What Could It Be

After many days’ search, the phlegmatic soul has made up his mind going down the road next to the ice-coated silo. Baby cattle seemed to enjoy sunshine and the rare blue sky above the horizon. I bet not many of you have had experience wading through four seasons during a day.

It was one of the most magnificent and eventful journeys I have ever had for many years. The Rocky Mountain is surely a gorgeous attraction, let alone lakes, frosty trees, and animals along the way.

I felt like being toasted out of outer space, looking down the oblivious quietness simmering in a cauldron of intertwined love and hatred. What could it be? My long lost memory, a souvenir carved by calloused hands of dear parenthood. I suppose it is never too late reflecting upon one’s inner self and let conscientiousness lead the way of enlightenment.

With the newest of the newest waves, my entire spirituality has no longer dwelled on someone else’s testimonies or criticism. Believe it or not, each word and act unleashing from every one of us would more or less have impact on someone around us. Accordingly, the higher social economic status one possesses, the greater responsibility he or she must take upon during the course of life on this earth...

Breez of Mountain Greek

Breeze of Mountain Greek

Sculptures of Renaissance
Freeze
Great mind of humanity
Paintings of Chapel Sistine
Reveal
Divine plans of supreme being
When will this world reach
The perfect stage of Utopia
I guess
The answer had been written
By breeze of mountain Greek
Faith hope and charity
Nothing could be achieved
If no one carries any of these...

Written by Jerski Bjorksen, February 17, 2007

You Can't

You Can’t

Thought bounces
Inner voice echoes
You
Never say good-bye
And I wonder why
Dream is yours
Sorrow shall be mine
Hundreds of messages
To where should I reply
You can’t
Leave without telling
I won’t
Accept without musing
Life is perhaps a lie
When bubbles burst
I only see my face turning
White…

Written by JerSki BjorkSen

To Kirk,

I never get to say good-bye to you; and I hope you will have a better life in another world. What shocking news it is! I found out you passed away today. It was only three weeks ago I got a textmessage from you across the Pacific Ocean. Farewell, my dear friend!If there is really a next life, I am willing to be your friend again...

Où es-tu

Où es-tu

Quand la nuit tombe
Mon coeur sera dans un monde
Si noir et tremblant
Où es-tu
Mes parents m’ont dit auparavant
Tu es une lumière très brilliante
Mais pourtant
Je ne te vois pas tellement
Souvant
Je me demands
Pourquoi ce malheur si grand
M’est arrivé
On dit nous sommes des anges
Mais si je pourrais choisir
Je préférerais être comme des faucons
Au moins je pourrais voler
Sans chargins
Vraisembablement

Ecrit par JerSki BjorkSen, 8 février, 2007


Child kidnapping and molestation have been reported more and more via media. As criminologists and police try to put those pedophiles behind the bar, there are psychologists and neuroscientists who are conducting research to shed light on whether those criminals are actually under certain chemical imbalance in their brains.

Yet, who can bring back a once pure-hearted soul? What will those children become later in life? If God really exists, how can He let innocent children walk on that dark road without reaching His hands out? Can one be healed after being traumatized severely both physically and mentally?

If I were one of those angels, I would rather be a falcon and fly high and afar in the sky…

Edelweiss

Edelweiss



Small petals white
Gather hearts of passersby
On the mountain blanc
In the lake blue
With music so high
Region of vineyard
Cheese of cottage
I see a face
Shining from my balcony
Edelweiss
Love of Swiss life
French German and Italian wine
Postcard excursion and an old bike
I shall never let go
Of a miraculous night
Under the starry and tranquil sky
Edelweiss…

Written by JerSki BjorkSen

Liar Liar Pants On Fire

“Liar liar pants on fire, hanging on the telephone wire…” popped up my mind on my way home tonight. I recalled a long lost memory back on the east coast, the desire to mimic how others spoke English, fun times of practicing “th” sound and memorizing idioms and phrases.

E. asked how old I’m. Man, I don’t feel I’m old but in fact I am a middle-aged man. D.C. sent his greetings from Santa Barbara a while back, telling me his sister was going to visit him during Lunar Year Holiday. I know it isn’t easy spending this most important and traditional festival overseas. Well, at least, he won’t be too far away from China Town and can get tasty Chinese cuisine.

It’s really time to move on; and I can’t wait really. But somehow I can sense there are some friends I just started getting to know better and life just turns its course at the corner again. C’est la vie, whether it’s passive or pessimistic, it’s a French expression I acquired while studying in Switzerland. I miss speaking French enormously…

“Liar liar pants on fire, hanging on the telephone wire. Who would remember me? Who will read my poetry? You or me or nobody?”