Stikkord: Psykisk helse.

Tankeslottet; en antologi

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«Tankeslottet»

KOMMER I FEBRUAR


«Tankeslottet» en dikt antologi krydret med flere forfattere med garanti om å røre ved din sjel og stemning i ditt hjerte.
Tusen takk til @rebeccablix.forfatter.skribent og @rebecca_blix_forlag du er helt herlig og jeg er så takknemlig for denne muligheten, og tusen takk til kunstner @jarlgoliartworks for å ha illustrert dette nydelige bokomslaget, jeg digger deg og din kunst.
Rebecca og Jarl bidrar med sine dikt også i «Tankeslottet»
Gleder meg til å få denne hjem.

-Lillian Haugland aka Orkidedatter

My poetry collection 2

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Note; my name, is Lillian Haugland.
The Rescue; from the eyes of a bleeding child

The artist at my publisher #nextchapterpub has captured the essence in this cover and I’m beyond grateful, thank you so much.
———-
…..book description….

From the soul, heart, mind, body and spirit of Orkidedatter, The Rescue – from the eyes of a bleeding child –
is a collection of dark poetry inspired by the author’s childhood.

The author’s crossing points of the physical, psychological and the imagination are anchored inside this book. Mental health is close to Orkidedatter’s heart, and writing has been one of her methods for overcoming her demons during the darkest moments in her life.

To communicate that you are not alone in fighting bad memories is the soulful purpose of this collection of poems. Do not be afraid to face your worst fears, dive into your mind, and face what you are experiencing with an open heart. It’s not easy, but take a deep breath, breathe and listen to your body. You can be surprised by how strong you are.

Read with your eyes, listen with your heart and feel with your mind, and join in on a therapeutic rise from the fire in the abyss, to have a will to live a life with your head over the surface. Become the phoenix rising from the ashes.
———————————————————
Together with my publisher, after a lot of conversations, I said yes to use my real name as an author name this time, because this is a poetry collection based on my life, my childhood and it’s close to my heart, but, I’m still Orkidedatter as an artist.
———————————————————-
Darker
Colder
Unwanted
….I looked into the mirror and what did I see…


—— a poetry collection based on a true story
the author’s own story______

I hope you will like my poetry book❤️

Thank you so much

-Lillian-


———————————————————————

My book-poetry-

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My poetrycollection

My book, my first poetry collection in English language are available at Adlibris, Goodreads, Barns & Noble and Amazon.

Please, check my link:

https://linktr.ee/Orkidedatter

Thank you so much

—————————————————————

From the north a butterfly in
winter land under the
Polar star in the elongated
small country
-Norway-

If you listen carefully you can hear
her wing stroke rises from a descending black
star from a nightmare visions
flash down below the abyss…

breaks through the chains from
a cage of
another day healing subconsciously
a picture of pain.

Bleeding memories and a battered
country girl,
but beautiful as the midnight sun…

strong as the Northern Lights
dances on the
black canvas of the sky,
she colors her soul’s
landscape of a ruin to an
architectural masterpiece.

-Orkidedatter-
————————————————————

She lights a candle…

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English text after the Norwegian text.

Poem poetry artistic poet artist Norwegian artist author Norwegian author kunstner dikter Norway feelings høytid holidays darksoul følelser Art: always my own @orkidedatter

