Each one second

( By Jan Christian Sørensen )

Each one second.

I feel pain every day, it kills a little of me every second.
I have no dreams at night anymore, they shrink a little every second.
I’m still full of love, but it fades a little every second.
I’m probably strongest when I am weak, but the intensity fades a little every second.

I walk alone through the streets while I think of my life that shrinks a little every second.
I feel the loneliness creep in and steal a bit of luck every one second.
I’m no longer the clever people, they disappear a little quiet away every second.
I lose myself and become someone else, slowly lose myself a little every second.

Why no one can see how everything is going?
Why are some worse while others improve?
Why is there so much hate when there is so much love?
Why can not we see what we are doing to each other?

Why cut all ties, those who would hold us all together?
Why I mean so much more than we?
Why be the last of them almost nothing?
Why does the amount we can take more than the bit we can give?

I can no longer accompany you, my pain grows a little every second.
I only see the cave greedy emptiness in your eyes and it increases a little every second.
I filled up slowly with a violent hatred and it grows a little every second.
I have no desire to be here anymore, the desire disappears a little every second.

I only hope that others come with me, along with any luck can be increased a little every second.
I cry not loud, but speak quietly, but the strength increases slightly every second.
I can see the many losses and lost souls, and it continues, the number a little every second.
I can see a world that becomes uglier and stopped it will not be the uglier every second.

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About jachso

Hey Destiny Poets. I live in Denmark about 90 km from Copenhagen and works in Roskilde as a teacher and mentor. I'm probably not like most men of my age and yes I am aged 50 years old. I've tried a lot of jobs without finding what I'm passionate about. Writing, I have always loved and I was probably just 14 years old when I produced my first poem. I have not yet been released some of my poems, but I hope it happens one day. I just finished a novel which I would like to have published, now the time and talent show whether I have the ability to write. Poetry has a special meaning for me and this is where I really feel at home. My life has sometimes been marked by many losses. In the mid eighties, I lost my fiance at the time when the accident happened was pregnant. She lost control of the car and drove herself and her child, who was on his way thereby, to death. It has really made its mark on my life and way of thinking. In the late nineties, I had problems with my back and had to seek other avenues to support myself. I finally decided to enroll at university and was admitted to the humanist line. I read philosophy, science, psychology, journalism and history, but philosophy and psychology is my major interest. I thrive today in the RUC aka Roskilde University just 25 km from Copenhagen. My job is to guide and teach, and it is a job with speed and that gives me a lot again. I have two collections of poems ready to be released, if I can find a publisher who will publish them. I have no children, it would obviously be my lot in life although I have tried, but luck never smiled at me that way. If you have any questions for me so I hope you just ask away all you want, I'll respond as soon as I have read the questions. With kindest regards from Jan Sorensen

2 thoughts on “Each one second

  1. Louis Kasatkin

    With work as manifestly good(and good is such an inadquate term,and yet the alternative is hyperbole,which wears itself out),as this,the habitues of “Not Just Poetry”workshop sessions would certainly ask you,out of professional curiousity, what the “inspiration” or “motivation” behind this particular poem was.

  2. jan christian sørensen

    Thanks for your comments on my poetry.

    My inspiration for Each one second and I dream about somewhere else is rooted in the horrible killing of children in Norway on the 22 of July. This act of violence inspired me to write those two poems.
    Best whishes from Jan

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