willcano.blogspot.com
Ole Petter's Poems: BUILDING THE ASYLUM
http://willcano.blogspot.com/2011/10/building-asylum.html
Sunday, October 23, 2011. Found this buried among my notes, and probably should have stayed that way, but, what the hell. It's surreal and short enough not to be too troubling to read. I bought my face from a beggar. And kindly he threw in his name. I got two eyes from a blind man,. But he wouldn't give me his pain. I took rage away from a killer. And murdered his innocent sin. I opened the door to my window. Looking out for the serpent within. From the deaf I stole suffering silence. I CAN STOP BELIEVIN.
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Ole Petter's Poems: January 2011
http://willcano.blogspot.com/2011_01_01_archive.html
Friday, January 28, 2011. THE PECULIAR TALE OF CORAL MISTY. One sumptuous Sunday morning Coral Misty walked into my life. She proclaimed without much ado she was my long lost wife. But I had no earthly recollection of who this woman could be. As I searched the catacombs to my past to solve the mystery. Don't you remember, the night, the beach in June. You said I do indeed beneath the cloudless moon. Then we loved, immersed in waves caress. While I listened to your heart fill it's emptyness. I can't help,...
willcano.blogspot.com
Ole Petter's Poems: January 2012
http://willcano.blogspot.com/2012_01_01_archive.html
Saturday, January 7, 2012. THE FOOTPRINTS IN MY MEMORIES. The tempest from Toulouse. Stepped gently on my toes. When I met her at de gaulle. In last summers dying throes. In the oceans of her eyes. I lost my wisdom found. The cornerstone of reason. Sunk and quickly drowned. She left her footprints in my memories. Like purple sunblessed silhouettes. She dug her grave in the soil of my soul. So I never would forget. Immersed in the moonlight. Where lonely autumns sleep. The birth of romance.
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Ole Petter's Poems: ON THE SHORES OF 44
http://willcano.blogspot.com/2011/12/on-shores-of-44.html
Thursday, December 1, 2011. ON THE SHORES OF 44. Two young lovers found a hideaway. Where prying eyes cannot reach. Deep beneath the barb wire skies. Making contours in the soft sandy beach. The clouds above, the darkness below. Shelters the passion, radiates heat. A touch and a kiss, a momentary bliss. They've come too far, too late to retreat. In the tangled web of war. On the shores of fourty four. Lingering pictures hung like memories. Above the red stained waters of Normandy. To blow away their fears.
willcano.blogspot.com
Ole Petter's Poems: March 2011
http://willcano.blogspot.com/2011_03_01_archive.html
Saturday, March 12, 2011. I don't know where this came from. It started with one sentence and evolved into a journey trying to figure out what happened. Makes it interesting for me trying to solve the puzzle so to speak. This starts with a grusome discovery and then flashbacks to what led up to it. It sort of circles back to the beginning. She was killed without any lingering remorse. Far beyond the plains of redemption. Six bullets in her body. Seven days past comprehension. But she never made a sound.
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Ole Petter's Poems: February 2011
http://willcano.blogspot.com/2011_02_01_archive.html
Saturday, February 5, 2011. Was a big recluse. Who lived in the Kodal woods. He'd sit on a throne. Made of pine cones. And bitch that he was misunderstood. He hates his queen. Who is ugly and mean. Large like an overfed bear. She'd talk far too long. How her life was in need of repair. She was seeing a shrink. A skunk with a stink. Who told her to have an affair. Get it on with a horse. Or cozy up to a deer. Was guzzling the booze. What a miserable sod he'd become. Taking baths in a whirpool or rum.
willcano.blogspot.com
Ole Petter's Poems: December 2011
http://willcano.blogspot.com/2011_12_01_archive.html
Thursday, December 1, 2011. ON THE SHORES OF 44. Two young lovers found a hideaway. Where prying eyes cannot reach. Deep beneath the barb wire skies. Making contours in the soft sandy beach. The clouds above, the darkness below. Shelters the passion, radiates heat. A touch and a kiss, a momentary bliss. They've come too far, too late to retreat. In the tangled web of war. On the shores of fourty four. Lingering pictures hung like memories. Above the red stained waters of Normandy. To blow away their fears.
willcano.blogspot.com
Ole Petter's Poems: I WILL LOVE AGAIN
http://willcano.blogspot.com/2011/11/this-is-song-that-was-inspired-by-dear.html
Sunday, November 13, 2011. I WILL LOVE AGAIN. This is a song that was inspired by a dear friend of mine. She provided the inspiration. For that I am eternally grateful. It's basically a song for those who has loved and lost, but not to give up and get back in the ring. There are days when the universe doesn't make sense. Time is an anchor that moors discontent. Life is a butterfly flapping it's tiny wings. Going nowhere tied to an invisible string. I walk alone down roads made of dust. I WILL LOVE AGAIN.
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Ole Petter's Poems: October 2011
http://willcano.blogspot.com/2011_10_01_archive.html
Wednesday, October 26, 2011. Some times it's better not to wake up from a coma, as you will see. The tubes are feeding me. The fuel that keeps me alive. Hanging by the threads of uncertainty. When I first arrived. I slept for an eternity. Before I awoke in my mind. Now I'm searching through the mist of dreams. For a sun that never shines. There are many memories. Behind old and creaky doors. Some I never payed a visit. Those I could ignore. A few were postcards filled with joy. I would often linger there,.