Dagen er kort og natta er lang i

landet i nord med sine snødekte fjell og fjorder

med hvitt slør som ligger stille i denne

mørketida

elven renner med sine snøperler dansende i

fossefallet som svever med nordavinden

bortenfor solen

hun tenner et lys

Nordlyset danser i glede der isbjørnene bor

julestjernen blinker i denne frosne vinternatt

der den siste strålen fra månens mystikk sakte

svinner hen

hun tenner et lys

et barns ansikt hvilende mot vindusruten i håp

om at under treet ligger alt hun ønsker seg

snøkrystaller faller utenfor

alle er unike og vakre

de skinner stemningsfullt i den kalde natten

hun tenner et lys

hennes julehjertet omfavner den svarte

julerosen som gråter kronbladene ned på en

seng av snøkrystaller i håp om minnenes

gjensyn er historiens forsoning der

hun lytter nøye til hennes sjel som synger i

sterke følelser

hun tenner et lys

der hun drømmer en arktisk drøm om

barnetroens mirakler

der den hvite duen flyr lydløst gjennom

lenkene som løfter håpets eventyr bak det røde

havets juvel et sted

med frosten på sine kinn tenner hun et lys for

alle de historiene som blir uttrykt uten ord…

//

The day is short and the night is long in this

country in the north with its snow-capped

mountains and

fjords with white veil that lie still in this dark

time

the river flows with its snow beads dancing in

the waterfall that hovers with the north wind

beyond the sunbeam

she lights a candle

The Northern Lights dances in joy where the

polar bears drill Christmas star blinks in this

frozen winter night where the last ray of the

moon’s mystery slowly fades away until

she lights a candle

a child’s face resting against the window pane

in the hope that underneath the tree lies

everything she wants

snow crystals fall outside are unique and

beautiful

shines evocative in the cold night

she light lights a candle

where she dreams an arctic dream about the

miracle of the infant faith the white dove flies

silently through the chains that lift the

adventure of hope behind the jewel of the Red

Sea somewhere

with the frost on her cheeks,

she lights a candle

for all the stories that are expressed without

words. ..

-Orkidedatter-

The silence of the forest.

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Me and my little family went out into the forest today.

We were just going to be with the «silence of the nature»

I open the car door and felt the clean energy of the forest fill me up immediately.

I looked down on the ground where I was just about to put my foot down. There on the ground, there were many ants, so there was one jump and bounce and Lillian was safely on a rock.

My husband understood he didn’t have to ask me for help, and he fixed everything. My son laughed and looked at me and we laughed even more.

I spend some time on an outside meditation and looking curiously at my husband. Our son and he was fishing.

My mind never rest and words and pictures begin to take shape. I have to write down the words and enter wildly on the phone.

I meet the gaze of my husband and his bright blue eyes sparkles towards me. He has already been tan and his strong arms pulsating towards me .

He reads my body language and how I smile at him. He understands what happens in my heart and mind.

I sit on the stone and write and put a strawberry into my mouth.

He comes to me, whispers something in mye ear, and I love it when he does that. I hide the rest of the strawberries.

I grab his arms and put them around me and I felt his heart rhythm.

I did not finish the poem..but I got the forest’s clean air in my lungs, the water’s energy and be with those who mean everything to me.

..and I have smiled and laughed a lot ..

We get a trout, who came home with us.

And I… I know what to do with the rest of the strawberries tonight 😉

🦋

-Lillian-

Up from the ashes

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(English text after the Norwegian text)

Opp fra asken norwegian blogger upfrom the ashes poem

Hun reiser seg fra asken.
Hun vet ikke om hun er død eller levende.
Øynene føles som kull.
Hennes kropp kan hun ikke kjenne igjen.
Hun lytter.
Føler etter hjerterytme sin.
Det er tomt.
Føles tungt.
Er det mørkt?
Hvilken sorg var hun?
Hvilken smerte ble hun?
Hvilken kjærlighet skal hun velge?
Hun går utover landskapet som skinner.
Hun ser en elv.
Hun løfter blikket.
Hun ser grønne enger rundt elven.
Ved elven under et tre står en mann.
Hun ser seg tilbake og en sorg fyller hele
hennes sjel.
Bak henne er det varmt og flammer kastes
mot henne.
som blafrer.
Hun skimter farger av oransje, gul og rød
Det gjør vondt.
Hun har kommet til livets slutt.
Hvilken vei skal hun velge?
Hun velger å gå mot mannen.
Han strekker sine hender mot henne.
Hun nøler et øyeblikk.
Livet vises i revy i hennes hode.
Det er ingenting å gå tilbake til.
Hun velger en fremmed dør.
Den åpnes.
Hun føler håp og glede.
Arrene skal gro.
Hun lever.
🦋
-Lillian-

