners are not like that,,


so we will enter the outside

and walk in mud,

and thats when

we realize:


We always lived our indoor

lives in surround.

Frazey Ford, September Fields & Done

Erlend Øye: Rainman

Itsa Girlie in Me
Portraits, 2013

Smashing Pumpkins, Lily(My One and Only)

Leonard, Rest in peace,

& The Future Album 1992



so dark

from the 1st floor

my parents playing music

when I was twelve


I looked at them

and got somehow

a grip on what music does:


It fills your head

and life with joy.


Post It Girls!
See My True Shadow! Its for clothes, hoodie, whatever. You dont have a shadow? No? Come on! Everybody has one. Mine is not out walking at night. She is, if at all awake, writing.

When Talking, /Humour and the Spirit that Slipped of the Page or / When I Tried to Stop Being the Altruistic and Anonymous Writer but Failed and Started a Yearlong Mourning /



When Talking

I didn`t


All lyrics ©Tonje Høydahl Sørli




Whats the lyrics about?

17th June 2017

My Manic And I,

Laura Marling,


Å ha ei lyte/skade


(credits to some that showed me this song) Listening then as someone that once lost a ring, and too as with the writing tendencie to find my

own story in anything:


The morning is mocking

and the birds are singing to calm them down,


My Manic And I


The fairy tale end

noone beleived it,


keep your head up

cse some still have,

of brothers and cousins and

evenings with friends,


others have become the manic,

& stand in trials to tell

that there`s no no illness in me,

no I am harmed by relations

like in the past,

and cse him,

met you with a hardened look,

down by that river filled with ducks,


you girl went too far


one day his eyes were blue,

the next brown,

scorn & silent face,

and the travel of words on you as

a living hell

is emotional abuse my friend


so you dont believe him,

no but what with the confusing feeling of someone

that is hot or cold,


so you become the manic,

their faces filled with anothers

instead of their own,


so who are you then,

someone like Lenü,

but her aspirations in your way,


so he says

this is enough,

we went to far,

this is why we are ill,


and of a sudden

In the middle of the concert

he`ll get the throw,

her words a gift, I know,

with a beautiful voice,

no, whats the point in writing

songs* if noone really

hear you.


*its a referance in a referance!


Fleet Foxes, White Winter Hymnal

Lars Vaular: Dessverre

Sundfør: Undercover(Edit)

Rockettothesky: The Dead, Dead


Lily Thing

Cass Mccombs: Bum Bum Bum,

P J Harvey: The Ministry of Defence

Nick Drake: ´Cello Song

No Harm, Editors

Cold Mailman: Petra Pan & Something You Do.

That is what a text was about: The trigging everyday life in the aftermaths of traumatic experiences. Be kind.




Female Gaze






To turn

around and

there you stood

tan an all





gav ham et manus

dette kan vi ikke lage bok av

sa han

The Wronged






the shrink said

there are two types of



One is physical,

the other is psychological,

and the psychological

often comes first,


its the silence in between,

the secret smiles and little laughters


its the neglect of feelings, the

public mocking and emotional shield


is the sudden turnings, gaslighting

and no regrets


is the withdraw, the no answer,

you as noone and the other without

dissociative tendencies





Girls Under Pressure on Respatex

Looking Back on The Year


submissive women

lie down low

till the fun is over


how how then

how then



regulary training

yeah triceps

and those thighs


let live

the homelife

of todays women


we look into each others eyes

and admit

we`re damaged

though its not the truth


let live

the homelife

of todays women


we do yoga on the

kitchen floor


and regret

ever having been

on Tinder.


This is why, With a referance to Bakhtin and his thoughts on polyphony, I Write:



Fake Tapes & lamb B / /


I I I I messages

I I messages



Id do it again

Id do it again


I I I I messages

I I messages


you me

me am you

its you in me’

and you me



I I I I messages

I I messages



Id do it again

Id do it again *




Dissociated Gaze, To Those that Freeze Because of Trauma




you a true

should not

stand in line to mock


frozen gazes,

dissociated states

frozen gazes,

and x5


oh ah I am a true believer

but in justice no not anymore


your hand without blood

and arm swings

from the carrying of you

body without any feeling

how then to defend



well, I will tell you:

The real trouble is,

you cant,





we all have faults,

but what of beliefs


later you ask,

why did you not



but people in frozen states

and immobility

dont talk or fight

and later

that colors everything






Me Man, its Me

Behaving, Shower..Spooky song..



oh the inner anger

givin you

manuscripts the pile

one a life

all of

shameful moments


one by one

are those

hating yourself

so you turn covert

I think you know

swallowing my pride

then dancing with you

I wanted my head

on your shoulder

it the slow dance

fitting there

it does

it does

my head on your shoulder

a pit for me

my head and your nose

know you now how I smell

pointing this direction

was a stitched road

my head on you shoulder

but now

my chin falls down your sleeve

too old

I am am

too old

sad then I have been

letting go of

the fuel it is to scorn



Daniel Kvammen, On Truth & Friendhip in your youth, LINK

Vi Er Indianere- stå opp, vær en venn, ikke la urett ramme dem du elsker. Så dropp lipstick-guidance- prosjekter med mindre du har arbeidslaget på plass. Når du var med, men prosjektet ditt ble gitt til noen andre så er sorgen total.

Apparently I´ve lost my discog! Has anyone seen it?....................oh and carry me home, please.



And a movie: Everyone working with social welfare/NAV should go and see I, Daniel Blake


They Knew About the Brain




gav ham et manus

dette kan vi ikke lage bok av

sa han



Friends, I have

Another movietip: Småfugler/Prestir &



Sailing in Stripes*


uniform at sea

it a salty eye and candyme


sayin you are my only friends,

made me feel sorry for all of us,

and then as always someone faked a traged death

me crying then to pier

and lay lifless as always too

in printed summerdress


and then you lifted your glass


evil and unmature

or was it me imagining your



salty eye, queen and Anna(e)

salty eye, queen and Anna(e)

king and all the rest


cowardice was to never tell the truth


wood, wood,

I see your mother


And now I am scaring you.



* This on: Roleplay(in a gang of friends) was a thing in the 2000nd. We were kings,

queens & court.


Usage &



We never say

come lets celebrate,

your text in my video & we won,

or as the,

its the background to which we fall,

but the party left us high

and the invitation out of our hand,

to soon,

though everyone know

you could need a little glam,

closed the door

when you tried to enter

said, no, this is the

party within the party,

its not for you,


and then lets get

married again


lets get married again



He: You see m back

in your floor

the meeting with lawyers,

I was there,

sitting with my face away there too

while my comrads

glared at you


sad that you ended

in a court alone


sad sad too

sad sad yo



The Hit & All Offended


a slap at

his cheek


it was one & once



he`d said

he looked forward too

her getting old enough


a toddlers first steps





Murakami, Sunday Thrown Out Hand


in a show of

past and future

can you tell my haired* friend

on the pier

to never look worried at

me again


smiling no

but that was I

to the japanese in me

bluish hear and pink



no sunburn,

trips away,


I have been put since



smiling no

but that was I

to the japanese in me

bluish hear and pink



well, oh hello

well, oh hello


smiling no

but that was I

to the japanese in me



Ferrante is alive(?)


perhaps she is a victim of modern marketing strategies! The day she if so receives the nobel prize

in literature will be interesting.



I Want to Be an Artist too


isnt it strange

put the wrong man in an artists shoes

and he becomes a millionaire


but, we dont walk in gold

sometimes we dont even eat x2


no extensive, expensive clothing,

silk or the specially harvested cotton


since nmet

lifes been steep


crying in the department for

social welfare again


turning conversations

and having his father to my

every dinner, his voice so subtle,

well I can see the fox in everyone,


so I said, I am Tonje Høydahl Sørli, and you cant do this to me, you will give back my daughter what comes from me


so I said, I am Tonje Høydahl Sørli, and you cant do this to me, you will give back my daughter what comes from me


I must admit I was so afraid

of him I made him

a text with him as the baby,


but, we dont walk in gold

sometimes we dont even eat x2


artists are poor Chief,

try that,

and youll get the

feeling of true tragedy


and then you can write me.