//

Up from the ashes…

She gets up from the ashes
She doesn’t know if she’s dead or alive
The eyes feel like coal
She can’t recognize her body
She listens
Feeling her heartbeat
It is empty
Feels heavy
Is it dark
What grief was she
What pain did she get
What love should she choose
She goes beyond the landscape that shines
She sees a river
She lifts her eyes
She sees green meadows around the river
At the river under a tree stands a man
She looks back and a sorrow fills her whole
soul
against her
Behind her it is hot and flames are thrown
against her
She glimpse the colors of orange, yellow and
red that flutter
It hurts
She has come to the end of life
Which way should she choose
She chooses to go against the man
He stretches his hands toward her
She hesitates for a moment
Life is shown in revue in her mind
There is nothing to go back to
She chooses a foreign door
It opens
She feels hope and joy
The scars must grow
She is alive
🦋
-Lillian-

Meditation..

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(This post is only in English)

It was a bit cloudy in the mountains today, but it does not stop Lillian from an outdoor meditation.

I sit down on a stone, feel like I get in touch with Mother Earth and listen to the sounds. The silence is the right word, but it is only broken by the stream running next to me.

First, I take a look at the stream that trickles. Look at the water and the patterns in it. I see the stones on the bottom and it flows.

I close my eyes and my soul goes on adventure.

I stand on the highest mountain and look down on the dense deep forest and cry out loud over mountains, plains, fjords and other fauna. «I managed it» …

I see for myself the «ladder» I have climbed up and down so many times. When I have climbed a step up, I have fallen three steps down again.

The road from the abyss and just getting the «head over the water» has been a battle on my own.

I imagine the steep and slippery mountainsides where nothing has been used.

Then it has been to walk sideways a good distance with the ladder on the back which weighs extra.

Sleeping and heavy it has been, where mouse steps have become a nightmare and I just want wings like a bird so I can escape over the challenging mountains I have in front of me.

Again, I want to welcome my thoughts as if they are guests in my house with me. Taking them kindly in and when it’s time to go, I say goodbye and close the door.

-This is so powerful to me, and help me a lot.

Thank you nature and Mother Earth.

-Orkidedatter-

Colorless

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(English text after the Norwegian text).

Hun tar sine siste skritt.

Her hun kaller sitt hjem.

Hun snur seg og ser sine egne fotspor.

Hun var ikke klar over at de så slik ut.

Hun opplever at den ene foten skiller seg ut fra den andre.

Det er som hennes fotspor prøver å si henne noe.

Hennes fotspor er overalt på dette stedet.

Så mye følelser.

Hun ønsker bare å viske de bort.

Hun skal snart ut på en reise.

En reise der hun skal farge alle farger i regnbuen, i vinden og på sine vinger.

Hun ser for seg en hvit sommerfugl.

Flyr igjennom kraftig motvind.

Faller.

Ligger livløs på bakken.

Hun stryker den varsomt.

Hun ser et lite sår i den skjøre kroppen.

Det vil alltid bli et arr.

Hun løfter den opp mot himmelen.

Håper den er sterk nok til å fly.

Sommerfuglens følehorn beveger seg opp og ned.

Retter litt på vingene sine.

Løfter seg opp og flyr.

Langt borte i horisonten er den bare en svart prikk.

I hånden hennes ligger sommerfuglens avtrykk igjen.

Sommerfuglens støv skinner som glitter i hennes hånd i alle mulige farger.

Så den hvite sommerfuglen var ikke helt hvit alikevel…

Den gjemte bare sin skjønnhet.

Kanskje en dag alle ser hvor vakker den fargeløse og hvite sommerfuglen er…

-Orkidedatter-

//

Colorless:

She takes her final steps.

Here she calls her home.

She turns around and sees her own footsteps.