But being Dory, I suppose that already has happened.*



* this lyric has a referance to 4 Disney/Pixar movies: Vaiana, Finding Dory, The Boss Baby, and possibly Frozen. + of course Fifty Shades of Grey



Thoughts on Ferrantes book 1, 30 july 2017 in Norwegian:


Its A book Written to a Brother & with love


Scarecrows & Widgets


Brother(as in Friend), where to put this anger.

I cant anything but see.


Brother, where to put this anger. I cant anything but see what scared me as a child still scares me. Men, their aggression and fights with or without fists. And then, as from the sidewalk, or in some window, from the side: what did you all become. The morning was mocking me, this pile of books off from some mans hand between thighs. In a daydream, he came by, said, do you remember, or did you close your eyes to them bullying us, and I: no lyar, dont do this to me, what else than to put him down and regress into writing instead. And to find words elsewhere.


Someone to Watch over Me


jeg hører på jazz og katten

ett ullpledd og, da jeg var nitten

sa det hissig i meg,

dro Min Besværlige Venninne

til Italia og ble soloartist,

da jeg var nitten, sa det,

puttet jeg en mann i en

kvinnes sko bare fordi jeg

var redd for ham,

ligger det i nakken

for den bøyer jeg

men som nittenåring,

han hadde svarte øyne

og det kvikke blikket,

han satt på rommet mitt

og var imponert over en oppgave

jeg hadde skrevet om det tidligere

Jugoslavia, en tyrkitaliener i en gruppe

skadeskutte mennesker hadde landet

på en folkehøyskole i Lillehammer,

men hvorfor tok han

Den Besværlige Venninna

fra meg, og med seg, jeg husker ikke,

den selvbevisste og veslevoksne venninna mi, satt han på et tog, skramlet gjennom

Europa, mens han sølte kaffe på henne?

En flekk her, og en flekk der,

som blåe ringer under øyne,

nei, en gang stablet jeg ham

på beina, han var uten pust,

jeg vet ikke,

mennesker med skader,


vi ødelegger for hverandre,

mens vi vet altfor godt hva

verden trenger,


og hvis jeg møtte ham igjen

ville jeg ikke nevne Venninna

eller noe annet,

for jeg har glemt

og det er sikkert noen andre

glade for.


Retraumatisation in Bricks &



with lack in beliefs


did you call me , I asked,

and they smiled, and,

no that wasnt me,


leaving then

and not sad


no wont walk in

old misery again.



*Retraumatization is a conscious or unconscious reminder of past trauma that results in a re-experiencing of the initial trauma event. To consciously use reminders to provoke a victim of trauma is very harming.

I Am Another,


shuffled through the streets

a tired santa with

his white beard

came to my door

and said he was

another too

: I am a woman deep

inside, was that

the thing then,

: Just as you are

a man,


his eyes were scared,

so I thought, oh no

I know who sent you

to climb my stairs,

once I saw that in

m m m m m too,


and to say goodbye to

people that I like,


yes Id rather stand in

a crowd

and see you do well

on stage,


and now to tell you:


I was never a man,

but once, in a moment,

I took a mans best traits

just to survive.


Tracing Underdog


see it a wedding day

mouth fell out

took his part

didnt you

I guess that is


sympathizing with the aggressor*

so you left

take his ill behaviour

shuffle it aside

then grab the speech

and little faults,

your coughing, moaning

or the sigh,

and tell everyone

what those really meant


that would be

anything but love,



* To sympathize with the aggressor= in relationships: simply put, to, out of fear, take the perspective of the one who scares you..


Brittle Little


(its a bargain for lost souls)




too many start

their careers with looking down




They Knew About the Brain

They Knew About the Brain



y y y ya


y y y ya

y ü


y y y a




wearing glasses Harry Potter style

and web

for changing past


p p herhaps

use insta to do that


o o o or

or imagine

our begone hero

using wiki to

establish truths


why not,



we all know

she is gone

for good this time.


When Grief Comes, this piece was stolen from the exhibition in Ask in 2016.