She didn’t realize they looked like this.

She feels that one foot stands out from the other.

It’s like her footsteps trying to tell her something.

Her footsteps are everywhere in this place.

So much emotion.

She just wants to wipe them away.

She will soon be on a journey.

A journey where she will color all colors in the rainbow,

in the wind and in her colorless wings.

She envisions a white butterfly.

Feeling through heavy headwinds.

Fall.

Lives lifeless on the ground.

She strokes it gently.

She sees a small wound in the fragile body.

It will always be a scar.

She lifts it up to the sky.

Hope it is strong enough to fly.

The butterfly’s feelings move up and down.

Turns its wings slightly.

Raises up and flies.

Long away from the horizon it is just a black shadow.

In her hand, the butterfly’s imprint is again.

Dust shines like glitter in her hand,

in all possible colors.

So the white colorless butterfly was not quite white anyway …

It just hid its beauty.

Maybe someday everyone sees how

beautiful the colorless and white butterfly is …

-Orkidedatter-

Life seeds…

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(This post in only in English)

(I’m not quite sure if you can read the text well in the picture, so I write it as well)…

As she saw the

shadows moving

slowly, so she felt her heartbeat in

her chest,

the moon’s magic myth spread around her

and she felt cold.

The shadows glanced around her heart,

the moonlight shining

on her face

writhing in pain,

and her soul fighting

for her juctice to

life that was about

to end. Worn she lay

on the ground

and scratched.

Into eternity she

was to win and

the seeds of

life were sown.

-Orkidedatter-

Norwegian nature embraces her soul🦋

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(This post is only in English)

Norwgian nature, Norwegian blogger

In the mountains far in the big wide tundra she feels small. If Mother Earth decides to shake a little, she has no other choice to join in on what’s happening and let fate determine the outcome.

Norwegian nature Norwegian blogger

She sees so far the eye can reach, and the sun shines from the most beautiful blue sky. With paper and pencil she has next to her, she lays down in the snow.

She makes a snow angel … and embraces herself with the energy of nature.

Norwegian nature Norwegian blogger.

The blue sky reminds her that there is no end, nor any start up there, but a whole eternity. She closes her eyes and feels.

Feeling the force of her heartbeat and her Viking blood running in her vains.

Her blood bubbles and she can feel the presence of something she doesn’t know.

Only her imagination can put an end to her dreams ..

Norwegian nature, Norwegian blogger

Music notes appear as a movie in her head. Every note has its sound, every sound has its picture and every picture gives her a word …

Where the ancestors have settled from the old times it gives her roots from a time she has not seen, but which she can only feel.

The meditation helps her to sense the nature and it feels like home.

norwegian blogger Norwegian nature

Far down there she can hear the sound of Norway’s longest river. It crumbles, rush and flows like in a rosewood thirst for water.

At the end of the long miles it runs into the ocean and becomes one with the world.

She feels lucky to experience this. It smells like winter and spring. A summer mood at the bottom of the river where withered leaves turns into grass and moss.

Where the little sprouts of the trees and flowers are fighting for life to flourish. Everything will come to life after King Winter’s farewell.

She’s finished now, and thanks her spirit and soul, and thanks Mother Earth for this time. She knows she’s coming back in the summer. With a hope to flourish like the mountain in hope and faith.

At home in the sunset, she is grateful. She writes it down in a book she calls «Orchid Garden». Here she fills up the blank sheets with positive things and experiences.

She sits quietly until the sun has gone completely down. She can still feel the warmth of the sunset that spreads her colors around the world with a prayer to all of us for love.

In the sunrise the next morning there is a new day …

It’s quiet, only the birds that chirp a jolly song break the silence. Only the trees in her garden whiz a gently good morning and flutter with their big branches so her hair flutters.

She always has pen and paper with her, and this time she writes the notes in her mind in the form of a poem and she has her paint brush and colors ready.

What turns into life in her drawing book will she discover soon…

-Orkidedatter-