Whats the lyrics about? 11 april 2017

This is from me when listening.


Listening then, as a mother: To Wide Lovely Eyes from the Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds album Push the Sky Away-2013.


Wide Lovely Eyes

its Hide & Seek, and a song to a child, yes- I get the impression that the lyrics is written to a child, so:


The mother stands in the window as the father takes their child to child-care. Though everyone does, it feels strange to send the child away all day. As a family they are still working on that: The absence of child to get work done. And the child,

to cope with the absence of mom and dad. The child, with a small childs open eyes, and strides in her dress, waves to her mother, saying goodbye with her hands that still cant wave, instead they look like butterflies with fluttering wings, butterflies bending, and she is waving butterflies into the sky, and her mother answers the waving, or does the perspective change here, does she - the mother, suddenly, see herself as from a loved ones perspective: His eyes on her as her brain implodes and her hands goes up, up, a goodbye to a man, no,

and when she gets to her computer she wonders what world her child now caves into, perhaps a magical landscape that she herself

has left, yes through a tunnel of leaves down to the sea, and as grown-ups we can only try to imagine what our children do all day, and how they struggle to cope without their guides in life for many hours in row, yes ,

grown-ups close down the fun fair in our minds, and the the competitiondrive in men end up killing mermaids and creativity, and so we try to

keep the real threats of terror away by telling jokes.

In the experience of becoming a mum her brain is expanding, growing, the world is full of worry, and that while she and all organize surroundings to cope, and try to fill gatherings of friends with laughter,


and yes, me, sometimes I miss organizing shoes after shoesize and color and to look onto the world with curiosity.


Or as some girl said,

after she accidently had over-

heard a grownup conversation:


Næmanæmma died? She asked

with a serious look in her eyes. And I jumped at her having heard

my words, which were not

for her ears, and at her

already there to look for

answers I was afraid to

give. So, the world has

changed, I, we know.


And thats what

Wide Lovely Eyes

reminded me of.


Kärlekens vånda & krigets





Pamflet 2:

Pamflet 6:



come with me

and lend some warmth in hand

this tsi is some other lovesong

but then the loss of time

wont you come running after me

waking up with green leaves


had the feeling

you stood back there and cried,

tears for you and me




high heels heading out-

I was told to leave a lovers night,

heard him whisper




as I walked,


oh no oh

my pinkerbell,

I that got so many things to tell,


had a folder

with that name,

started in a kitchen 2000,

a sudden comfort

from a man

gave me a secret crush,


I wrote poems

that later accidently ended in all ears



gone, of course,

who I wrote back then

was of a brochy family,

but thats oh so long ago

(17)(or so)


(Later fff* became a off pist web thing, that I lost to someone else.)


(*fff is of course also a song by Bebe Rexha)





Oslo Spektrum 6th June 2017

Alle Ble Flaue/ Aa Bb Fau

Aaa Bbbb Faaau

(efil ym fo flaH)

(half of my life I fooled my loved)


Thoughts on daydreaming and a concert,

writing then as some strange lady

amongst audience,

and how do we listen to noise,

its in the background,

and what I hear is on

men in a row

they love(hope that you) it when you choke,


happy to serve you, were you,

Thom Yorke and every true musician,

no glam or glitter,

but knowledge, warmth and a strange glare,

some affects perhaps,

moves o a girl I cannot see,

she moves her body and Thom

does too,

sweetfaced ones that

we all can love,

thats whats happen when

you think youre in place,


perhaps a future in a song,


creator has a kit to make

an identity to come forth

in a once loved,

sadly, Groundhogday makes

no way,

no, truth will mess you up,

the true tale of your life will mess you up,


him a grey jacket, that hair,

always a new door, endless corridors

and then the sudden smirk.


All this to say:

love, love to Radiohead.


Sweet Faced Ones

We All Can Love*


as I walked by

her eyes hit your cheek


side by side

in your window

you lowered your head

oh no no

this i thisi girl

is in love

thisi girl

this i thisi girl

is in love


lit a fire to the bone

when you

hired her a room

didint you



So This is Where We Have Met,



so this is where we met

some harsh lit in yours

as I say

this is where we met



so this is where we met

a yard, a stair,


truth is


I dont remember a thing



so this is where we met




I dont remember






then mock me


till this ends again


are there really none

that will not turn and whisper as I leave

in the corner of my eye

this what I see:

giggle, say

the guys made me

oh thats what you are

some gang of friends

that have not yet realized

how to greet

the one we love.







Ties/ laces*

bookmaker hold

a little secret friend


always found them

when am was in town:

shoelaces, thread,



in red, brown,

never submarine though,

I was so young

and noone remembered


the next day

followed as the next

he carried me

across the field

and put me to bed

some summergreen

or harvest no


to awake to nothing

made me a fiend



* in this world where everybody

everybody over, finding truths where theres none and living undercover, over.


*and its a poke to a book, not some strange habit, and this book again refers to Ferrante.








Goodbye Network & Establishment


oh no oh my email too

and my credible acredibilities

Lenü becomes Lila

& thats some fucking tent

waiting forever like

the rainforest with

some hairy hand around my neck

and now I am sorry too


Når musikken stilner(huffda)

mmnn n n he ditched me

mme i a a havent ditched anyone

ince -99

mm nn


Viktige serier og filmer som Skam og Hva vil folk si går verden rundt, Norske tekst-og manusforfattere fortjener dette.


Todays Narcissim:

Men Fighting Women,



Numbing and Immobility

they say this movie

is a cultureshock


well, we make too many

a girls life a hell


like shame and honour dont exist

in white middleclass



if you find yourself in offices or in schools

with silenced youngsters, help them




laugther filled

but then you are

an instrumentalist

to the core


my hand against

your neck to

put the collar right


your comment

on this

would be


already you are

correcting me


my hand against

your neck to

put the collar right


it my grandma

hands in move from

inside me


and I never questioned

it to be anything but



Traged, Staged Deaths Pauses Everything




some brown eyes gazing,

they put him to earth, like,

m m m m m me

nnnmm mmmnn n

like, me, like, like

m m m m m me

then threads start growing,

its a wineyard too,


yeah, you awoke early in your house for ten,

stepped out of the grave,

and left instead.



































Packard Bells and Sells


pleed a a

said I dont believe you

till I said, but yes yes you do,

pointed to: your hands they shiver,

pleed a a

said still I dont believe you

no I have heard you are sick, and by the way,

your writing is terrible,

till I said

pleed a a

said give give

pleed a a

why then play the scene

and walk that street

with a man like him

till I said, but this is what they do,

we are to live like this:

dissociated gaze and silent bliss*


* This lyric on: Though to stand up

and say you were abused in to instance your youth is immensly brave you could easily be met with disbelief. The truth is that family, friends, and acquaintances often turn their backs to those abused.

And why? I think this reject of the

wounded is animal-like and besides

a mindset, and one that must change.


Continental Writer Sorrow

& Soft Porn Music Industry


I like your style,

he mustve said,

after having seen me

without a hello

in someone elses classy skirt,

high heels and then

the entrance,

no way to get

this meeting formal,

so later I give my

lyrics to the man in the bar,

there I did mention

how I dislike writing for nothing,

well, he looked at me kinda sad

and said I was sweet,

but then I forgot to mumble that

I wont afford vacations for my

future me,

oh f, is this really a riddle,

Id rather tell you what will happen,

they will say:

thank you, here everyone


and noone gets paid,

and then wrap my lyrics

in some soft porn

that for sure will

sell this «new» song,


Til Årets Russ 15 may 2018


I disse dager kjører politiet en kampanje som oppmuntrer russegutter til å være kjernekarer,

16-årige jenter som blir med russegutta på tur

er sårbare,

og det er jenter i andre aldre og,

det er lite som er så trist som at

gutten eller kompisen bare stikker etterpå.


Også når de blir eldre,

nei hvem vil vel da ikke i et håp om å møte kjærligheten, på tinder, eller gjennom flørting fra byen og hjem, tro at akkurat denne gutten er en fin fyr:

Du og han vil bli kjærester,

og dette er en fin start, dere prater, ler og flørter,

men etter sexen må han gå.

Hva er det som gjør at noen gutter og menn oppfører seg sånn?


Er ikke faren der for at du som gutt, eller mann, påvirker noens liv på en negativ måte? At hun du

ikke tar hensyn til får et pessimstisk syn på livet sitt?


Jeg tror dessverre det er svært få jenter og kvinner, som går uskadet fra å bli behandlet hensynsløst.



Letter too, 12.07.2018



det er lenge siden jeg skrev til deg,

jeg pleide det, Kjære Du, og hilsen:

Evig Din. Du var dagboka mi. Men selv

ikke i deg skrev jeg om sånt som

tidlig skremte meg. I dag tenker jeg

det var fordi jeg ikke hadde et

vokabular om eller en innsikt i

sånt som var motsatsen til det å

være god, som gjorde at jeg kunne

skrevet om det. Det var ikke ord der,

i forhold til de som handlet og valgte slemt, men heller følelser, reaksjoner og handlinger.


I dag står det igjen om megogså på nett,

og jeg tenker noe som forsvinner, og som og bør nevnes

i debatten om hvem som "egentlig

trakasserer": kvinner eller menn,

er psykisk vold. Som er en vold som dessuten

ofte kommer før fysisk vold.


Psykisk vold er det å bølle med,

herme etter, avvise, neglisjere, isolere,

ignorere, nekte å høre på, dominere,

gjøre mindre, true, invalidere, la

være å inkludere, diskreditere, benekte,

kritisere, og kommandere.


Er ikke det da, slik, at den som nekter

å ta inn over seg #metoo, megogså,

som en del av en virkelighet mange kvinner lever i, egentlig på indirekte vis driver med den samme volden som var med på å kickstarte hele #metoo bevegelsen?


Og hva slags følelser oppstår i farvannet av det å igjen få sitt perspektiv og sine erfaringer avvist annet enn følelser som følger nettopp psykisk og fysisk vold? Som avmakt, skam, redsel, følelse av skyld,

depresjon, pessimisme, unngåelse

og tristhet?


Å leve i stillhet

for å slippe å bli avvist burde ikke

være et valg. Så da skriver jeg til den

som har problemer med #metoo, megogså:

lytt i stedet for å fortsette den neglekten det å avvise andres stemmer er.



Hvor står norsk musikk om fem år hvis bransjen fortsatt får lov til å bruke tekster skrevet av kunstnere eller tekstforfattere som ikke blir kreditert?

Scroll down! (rull ut tekstene dine sa han,) vel:

colors to my old



Raining Giftful Giving


mmmnnn we cant meet

thugh so soft beard


put page

and looking through appendix

me a

a a a ame


that small pony suits me

and we`re friends, the dog and me,

so pony, dog


any cats too, and a guinea pig perhaps,

cause we`re thoughtful

and now I tell:

listen, pony, cat, dog,

everyone seem to think

they know my inside head



mna a a a


his ex or some across

the table

looked at me with spite,






tree, tree,

no use in us



Committed By

Ordinary Canary, Salute


its a sad

he said

youll never recover

so they put forth some road


a bar, night, oh its commitment

to remember oneself

through new versions

thrown all over


helpfull, please see,

what if your own moments

walked right through me


might I render them,

and put em on instagram,

but I am not you,


I forget to mention

your inner feel,

proud or sad,

some gutfeel that say:

this is all so wrong.


it was me, leaning back

I was proud,

some V in my hand

oh back then

I was writer to a band


Loss of Memory*



entering some aula

walking a marble floor

to see someone raise

and try to greet her

but then I suppose

her glare is empty

she look at you and

all is nothing eh


it a empty pit

right in her soul, right


he sat down and

said, another lyric, yeah?

on you and your love,


but then s s sshe stuttered

no, oh, ah, my lyrics are on

past relating,

like, twenty years ago


it a empty pit

right in her soul



* memoryloss..is actually quite common, but amnesia isnt, could come of shock or trauma and need treatment.






#metoo & #nårmusikkenstilner-

endelig! Vi som har prøvd å si ifra

om overgrep og misbruk i årevis

er glade for det som nå skjer.

* Self harm after trauma: is a way to control your feelings. Its a normal reaction after abnormal experiences or abuse, but scary to witness to those you love. If you know anyone that inflict self-harm, know its a language thats about outer harm turned inward. Help him/her to get calm, help him/her get out of harming relations, and in the length he/she will also need help to place shame where it belongs.


Fawn Response

the hyena laugh-




Utested, Trondheim, starten av 2000-tallet en gang


han har sett så redd ut nå i lange tider,

hvorfor slenger folk dritt etter han, det er som om det blomstrer opp et hat der han og jeg er,

til jeg skjønner det: der de har forskanset seg rundt et bord i hjørnet, de roper Æsj, og sniktitter på oss som bare tar en øl, Pervo roper de,


han vil så gjerne slippe denne gjengen mer,

så han ler og spiller meg:

litt mer avmålt og kjølig blikk,

men så, etter uker med hersing

klarer jeg ikke mer- jeg snur meg og roper Pervo tilbake til gutta med sleik, Hore skriker de til svar, og ler høyt.


Dette er over 15 år siden, og starten på et liv med avmaktsfølelse, som ofte følger med mobbing.


Pervo var et ord unge i Nord-Trøndelag brukte i oppveksten min. Ble vi sinte og sure var det et ord vi kunne slenge fra oss. I gjengen som terget på utestedet den gangen, satt flere jeg kjente til fra før.


Selv om jeg skrev ironisk da som nå, streifet aldri tanken meg:

at noen kunne bruke en tekst senere, der Pervo var brukt som i

å sette grenser, for å plage noen som aldri hadde «vært pervo» i utgangspunktet.


For meg er og forblir Pervo et uttrykk fra en oppvekst i nord, som jeg ikke ville sagt med

mindre jeg hadde en god grunn.


Og nå: På meg virker det igjen som at Pervo hentes frem som begrep i noen av Oslos miljøer, og hvorfor vet jeg ikke. Det må jo finnes en stopp for sånt som ligger så langt tilbake i tid, tenker jeg. Pervo brøler man bare ikke til noen som er på vei til å kjøpe seg sko, eller handler salat på Rema. Nå som Oslo ser ut som et Syden burde det kunne være andre ting å bruke energi på.




Det som ligger mitt hjerte nærmest er å formidle rundt overgrep mot barn og unge. Dette fordi jeg har erfart slike ting selv da jeg var ungdom. Det jeg vet er at mange sliter i etterdønningene av over-grep. Å sette fokus på og formidle om overgrep og traumereaksjoner mener jeg derfor er viktig.




blir til pervo, heks, hore eller andre slengbemerkninger. For deg som er ung, så vit at det å få eller å slenge kommentarer eller avvise andre kollektivt heter namecalling og shunning på engelsk. Og at det er skadelig for den som opplever det.


Stop bullying: Kent/Friends Hålla Käften



Mekaniske jeg

Nå er det Øya igjen. Selv har jeg ikke råd til å gå. Byen fylles av folk som ikke har vært her på en stund. Det samme gjør vinduskarmen min. Det er det samme hvert år, men hva gjør vel det bare folk får skinne og skråle litt i natten...

Resume, Raise Your Arm


raise your arm

against rape and violence. Its

up & up. And then

embrace yourself.


Resume, but Why


the worst thing I think, about having experienced abuse in my youth,

is grief at been changed, forever not to be who I had been, and

my fright that those I cared for would be abused as well.

I had no

language for this. Except to try to guard myself and them. But

then, I started writing, and to try to reach those I loved through lines.

I wont say I suceeded in my reaching out, secretive as I was, but my rhymes

and lines are out there, still.


Misuse of Lyrics


I have written some lyrics that were comments to what I viewed as a growing culture of low limits and moral when it comes to sex. In wrong hands the irony and sarcasm in these lyrics has vanished. Its a thin line sometimes in getting the message through, therefore, the writer should be involved. I am very sorry this has not been the case. Voicing this, though Im also aware that there are many skilled artists and producers out there that can catch the tone and tune, and irony or sarcasm,, in a text easily.